#that fucking short ass italian

[just-miru]

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

[prythiansprincess]

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.

[mommynott]

Lights, Lust, and Leather

12 Days of Dickmas — Theodore Nott x reader

Summary: Christmas break has you feeling lonesome, taking matters into your own hands you decide to decorate the common area when suddenly your…enemy? 👀 Stumbles in…and let’s just say he’d much rather decorate you.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, chars 18+, college au, ewb!theo, enemy!theo, dom!theo, blow job, throat fucking, restraints, rough sex, degrading, dirty talk, choking, slight slapping, spanking, slight brat taming, slight edging, PIV, creampie, dom&sub, enemy!theo going to fucking town

The Common Room felt deserted, almost empty in the absence of the other Slytherin students. It was the first day of Christmas break and the vast majority of the students were eager to head home for the holidays.

But you had stayed behind. You decided to take it upon yourself to decorate the usual brooding common room, turning it into a dark Christmas wonderland.

With a slick twirl of your wrist, you flicked your wand toward the speaker, ‘Santa Baby’ starting to coo ever so softly around the area. A gentle yet merry smile painted over your face as you rummaged through a box filled with string lights.

Singing softly along to the cheerful music, you felt content. Just a few classmates had stayed behind. But with one particular classmate…you weren’t sure how to feel. Would something even happen?

Wearing a tight verdant v-neck along with a form-fitting, black leather skirt. You felt completely enveloped in the cozy holiday feel. Climbing up on the ladder you had set up next to the fireplace, you carefully began to hang the twinkling lights, draping them with ease yet sophistication.

However, that damn skirt seemed determined to reveal more with each movement. You found yourself teetering precariously on the ladder diligently hanging the set of lights with one hand as the other tried to tug down the leather.

Even with the ladder, you couldn’t seem to reach certain areas across the fireplace. “What the fuck-“ Mumbling a groan to yourself, you messed with your skirt, trying to pull it down to cover the creek of your ass.

Maybe wearing a skirt this short wasn’t the brightest idea. Fuck it. No one was around anyway. You shrugged your shoulders with a sigh as you reached even higher, placing the lights as you could.

At this exact moment, Theo stumbled into the empty common room, his mind still occupied with the final grades yet to come and the fact Mattheo had taken off with some random girl for a week.

Unaware that he had even entered, you were heavily concentrated on the decor. Your tongue creeping from between your lips, your eyes squinting at the bulbous lighting.

As Theodore stepped deeper into the space he froze, his eyes falling on a sight that immediately banished all thoughts of finals and grades from his mind. There, amongst the twinkling lights and Christmas decorations, was you.

You struggled on the ladder. Your skirt having ridden up to reveal a tantalizing expanse of tempting and smooth skin. The skin he knew so fucking well.

Suddenly, a familiar voice echoed behind you. "Well, well, well…" Theo had walked in on your festive preparations, eyeing you down fully. His stare was searing into your juicy ass just as you turned your head with a smirk.

Playfully rolling your eyes to the Italian. “Nott…” With a soft giggle, you swore you felt your cheeks flush up. Fuck. How could he always get you this flustered? You hated him. Loathed him. In every aspect…besides sex.

Taking another stride toward you, Theo shoved one of his hands in his pocket. Slowly caressing his knuckles down your bare thigh with the other one.

His gaze now shifting up to meet with yours. “-Surprised you’re doing all of this.” In his usual taunting tone, you could feel your jaw clenching. Why do you have to be so annoying yet so fucking hot?

“You’d be surprised by a lot of things I can do, Nott”

Theo now palmed around your thigh, giving it a faded squeeze while a deep chuckle muttered from his lungs. “Hm…Would I be though?— I think I’ve seen all you can do, Bella.” For fucks sake. That damn Italian nickname. It drove you up a wall.

You could feel the heat already shooting down between your legs from not only his words but his touch too. The sexual tension already spilling over the edge. Something that happened quite often with the two of you.

“Actually, you haven’t.” Replying in a snippy manner, you slowly cocked your head to the side as you continued to hang the Christmas lights onto the mantle.

Trying to ignore Theodore, you shifted over, standing on your tiptoes. Your smooth skirt riding up more so. He could hardly hold it together at this point.

“Being a fuckin’ brat today aren’t we?”

Through a growl-like tone, Theo took a step back and you sighed. Your eyes rolled once more as you faced him. “Maybe I wouldn’t be if you weren’t such a dick.” Mumbling your words, you fully turned your back.

Putting your focus back on the decor. Theodore, walked to a nearby couch, plopping down as he placed his hands behind his head, manspreading as he observed you.

Engrossed in the twinkling lights, you began to think he had wandered off. But no— Theo was still there. His sight traced down your entire body. Admiring every single crook and curve. “Fuckin’ hell-“ Breathing his thoughts aloud, your head whipped around in surprise.

“If you’re still here, why don’t you get off your ass and help me?” The irritation radiated off of you, but fuck, Theo found you that much hotter when you were angry, annoyed, bratty. Liking the challenge of you.

“You see…I could help you…” he started, relaxing further into the couch with a sly shit-eating grin. “…But what fun would that be? I’m enjoying the view, Tesoro.”

Even through his annoying aura, Theodore held his charm. Something that always worked on the ladies. Even you. “God— You are so fucking annoying…” Sneering your words, you felt the rage bubbling inside of you.

The rage that would so easily turn into passion with him. Fuck me. Suddenly you realized what you had said. What you had done. But you weren’t upset about it in the least.

“The fuck did you just say?”

Theo stood up abruptly, making his way over to you on the ladder. Feeling your knees already start to go weak. You had pushed him over the edge like you always did. His aggression was going to be taken out on you like it always was.

“I— nothing. I said nothing.” Stifling back your flirty laugh, you gave Theodore a bratty yet knowing look. Coaxing him deeper into sexual frustration.

“Oh, you’re going to regret this, brat-“ Before you could even respond, he picked you up easily. Throwing you over his shoulder, his free hand yanking the string lights off of the mantel.

“Hey! Those took forever to put up!” With a whine, your body limped against his own. Feeling his strong hands holding tightly onto your thighs. “Don’t care.”

Practically spitting out his words, he stormed you both off to his dorm room, locking the door behind him before throwing you down on the bed. “I got under someone’s skin didn’t I?” You were only fueling the fire now, but fuck. You loved to see Theo so angry.

The way he’d dominate the fuck out of you. The way he’d pound into you like crazy. Angry sex with Theodore Nott? Top fucking tier.

“I’m going to fuck that bratty mouth of yours until you can no longer speak.”

Nothing but dominance danced in Theo’s eyes. He stalked over, plugging the string of lights into the outlet behind his bed before sitting you up on your knees. “Maybe that’s what I wanted…”

The excitement was coursing through your veins but all of a sudden he brought both of your hands behind your back. Tying your wrists together with the wired lights. Feeling the warmness of them against your delicate flesh.

“W-what are you doing?” Stuttering through a low laugh, you felt Theodore tighten them snuggly. However, he didn’t respond. He was in full Dom mode now. Throwing off his shirt before Unbuckling his belt, he tossed them both to the side.

His ocean gaze filled with an assertive winter storm now as he shuffled his jeans off, pulling out his massive hardened length. “Open up, marmocchia-“

The Italian pet name for brat slipped through his lips while he grabbed a fistful of your silky hair. Bringing you closer to his cock. “Needy for me hm-“ Cutting off your words, Theo took his free hand, using his thumb to part your lips open before ramming his blood-filled throbbing cock into your mouth.

“Fuck— Shut the fuck up and suck me, slut.” He groaned loudly, both of his hands wrapped throughout your locks now.

Thrusting his hips against your face, your once siren-like eyes turned to a doe-eyed stare. Taking him all in as your hands instinctively fought against the restraint of the lights.

—Gluck Gluck Gluck- the noises you were making while he fucked your throat was making Theo’s dick spasm with pleasure. Snaking his hands down quickly, he took the material of your shirt and tore it straight down the middle, your forest green lace bra popping out.

