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#you thought just moi was bad?
le-dormeur-du-val · 3 months
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I think you two would get along, would you like to accept his presence? (He will be constantly lurking over your shoulder with nothing else added to your life whatsoever)
i was in the fandom since only the pilot came out, cos of the wait i then dropped it (but hearing theres a shit ton of more now im gonna start watching the rest soon) and u call me alastor? EVERYONES CALLING ME AN EVIL GAY TWINK
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nattousan · 2 months
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when
whe you, when You were just trying to put i n some extra effort to try adn improve yoursel f and it got misinterpreted as malicious n u get yell ed at
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labyrynth · 1 year
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look. as much as i support fic writers doing their thing and writing whatever they want. it’s important that there still be some resemblance to the original characters. like if you didn’t have the names, you should still generally be able to tell who’s who—characters’ personalities and histories should be enough to give us an idea
so like. as an example. consider a completely hypothetical mdzs modern AU.
it’s about a single father working multiple jobs to make ends meet…after struggling financially for quite some time…who is subjected to a fair amount of classism and abuse…and still works harder than all the others without a single complaint…despite having seemingly wealthy family…(including a brother who gives well meaning lip service about caring but ultimately doesn’t offer any kind of substantial help)…who initially rejects a wealthy prospective romantic partner out of pride, because he doesn’t want to be seen as a gold digger or a charity case…
…where a fair amount of narrative tension stems from a cheating, absentee father who had zero qualms abandoning his kid to near-poverty…who hid the true extent of his wealth because he never had any intention of sharing what wasn’t absolutely required…who accuses others of being gold diggers or trying to sleep their way to a better position…who also appears to regularly mistreat staff, among other classist habits…who goes out of his way to be cruel, and is generally an all around scumbag…
this is clearly describing two very specific mdzs characters, right?
based on canon, the context surrounding them and the interactions they have with others give us enough information to tell who these characters are—
—lan xichen and jin guangyao, of course. OBVIOUSLY.
#jgy tag#mdzs talk#moi#brb tearing my hair out#look anyone can write whatever they want. more power to you. l#but please for the love of god just tell me you don’t actually think this is accurate characterization#if you can take out the names and mistake jgy for jin fucking GUANGSHAN????#istg y’all have got to lean what bashing is and how to start tagging it#JUST TAG BASHING PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU#I CANT FUCKING TAKE TI#look i’ll even give you the benefit of the doubt: you wanted to write a fic about jgy and accidentally mixed up all of the names horribly#like. can we address that.#like what is going on here that you wrote about a situation that nearly mirror’s jgy’s.#and yet manage to vilify the ACTUAL jgy to the point he becomes his father.#like we were talking about classism and protagonism re: wwx vs jgy the other day#and like what airplane says about shen jiu!!!#this is exactly it!!!#they recognize that something is bad when it happens to the protagonist#(or someone they consider ‘good’)#but short circuit at the thought that the Big Bad Evil Villain might actually be sympathetic!!!#so you wind up with shit like this where they abandon everything that ACTUALLY made that villain ‘villainous’ in favor of a cardboard cutout#and one that ALREADY EXISTS no less!!#there are already cheap cardboard villains in the jin!! you can grab any of them!!!#WHY did you think it was a good idea to cast the rejected bastard raised by a single mother in near poverty#AS A WEALTHY ABSENTEE FATHER WHO CHEATS ON HIS SPOUSE????#WHAT IS WROKG WITH YOU#AARRRRHRHHHHGGGGRRHHAAAAAAA#ok i’m done#consider my yayas out
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skrunksthatwunk · 11 months
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so a thing that my brain does on the reg is it makes me get nervous about a scenario (ranging from probably-won't-happen to Definitely-Won't-Happen) and then i have to spend like 40 minutes meandering my way through an improv youtube apology video until my brain feels like I've addressed the scenario about as well as i can and lets me move on. usually this comes in the form of like
you accidentally said a forbidden slur (i.e. one i can't reclaim) while streaming/in a group conversation and now have to explain that your brain misfired catastrophically hard and that you've never said this word before (true) And You Have To Do It Well Enough To Be Believed
because like. i wouldn't believe that guy either, y'know? most people in that situation just cross that bridge when they get to it and do pretty bad, so maybe my brain is trying to help prepare me via interrogation. my point is that i spend a lotta my spare time pacing in my bathroom fending off theoretical murder charges (which are either phony OR true OR a secret third thing depending on the day).
as soon as i woke up this morning my brain gave me a new one:
what if people accuse you of faking your (middling) knowledge of french? and also you're a celebrity and have to prove it by speaking french live on a talk show or something.
which like. good morning to you too, brain. the first thing i did was (slowly, mediocrely) construct an appropriately indignant sentence in my head (i haven't used french since my ap exam like a month ago) and then
BUT WHAT IF PEOPLE THINK SOMEONE FED ME THE LINE
ok we'll have the audience write in questions live
WHAT IF THEY STILL THINK IT'S RIGGED AND ALSO WHAT IF I DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'RE ASKING ((<- LIKELY AND UNCHARACTERISTICALLY ROOTED IN LIVED EXPERIENCE!!!)) WHICH WOULD PROBABLY MAKE IT WORSE
girl that's The Most i can do what do you want from me.
and then once i woke up more i had a realization in that blasted out, quiet way—like an astronaut drifting away from their ship untethered, forever. that
the prognosis of taking american public high school language courses is to remember jack shit (pardon my french). it's a classic babe it's near universal. we all know we don't know.
Babygirl, (And I Cannot Express This Enough,) No One Is Ever Going To Make You Speak French Live In ~5-40 Years To Prove You Took It In High School. Go Back To Sleep. there's only like two scenarios you can think of ever where that happens and there's like a 70+% chance you can just say no or ignore it. what a weird thing to fake in the first place too who would even accuse you of that.
anyway sometimes being a citizen of Braintown is funny and not exhausting in a kind of sad clown way but it's usually just kind of awful. something something c'est la vie
#held captive to the world's saddest strangest most confused lump of meat sitting in juice getting zapped with electricity ever#i cant tell if it's hard mode scripting or if i just fully have compulsions about this in ways im only realizing now#sorry if the formatting is a bit much this used to be a big wall of text and i thought yhis would make it more digestible#anyway i have Tendencies and Thoughts i should get Evaluated For because what the shit IS that#the sentence was smth like 'je deteste le tache donnez-moi hier soir' which like. shoulda been ce soir dumbass god get it together#(<- actually just glad i haven't forgotten it. also idk if the donnez-moi is right. every time i use hyphenated verb-pronoun stuff im#flying by the seat of my pants. also i think the 'je deteste' was different but idr how so there's what i prolly woulda done instead)#FUCK IT'S LA TACHE??? GOD THEY'RE NEVER GONNA BELIEVE ME#making a new tag for these:#skrunk story hour#in case you want more of my stunning 2 notes talespinning#me: oh if i have ocd it's pure. also me: (see above)#idk idk. fully not sure tbh. but the fact that they tend to align with the intrusive thought subject matter (moral concerns) doesn't seem#coincidental to me.#but then again the fear of doing wrong vs the fear of being accused/misconstrued (often justifiably) are separate (albeit fused for me)#anyway tell me you had to go lawyer mode with your parents to justify feeling/wanting anything without telling me that. yes im blaming them#it all comes back baby. you can't buy fear of confrontation this bad in stores you have to grow it yourself#oh also im not going back and tagging old story times unless i happen to see ppl interacting them and remember bc i usually didnt tag them#and it would be a nightmare to dig through like 8 months of blog for it. sorry 🫶#i know im sorry. no one likes those posts better than me so i for sure know and am sorry#rare skrunk intrusive thoughts L where i can just look at it and go girl no. not only no but absolutely not. but only after i do the#homework it gives me about it. hell on earth#etc etc. moving on now
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leclerc-hs · 1 month
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it's cool, we're just friends? - cl16
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pairing: college!charles leclerc x fem!reader (friends with benefits!) summary: in which you and a guy in your class are friends with benefits OR you and your friends with benefits might be more? warnings: smut under the cut! thigh-riding, throat-fucking, p in v sex!, no condoms (bad!), badly translated french (pls correct me), angst, pining, NOT PROOFREAD!!!! word count: 4.8k! author's note: so i ALMOST scrapped this entire thing because i wasn't sure how i felt about it so if it sucks, i understand LOL. i had a lot of fun writing this and can see myself writing a lot of scenarios for them like before there was this many feelings involved? like maybe a spring break one shot for them, when they hooked up for first time ;) PLEASE let me hear your thoughts and any comments you have. I love hearing from you guys xoxo
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
THE WEIGHT OF his eyes bore into the back of your skull, a palpable presence as you immerse yourself in the lecture before you. It’s almost become a ritual at this point: a magnetic pull compels you to glance his way, and there he is, a smirk stretching wide across his face, as if he holds the upper hand.
In that fleeting moment where your eyes meet his verdant gaze, a fierce intensity ignites within you. It’s as if a wildfire unleashes, consuming you with an unbridled mix of desire and exasperation. Your stomach tightens with a fervent ache, betraying the absolute irritation you feel at his ability to rile you up with one look.
Internally, Charles wrestles with the urge to gaze at you as though you’ve strung the stars and moon just for him. Yet, outwardly, he remains steadfast, unwilling to reveal his vulnerability when it comes to you. Instead, he masks his emotions behind a practiced smirk—a façade. And the blushing reaction you give him almost every time, only enthuses him more.