“Let’s get these perfect titties out, Tesoro.”

He growled, tugging your breasts right out of your skimpy bra, seeing those hardened nipples perk right up. Theo fought out a groan, mercilessly thrusting down your throat while his hands found their way back into your hair.

One gripping hard on the back as the other brushed through your strands gracefully. Pushing his length further down your throat, you gagged against him, tears now pricking the corners of your eyes.

A low and menacing laugh freed from Theodore as he fucked your face even harder. Taking one of his hands and lightly slapping the apple of your cheek. “Open up that throat, slut- I know you can do it…Open.” The assertiveness was prominent through his grunts.

You tried to loosen up your throat muscles, your mascara dripping down your face as you did. But when you heard an approved moan from Theo, you knew it was working.

“Ah— Good fuckin’ girl…Just like that”

Seeing him bite his lower lip through your blurry vision, you felt a sense of pride run through you. Knowing you were feeding Theo with nothing but pure bliss.

He started to cram further and further down your throat, seeing the outline of his cock down your esophagus. Fuck. Your binded wrist felt hot to the touch by now, whimpering through his intense plows.

This went on for a good few minutes until Theo felt like he could fucking bust a nut on the spot. Not only that but your throat had an intense beating. And he fucking knew that.

He slowly pulled out, drool falling from your mouth as you inhaled sharply. “Fuck—“ Your voice was burnt, sounding hoarse. He did in fact keep his promise.

“C’mere…Imma fuck that perfect pussy of yours now.” Your cunt throbbed with excitement as he spun you around. Not having access to your hands, your head fell directly onto his silk bedsheets.

Your ass flawlessly perked up for him. But that leather skirt? It remained on, he just made sure to carefully roll it up.

-Smack! Theo’s hard and heavy palm swatted across your bottom causing it to redden instantly.

“Gods— P-please fuck me…please.” You begged the Italian through a whimper, veering your head to the side so your submissive eyes could lock with his.

A cruel and ungodly smile of seduction plastered over his features before he gave another slap to your ass, watching as it rippled. “How can I say no when you beg like that?” With a smirk, he slammed his needy cock deep inside of you without warning.

“Cazzo— You’re so fuckin’ wet for me-“ Theo rasped through his rough slams, feeling your walls stretch out with ease. Tightly grabbing your restrained wrists with one hand, the other dug into your hip, surely breaking skin.

But fuck did you enjoy this. “I forgot how big you were!” Crying out from the swirling sensations of pain and pleasure, he couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath.

“Yeah? I’ll have to fuck you more often, Cara Mia.” Thrusting into your soaked cunt even harder, he pulled back on your wrists, hovering you just above the bedding.

“-Yes—Yes…Fuck! I’m so close, baby—“Your moans only seemed to get louder with each passing second. The gushing sounds of your wetness and Theo’s skin slapping against your own echoed around you.

But suddenly, he quickly pulled out of you. Just as you were on the brink of climax. “-The fuck?!” Squeaking out, your brows furrowed up at him, seeing that taunting, edging look in his eyes.

“Not yet.” Firmly speaking, he swiftly untied your wrists, wincing from the blood pooling back to them. “On your back, slut.” With his demanding tone, he didn’t even give you a chance to respond.

Tossing you over on your back, a raspy yelp emitted from your lips, breathing heavily as Theo restrained your left wrist to the bed, using the sparkling lighting.

Your lips parted but no words seemed to come out. You simply watched as he moved over to your other wrist, tightly binding it to his bed frame. “But what if-“

A hint of concern tainted you. —what if something went wrong? But Theo could see the anxiety spiking within your mind. A small closed-mouth smile twitched on his lips.

“It won’t- I promise…I won’t let anything happen to you…alright, Tesoro?” He reassured smacking a sweeter kiss to your lips as he positioned himself between your legs.

That was the thing with Theodore Nott. As much of an asshole he could be with you, he would randomly show a more soft and affectionate side. Something you wanted to explore even deeper. “O-okay…” Bright red tinged your cheeks, Theo teased your leaky slit with his pre cum covered tip.

Lifting that black leather skirt so it bunched right around your midsection. “Fuck…you’re drenched.” Through a breathy rasp, he tilted his head back momentarily. And right when you’d least expect it, slipping right back between your clenched walls.

Twisting your own hands and gripping the bases of the string lights, you pulled them ever so slightly, feeling the burning bulbs dig further into your flesh. A burn you were slowly craving more and more of.

“You fuck me so good, Theo!— just like that!” Arching your back, you could feel the now warmed sheets shifting beneath your body, Theo only railing into you faster than before.

“That’s right, slut— No one else fucks you like this, hm?” His domineering tone croaked through his own deep moans. The sensations you were sending through Theodore were otherworldly. “N-no fuck!— Only you…only you, Theo…gods- I’m so close!”

Your moans now turning into screams that bounced off of the stone walls of his dorm room. He smirked, wrapping one hand around your throat, the other grabbing onto the top of his bed frame.

The pounding of the wooden oak ramming against the wall was hefty and loud, your eyes practically rolling into the back of your head.

“Yeah? My dirty little slut wants to cum? Release for me.” He husked, those dead eyes flickering between your own. Rolling his hips smoothly at great speed, he was hitting all your sweet spots.

However, as soon as you got the go-ahead, you didn’t wait any longer. Throwing your head back against the pillow, your eyes squeezed shut while your legs trembled. The rush of your juices squirting out all over Theo’s length, soaking it whole as you hit a sensational orgasm. “See…”

A ragged whisper strumbled through his lips, the Italian accent rolling off perfectly along with it. “…No one fucks you like I do…no one makes your body react the way I do…no one can make you feel as good as I do.” His raunchy words only made your heart flutter.

As fucked up as that was, it was true. You were catching your breath, your body fully limp after finally cumming. The pulsating feel of bruises forming shooting up to your wrists.

“You’re…right….”

You moaned through Theo’s plows, your gaze locking with his before you continued. “…But it goes the other way too, Theo…” bucking your hips forward, pushing him deeper inside of you. He smiled, sweat beading down his forehead from how hard he was fucking you.

“And you are also right, Bella.” His muscles flexed, both of his hands holding onto the headboard now as he let himself lose control within you. That perfect fucking pussy

“Fuckin,— God- you’re going to make me cum…Fuck—“ he tripped over his words, feeling his dick twitching within your warmed walls. His seed shooting deep inside of your cunt could have had you cumming again.

Just seeing the way he tensed up, his groans, the way he never took his hungry eyes off of you. Not even for a second. He kept his cock inside of you as he came to a full stop.

Both of your breaths matched each other, a comforting silence wrapping around both of you like a cozy winter blanket before he leaned down. Pressing a lingering soft kiss to your lips, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You’re too good, Tesoro.” He complimented, pulling out of you and watching his white load dripping out of you. Letting out a satisfied groan as he did. Theodore quickly grabbed a towel to clean you up before untying your wrist.

Massaging your now bruised arms, you hissed. Giving the Italian a cheeky smirk. “I suppose I should go finish hanging those up.” With a giggle you pulled your leather skirt down, throwing your bra back on.

But your shirt? It was a torn mess. Before you could even say something about it, Theo playfully tackled you back on the bed. “Nah- you’re not going anywhere…That can wait.”

The most sarcastic and egotistical grin spread across your face as you stifled back a loud laugh. “Oh? Thee Theodore Nott wants to hang out with me huh?” You teased him, feeling as he wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you into a spooning position. “Oh shut it…don’t let your head get too big.”

Playfully rolling his eyes, he smacked a kiss to the crook of your neck as you both relaxed. Weirdly enough as much as you both loathed each other in a public setting, when it was just the two of you— and sex was involved- Theo wasn’t half bad. You could get used to this. Maybe Christmas break wouldn’t be as boring as you anticipated.

AHHHHH THE START OF DICKMAS !!! I hope everyone enjoyed the first of twelve 🎄🎁

If you haven’t already please go check out @nottsangel @nottswitch @slytherinslut0 as they’re also doing fun little Christmas works!❄️

Dividers linked in my masterlist 🌙

Love my naughty smut sluts 💋

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 6 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: You make a mistake and get punished. You try to hate him, but there's something inside of you, clearly working against you. Stick to the plan. Play along, get his trust, get the hell out.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder and rape, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation, mentions of sexual activities and desires, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

“Where the fuck are you?! Get your ass over here, this instant!”

You froze when his angry voice cut through the silence.

It wasn’t really all too silent. Your thoughts had been keeping you entertained all morning, if you didn’t count the whole night to that as well. Unfortunately, you did. Not a wink of sleep, again.

And all because he didn’t approach you. The door to your room stayed closed, which was something that should have been a good thing in your book. He didn’t bother you, didn’t attack you, didn’t seduce you.

It was more than good, it was heaven-sent. It was a good thing, whenever he granted you a little bit of peace, a tiny ounce of normality.

And yet you found yourself tossing and turning all night, filled with the sinking feeling of...

Disappointment.

Disappointment?

Why on earth would you be disappointed?

Because he didn’t come into your room in the middle of the night with the intention to do unholy things to you and your body?

You should have been thrilled and relieved. But instead you felt empty. So empty, that once you got out of bed and realized he wasn’t anywhere to be found, you made a mistake. A grave one.

You snuck into his room.

It wasn’t like you had any bad intentions. You were actually trying to find him, to talk to him, to ask him-

Ask him what exactly?

However, your main intention was to find him. See him. Instead you found…nothing.

An empty room with an untouched bed. The second you saw that he wasn’t there, you should have turned on your heel and left. But some devilish kind of curiosity forced you to place one foot before the other until you ended up in the middle of his bedroom.

His bedroom.

Not yours.

His.

Nothing about it had been all too uncommon. It was a room with a bed and a wardrobe, a bookshelf, some notebooks. One caught your interest in particular.

A red notebook which you found underneath his pillow. Like a little girl and her diary.

What the hell was even going through your head to touch his pillow?

At first you didn’t want to, you truly didn’t. You just wanted to get a short, small peak into the room of the man who controlled every aspect of your life, even after he had explicitly forbidden it. So far you had obeyed him, but that morning some devil drove you to get inside and take a look around.

And God, how embarrassing was the reason. You were already half on your way out, when his scent caught your attention. The subtle perfume, this gentle note of him.

And that was when your mind went blank and you were so incredibly stupid. You had felt like a stalker, leaning down and pressing your face against his pillow. Inhaling his sweet scent like a lunatic.

But you didn’t really have the time to ask yourself what the hell you were doing, because that was when you found the notebook. And your hands, well, they acted like they weren’t really your own, like they were somehow disconnected from your brain.

They opened it. And what you saw confused you terribly.

On top, your name written in capital letters and crossed out.

And below that countless names. Female names. None of which you knew.

Some were Korean, you could tell. Others French. English. Slavik. Italian. Spanish…

When you heard a faint sound from the hall, assuming he came back from wherever he went, you quickly pushed the notebook back where you found it and scurried out of the room like the devil himself was after you.

Which he, kind of, was.

But he hadn’t been home yet and still, you couldn’t get back into his room. You were far too afraid that he might come back and catch you. So you stayed out of it, went back to your own bedroom and went back to waiting.

And now you were certain. He knew. He knew.

Before you even had the time to get up from the bed, he was already there. The door to your room flew open and he came in like he was indeed the devil.

His eyes were blazing with anger. You hadn’t ever seen him that angry before. Not even that one time, after you called him out on being oh-so unlovable.

And now you were sure.

He was going to kill you.

Your initial reaction would have been to beg and plead, to crawl and butter up, even negotiate.

But no. You could tell the severity of the situation had changed drastically.

So you did the only reasonable thing. You jumped up and hurried to the bathroom. You didn’t even have the time to catch on his reaction, because you were too busy slamming the door shut and locking it.

It seemed to catch him off-guard, because it took him a moment to move, but when he finally did, he pounded against the door like a madman.

You couldn’t tell why you were even able to lock it. Maybe he didn’t think about it when he made his apartment kidnapping-safe. But now you were more than grateful for that circumstance.

“If you don’t open the door right now, I’m going to kill you!”

You slowly backed away against the wall, glancing at the window. You knew it was pointless, but you decided to still try it. Maybe, just maybe, you’d get the mercy of a quick death, jumping from the twenty-third floor.

“I will gut you and then I will kill you!”

He pounded even harder against the door and you were sure it was going to give in soon. All the while the window didn’t move an inch. You started pounding against it as well, desperate to find a way to survive this godforsaken hell, but it just wouldn’t move. You felt tears sting your eyes when you realized it.

There were so many things you hadn’t done yet.

You never sailed on a boat. Never saw Prague in December. Never saw the ballet or swam in the ocean.

Never told anyone you loved them. Never loved anyone. And you never got loved in return.

You didn’t even have sex yet.

It wasn’t fair. It simply wasn’t fair.

But it was your life and maybe this was how it was supposed to end.

Maybe this was how it was going to end.

But you didn’t have more time to think about it, because suddenly there was a loud cracking sound and you witnessed in horror as he broke the door down. Your eyes widened and you stifled a sob, while he stepped into the bathroom. He was breathing heavily and moving slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. The look in his eyes was…murderous.

But the only thing you could truly focus on was the blood on his cheek. How had you missed it earlier? Probably due to the adrenaline. But now you watched intently as you saw the small cut on his cheek, messing up the perfection that was his face.

“Please.” You whispered breathlessly, but it was barely audible under choked sobs and gasps for air. “Please, I…What did I…”

He stormed forward and pushed you against the wall, so hard that your head banged against it with a fervor that made you go dizzy. His fingers wrapped around your neck, squeezing tightly.

“What should I do with you?” He whispered in a low voice. It was less of a whisper and more of a growl.

You opened your mouth to beg some more, but all your words were getting lost under a veil of tears and the symphony of your desperate, breathless sobs.

“Should I cut you open and watch you bleed to death?” He whispered as he squeezed your neck a little tighter. You coughed up and dug your nails into his wrist in a desperate attempt to get some air.

“Should I fuck you to death?” He whispered in the same feigned thoughtfulness, all the while you were ferociously fighting for your life.

“Should I make you-“ He stopped and let go of your neck. You doubled over and desperately gasped for air.

“No.” He whispered and his lips curved up into a twisted smile. “I know now.”

He looked you up and down in a way that made you less uneasy and more terrified, before he spoke in a tone that resembled gentleness.

“I’ll take something from you.”

After you finally regained your ability to breathe and gingerly touched your neck, trying to assess the damage he had done on you, you slowly looked up at him. And again, your whole focus was on the cut on his cheek. Only then you realized the blood on the collar of his shirt.

It wasn’t your fault, you suddenly realized. Not entirely. He had a bad day. And you found yourself aching to ask what had happened. Despite him taking his anger out on you, unfortunately.

But after all, it was you who went into his room, despite the clear instructions not to. Never to.

Silly girl.

“And give something else to you.” He whispered while he reached out and gently ran his fingertips over your neck. The touch made you wince.

When his words made you shake your head in confusion, he smiled slowly.

“Your name, sweet girl. It’s about time you got a new one.”

Oh, and how it hurt. How it hurt not knowing what was worse. Dying? Life hadn’t ever really been your thing, it seemed. You just weren’t good at it. But your name? At least you were someone. And now he was going to take that, too?

A small part of you was relieved. He wouldn’t gut you and hang you from the window. But he’d strip you of the little identity you had left.

Your lip quivered in an attempt to say something, but he just shook his head, the crooked smile still on his lips.

“You just made me break down my goddamned bathroom door and you think you got any right to complain?”