“Arrête!” You half-shout, though it emerges more as a whispered urgency amidst the large lecture hall.
Charles leans in over his desk, his lips hovering dangerously close to the shell of your ear, a proximity that sets your heart racing with a rapid intensity.
“Est-ce que je te verra ice soir?” Will I see you tonight?
You kept your head straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge the warmth of him being so close, resisting the allure of his voice. 
“Peut-être.” Maybe.
At the front of the lecture hall, Professor Bernard stands tall, his expression grave as he prepares his common ‘you guys are smarter than this’ speech about the recent exam grades. He highlights the alarming fact that more than half of the class received a 70% or lower. And true to his reputation as the kindest professor, he extends an olive branch by offering retakes to those who seek improvement before dismissing the lecture.
You gather your belongings, ready to make your exit, when suddenly, a heavy arm wraps around your shoulder just as you cross the threshold of the door.
You? Aced it. Charles? Not so aced it.
Which you knew meant you were helping him study as usual.
-
You watch as Charles runs his fingers through his disheveled locks, each movement betraying a hint of frustration and determination. His lips form a subtle pout as he fixates on the study material you laid out before him, his furrowed brows highlighting the depth of his concentration.
“Mon chou, je ne pensais pas que tu m’avais invite pour ça.” I didn’t think you invited me over for this.
With a gleam in his eyes, he wiggles his eyebrows playfully as he collapses on the many pillows of your bed behind him. The papers scattered across the bed threaten to take flight, but your swift reflexes saved them from soaring away into chaos.
You narrow your eyes in mock annoyance, but the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips betrays your amusement at the situation.
“Tu dois étudier.” You need to study.
Charles stares at the corners of your lips, his eyes not straying once from them even as you spoke. 
“Embrasse-moi d’abord.” Kiss me first. He nearly begs; his face almost completely covered by the hood of his sweatshirt as he laid on his back beside your cross-legged figure.
“Étudie.” Study. Your words were firm, yet you could feel your resolve slipping under the intensity of his gaze, as it traces a path from your lips to your eyes, igniting a warmth that stirred whenever he was near.
His arm reaches up behind your neck in a swift motion, too quick for you to even see it coming. His fingers grabbing the nape of your neck in a tight grip as he brings your face down to his, your body toppling over his in an unnatural position from his force. His lips collide with yours instantly, and the squeal you elicit gives him easy access to slip his tongue into your mouth. 
He groans softly against your mouth, something about how sweet your mouth tastes. The moan that escapes your lips and melded into his mouth drove him absolutely crazy. The grip on the back of your neck didn’t loosen as he held you to him, giving you no opportunity to pull away from him.
Your tank top cladded chest was pressed against the side of his body, embracing you in his warmth. You press a hand to his chest, attempting to push yourself up, but he groans against your lips in detest before loosening his grip on your neck. 
“Est-ce vraiment necessaire.” Do we have to? He begins to pepper kisses all around your face, his fingers dipping under the straps of your tank top, tracing intricate patterns of the soft skin beneath.
You slip your hand under the warmth of his hoodie, his toned muscles flexing under your cold fingertips as you trail your hand up his chest and slip one leg over him, straddling his thigh. His skin was so warm. Almost like a furnace.
He sucks in a breath, as if your touch hurt him, but really, he craved it. He wanted you everywhere. The tight leggings that adorned your body did little to prevent Charles from feeling the heat and arousal of your pussy against his thigh. A smirk widened on his lips almost instantly. He knew he had you right where he wanted you.
He could sense your contemplative thoughts by one glance at your eyes. As if you knew he needed to study, but you needed this more.
 You could barely concentrate the minute Charles sprawled onto your bed earlier, his legs spread and shorts riding up to expose the muscles of his thighs. It was even harder to think with the way his soft green eyes look up at you, and the way his fingers felt on you.
His hand trails from beneath the strap of your tank top, your hardened nipples more than visible through the thin fabric of it, to the front of your breasts.
“No bra?” His thumb rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger above the fabric of your shirt. “Planning on getting fucked, hm?” 
Your hips rut against his thigh almost instantly in response to his words. The feeling of his thigh against your clit, causing a soft moan to slip. It was then, that Charles seemed to lose all restraint as his hand grasped the side of your neck and squeezed lightly, his thumb resting in the center of your neck. He flexed his thigh, his eyes gleaming at the sight of your blown out pupils.
“Regarde-toi,” Look at you. He edged you on. “Just wanna ride m’thigh, yeah?” 
Your hips move in their own rhythm, unable to stop. It just feels too good. You nodded repeatedly as you lean over, pressing your chest to his, as he claims your lips once again. His hot, tongue sliding against yours as the stubble of his facial hair scratches your chin.
You struggle, losing the rhythm of your hips until Charles slid his hands down to your waist, guiding your movements. “C’mon mon chou, tu dois travailler pour ça.” You have to work for it.
“We should study.” You mention, the pace of your hips not stopping. As if your body has a mind of its own.
“Nous sommes.” We are. He argues, his fingertips squeezing into the skin of your hips even more. “Now, keep rubbing that pretty little pussy on me.”
-
“Oh, what about her?” You point to the pretty brunette that was currently leaned against the wall, a red solo cup in her manicured hand, as she was deep in conversation with a few other girls that you haven’t seen before.
Charles sighs heavily, rolling his eyes just slightly. “Why are you pawning me off?” He cracks a smile, his elbows gently hitting your side.
You let out a small laugh before bringing your own cup to your lips. The liquid of your drink resting on the top of your lip as you finished a sip and turned to look at Charles. “M’not!” You shrug your shoulders. “Elle est jolie and keeps looking at you thinkin’ no one’s noticed.” She’s pretty.
He wouldn’t know about the ‘pretty brunette’ you claimed was there. He didn’t know about any other girl that was here. His eyes haven’t left your figure the entire night. Since you stepped in the entrance of the house he was by your side, it was like his body knew you arrived.
“Peu importe ça, m’gonna go dance.” Whatever. You stick your tongue out at him, earning a deep laugh, and saunter off to find one of your friends already on the makeshift dance floor in the living room of the house. 
Charles leans casually against the wall, his eyes tracing the contours of your radiant smile from afar. Despite himself, a soft grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he takes in the sight of you.
“Are you sure you’re not together?” One of his friends, Alex, teases, leaning in close to Charles and handing him a red solo cup, its contents mostly frothy beer foam from an evidently lazy pour. “I was thinking of asking her out.”
Charles’s gaze drift from the frothy mess in his cup to Alex’s expectant face, a furrow forming on his brow. It wasn’t the foam that troubled him, rather, it was Alex’s words that unsettled him. How was he supposed to respond? We aren’t together but I think I’m in love with her?
Charles clenches his jaw, fighting back the urge to speak his truth, as the words “have at it” slip past his lips with a forced nonchalance. With a hollow smile, he raises the cup to his lips, swallowing the acrid liquid with a newfound eagerness that masked the bitter taste of envy and longing festering in his chest. As Alex made his way towards you, Charles couldn’t help but feel a pang of anguish, knowing that he was relinquishing his chance to confess his feelings, drowning them instead in the depths of a cheap beer.
-
“Mmm, tu es tellement douée.” You’re so good.
You weren’t quite sure how you ended up in this scenario. All you remember is being dragged away from a game of beer-pong with Alex, his fingers gripping your wrist so tightly it could’ve left marks, and shoving you onto your knees as soon as he shut the bathroom door. 
Dwelling on the how’s and why’s seemed inconsequential now. Especially with his cock buried deep down your throat like it is right now, and especially with the praises that slip past his lips.
Charles lulls his head back with a loud groan as he flexes his hips into your mouth, giving you little to no opportunity to breathe. No opportunity to speak. But you didn’t care. You would do anything to please him.
“Tellement putain de jolie, mon dieu.” So fucking pretty, my God.
“Bet you’re soaked under that dress, hm?” His grip on your hair tightens. “Got you all wet without even touching you.” His laugh is deep and mocking. You feel your thighs clench, like it was an automatic response. “Only I get you like this, yeah?”
You press your face forward, not even needing his force as you take full enjoyment in the feeling of him in your mouth.
“So eager, mon chou.”
You moan at the feeling of his smooth cock against the walls of your throat. The vibrations of your moan, immediately sending him over the edge. His white, hot cum spills down your throat, filling you up, before he pulls out. A long string of saliva follows, your eyes completely teary. 
He lifts you from your knees, the cool tile of the bathroom floor no longer your support, his thumb gently resting on your chin as he studies you for a mere second. Taking in the streaky tears under your eyes and your swollen lips. He could already feel the blood rushing back to his cock.
“Bet you’re leaking all over yourself, yeah?” You catch the smirk that pulls onto his lips before his lips crash down onto yours. His teeth nibbling on your bottom lip for a brief second before he’s pulling away, pushing you up onto the bathroom sink counter as he stands in between your spread legs. “All achy?” He cocked his head to the side a little, like he knew something you didn’t.
It was so fast, you weren’t even able to ask questions before he leaned forward, his fingers slipping into the lace of your underwear, pushing them aside, and pressing his hot tongue to your soaked core.
You swore you’ve never moaned so loud in your life as you just did in this moment.  At the feeling of the kitten licks on your clit, at the feeling of him shoving two fingers into you, finding that spot he knew you loved most almost instantly.
Your fingers franticly reached into his tousled locks, pulling his hair probably harder than necessary, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he moaned right into your pussy. Like he couldn’t ever get enough of you. Like he would stay licking you for forever if he could.
“Mon dieu,” My god. You squeal as your head lulls back against the cool mirror behind you and bite your lip trying to conceal the moans.
You look down at Charles, his eyes already staring at you, his green eyes completely darkened now. It makes your stomach do a multitude of flips. Your attempt to squeeze your legs shut from the pressure building in your stomach, but Charles grips his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh, holding them open.
A series of knocks are heard on the bathroom door which sends you into a total panic to which Charles yells “Va te faire foutre!” Fuck off!
 Your body squirms against Charles’ mouth and the granite of the countertop, but he holds you in place as if to say you’re not going anywhere until you soak my mouth.
He ate you out like a possessed man. Your chest is flushed red as the speed of his tongue picks up, sending you into overdrive. It wasn’t until he sucks harshly on your clit, the pressure of it, has you leaping over the edge into your orgasm. You came hard enough that your body arched, your fingers clenching his hair, pulling hard.
Charles doesn’t come up right away, he licks and licks until you’re pushing him off you. Both of your chests rose and fell in rhythm with each heavy breath, the lingering echoes of the lively party beyond the door gradually seeping back into your consciousness. It felt as though you had just descended from a faraway realm, returning to the bustling reality surrounding you.
His lips glistened, coated in you, as he stares at you completely fucked out on the bathroom counter. An unmistakable smugness in his expression.
His heart clenches as he drinks in the sight of you, so many emotions swirling in his chest. As you stretch your lips into that smile he loves so much, he feels a swell of warmth flood his senses, a tender ache stirring in the depths of his soul.
“Qu’est-ce qui te prend?” What’s gotten into you?
Not that you were complaining at what just happened. If anything, you wouldn’t mind if he wanted a repeat right now.
He nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, one hand leisurely slipping into his pocket, while the other moved to grasp the door handle. With a patient stance, he awaited your readiness before even considering opening the door. “J’avais juste besoin de toi,” Just needed you. He whispers, his voice carrying a tender resonance, emphasizing the depth of longing.
And then he’s swinging the door open, guiding you both back to the party.
-
“Je pense que nous devrions arrêter.” I think we should stop.
The words felt heavy in your throat as you said them, your hand clasped in Charles’ hand as you sat across from one another in the campus coffee shop.
Charles chuckled softly, taking a leisurely sip of his drink, but when be caught the seriousness in your expression, his laughter faded. His eyebrows knitted together, a pang of pain igniting in his chest and spreading like wildfire.
You watched as he leaned his head back against the booth, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if unable to meet your eyes.
“Que veux-tu dire?” What do you mean? He met your eyes again, and you noticed a subtle shift in their hue—they were slightly darker than their usual shade of green.
“Je ne pense pas que ç ava marcher.” I don’t think this is going to work out. As you uttered the words, a queasy sensation churned in your stomach, making you feel like you were going to be sick. Similarly, Charles felt a wave of nausea wash over him upon hearing your words, his own stomach in knots.
Just looking at him had your eyes burning, but you refused to let the tears fall. Despite the overwhelming love you felt for this man, you couldn’t ignore the reality that it was unlikely to progress beyond the messy situation you found yourselves in. What were you supposed to do? Be friends that fuck for the rest of your lives?
You couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. No, you’ve been thinking about this for so long, but cutting it off was just too hard. Cutting him off was too hard.
As you watched him slowly retract his fingers from yours, his hand moving to pinch the bridge of his nose while he blinked, a fiery ache within your chest grew.
“We’re friends, always, right?” You asked, offering him a soft smile, though inside, your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest. You reminded yourself that this was necessary. You needed to go on dates. Not that he was exactly holding you back. It just felt wrong to go on dates while sleeping with another.
“Right,” he responded, his expression devoid of a smile. “Friends.” He nodded slowly, as if carefully considering the weight of the situation before him.
“Est-ce que je peux demander ce qui a déclencé cela?” Can I ask what brought this up? His fingers tapped restlessly along the edge of the table, betraying his impatience as he awaited your answer.
Meanwhile, you sat twiddling your thumbs in your lap, occasionally stealing glances at them. Why did this conversation feel so unbearably difficult?
“Quoi?” What?
“Est-ce que j’ai fait quelque chose?” Did I do something?
You shook your head instantly, a small blush forming on your cheeks. “I just,” You began, but felt flustered as you took a pause to look back down at your fingers and then him again. His eyes made you feel hot all over, the way they never strayed from your face whenever you spoke to him, the way they dropped to your lips every so often as if he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you. He couldn’t.
“I just think I need to go on dates.” You nervously smiled.
“You think?” He scoffed, throwing one arm over the top of the booth, and resting it there as he fell into a relaxed position. His eye twitched slightly, as he flexed his hand and clenched it like he was holding himself back.
You’re not sure how to respond. You had anticipated this conversation to be brief, perhaps along the lines of “I think we should end this,” followed by his immediate agreement. But apparently, that wasn’t the case. You could feel yourself growing flustered the longer you sat here. Why couldn’t he just simply agree, no questions asked.
You nodded, with slight hesitance. Did you really want to end it with him? No.
He shrugged his shoulders, pulling a little smirk on his face as he usually did. “Très bien.” Fine.
And that was that.
-
Charles decided that he had it up to here when you strolled into the house party, lips shiny with gloss, and you hand held in none other than Alex’s. It was as if you were trying to torture him. Like you knew that he loved you and you just wanted to hurt him a little more.
He’s watching, you can feel his eyes burn into you as you turn your head, pretending to listen to Alex as he rambles on about some story. You don’t let yourself glance over to Charles until later in the night, when he’s leaned up against the kitchen counter, a half-empty beer bottle gripped in his hand, eyes already on you.
You felt your stomach do a multitude of flips from the eye-contact, that you even almost pulled your hand from Alex’s. Like you were caught doing something wrong.
You quickly realized that you had little to no self-control, especially when it came to Charles. With his hair pushed back and the linen shirt half-unbuttoned, allowing the toned and taut muscles of his stomach to peek through, it almost seemed as though he wanted to make it even harder for you to resist. Like he wanted to punish you for not choosing him.
He had you right where he wanted you, sort of.
“Shh,” Charles nips at your earlobe, eliciting a mewl from you as he presses you against the mattress of his bed. “You want everyone to hear what a whore you are, hm?”
Another string of moans leaves your lips as he thrusts into you, the pads of his fingers gripping the front of your neck tightly. His eyes fixed on yours, the pace of his hips was slow, but so deep. 
“Tell me,” Charles began, his tongue trailing along your collarbones and up your neck until his mouth hovered over yours. “Still wanna play stupid games with me, jolie fille?” Pretty girl.
You whined as his hips picked up in pace. “Ouvrir.” Open. You did so without a second thought, only to be met with a string of saliva meeting your tongue. Charles groaned as you swallowed his spit, eagerly.
“Still wanna pretend we’re just friends?” He could feel your walls trembling as her hand snaked its way to the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. It was a tangle of tongues and moans.
“Does he fuck you as good as me?” You couldn’t handle the way he was talking to you, staring at you, touching you. “Gripping me like you’re gonna come.”
You shook your head repeatedly. 
“That’s it,” His voice was gentle in your ear. “So good, mon chou.” 
Your breaths were jagged and heavy as he took you harder and harder. “Rub your pretty little clit for me, yeah?” 
Your body was shaking as you trailed your fingers down, fingers playing with your clit. Charles rested on his knees, his eyes staring at his cock being swallowed by your pussy, and the way your fingers toyed with your sensitive clit. He groaned at the sight of his cock coated in you. 
It wasn’t long before you careening forward with a cry, your body arching off the bed, as you came around his cock. Charles fell forward over you, an arm on each side of your head, as he cocooned you. His hips didn’t let up as you sobbed out, your toes curling.
Charles could feel his resolve slipping at the feeling of your soaked walls clenching him. He threw his head into the crevice of your neck, the rhythm of his hips faltering as you wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to thrust even deeper than before. He rolled his hips, pumping into you with such a fervent rush. 
“Mon dieu,” His groans were soft in your ear. “You feel so good.”
It wasn’t until you moaned in his ear, begging for him to come in you, that he lost all control. A deep moan, pressing his hips down against yours as he held you down, pumping his cum deep into you.
For a few moments, it was silent. Just the sound of your heavy breaths as Charles collapsed to the side of you. You both felt oddly at peace, even with the thumping of the house party music heard from the other side of his bedroom door.
Charles stood up, grabbing a towel from his bathroom, before bringing it to you to help clean you up. Something primal filled his chest as he stared at you sprawled on his bed, his cum dripping out of you. 
It was the last swipe of the towel when he finally spoke.
“We’re not friends.” He stated. He was sick of teetering around the topic. He was sick of seeing you with other guys at his house.
You opened your mouth to retort, but he held his hand up, essentially silencing you. 
“Stop pretending you want any other guy’s cock.” He stood before you as you sat up on the edge of the bed still naked, hands clenched at his sides in a fist. You began to stand up, your face turning red with anger, not because of his words but because he was right.