You stared up at him with wide, horrified eyes, your vision blurry with tears.

“That’s why you wrote all the names down.” You whispered in the voice of a timid mouse.

He hummed in response. “I was going to give you a say in choosing one. But that deal is in the past, sweet girl. I have the perfect name for you.”

He leaned in and murmured: "Kneel."

You didn't need to be told twice. You would have done anything, however degrading, if only it meant he wouldn't perform heinous crimes on your body.

You were shaking in silence, only interrupted by a few occasional sobs, as you watched him pick up the pair of scissors from the drawer.

Suddenly you didn't feel so safe anymore.

"Please."

He shot you a look that instantly shut you up. There was no way out and nothing you said or did could save you.

He stalked around you like a tiger, ready to pounce. And when you expected him to land a blow and knock you out, he instead gently played with a strand of your hair. And suddenly you were painfully aware of what was about to happen.

It's better than death, you kept trying to tell yourself. Better than torture, better than not being allowed to pee, better than being paraded around-

You gasped loudly when you felt the sharpness of the scissors press against your jugular.

"I bet you look beautiful when you're bleeding." He whispered.

You squeezed your eyes shut. A part of you wanted to continue begging, but you knew it was pointless. Not when he was like this.

Instead of stabbing and cutting you to death and watch you collapse under a fountain of your own blood, he took your hair into a deadly chokehold between the scissors. You gasped again.

"Hana." He purred. "It's the perfect name."

He tugged on your hair, making your head jerk back.

"Hana is the first girl, here in Korea. One. First. My first girl.”

He ran the scissors up the length of your hair until it nearly reached your shoulders. You held your breath. This was it.

The girl you once were was about to be murdered.

"Hana", he murmured, "makes you a fresh, new thing. With no past and no strings attached. All you are now is my sweet girl. My Hana."

You squeezed your eyes shut so hard that you got a headache when you felt the metal of the scissors scrape against your hair.

"My sweet, darling Hana." He murmured.

And then he murdered you.

You kept trying to tell yourself that you got lucky. He barely even cut anything off, right? At least he didn't cut it to your chin or shoulder length.

At least he didn't kill you.

But he did kill you. The part of you that had been you, a little stubborn, a little defiant, was gone now as well. All that was left was this obedient, sobbing mess.

He had cut off just enough to make it noticeable. It didn't even look horrifying. You knew your hair would grow back.

But would your name ever grow back?

Would your soul ever grow back?

Hana, Hana, my sweet Hana. My first girl.

The second he released you, you found yourself marching back to your room. You didn't even feel the need to run and hide. And what for? What more could he do, how much more would he take?

"I'll cut it off, piece by piece, every time you deceive me, until you look like a Young-hee doll."

You had seen the ugly, little creature in a Korean store before.

You could already picture it. You with your hair cut down to your chin, wearing a yellow shirt and an orange dress. What was left of your hair, bound in pigtails.

You hated pigtails.

"I've been too soft on you, Hana. It's about time you learned how things work around here."

And after you finally managed your death-march to your bed, you collapsed on top of it like a lifeless doll. You couldn't even cry anymore. You were too exhausted after not sleeping all night and then this.

Maybe you would never feel well-rested again.

Maybe you would never smile again.

Did you smile much before all this? No. But at least you did sometimes.

That was all gone now.

Now you were Hana.

And Hana didn't smile.

The day dragged on like that. You didn't even get up to pee when you felt you had to. It was all pointless. Why not torture yourself a little more? Maybe you deserved it. Maybe you deserved it for going in his room, for reading his notes, for deceiving him, for taking his fucking hand after he just threw someone on the train line.

You should have known.

Looking back, you should have known.

Good people don't just go around, breaking other peoples' necks. Only sick psychopaths did.

So what had driven you to take his hand?

Was it his charming, reassuring smile?

Was it the fact that he rescued you from being raped at the train station?

Was it the excitement he promised, the new way of looking at things? The prospect of breaking out. Out of your dead, numb haze.

God, how you longed for a sitcom now.

Sitcoms usually ended in Happy Endings. Unlike you. You just ended.

Hana.

The way the door flew open would have made you wince, was there any fight or any life left in you.

Instead, all you did, was slowly lift your gaze. Your red, puffy eyes meeting his in the dim light of your bedroom.

"Still sulking, are we?" He sounded cheerful. Fucking bastard.

"Come. It's about time you ate something."

You didn't move. Didn't even blink. It wasn't to spite or challenge him. Instead you simply felt you couldn't move. Getting up, eating. Water. Teeth. Shampoo. It all sounded so distant. So useless.

You had felt like this before. More than once.

Every time your mother finished beating you with the belt.

Each time you woke up in your tiny, South Korean apartment and realized there was not much to live for.

It was mostly phases. On other days you got up just fine.

But today was such a phase, far more prominent than it had been in long.

His brows furrowed and he tilted his head to the side. A part of you expected him to chase you to the kitchen with a chainsaw.

"Don't be like that. Don't give me that look."

When you still didn't move or blink, his frown deepened and he slowly moved closer until he was crouched down by your bed.

He reached out and touched your chin.

"Are you going to kill yourself now over some hair?" He mocked.

"It'll grow back." He sighed impatiently. "You know you can't starve yourself anyway. I'll make you eat."

You didn't protest, but you also didn't react.

His frown stayed in place, but eventually he sighed and leaned back.

"Come." He said in a softer tone. "I'm making Hotteok. You're going to like it."

And suddenly, just like that, you sobbed again. Very quietly. You didn't move. But something inside of you was aching so terribly.

You expected him to get angry, furious even.

How dare you complain? You’re my Hana, my first girl. My Hana doesn’t complain. My Hana just takes it.

But instead he resumed the notion of gently caressing your hair.

He would hit you.

Somehow magically make a chainsaw appear.

Instead he whispered. Deadly. Menacing. Scary.

Gentle.

"You're still beautiful."

The first bite was hard. The second one way easier. You only ever realized how famished you were, after you bit into the warm, juicy piece of heaven. It tasted sweet and nutty and buttery.

For a second, you allowed yourself to forget about it.

All you could think about was the heavenly taste of whatever it was he had prepared for you.

And then it came back to you, stealthily at first and then suddenly hitting you like a brick.

Hana.

He watched you while you ate, his eyes unreadable. He leaned back and rested his ankle over his knee, watching you in quiet contemplation.

That didn't stop you from chewing your way through three more Hotteoks.

You had these issues, these unhealthy habits of being unable to eat infront of other people. Your mother had always demanded of you to act like a porcelain doll who didn't eat or use the bathroom.

But the longer you were here, the quieter her voice became.

Until all you could hear was his voice.

Hana. My sweet Hana. My first girl.

Your tiny eating disorder slowly dissolved into nothingness, your neuroses turning into ash and dust.

You ate to survive. You ate because it gave you comfort.

And any kind of comfort was a great distraction from the cruel farce which your life had become.

“You know”, he suddenly said after he took a sip of his tea, “no matter how short your hair is, you would always be beautiful.”

You slowly looked up at him with a frown. Suspicious.

“It’s true.” He hummed. “So deceive me all you want and maybe I can prove to you.”

There it was. No kindness without a jab to follow.

You looked back down at the food on your plate. You weren’t all too hungry anymore and your appetite turned back to what it was before. You slowly reached out and took a sip of your water.

“I’m curious though.” He said calmly. “What made you go inside there, hm? What made you disobey me? Were you looking for something?”

You stiffened. What were you supposed to tell him? Hopefully he wouldn’t mention the notebook. The pillow.

“Underneath my pillow, anyway.”

Fucking shit.

“What? Were you trying to set a trap for me, hm?” His voice stayed as calm as ever, but the look in his eyes only ever got colder.

“No.” You whispered.

He leaned forward, looking at you with an disturbing intent.

“Then what?”