You grabbed your dress that was in a pile on the floor, slipping it on in a hurry. “Je dois partir.” I need to go. You began, “Alex me cherche probablement.” Alex is probably looking for me.
It was then that Charles raised his voice, if it weren’t for the loud music, you could’ve sworn the entire house would’ve heard.
“J’en ai tellement marre de ça!” I’m so sick of this! He runs his fingers through his hair, pacing the room back and forth. You felt your words caught in your throat as you stood still, your eyes following his every movement until he stood before you, his hands gripping your waist.. “Je t’aime!” I love you! He laughs after he says it, like he’s so pathetically in love with you and you have no care in the world for it.
“I cannot handle seeing you with another man.” He rambles off. “I cannot handle seeing you showing up here, to my home, holding another man’s hand.” He seethes, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to pinch the bridge of his nose as he breathes in, attempting to calm himself down.
“I know you love me.” His fingers grab your hand, pulling it up to his chest and holding it where his heart beats. Tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed at him, his eyes reflecting a wild intensity, his hair disheveled hair adding to his untamed allure. Sensing your vulnerability, he gently cupped your face with his other hand, offering you a tender touch. You leaned into his comforting embrace, as if seeking solace in his presence. With a silent nod, you pressed your head against his hand, a single tear escaping down your cheek, bearing witness to the depth of your emotions.
“I’m so sick of seeing people with what is mine.” He urged. “You can’t be someone else’s, not when you are already mine.”
“Charlie,” You drew in a deep breath, locking eyes with him, drowning in the depths of his green gaze. Every fiber of your being resonated with love for this man, an unshakeable devotion that consumed your soul.
“S’il te plait.” Please. His voice was a whispered hush as he begged. “Put me out of my misery.” 
He opened his mouth to continue, but you didn’t let him. You stood on the tips of your toes, leaning forward to press your chest against his as you pressed your lips to him. His arms immediately wrapping around your waist as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. He groaned at the taste of you in his mouth again, his cock already hardening for you.
You pulled off him, “Really?” He let a small laugh escape his lips as he pulled your mouth back onto his for a small peck.
“I’m a man in love.” He grins, like he has nothing to be ashamed about.
“Je t’aime.” I love you.
Charles tenderly pressed his lips to the side of your neck, his tongue tracing delicate patterns along the velvety skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Répète-le.” Say it again. He whispers, his voice husky with desire. As his lips continue down their intoxicating dance on your neck, his fingers trail the straps of your dress, gradually easing them down your shoulders with a tantalizing touch.
“Je t’aime.” I love you. He placed a small nip to your neck, eliciting a small squeal, as he lifted you up and carried you back to his bed.
“M’so in love with you,” He presses a kiss to your lips. “Don’t think I’ll ever stop.”
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chrisevansonly · 7 months
Text
𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜
ఌsmau
ఌ charles leclerc x female reader
ఌ apparently being younger than your F1 boyfriend is getting under the skin of some…
ఌ i just thought of this idea and wanted to get it out, i hope you all enjoy<3
yninstagram
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liked by carla.brocker, F1gossip, charles_leclerc and 216,000 others
ciao italia 🇮🇹🩷
see 32,000 comments
username okay so cute!
username isnt she leclerc’s rumoured gf?
>username yeah and she’s 19….
username she’s younger than kika💀
carla.brocker the prettiest angel🩷
>yninstagram love and miss you!!
waggossip new wag alert?
>username would be better if she wasn’t a child🤣
>username shes literally an adult wdym….
charles_leclerc ❤️
yninstagram added to their story!
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charles_leclerc
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liked by yninstagram, leclerc_pascale, apmmonaco and 645,000 others
my happy place is with you❤️
tagged yninstagram
see 87,000 comments
username he’s dating a child lmfao
username charles you could do so much better
leclerc_pascale c’est très jolie mes bébés❤️
>yninstagram merci maman😘
username she’s so pretty!!
username this is gonna be such a train wreck
lilyhme ugh so jealous when is it our turn for sunset hikes?!
>yninstagram next week?!
carlossainz55 how early did he give up @:yninstagram?
>yninstagram 30 mins in😂
>charles_leclerc LIES
username she’ll be gone faster than we can blink 😂
charles leclerc added to their story!
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wagsofF1
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liked by username, wagsgossip, francisca.cgomes and 15,000 others
formula 1 driver charles leclerc was spotted comforting his girlfriend y/n y/l/n after being seen out enjoying some time with friends and family this evening in Monaco. a fan said she looked really upset, distraught and was crying, charles looked really angry and pissed off…lately y/n has been getting lots of hate for her age and being in a relationship with the scuderia ferrari driver.
what are your thoughts?
see 5,500 comments
username i think she’s really sweet:(
username LMFAO ofc she breaks down in public attention seeking much?
>username grow tf up
username what did she expect!! she’s basically a child!!!
username i feel really bad for her:(
francisca.cgomes i think everyone needs to shut the hell up. mind your business and stop bullying people online. get a job.
>username KIKA!!!!!
>username she really said not today hoe
username i was there, charles was yelling at a group of people for harassing y/n as they all ate dinner…i felt so bad hearing her cry…she doesn’t deserve it :(
yninstagram
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liked by charles_leclerc, voguefrance, pierregasly and 115,000 others
laisse moi seul.
*comments disabled*
yninstagram added to their story!
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charles_leclerc
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liked by scuderiaferrari, yninstagram, landonorris and 645,000 others
i should have said something a long time ago but the things i have been seeing being written and said about my girlfriend are just not acceptable. seeing and hearing her cry almost everyday because people cannot be respectful breaks my heart. everyone knows I am very private with my life and with her, for this exact reason that’s been shown again and again. the night people decided to verbally attack her while we were out was completely disrespectful and i couldn’t believe what i was hearing. you all have no place to make comments, opinions or assumptions.
y/n you are sunshine personified and you are the love of my life. i will continue to protect you and your heart for as long as i’m around. je t’aime tellement mon fleur❤️
see 300 comments
francisca.cgomes we love you y/n❤️❤️
>pierregasly charles and I will go to war for you!!
>yninstagram i love you both 🩷
scuderiaferrari sending lots of love and hugs y/n❤️❤️
liked by yninstgram and charles_leclerc
lewishamilton love seeing you at the track on race weekends, keep smiling sunny🤍
>ynisnstagram i’ll try lew❤️
arthur_leclerc we’ve got your back always, you’re family
>leclerc_pascale and we love having you be apart of our family🩷
>yninstagram im going to cry i love you all so much:(
yninstagram i love you charlie:(
>charles_leclerc i love you more chérie❤️
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yninstagram
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liked by charles_leclerc, joristrouche, lilyhme and 89,000 others
just me, some watermelon and my favourite person❤️🍉
tagged charles_leclerc
see 500 comments
lilyhme gorgeous gorgeous girl🩷
>yninstagram see you tonight🥰
charles_leclerc watermelon or me?
>yninstagram you…always you baby😘
joristrouche save some for me
>yninstagram hurry up!!!!
leclerc_pascale❤️❤️❤️❤️
liked by yninstagram and charles_leclerc
francisca.cgomes i can’t wait to see you tonight🩷🩷
>yninstagram me either 🥰🥰
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etherealstar-writes · 4 months
Text
I WANNA BE YOURS | LIONESSES X READER | PT 7
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pairings: lionesses x reader
summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.
part: seven
part one here
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM
the REAL karate kid
good afternoon losers
and y/n <3
the imposter
hey
willybum
good afternoon you dumbass
and hello to you too y/n
the REAL karate kid
rude
how are you y/n?
the imposter
eh i'm doing fine i guess
stairway
is everything alright
the imposter
i got fired from work today 😔
lotte
what happened?
if you don't mind me asking
the imposter
so i told ya what i do for work yeah?
well i've worked for this company for the past
whole year as their main solo media manager
and then my boss found out that his good old
friend's son was looking for a job and he's also
a photographer and social media manager so he
decided to fire me and hire him instead to
keep his relationship strong with his old friend
the REAL karate kid
that really sucks
your boss sounds like a terrible person
the imposter
yeah he was a really difficult person
i am kinda glad tho ngl
i don't have to see his annoying face ever again
but back to job hunting again 😔
neev
if it makes you feel better
leah got head-shotted in the head
by lessi during training
the imposter
i really hope someone got proof of it
stairway
i gotcha
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maya
HELP
lotte
got K.O-ed lol
willybum
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this isn't funny
i got a full on concussion
i'll get you back russo
the REAL karate kid
not my fault you're a terrible defender 🤷‍♀️
willybum
EXCUSE ME?!
the imposter
dam
them calves 😮‍💨
has anyone ever asked you
to step on them?
neev
um y/n is there something you'd
like to share with the group ...
willybum
weirdly enough yeah
i have been asked that
elton
it was actually just y/n asking
on a secret account
the imposter
don't expose me like that 😩
meado
every time i open this group chat
i get deeply concerned for you all again
i don't even know who y/n is and i feel like
i should be concerned about her as well
the imposter
woah
meado
i thought we were getting along well 😔
stairway
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well if meado is concerned then
i guess she's offering to pay for
our therapy so let's go gang
the imposter
also
why do guys always train and
play football together?
elton
oh you know
we just like to play football together at times
stairway
yeah
it's fun
the imposter
okay ....