He clenched his jaw tightly and grabbed a knife from the table. It wasn’t big, but enough to kill you. He squeezed the handle tightly in his hand and rammed it down against the table.

Poor wood.

The cold fury in his voice felt almost as unsettling as the scissors had.

No, actually more so.

“I was looking for you.” You said quietly, unable to look at him.

What kind of idiot were you? What were you trying to do, admit to that? But maybe it was better than to have him believe that you went in there with some ill intentions. Like placing a blade under his pillow and hoping that maybe somehow he managed to stab himself by accident.

He narrowed his eyes and leaned even closer. All you could look at was that cut on his skin.

“Looking for me.” He repeated and the disbelief in his voice was obvious.

What the hell was he so furious about? He had been so calm, just a minute ago.

But with him, you could never really tell.

You finally looked back into his eyes and nodded. “I thought you would-“ You immediately stopped yourself.

Oh God.

Oh God.

You thought what? That last night, he’d come in your room and sleep with you? Were you about to just say that out loud?

You took a shuddery breath, trying to come up with some other excuse. But it was too late. He already seemed to grasp your thoughts. And he wasn’t laughing or coming off somewhat amused about it, no, the thought seemed to make him even angrier.

Whatever had happened last night must have been horrible if it turned him into that.

More horrible than what happened to you just earlier that morning? You doubted it, but still, something like concern gnawed at you.

“You thought what?” He said slowly. “That I’d come in your room and fuck you? Is it that?”

You immediately looked down at your hands like you’d been struck. Your face flushed furiously and you suddenly felt the need to throw up.

“Are you that desperate? Are you that needy? I thought you were a fucking virgin.” He practically spat the words out. And you felt more and more nauseous with every word that came out of his mouth.

“I am.” You choked out.

“And still you crave my attention so desperately that you go inside my room, even though I told you you’d get punished if you ever did? Stupid girl. Such a stupid girl. Hana, you should know better than to-“

“That’s not my fucking name!”

You didn’t know if it was the use of that name or the other thing, but something inside you snapped and your depression crumbled down just like that. You could sit here and let him insult you or you could take action and find out what the fuck was going on here.

All the while you tried to ignore the bitter feeling of disappointment and shame that welled up in you, after he tried to shame you for what? Missing him?

You nearly shuddered. Missing him? Him?

You had a mission here.

Play along. Get him to trust you.

Get the hell out of here.

Right? That was the plan. Why did everything feel so…unstable then? Especially your own thoughts. You weren’t supposed to miss him. You were supposed to run. Grab his gun, shoot him and then shoot against the lock of the door until it fell apart.

And maybe then you’d finally find peace.

Instead you sat in silence, as you watched the expression in his eyes change. The bitterness and the man that had stooped down to insult you vanished and the monster who had cut your hair and punched your gut took his place.

“What did you say?”

“I said”, you gritted out in a fit of rage, so intense it left you breathless, “that’s not my fucking name.”

And just like that he snapped. But he didn’t snap like a normal person would, no. He snapped so hard, his head nearly exploded. And he lunged at you. He lunged forward and knocked you off the chair in the heat of the moment. Your head came down onto the floor with a thud, but what was far worse was the pain that shot through your back when it hit the ground.

He was on top of you, straddling you, before you even had the time to cry out in pain. But this time, something was different. You were different.

Before he could wrap his claws around your neck, you pushed him back, with such roughness that it left you surprised by your own strength. And before he had the time to recover and slap the hell out of you, you did something even more surprising. And probably stupid. 

You punched him. Right in his face, bruising his unharmed cheek. Your eyes shot wide open, but it was nothing in comparison to his own eyes.

First he looked surprised. Caught in a cloud of disbelief. And then the look changed. And just like that he was back to furious.

Murderous.

He got a hold of your wrists and pinned them down to the ground, ignoring the wince that shot through you and the cry of pain that left your lips, when he dug his nails into your skin.

“Such a stupid girl.” He hissed. “I really thought you learned your lesson. But it seems you didn’t. But don’t worry. You will in time.”

He reached out a hand to slap you, but before he could, you kneed him right in the stomach.

He let out a grunt of pain and momentarily loosened his grip on your wrists. But it took him no longer than two seconds to regain his balance and pin you down even harder.

You writhed underneath him, fighting as hard as you could to free yourself before he got the opportunity to damage your already damaged kidney, but he was on his best way to. He balled a fist and gritted his teeth, ready to make you pay.

“What happened last night?” The question sounded so incredibly ridiculous, coming from your trembling lips, underneath him, fighting for your life. And it was so ridiculous that, indeed, he paused for a moment.

“What?”

“Yes.” You gasped out. “What happened last night? What happened to your face?”

He blinked slowly, his grip on you never wavering.

“You don’t get to ask me questions.”

“Yes, I do! Where were you?”

He had trouble to control his temper, while he gripped your wrists so hard that his knuckles were white and his hands were shaking. He pressed his thumbs against the insides of your wrists so hard that a sharp pain flared through your arms and up to your shoulders.

“I was working. I had work to get done. And you don’t get to ask me questions!” He growled.

“Yes, I do!” You repeated, growing more and more impatient. His grip on you was so painful, that your legs kept kicking into the air, desperate to find some kind of relief from the pain. But it never came. And yet you forced yourself to stay angry. Don’t budge. Don’t beg. “What happened to your fucking face?!”

“Why?! Are you worried about me?!” He hissed and suddenly he was so far up in your face, you felt his breath on it.

“No!” You hissed back, still kicking into the air like a fool. You released something akin to a shriek of frustration, struggling against his grip, but he wasn’t even trying and he was so much stronger than you. “But I know nothing about you! I don’t know what you do! I don’t know what you are! I don’t know who you are! What’s you fucking name?! What is even your name?!” You were out of your mind, yelling furiously and pushing back against him, until he actually had to apply more pressure to keep you pinned against the ground.

“You want to know my name?” He gritted out. “I don’t have a name, silly girl. All you need to worry about is that you belong to me.”

“To a ghost.” You spat out. “Because that’s what you are, isn’t it?  You’re nothing but a ghost. You don’t have family or people who care about you. All you have is your job and yourself and this soulless place with no windows to open and let some sunshine in. All you have are these walls covered in sunny colors and yet there is no real sun here. It’s a façade. Everything is a façade. Because you’re nothing but a fucking ghost. You could be dead and no one would care.”

You gritted your teeth like a feral animal, ready to rip his throat out with your teeth if he’d let you, but of course he didn’t. Instead he met your deadly glare with one of his own, except that his was far more menacing than yours, more dangerous. Crazier.

“I may be a ghost, but you still belong to me.”

“What happened to your face?” You whispered in the same, angry tone.

He leaned further down until the tip of his nose nearly touched yours and slammed your hands against the floor.

“Why do you care?” He hissed back.

“What happened to your face?!” You nearly shouted.

“Why do you care?!” He shouted back.

“Because I do!”

It was true, you suddenly realized.

You cared.

Not in a curious way.

Not in a matter-of-fact way.

It was eating away at you. You needed to know what had happened, because you cared, you cared so much, it made your insides twist painfully. Ever since you had seen him that morning, you were in pain.

Not because he cut your hair.

Not because he demanded you to take a stupid name like Hana.

His first girl.

Were there others? Were you truly the first? Why not the last? Why not the goddamn last?

Was that jealousy?

The cut on his cheek made something inside of you ache and you were dying to know who the hell had dared to put his hands on him.

He seemed to have the same thought, because something in his expression changed. But you couldn’t tell what it was. Not yet at least.

“You care.” He spat out incredulously. “Idiot girl. Are you falling in love with me?”

You scoffed. “Not in a million years.”

“Good.” He whispered and leaned closer.

“I could never fall in love with a monster like you.” You whispered back and tilted your head up towards his.

His breath tickled your lips, but not half as much as his gaze did, as it slowly slid down to them.

“Stop.” You whispered, suddenly breathless.