who am i to judge
✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦
THE LION KING SQUAD
russo
uh
so guys
i have done something
toone
oh no
that is never a good sign
le tissier
okay i'm intrigued
this is gonna be bad
wubben-moy
the fact that she's using the group chat
without y/n is not a good sign
stanway
is she about to introduce her new wife
to us or something? did you like run away
and get married in vegas or something?
charles
we literally saw her yesterday georgia
so if she had then that would be
insanely impressive
toone
is that why you weren't at training today?
greenwood
ella looked very lost today
it was worrying
russo
yeah
i ran away with y/n and we got married
toone
HUH
stanway
WHAT
charles
EXCUSE ME
russo
OF COURSE NOT YOU IDIOTS
not yet anyway 😏
but back to the point
leah was also in on this
bright
oh like that's any better
williamson
excuse me??
wubben-moy
here we go
russo
okay
so
you know how y/n's looking for a job yeah?
well leah and i thought we'd put in a
good word for her in our media admin so
that you know .... maybe she can get
offered a job here and you know we can
actually meet her and get to know her irl ....
stanway
that is actually ....
the most decent idea i've heard from ya
charles
yeah fr
hemp
oh my god y'all are such simps
stanway
shut up
toone
i do wonder when y/n will find out about
who we are or if she ever will
charles
nah she's got to find out soon with
the euros starting next week?
williamson
i reckon we tell her after the euros
wubben-moy
well that shall be eventful
part eight here
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slvtforoldermen · 2 months
Text
Pedro’s Characters: The Dick-tionary
How big are Pedro Pascal’s characters and some NSFW headcannons
(WARNING: DETAILS OF PENISES AND TALKS OF SEX - MDNI)
Part Two <3
A/N: Sorry I never continued Fluff February :(, I lost motivation so I’ll just write them and post them as a prompt list for whenever…
Joel Miller:
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Okay, all his characters are big, it’s a known fact, but Joel is 100% the biggest. Probably about 8.5 inches, with a pretty pink mushroom tip, and GIRTHY AGH! There’s a vein on it that is really visible when he’s hard. Oh and his balls are big too. Everything about Joel is just big. Not only is he big but you best believe he knows how to use it too. He’s got a daddy kink… Fav positions are missionary and cowgirl, however when he’s angry doggy or the mating press are a no-brainer. Daddy kink! DOMINANT!!! There’s no way this man is a sub, it just doesn’t work, he’s just so dom yknow, and when he’s soft, he’s the sweetest he’s ever been, but if he’s angry, hard dom Joel comes out and that’s a man you don’t wanna piss off if you wanna cum. He’s got such a daddy kink. “Fuck babygirl/boy, you’re so fucking sweet, sugar. So fucking good for daddy. Yeah baby? You like that? Such a good little girl/boy, so fucking sweet.” Daddy kink is such is a big thing for him. Hair wise? Well it’s the apocalypse so it’s probably hard to find the Manscaper 3000 or whatever. He trims his hair with some scissors, honestly he didn’t really care for shaving before you, so he just let it grow, but once when you were sucking him, you almost sneezed from how much it tickled your nose and made a little joke about it after, which made Joel feel a little bad so he cut them just a little shorter. Oh I’m sorry and did I mention… DADDY KINK!!!
Javier Peña:
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(Here I’m purely writing about Javier Pena in a fictional sense AS PEDRO, not the real guy, this has nothing to do with the real Javier Pena)
Okay, Javier, my baby daddy. Um, who said that- ANYWAYS! Javier is probably the second biggest, in joint place with Oberyn, definitely about 7-7.5 inches, as he’s nicknamed by moi, the Pussy Slayer of Medellin. It goes without saying that Javier is rough, as we’ve seen, side note: I don’t know why I thought watching Narcos with my family would be a good idea… I was sat on the couch like “😀 okay, I’m watching Pedro have sex next to my mum, just a normal Saturday morning…” anyways back to it (hehe Negan reference) but Javier is rough, doggy and cowgirl are his favourite positions, but sometimes when he’s feeling a little somber he likes a little missionary. As how domestically-kinky I like my men, I’m a little disappointed that Javier isn’t a committed man, but he does have a tiny 🤏 breeding kink, he defo isn’t a fan of being called daddy, in fact just call him Javi and he’s yours, and he’s dom obviously. “Oh carino, you take my cock so well, you good little whore… fuck… my sweet little angel.” I mean, we’ve all seen his hair, so do we really need address it, that also might genuinely be my fav sex scene in all of cinema history.
Oberyn Martell
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Okay, admittedly, I haven’t seen any proper scenes of Oberyn, because I’ve just started GOT, so I have no clue what his character is like apart from being a HUGE BISEXUAL SLUT, so he’s just like me 🤭
Oberyn, tying with Javier, is about 7-7.5 inches, and I feel like his cock is definitely a lot more tan than others, idk why, it’s just an instinct. Defo uncircumcised. His fav positions are definitely cowgirl OH and dude is the literal definition of a pillow prince, again, just like me. Suck his dick, please, just suck his dick. Again, I don’t know how he’s presented in GOT, but I’m like 74% sure he’s dominant? From the clips I’ve seen 🫣 Hair wise, do razors exists in the GOT world? Or does my man just shave himself with a sword.
Javi Gutierrez:
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Oh my sweet baby Javi… he’s so kinky. I’m fully convinced he’s into full BDSM, not so much where he has to do it every single time, but maybe like once a month. When I was watching TUWOMT for the first time, when Nick is about to go into the room with all his merch and stuff, I was dead convinced it was gonna be a sex dungeon. There’s no way a man is this sweet and adorable without being into some freaky shit.
Anyway, Javi is about 6.5 inches, with a sweet pink tip and he’s definitely a giver not a taker, don’t get him wrong, he ADORES you with his dick in your mouth, but he prefers to eat you out/suck your dick for hours on end. Oh and he’s a sweet talker, when you guys aren’t being full kinky, he’ll praise you to hours on end, mumbling in your ear how good you are in that sexy accent of his. Is a little bit of a switch, but mostly dominant, soft dom if it’s a normal night but if it’s that special night, only your safe word will pull him out of hard dom space. Definitely the type to overstimulate you in a sweet way “you can take it right sweetheart? Mi amor~ just take my cock nice and good, ahí tienes.” Um, daddy kink for surely, but not like every single night like Joel. But when he’s between your legs, and he’s stimulated you so far into sub space, and you’re struggling to keep your eyes open, and you’re reaching up for him, babbling how good his cock feels in your hole, he can’t help but coo down at you and praise you so hard. He’s not bald, but his hair isn’t long, just trimmed to the point where it tickles your nose when you suck his cock.
Din Djarin
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Okay, so I think it’s canon that Din hasn’t really ever felt human touch, so I feel he’s really inexperienced… but the dude’s got a pretty dick. Like it’s just so… pretty. About 6 inches with a sweet baby pink tip, he’s so sensitive too. He loves head but he really can’t say it, he’s just too embarrassed. I just get the vibe that he’s mostly subby. He tried to be dom once but the poor baby couldn’t handle it all. But then he tried again and he did so good, but it tired him out, so if he’s domming, which is once in a blue moon, he’s going to be soft, maybe even softer than Javi. Mommy/Daddy kink!! “Please, I’m good right? Please, please tell me I’m doing good… you always feel so so good, I love you so much.” Please, he’s so sweet I love him. It’s rare that you guys get off together because of reasons due to his upbringing and stuff so he just likes being taken care of, the sweet boy. Before you, he never really cared for shaving, so when you first strip together, he’s a little nervous about it, and then after that he trims it, quite short.
Marcus Moreno
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If anyone says this man is a hard dom they’re just kidding themselves, this man is the sweetest man out there, obviously not as much as Din ofc <3.
Marcus has an obsession with using his hands, making you cum just by fingering you. Then when he’s inside you, he slips his fingers into your mouth, or around your neck, or on your cheek. His dick is about 7 inches, and like everyone else, knows how to use it perfectly. Angel is one of his favourite nicknames to call you. “My perfect Angel, taking my cock so good baby…” whilst hes thrusting into you ever so gently. Would never EVER do it when Missy is around, so quickies before picking Missy up from school are his go to, but he loves the days where his mom can take her out for the day or even a grandma sleepover so he can be with you for hours. You under him, over him, him inside you, his good girl/boy, his good angel. Pleasuring you until you get numb. The armpit hair in the scene of the gif gets me and idk why, I have never had a thing for armpit hair but maybe I’m just really horny, but his hair down there is nice and trimmed, not bald, never bald.
Tim Rock(Hard)Ford
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Here we go…
Oh Tim man! I have a teensy 🤏 detective kink so when Pedro played this role it was over for me.
Maybe it’s the greying, like Joel, but I feel like he’s huge, just like Joel. He’s 8 inches, living his best life. But he’s just a tired old man, so when he gets home, please just get on your knees for him, he’ll just lay there, stroking your hair, praising you, telling you how good you suck his cock. Then he’ll bring you up to the bed and return the favour, making sure to always get you to tell him about your day as he does so. Saturday nights are always his favourite time to rail into you, he’s had the whole day off, just resting, watching you walk around, getting him so worked up. He has a domestic kink. So seeing you do chores get him so hard. Loves fucking between your thighs when you’re sleeping because he gets home so late and just needs a little relief, but you look so cute and peaceful while you sleep and because he’s so considerate, he doesn’t wanna wake you. “So good for me baby, so good for daddy, gonna fill you up, you’re not gonna let any of my cum slip out right, gonna keep it all in your tummy, yeah, that’s it, cum for me.” TALKS YOU THROUGH IT!!! Sleeps naked. Not trimmed, not shaved, just grows it out, he’s old so he doesn’t care, it’s not like anyone but you would be seeing him like this anyways.