“Tell me that you mean it and I will.” He whispered back. His brows furrowed and he took in a shuddering breath. It sounded like an exhale, it sounded like a moan.

Oh God.

“Stop.” You whispered again.

He stopped tormenting your wrists and you stopped struggling against thin air.

You didn’t know how but somehow his touch was almost gentle.

You didn’t realize when but somehow your legs wrapped around his waist.

“Don’t.” You whispered.

“Don’t…”

“Please…”

“Don’t…”

Oh, fucking hell.

Fuck it.

“Please…don’t…stop…”

______________________________________________

Author's note: I'm dying, you are all too sweet to be true! Thank you so, so, so much for your sweet, kind words and I love you all so incredibly much! Just a few days ago, I had a moment when I was feeling like everything was going pretty shitty, but then I thought about this story and all the kind and loving support I'm getting from you and it cheered me up beyond belief. Much, much love! Lana ❤️

Tag list: @mitsuki-dreamfree @kpopsmutty69 @heroine-chique @vkeyy @mizuwki @blu-brrys @z0mbi345 @yourpointbreak @ayieayee @freddyzeppsworld @lola11111111 @indifitel6661 @salesmanlover08 @laurenbenoit70 @lalalaa2210 @lila-marshal @auspicious-lilana @0-aubrie0 @lovelyaegyo @theredvelvetbitch @violentbluess @muriels-lover @dorayakissu @eviebuggg @muchwita @ririgy @strxlemon @obsessedwthdilfs @kiwilov3 @misty-q @whitefeathers @ennvfv @heartzxx @yourpointbreak @hell0kittt @salesmanlover08 @pascalislove @nina357 @ing9449myu @vamplivivi @tvbais @ilovenana00 @misswannadiesworld @glads-stuff @chunkzdeluluwife @estreiiuh @lokis-lovely-muse @zaimeskuna @lalalaa2210

also thanks to @i-might-be-vanny for the name issue inspiration!

[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.”

[cherrycranes]

The Arrangement (Robert Fischer x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Robert Fischer x Fem!Reader Summary: You're a flight attendant for billionaire heir Robert Fischer and you have quite an interesting arrangement with him... Word count: 3,692 Contents: (Minors DNI). Ass eating (f receiving), oral (f & m receiving), spitting, cum eating, fetish, dominant Robert (but he’s not an asshole) Author's notes: Collabing again with my darling @fuckiingloser. We're back to our usual universal fem reader posting after those two beautiful christmas fics! This new fic has been awaiting for over a month now and I'm so glad to have it out. Mandatory "english is not my first language" disclaimer. There's a pinterest board link at the end so you visualize this fic. Enjoy!

Your pristine, well manicured hands smoothened your short skirt out and adjusted your brand new tights to near perfection. Your eyes fixated on the reflection of your polishedness in search of anything uneven, undone or unflattering, finding a single issue with your hair that was easily fixed with a touch. One last coat of lipgloss and you were set. The confines of the plane bathroom were replaced by the big cabin of the private jet that you now knew like the palm of your hand. Aware of what was coming, you poured a flute of expensive champagne that would await very little for your very special guest.

Timely as ever, you heard his fine italian leather shoes coming up the steps. The first thing you saw was a very pleased smirk upon his plump lips. The second thing was his pale blue eyes that immediately raked over your uniform and then noted the complimentary champagne that you always welcomed him with.

“Hello, gorgeous...” That perfect million dollar smile of his would always make your knees feel weak and your body heat up, and that day wasn’t the exception. Slick arousal already dampened your pussy and he hadn’t even taken a seat yet.

“Hello, Mr. Fischer.” Your voice came out sweet, quite adoring. His eyes kept devouring your figure, parts of you tightly embraced by your special uniform that he requested you to wear for his flights.

“Looking perfect, as always.” The scent of his luxurious cologne caressed the tip of your nose as he leaned in to whisper to you, his voice already husky. One of his hands lightly touched your hip, unable to resist the temptations of what boiled between you.

For nearly a year, you had been his flight attendant. Nothing out of the ordinary for the first few months. Usual duties of a stewardess like pouring drinks, pre-flight checks, showing the safety exits and many more things you had prepared for, filled his constant flight schedule with you. It wasn’t until a few months of working for him and taking his subtle flirting rather well, when he decided to offer you an arrangement that you definitely did not study for but you were so willing to do… 

Quite uncommon, a stewardess with benefits… Really good benefits you both enjoyed.

Fischer was a particular man, he knew exactly what he liked and wanted, and you fit that criteria perfectly. Your face, your eyes, your lips, your gorgeous body wearing that tiny mini skirt, high heels and a perfect pair of sheer tights. He couldn’t get enough of your thick soft thighs and round behind in the tight uniform he requested you to wear the moment the arrangement first started.

Carefully, you helped him take off his expensive suit coat and hung it up for him, exercising the same normality routine of two people who don’t fuck when the plane is on the air. Fischer took his usual seat, sipping on the champagne and checking all his messages and emails before shutting his phone off for the duration of the flight, playing the patient man who was not dying to touch you. In the meantime, you did your job: cross checked the doors, secured the baggage, listened to the pilots and their explanations of the weather conditions and the flight time. Once the captain and the co-pilot entered the cockpit, the flirtations were back on.

Your pantyhose clad legs caught his eye again when you strutted towards him with the calculated slowness of a hunter. 

“Time to buckle up, Mr. Fischer… Safety first…” You purred, sensually bending over and giving him a good view of your cleavage. You buckled his seatbelt for him, just to have more excuses to touch him before take off. He groaned a little, gaze dipping in the inviting warmth of your cleavage and jumping right into your eyes when his belt was tightened. 

“You look good enough to eat…” He husked, bringing a little smile to you. 

“And I'm sure you will… After take off…” You reminded him, winking.

Understanding, he nodded. The plane started to move towards the runway. You sat down and buckled yourself into the seat across from him. Flaming blue eyes didn’t stop roaming over you the whole time, scorching your skin and tightening your cunt around nothing.

The plane turned onto the runway and gained speed before finally taking off, making your ascent into the sky. Complete, utter silence took over. Both altitude and tension increased between you in what seemed to be hours. The seatbelt light blinked off upon reaching cruising altitude, his smirk returned. It was “go” time. 

He watched intently, the way your gentle hands unbuckled your seatbelt, how your knees flexed and unflexed beneath the sheer fabric when you stood up, the simple yet sensual touch against your skirt when you smoothed it out. When you turned around and bent over right in front of him to ”fix” your heel, he groaned. The tiny skirt rode up and left nothing to the imagination, and your lack of panties certainly did not help. Your bare pussy was perfectly visible beneath the pantyhose, the seams pressing gently against your wet folds.

“Fuck me…” He groaned, commanded almost. You stood up like you didn’t hear it, instead focusing on undoing his belt for him.

“You are free to move about the cabin, sir.” You purred through a cheeky little smirk, eyes on his lap tracing the shape of his hard on forming in his expensive dress pants. Quickly, his hands found your hips and his gaze met yours.

“Short flight today, doll… We better get to it.” His sensual raspy voice sent shivers down your spine and right to your cunt. Fischer didn’t wait for an answer he already knew you would say, right away he pulled you towards him so you straddled him and finally kissed him. Your tongue swirled together with his in a hot, wet mess. You moaned into his mouth and he devoured it. Big greedy hands squeezed both of your ass cheeks and you fed him another moan.

The taste of champagne, the smell of cologne, the feeling of his hands… Intoxicating as always. Capable of making your head reel and your body burn. Fischer bit your lower lip with a need impossible to hold back.

“I'm feeling a little hungry…” He whispered to the soft flesh of your lips, coaxing a smirk from you.

“Well, we can’t have that… Can we?… What would you like, sir?” You used that professional yet cutesy voice of yours that fed onto his fantasies, a game that kept him addicted and with his hands roaming up your thighs and pushing your skirt over your hips.

“I want you…  Bent over that seat… Ass out for me, kitten..” 