Dieter Bravo
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I love Dieter, he’s so cute.
Not dom, but not sub either, just dom enough to see you break under him but sub enough to whimper and get soooo desperate. Such a huge pillow prince, he loves it when you suck him, especially when you grab his balls and caress them, he cums so quick when that happens. He’s about 6.5 inches, and it loves fast, not as in quickie, but he loves seeing you fall apart as he jackhammers into your hole. When you ride him he gets so sweet, and he can last long, don’t worry, but you just look so pretty on top of him, he can’t help it, please don’t be mad at him. Has a thing for dry humping, especially in the morning when he’s too lazy to move properly. “So good baby, oh yeah, fuck, grind against me just like that, mmmf fuck…” loves to beg and watch you beg, he’s so good to and for you, don’t doubt him ever. He doesn’t shave, he trims it, but he’s so goofy, so once he shaved it into a heart.
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secretwritingspot · 5 months
Text
Conjugate The Ways
Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader
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Rating/Content Warnings: R/18+ content but again no actually doing the do - I do actually write smut I swear but these first two are tame comparatively - sexual content, excessive dirty talking (and excessive bad French), maybe sexual harassment if you squint but it's not really creepy tho because she doesn't notice? It's hard to explain but basically just Sanji saying all the raunchy shit he thinks to reader in French so she doesn't understand so. Yeah whatever that counts as. Implied AFAB femme presenting reader but not too much, just a few lines here and there.
Summary: Sanji runs out of new ways to call reader pretty, so he comes up with a...new strategy. Approx. 1.3k words.
Disclaimer(s): I absolutely do not speak French (unless you count the one and a half years I took back in highschool, which I DEFINITELY don't 💀) and, ironically to the title, the conjugation is probably terribly off here, since it's a mix of Google translate and language AI chatbots. But I thought the concept was silly and hot and I would rather die than hand this off to someone who actually speaks French to proofread because shit gets NASTY. Also there's one line at the end implying reader is American but feel free to ignore that if you're not lmfao.
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The day Sanji found out you were easily flustered was the best day of his life.
There was no one else on the crew to really appreciate his efforts, not in any interesting ways, at least. Nami’s exasperation and Zoro’s disdain were amusing in their way, but neither was the reaction he was looking for.
You, however- well, you were just a masterpiece. As soon as you'd joined the crew of the Going Merry, you were a bright little ray of sunshine lighting up the constant angst aboard the ship. You were truly pleasant to flirt with, too. You'd stumble over your words and mumble sheepish thanks at his compliments and go pink at his pet names. Not even a week into joining, the name “mon cœur” had stuck, because of how much the term of endearment made you blush.
He asked why that in particular got to you, and you confessed that something about it being in French made it seem more intimate coming from him, which he supposed made sense. He also made it a point to speak French to you more often, even if you had no idea what he was saying.
After a few weeks, though, he ran into the same problem he often ran into in English- there are only so many ways to say the same things twice.
Eventually, he'd run out of synonyms for beautiful, his compliments would grow stale and repetitive. Not that you minded, of course, angel that you were. But the hobby lost a bit of it's appeal. That was, until he figured out the loophole:
No one else aboard the Going Merry spoke French.
Unlike in English, if he ran out of new compliments and sweet flattery, he could just say exactly what he was thinking with the same soft, gentle lilt to his voice that he used when delivering one of his many declarations of love and you'd never know the difference.
He'd tested his theory a few times when you helped him prep in the kitchen and it worked like a charm, you receiving his declarations that “j'adorerais voir tes jambes écartées”, and “j'aimerais te faire mendier pour moi”, as if they were glowing performance reviews- which you probably thought they were, given that the only commonly understood part of either statement was “j’taime”.
It became easy to fall into the habit after that.
“Je veux t'ouvrir sur mon queue, mon cœur.”
“Hmm?”
You looked up at him like you always did, with those big doe eyes full of curiosity and fondness, and he almost felt bad.
Almost.
Instead, he brings a hand down to ruffle your hair gently with a lovesick smile on his face.
“Oh, nothing to worry your pretty head about. Just how gorgeous you are. Je t'emmènerais sous tes draps, comme une pute, et te ferais jouir encore et encore, ruiner ta petite chatte.”
Like always, a pretty pink flush bloomed high on your cheeks, the color somehow making you look more naive. He wondered how dark your blush would be if you knew what he was really saying.
“Y'know, if you ever want me to actually be able to respond to you, you're gonna have to teach me French.”
You tease lightly, and now it's his turn to blush, though for a much more incriminating reason.
“Sure, mon cœur. Someday."
You hum softly in response and he studies you in the moment’s silence, peaceful and calm and comfortable in a way silence could only be between two people as close as you. Pretty eyes with long lashes, soft skin, full lips. What a sight you were.
“Y'know, sometimes I can guess. Not much, but a few words here and there.”
His heart stops beating.
“…oh, can you?”
You look away shyly, an endearingly sheepish look of pride crossing your face.
“Well, y'know- words that sound similar in English. Universel and pour and en."
Sigh of relief, breath out. Respond before you look too suspicious.
“Well, it'll get a lot more complicated than that if you ever really want to learn.”
You pout at that, posture slumping a bit in disappointment as you switch on your intentional puppy dog eyes.
"C'mon, please Sanji? At least teach me a few words?" You bargain, batting your lashes up at him. "I promise not to completely butcher them."
He just rolls his eyes fondly, shaking his head and mumbling under his breath to himself.
"Mon cœur, je pourrais dire n'importe quoi que je veulent, et tu n'en devinerais rien."
He brushes a hand through his hair for a moment absently, sighing to himself. Damn your persuasiveness.
"...fine, love."
Your face lights up. Maybe this isn't the worst idea in the world.
"To start, I'm sure you want to know what your name means, hm?"
"I mean-" You huff slightly at his words, folding your arms across your chest in an endearingly flustered sort of defiance. "I already know what that means!"
He raises a brow teasingly and paces slowly to the wall, leaning up against it with crossed arms and a smirk. The sudden attitude amuses him.
"Oh, do you? Enlighten me then, mon cœur: what have I been calling you this whole time?"
Proving his point, you go silent for a moment, flushing sheepishly.
"I...get the gist of it is what I'm saying!"
He raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth in mock-surprise, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.
"Ah. You "get the gist", do you?"
You huff, annoyed at his teasing, and look away.
"Fine. I don't know what the stupid nickname means, Sanji. Happy? I swear, you're such a-"
"Ah ah ah- no. No, mon cœur, this...is a learning opportunity," he cuts you off, voice growing soft as he walks back to you, gently grabbing your arms to uncross them. He coaxes you back to a more relaxed state, rubbing your shoulders soothingly.
"No need to get upset, hey? I'm only teasing."
You roll your eyes but accept his apologetic soothing nonetheless. Yes, he's an ass sometimes, but he's yours.
"Besides, love-"
He leans in teasingly close and all of a sudden you find yourself boxed in against the wall, framed by a hand planted next to your head that he uses to lean in, tilting your chin to the side gently to whisper in your ear.
"French is the language of love, not something you "get the gist" of."
He leans back with a satisfied smirk and you must be blushing to your ears at this point, trying and failing to laugh it off with a nervous shake of your head.
"Yeah, yeah, fine. Got it. You can't "get the gist" of French."
"Glad we're in agreement, then," he grins, striding casually back to his seat as if nothing had just happened. He stops mid way for a moment, tossing over his shoulder-
"It means 'my heart'. Meaning-wise it's closer to 'sweetheart' or 'love', but literally translated...'my heart'."
He sits back down lazily and you swallow, trying to remember your words as your brain starts up again.
"Oh. Right, that- that makes sense."
You clear your throat awkwardly and pull out your compact mirror as discreetly as possible to check if you look as flushed as you are. It's not too bad, thankfully, but you have the feeling he knows anyway.
"To use it in a sentence: je vais te putain jusqu'à ce que tu supplies et que tu appelles mon nom en ce joli accent américain, mon cœur."
You can't help but smile at the soft, lilting voice he says the words in, the little nickname feeling even more special now that you understand it.
"What does the rest of the sentence mean?"
He just chuckles and shakes his head, though you're not quite sure what's so funny.
"I'll teach you later, sweetheart."
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amaranthineghost · 5 months
Text
| RED IS FOR FERRARIS AND CHRISTMAS ( charles leclerc. ) |
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ꕥ pairing: charles x reader
ꕥ summary: she decorates for the holidays with white and blue, but for him, it doesn't cut it.
ꕥ authors note: thank highschool french for some speaking knowledge (with some Google translate sprinkled in) also pretty short because i lack Christmas ideas and I wanted to get this out before i work ungodly hours this weekend but it's still cute so <3
"MON AMOUR, what is this white and blue bullshit?" the monégasque spoke from behind her. she turned to see a look of disbelief creased on his face. she scoffed as she strung the ribbons about the room.
shaking her head as she tied it off and stepped down from the ladder, she took a step back to admire her work, "figured you had enough red trauma in your life," she'd poke fun at charles, a smile gracing her face as he, undoubtedly, stared at her in admiration. but he'd prefer red.
"not funny, chérie." he deadpanned, though she could see the smirk that pulled at his lips, "red is better than whatever this shit is." he shook his head, hand on his side as he looked up at the decor.
she pouted, "but the white and blue looks good, besides it's too much work to redo it all."
"I'll help you."
she rolled her eyes, burning holes into his as she heavily sighed. she rolled her neck to look at the strung ribbon and ornaments she'd worked hard to decorate.
he admired the effort and dedication to her christmas spirit, and honestly, he was just poking fun. as long as she was happy, it didn't matter to him if they were blue or white, or even the most hideous of neons if that's what her heart desired. he just wanted to poke fun at his love for not using the color that dominated his life, in a good or bad way.
at the end of the day, he'd know that no matter how she decorated, it'd end up more beautiful than the previous year as he'd increase the budget at which how much she could spend because let's be honest, he knew she'd come home with more bags than what could fit in the apartment if he didn't limit her spending. she was like a little elf compared to the mountain of items she bought, excluding gifts.
he didn't care how much of his money she spent, he'd gladly push as much of it towards her as he could because he had more than he could ever spend, and if he knew one person that could, it was her.
his hands would find their way around her waist, sliding his face into the crevice of her neck and inhaling the addicting smell of her shampoo lingering in her hair, the faint perfume residing on her skin as well.
his lips would leave faint kisses along her neck, muttering against her skin, "c'est jolie, chérie, tu peux le laisser." (it's pretty, darling, you can leave it.)
her voice would go up an octave as his warm skin pressed hers, smiling widely at her work, "merci beaucoup, mais je pense que le rouge serait plus joli." (thank you very much, but I think red would be prettier)
"moi aussi." (me too.) he agreed with her, feeling the smirk of his lips against her skin, she rolled her eyes, but regardless, she'd pull out the red decor from the years prior. though she didn't mind him forcing his ferrari trauma on her, she did like the change up, but she knew that he'd secretly prefer red.
but she didn't know that he just liked whatever she did. anything she did was perfect to him and he loved every idea that her mind thought of. she was sacred and he would protect that.
he'd watch her vigorously tear down the blue, but left the white, which he didn't mind as it contrasted nicely against the dark red she'd chosen and the gold accents that complimented it.
she'd stand tired, half-lidded eyes as she turned around the room to admire her work when she'd hear the footsteps of her love from behind her. she heard glass clink on the end table of their living room as he caught her hand in his.
he twirled her around the room, the soft piano sounds of christmas music played throughout the apartment as they swayed to the sound.
"très belle," he'd coo, "juste comme toi." (very beautiful, just like you)
she'd blush, feeling the heat rush to her face, "et tu es très beau." (and you are very handsome) she replied shyly, a chuckle escaping his lips at her demeanor, even though she'd heard the words numerous times.
"merci, mon amour."
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nrdmssgs · 7 months
Text
How your first kisses with Nikto and Gromsko would feel
Masterlist Part 1 (Gaz, Soap, Ghost) Part 2 (Price, Nikolai, König)
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Never wrote for these two, but... hey, why not? Maybe I got too carried away with Niktos drama.
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Nikto
A few saw the fear in this man's eyes. But here you are: looking him deep in the eyes and witnessing panic taking over Niktos mind.
The only time, he takes off his mask with you around is when you are sleeping. No matter how much reassurance you gave him - he only allows himself to spend a few hours without disguise, strictly when you can't see him.
Sometimes you wake up, feeling him sliding under your blanket, pressing his chest against your back. But he never lets you turn back to face him. Any attempt of yours ends up with Nikto hugging you tighter, burying his face somewhere between a pillow and your hair, muttering 'Spi krepko, moy svet*'.
You are his light, so he is determined to never darken your life with the sight of his face. So imagine his horror when he wakes up from the touch of your fingers on his cheek. He must have relaxed too much, didn't notice you shifting in your sleep. And now it is too late: you see, even worse - you feel his ugliness on the tips of your fingers.
He freezes, but something unkind awakes in his eyes. Guilt, self-hatred, doubt.
"We must go." Nikto snarls raspy and sharply pulls away from your hands. He must disappear from your sight, stop harassing your soft soul with his face right now.
You know, how bad it is when this 'we' appears instead of 'I'. This rarely happens, but when it starts - he abandons you for weeks, sometimes for months, hiding somewhere from the entire world. And you can't let this situation escalate.
With one swift motion, you catch his hand and pull it to your face. His name, not a call sign, his real name escapes from your lips and that catches his attention.
"Look at me. Stay close and look at me, love." You talk to him, as if you are guiding him through all his terrors towards a solace, he usually finds in your eyes.
As his fingers trace your features, you mimic his movements, letting him feel, how his touch feels against your skin. Slowly, his breath steadies.
You don't rush it: you let him calm down and get comfortable before you lean closer and plant the softest kiss at the corner of his lips. Nikto doesn't lean back, doesn't push you away, but he presses his lips firmly together and slowly shakes his head in silent refusal.
I can't.
You learned to understand him, even when he doesn't let some thoughts out. It wasn't the easiest thing to do, but you learned to read it in his eyes. And now you see regret and sorrow. His face stays calm, but his eyes scream 'I would give anything to be able to dare, but I can't'.
So you do it for him: dare to cross this line instead of him. Your first kiss is left unanswered, but as you brush your lips against his again and again - he closes his eyes, lowers his head in a final attempt to regain control over himself, but fails and catches your lips in a short, but desperate kiss.
His answer to your caresses is like a distant storm - abrupt touches to your lips resemble lightning dancing over the horizon, his hands slowly bringing you closer shatter your mind like a thunder. Never have you ever felt so much from so little contact. This man has such a power over you - it should scare you. But you feel like you want more: you want his lips to linger on yours for a longer time, you want his hands running all over your body.
You allow yourself just a taste - a tip of your tongue lightly traces just a few millimeters of his Niktos lips, and he groans quietly. As he pauses for a moment to look you in the eyes and maybe find there regret or disgust, you can barely calm down your deepened breath and ask, plead to keep kissing you.
He traces his fingers over your jawline and deepens the kiss, gradually leaving sorrow and fear of scaring you away behind. For who is he to deny his light's wish? Nobody. Nikto.
Spi krepko, moy svet* - sleep well, my light
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Sobieslaw "Gromsko" Kościuszko
Two main things, you've learned about this big burly loud guy over the years of your friendship are his incredible hospitality and absolute forgiveness. Those, who don't know him, may be afraid of Gromsko the first time they see him, but you know the guy too well for that. He is a giant softie, when it comes to you.
So there were no allegations, when you not even offered, but straight presented him with a fait accompli, that you are cooking a dinner at his place the next time, you visit him. You didn't tell him, but you were afraid, that if he cooks once again for you - you are not leaving his house, you are rolling out of it. His eagerness to feed you could compete only with your granny`s. Maybe it was a cultural thing, maybe he genuinely was worried about you being too small - but Gromsko saw it like his top priority mission.
"Sobieslaw, stop it right now, or I'm chopping your fingers off!" You laugh, maneuvering a kitchen knife, so that it touches only carrot. It's impossible to shield a cutting board from him, as Gromsko practically envelops you, laying his chin on the top of your head and stealing a bite of every single ingredient, you use.
"I'm helping, słoneczko*!" You like the feeling of his voice, reverberating in his broad chest. It is like a purring cat, pressed against your back.
Maybe you lean back on him too obviously, because at some point he smirks and asks if you need more space.
"I'm fine, So. Just... just try to not eat our dinner before I even cooked it, ok?" You are still giggling and don't even notice, how he drops his face into your hair and just stands like that, drowning in your scent.
"Good. It is good, you feel fine, when I'm around." Suddenly his voice is much softer, and you hear him right above your ear.
He brushes your hair off the side and plants a small warm kiss right behind your ear. You freeze, not sure, how to interpret this sudden shift in your friend's behavior.
"I should stop, or you're chopping my fingers right now?" He is so close, yet he doesn't touch you anymore. Not until you let him.
You slowly turn to him. "I should, if you didn't mean, what you just did."
His face lights with the happiest, widest smile.
"Oh, but I do, słońce. I certainly do."
His kiss on your lips is incredibly soft, his warm breath tickles your skin, as he cups your face. Sobieslaw is caring in every his motion, helping you to relax and just live in this moment. He smiles into your kiss, gives you a complete freedom to do whatever you feel like, only showing you, that there is nothing, he wouldn't do for you. As his tongue brushes against yours, warmth ignites deep in your chest and feels you with a sensational feeling. Feeling of becoming his.
słoneczko and słońce - sunshine
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khristie16 · 9 months
Note
Dom Charles Leclerc sub Italian reader, a very long, hot spanking punishment (belt too) for the reader because of her rebel/bad attitude in their previous fight/discussion, bend over the table rough sex, wrists tied using the belt, a lot of dirty talk (in French too) and teasing, "Oui, Monsieur", after sex soft/gentle Charles. Thank you so much!! 🥰
This was so fun to write! Thanks for the tip!!:** Warnings: see above, swearing
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I said No Charles! What do you mean no?? Like a fucking NO! Excuse-moi?? he looked at you in disbelief. You think it was my fault the guy touched me? You really think that huh? No it is not your fault but I told you to stay away from that group of people! And you think you can boss me around like that? Well, you are my girlfriend. So when I don't like something, I will tell you. Well then you have to accept I'm not gonna do everything you say! YN - his eyes incredibly dark. NO! Cazzo. - you stormed out out of your place. Leaving Charles behind. -
As you went back to your home after some time of cooling down, since you have a short tempered personality, you opened the door and saw literally nothing inside. It was dark everywhere. Gulping slightly, you were trying to find the switch to turn on the lights. As you were reaching out, in the exact moment someone grabbed you by your wrist and swung you around so you felt someone behind your back. It was a hard landing. Being pressed to someone's torso behind you.