“Anything for you…” One of the things you liked the most about Fischer was just how direct he was. No bullshit, no guessing. When he wanted something, he said it. And, just like anything else in this world that was laid out for him to just take, you delivered. 

You traveled the small distance from his lap to the seat in front of him, knees on the cushion and chest against the backrest. Arching sensually, you poked your ass out, showing him everything he wanted.

A sexy glance back at him allowed you to see something not everybody would ever see. Robert Fischer, the billionaire heir of a powerful corporate empire kneeling in front of you like a peasant before his God, his beautiful face right in front of your ass. He moaned at the sight, sheer black fabric barely covering your bare pussy and asshole.

“Mmm, there she is…” He groaned in pure delight, a tentative thumb slowly pushed between your folds over the tights and rubbed you so tortuously slow. 

“Someone’s wet…” He cooed to you, your arousal dampening your tights and his fingertip too. “All for me...” He loved this, he needed this. You, in tights, nothing else beneath. The exact materialization of nearly every fantasy he had involving his fetish.

With reverence, he leaned in to kiss your pussy over the thin tights, his lungs filling with the mouthwatering scent. Nothing was enough for either of you, no matter the passage of time and the frequency of your encounters. Your heart still beat as hard as the first time, your cunt was just as wet. Robert still was just as starving.

With a loud cry, the intricate seams of your tights gave out to the force of Fischer’s hands, ripping open for him and granting him full undeniable access. A soft gasp escaped from your lips, both holes presented to him. 

“Mmm, that’s more like it…” He groaned hungrily.

With the shortness of the flight in mind, he dived in. You could only moan at the greedy feeling of his hot tongue parting your slippery folds and his firm hands spreading your asscheeks even farther, making a perfect burial site for his gorgeous face. His tongue worked you and slided in so needily, almost making out with your dripping cunt. Your inner whore came out in that instant, making the nastiest, prettiest sounds for him.

Humming in approval against the sensitive flesh, he devoured every inch of you,  nearly animalistic and completely starved. His tongue flicked skillfully in all the right ways, over and over, swallowing your arousal straight from its sweet source. Quickly, he lowered his head, going from your entrance and never breaking the licking path until his tongue was at your clit, swiping it and painting it with his spit before sucking on it with a calculated gentleness. You saw stars.

His needy tongue fucked your sweet little cunt more and more, to alternate, his plump lips sucked at your clit, harder and harder each time until the desperation for air pulled him back. 

“Fuck…” He groaned, sucking some air into his lungs. “Your cunt tastes like heaven... You know that?” With his voice husky, he returned to your beautiful flesh, making it impossible for you to even form a coherent sentence. Desperately, you moaned in response.

Back to you, he licked a few fat stripes from your needy clit all the way over to your ass, a hum of delight and pure addiction making your sensitive skin vibrate. Fischer was enamoured with your cunt, that was true, but your ass had him completely chained forever.

“Now, for my real treat… This perfect little asshole… I swear you’ve got the tightest, sweetest ass…” He praised it directly, prepared to show it just how sincere his words were. Flattening his tongue against your puckered hole, he sucked it a little, not wanting to overwhelm you just yet.

“Oh, fuck…” You breathed out in a whiny moan for him and his flicking, hardworking tongue that was making its way in.

“Open up for me, pretty girl…” And how could you not? He purred onto your skin and you moaned a sweet sound that he couldn’t get enough of. He was determined, his tongue licked your ass open, again and again, deeper and deeper, all for him to have a taste. 

Lost in the feeling, you reached back, finding the softness of his brown hair and gripping it gently. He moaned needily when his face was pushed against you harder, deeper in the sweetness of your ass. A complete utter heaven for him.

Aroused and lubricated, your ass relaxed, his tongue slided in a little deeper. In between fluttering eyelashes you could only see the color of the expensive plane seat leather your face was pressed upon, the only sounds your ears could perceive were the filthy smacks of his saliva as his swirling tongue rimmed you. He had taken you to the same heaven you had sent him to and all you could do now was whine loudly.

“So fucking good…” Three words and your supply of air was gone, he hummed in a satisfied response, not planning for a second to take his hungry tongue out of you to talk. Pulling back, he planted nice, wet kisses on your ass, then slipped back in, swirling all over your asshole and moaning. 

You had never let anyone eat your ass before, but now, after months of it, the desire had grown and rooted deep inside you, craving it just as much as he did. 

His talented tongue slipped inside you again, praises of how much he loved your taste and how tight and perfect your ass was overflowing his mouth. Incredible to think about, one of the richest men in the country and the most elegant bachelor billionaire had an obsession with you and your ass.

Tongue fucking you a bit more, he then stopped, finally puling away with a serious need for air in his burning lungs. Your gazes met from over your shoulder, your form shaky and well opened.

“If i keep eating that tasty ass, I’m gonna come in my fucking pants…” He confessed with a cheeky smirk, catching his breath.

“Let me finish you off with my mouth… Can’t let all that cum go to waste…” You purred so sensually, you could see the glint in his eyes forming. Right away, Fischer moved back to his seat and got rid of his expensive belt, his rock hard, aching cock pulled out from his pants and ready for you.

Carefully, you slided off your seat down to your hands and knees, crawling to him like the animal in heat you were, with those eyes that begged him to let you have a taste. His blue irises stayed glued to you through his motions of spitting in his hand and pumping himself slowly, not missing a single movement you made.

“You know what I love about you, doll?” He asked, watching you settle on your knees between his parted legs.

You looked up, hands on his thighs rubbing slowly and patiently waiting for your turn with his cock. He touched himself lazily, speaking again.

“You’re the perfect slut just for me…” He growled, blunt but very true. You were, and you loved every minute of it.

With his free hand, he reached up to grab your chin.

“Open up…” He purred, you obeyed, sticking your tongue out for his leaning form. Your eyelashes fluttered when a trickle of his warm spit fell on your tongue, you immediately swallowed gladly.

Smirking, Fischer sat back with his hands behind his head and his eyes looking from you to his twitching cock, shamelessly unsubtle. You scooted closer to him, leaning in and swirling your tongue over his tip, recreating the motions had just done to you ass. Salty precum filled your tastebuds and he sighed out in perfect relief.

Through your eyelashes, you caught a glimpse of the pleasure etched onto his refined features, his mouth hanging open and his chest rising and falling fast, his rosy lips wetted with a lick. Fischer’s head fell back onto the seat with a moan, your mouth welcomed him happily.

You bobbed your head on him, your tongue exploring the texture of the underside of his shaft.

“Fuuuck.” He groaned deeply, his hand coming to rest on the back of your hand, his fingers tangling in your hair. You sucked his cock masterfully, guided by him firmly but not forcefully.

You worked your way down to his cock, servicing him well, aware of his need of being pleased and your need to please. He loved it, every bit of your sinful warm mouth and your perfect throat that allowed him inch by inch. You didn’t notice when your nose started to tickle his well groomed pubes, or when his leaking tip was hitting the depths of your throat. A needy, spoiled groan came from him, urging you on.

Eventually, you pulled back, the tip becoming the target for your mouth and his eyes the target for your own. In a rather tender but still greedy motion, his hand brushed a strand of hair away from your face, loosened up somewhere along your service. No obstacle should block him away from seeing you taking him in.

“You look so pretty sucking my cock… You always look so fucking pretty.” He breathed out, lost in you already. If you hadn't been so busy blowing him, you would have smiled and blushed. But you had a mission to complete. By the looks of it, he was not lasting long, his breathing was ragged and his gaze was softened into two pools of begging blue. You pulled your mouth off him, allowing your hand to help you out with the shaft while your tongue took over his leaking slit.

Fischer moaned loudly through a little satisfied smirk. The tip of your warm tongue dragged from the head down his veiny shaft, taking you to his balls. With care, you sucked one into your mouth, causing his breath to hitch.

“Jesus Christ…” He groaned, no more cocky smirks. His eyelids hung heavy just like his jaw did, but even in this state he couldn’t stop watching you.

Your hand pumped him, your mouth sucked on his balls, switching from one to another when the time felt right. And right it was, you could have killed him.

“F-fuck… I’m not gonna last…” He nearly whined, with mercy and a loud wet pop, you let one of his balls out of your mouth, but your hand was still wrapped around his cock, rubbing it so thoroughly. 

“Come for me, baby…” You cooed, his vulnerability allowing this sweetness back. You smiled, adoring the noticeable fuss that took over his brain from your words and your actions. He was tip-toeing on the edge of an abyss and all you had to do was give him one last push.

He nodded after he managed to process everything fully, his lust-clouded mind not allowing for much more as his answer was just a set of little groans. Any moment now. 

You stuck your tongue out, your warmth looming over his sensitive tip as you jerked him off, your hand pumping faster and bringing his cock to you so you could tap it with your tongue.

And that’s what did it for billionaire heir Robert Fischer. His cock pulsed in your grasp, the ever so powerful man nothing but a mush of desire in the palm of your hand.

“Oh shit- fuck me- I’m coming…” He stuttered with a pounding heart, gripping the arm of the leather seat for dear life and flexing his thighs. Your hand moved faster and pulled his needed orgasm out of him.

A rope of hot cum landed on your tongue, your hand slowed around his twitching cock, milking him for all he has right onto your awaiting mouth. He watched in awe and need, embedding the feeling to his memory.

When he finished, you pulled back, sitting back on your heels and proudly showing him your cum covered mouth, swallowing it for his viewing pleasure. There was that million dollar grin again.

“That's my girl…” Through his husky voice, there was pride in it. You put his tired cock back into his briefs like it was another part of the in flight procedure.

“Anything for you…” You spoke sensually, winking at him before getting up on your knees. By this point, the routine was well practiced: you headed to the plane bathroom to change into a new pair of tights —which you kept in stock for obvious reasons—, fixed your uniform and hair in the mirror and resumed all the activities of a normal, non-fucked stewardess before you landed.

Fischer fixed himself too, zipping up his trousers and buckling his belt. After a few minutes the pilots made their expected announcement, you were close to the airport and had to prepare to land. You sauntered over to him, buckling his seatbelt on one last time with a playful wink before taking the seat across from him and strapping in.

Quiet again, you let the pilots do their thing. Your descent and land on the runway with him was never awkward. Just… Routinary. As the wheels touched down and the plane slowly rolled to a stop, you got up, gathering his belongings first then getting his coat out for him.

Then, you grabbed your bag, getting ready to head to your hotel for the week until you had to fly home again next saturday. Fischer got up, the expected envelope with cash in hand for your flight payment and extra perks.

You took in the beautiful blue of his eyes again as you accepted it, the gentle touch of his hand found your hip.

“Service was impeccable today, doll…” he started, making you smirk. Before you could thank him, a proposal left those rosy lips of his.

“Why don’t you come to mine and stay with me this week?” Your heart skipped a beat. “I've got a beautiful home in the mountains… More than enough room for the two of us… Better than any hotel…” his beautiful smile was on, his hand now caressed your cheek and fed the butterflies in your stomach.

Never, in the year you had been working for him, had he ever offered something like that. Flirtations with him and your physical relationship only existed while up in the air. But there was always something more, something that was meant to persist on the solid land.

“What do you say, doll?” Fischer cooed. “You and me… A relaxing vacation, a couple nice bottles of wine tonight? In my hot tub?” his hand still cupped your cheek. The look of his eyes was wishful, completely aware that something like that, somebody like you, was so unique he had to take the chance.

Inside, you argued with yourself. The idea tempted you but the fact that he was technically your boss tried to hold you back. He was only a handful years older than you, and yes, you had broken the ethical and traditional employer/employee relationship quite a long time ago... Before your mind could come up with more arguments, you went along with your heart.

“I’d love to…” You said back with no hesitation. 

Pinterest board so you can visualize this fic!

[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.)

[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!

[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.

[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.

[aviradasa]

The lost boys main hcs

Marko

5th times the charm with trying to post this.tumblr hates me. This isn't proofread. Sorry it's short I'm tired as fuck and irritated. But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless 🖤

Marko is an only child, and he grew up without a father. His mother was a seamstress and worked out of their home when he was a child. His mother was Italian, and his father was Swedish. When Marko was born, they were already living in the united states though so Marko had never been to either country, and he had never met any of his other family members. his dad died when he was 8, so he hardly remembers him now. His mother, on the other hand, died on his 16th birthday, falling victim to the san Francisco plague in 1904. Which was an epidemic of the black plague. He had to abandon her in their home to avoid catching it himself. Taking the last of the money they had and the necklace his mother wore with a picture of their family in it. Not long after, he found the boys, and they all stuck together (as you can guess), but not until after he struggled around town by himself for a few months. God, i need to stop making this shit sad hand on switching gears. He was the youngest when the boys got turned into vamps he had only turned 18 that summer He really tries to act more mature than he is, but as soon as something funny happens, that's over. Marko has a really good sense of humor, but he finds a lot of really stupid shit funny. He's the type of dude to watch his friends fall face down ass up on concrete and start laughing and snapping a photo before asking if they are ok (he is me) This also can lean into how he does lowkey bully people on the boardwalk. Mostly surf nazis but let's be so deadass he's kind of a dick to everyone there in his own special way. Him and paul have a tendency to double team people to: like whoever they come at wont have a chance to say anything cause as soon as one of them pauses the other jumps in to just dog on the person who annoyed them. Some of his insults get pretty creative as well: so if he says something to you thats just out of pocket,like 85% of the time its one of the ones that makes you stop to think about it before you can even get offended 🤣 Strange enough, though. He is very well spoken and charismatic when you talk to him normally. When talking, you notice after a while that he's not one of those folks that cuss every other sentence. Like he will throw it in there like everyone does, but not all the time if you feel me Idk how to describe it. he still talks like a normal person and uses slang and stuff, but he is oddly classy vocabulary wise. He's got a slightly softer tone to his voice as well, which makes his way of speaking come off smoother. He's also extremely smart. Having conversations with him is never really dull or unpleasant. (Unless you're an unlucky boardwalk asshole) Marko is very imaginative and creative. He never stops coming up with things. He hoards hobbies like a dragon hoard gold. From painting to sewing to cooking to wood carving, He just knows how to do this stuff, and he loves it. You will never catch him doing nothing. Even when he's spaced out at the wall, the dude is fiddling with something or sewing. Something together, he just can't stop. He loves giving gifts to friends as well. All of the boys have gifts from Marko that he's made himself. Mostly cause he loves showing off he has skill and unlike Paul he doesn't care if people touch his stuff so he will drag you around his space handing you stuff and showing you everything he's made/ collected cause he's just so proud. Just don't break it. He will be fucking pissed if You break it. Or if you give away anything he gifted you. Also he will talk to you about this stuff for hours on end if you let him (Do let him. He will love you for life if you show Intrests in the things he likes) his space is really cluttered. But looking around, it's mostly albums,art, fabric,patches, and various random objects.

other then that he's really clean. On that note He does not like getting covered in blood when he eats just sayin. He's like the least messy eater of the group mainly cause he hates getting it on his jacket. Plus the texture of dried blood on him makes him want to rip his skin off. It's just one of those things he can't stand So he makes sure to clean up fast. That doesn't mean he doesn't like toying with victims though he's a jumpscare master. He likes to scare his victims half to death before beating the shit outta them. He jokes that hes “tenderizing The meat”. When he does this He gets a kick outta that one. Oh he also likes music, he's not like overly into it though He likes alot of different types as well. Some of his favorite generas are Rock,goth,classical, and some 30s jazz strange enough. He does not give a DAMN what the others have to say about his music taste. if He wants to play his music it will be loud and proud. If they don't like it they are free To take it up with him. (They never will)

[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