Ma che cazzo?! He jerked you with such force that you hissed in pain. I'm so DONE with your SWEARING at me. - deep and harsh tone of his startled you. Charles! as you screamed when he tossed you on the couch. As you turned around to lay on your back, he switched on the little lamp on the side of the conference table. Take your skirt off. You furrowed your eyebrows on him. Do as I say YN or you will suffer more. - he glared at you. As you were trembling to take your skirt off, you looked rather mad. And don't give me that look. Or I will tie you up to the bed for one week straight without you able to do anything rather then taking my cock. Begging me to stop. As you opened your mouth at his rude words, he shoved his point and middle finger to your mouth. You gagged immediately. He pressed his two fingers inside your mouth and his thumb under your chin to squeeze his hold on you and putting so much pressure you had to obey to his movements. He got you to your knees in front of the couch.
Bring the ice, now. As you were trying to bring some oxygen again to your lungs, you stumbled and got up to your legs. He grabbed you by your arm and put you to your knees again. This man had incredible strength. Did I tell you to stand up? As you were looking to his eyes, you saw pure rage. You got so afraid to do anything. Afraid to talk. So you just shook your head. Words…. he exhaled as If he was done with you any second. No… No what? No Charles, you did not. I'm not Charles anymore. - giving you the glance again. You felt tears welling up in your eyes.
You knew what he meant by that. It happened just once when he took control over you so much you thought it is impossible to be this dominant over anyone. It was just once because it was so intense for you you cried so much and begged for not doing it ever again. But Charles was not playing with you anymore, not today. You fucked up bad.
No, Monsieur. He just nodded - Now get the ice. As you were going on all fours to the kitchen, getting the ice from the freezer, tears running down your face, sobbing quietly so he doesn't hear you. When you got back, tottering from side to side, you stopped at his feet. Crying more loudly than you indented to. You crying now? - he chuckled - Should have thought about that earlier when shouting and swearing at me. He took the ice from your hands and placed it somewhere, since you were still looking on the ground. Bend over the couch. Qui, Monsieur.
As you grabbed yourself from the floor, you carefully walked to the couch and laid down, hearing nothing around you. It was so quiet. The only thing you've heard were your sobs. And your fearful thoughts loud and clear in your head - you awaited the worst. As you were lost in your thoughts, he got you snapped back in the moment by slapping your bare cheeks. He left his rings on his fingers, a high possibility he will tear your skin since it happened once already. His spanks were rough and hard as his soul right now. You squeezed your eyes as you processed the pain. Trying not to scream. You think you can raise your voice at me? or swear at me? SLAP You were moving up and down since you wanted to make friction elsewhere to not feel the pain. You will pay for that, cherie. He slapped you five times in a row making you scream and shout Please stop-p - making it hard for you to even speak since all you felt were tears and frog in your throat. Shhhh, don't be loud cherie. Neighbors don't need to know you were a bad girlfriend right? Slapping you again for six times. You buried you face so hard into the couch, you could hardly breath. You wanted to disappear so bad in that moment.
You hissed when suddenly you felt the ice on your skin. Shh, don't move. - he put his big hands on your hips to hold you still. Grabbing your skin roughly you felt the skin was already bruised. C-Charles *sob* - he slapped you right away, grabbed you by your hair and spoke directly to your ear. I'm N.O.T. your Charles anymore. I'm sorry monsiuer, - crying so much you were surprised you could talk - I'm s-sorry. You better be. As he continued to cold your cheeks, you stopped moving and shivering. Thinking you are done with the punishment, which made you slightly happy again. But Charles thought different. As you were staring blankly to the floor around the couch, thinking you paid for your previous behavior, you heard a belt clinking. As you moved your face to its direction, you saw Charles standing above you with the belt in his right hand. Your eyes almost fell out, stopped breathing as well…
Ma cherie, you will be a good girl won't you? - smiling at you like a devil itself. You started crying again, but nodding at the same time. Qui, Monsieur. As you put your head back, tears running down your cheeks, you awaited the pain. One, two, three… you grabbed the couch with your hands. The pain was unbearable. More painful since your skin was cold and heating up at the same time, making it extremely painful. How would you rate your previous behavior? Che? - you asked since it was so hard to concentrate on anything else but pain. Three hard smacks with the belt. D.o.n.'t. make me r.e.p.e.a.t. myself. I don't know! - sobbing so hard. - Five, five…. - you hoped your prayers will be heard. Five? - he chuckled loud. - I'd say at least sixteen. As he started his count, you screamed desperately, taking your hands to hide your cheeks. His movements stopped for a sec. T.a.k.e. your hands away RIGHT NOW or I will slap them with the belt as well. You suffered but obeyed. Sobbing and crying on the couch as you slowly put them beside your laying body again.
When he got to the number sixteen, you were just crying with your eyes open, no facial expression whatsover. Awaiting the end. Si jolie fille. Look at the color cherie. - you heard a camera shot sound. As he was walking to where your face was, grabbing you by the hair and showing you the photo. This is you. You get this for mistreating me. You saw how badly red your ass was, seeing the scarred skin - devastated Que c'est beau. He grabbed you under your armpits, putting you in the air as if you weighted nothing and tossing you next to the the kitchen counter. Your hips bumped to the edge. Take off your shirt. - you did as he said, your whole body trembled right now. He went for your nipples, squeezing them harsh between his fingers, making you put your head back to his shoulder and moaned. Now he was aiming for your neck, sucking harshly and making hickeys all over your skin. You were a moaning mess right now. He chuckled at such condition of yours. You won't ever disobey me again, If I say you don't go to talk to anyone, you just won't. Or else I will make out of your neck a hickey graveyard it will be so embarrassing for you to go anywhere in the public… silence and sobbing.
He grabbed you by your hips and pushed you towards the table in front of the window in the living room. You yelped as your hips hit the edge of the table. Before you could stand up he was already right behind you. Spread your legs for me. - you cried out out loud since you knew what will come next. You felt his fingers running down your folds, humming as he liked what he saw. What a beautiful view ma cherie. You are so wet for me. - shoving his finger inside you making you moan embarrassingly. - Your pussy is so needy. - he chuckled - Let me take care of her. He shoved inside you so deeply you felt the pain in your lower stomach. You gasped for air and gripped the edges of the table frantically. - he chuckled all of a sudden. Ah, you finding comfort in it? Let me change that for you. As he grabbed you by the neck, he put you higher so he could grab your wrists and lock them together with his belt. You deserve nothing but comfort.- He spitted in your right ear. Putting pressure on your back now, you laid back again with your arms held together in a fit. He started to fuck you again, not letting you to adjust to his size. Making it even harder for you. He went for a faster pace, making you scream once again. Merde, cherie. Your pussy is so good. Much better than you are to me - You sobbed. I'm-m sorry, I'm sorry. Please. You don't deserve it. He grabbed you harder by your hips, pressing his nails into your skin to make sure to leave marks on you. You are all mine cherie. Do. - thrush - you - thrust - understand - thrust? Qui, qui Monsieour. As you sobbed and moaned out loud at the same time. He chuckled at your messing state. He went with this thumb to your tight hole and shoved it inside - again not giving you time. AHHH Charles ! - *slap*. Shut up you whore. He was attacking both of your holes making you squirm under his touch and seeking your pleasure peak. As you moaned even more and more he went for even a faster pace. You like this cherie? Qui, qui. As you moaned. And since Charles knew your body like the back of his hand, he knew when to stop. NO! - you cried out loud. - P-please, pleas-se…you breathed loudly and deeply, still sobbing since it hasn't left you. He laughed at you cruelly now. He took his other hand and touched your clit so lightly you started moving towards the friction. He slapped your ass, making you a hiss sound. D.o.n.t. move. - you nodded slightly. He continued brushing your clit slightly, teasing you so much you thought your on the verge of breaking out. He got yourself right where he wanted you. You were moving from side to side from the so close orgasm you needed release immediately. You were a writhing mess under him. You are such a whore ma cherie. Please. I'm begging you, You think you deserve it now? Qui. - he laughed at you. No, not yet.
He grabbed you by your hips and tossed you to ground. Making you hit your face since your wrists were still tied together. Sit up. You did, hardly but did. Now listen to me, it will never ever happen again, you understand? You will never talk to me that way ever again. And I will make sure to do whatever it takes to make yourself seen off limits, and if you just cannot listen to me, I make your skin look so miserable that guys will be afraid to even touch you from such sight. Do you understand? Qui. - you meant it as you lowered your eyes. You never wanted to see this Charles again. You wanted the soft one, the loving one. The one you were used to. As he was looking at you, he smiled a little. Last lesson. Open your beautiful mouth. You did as he said. He shoved his big thick cock in your mouth, making you gag around him. So good for me cherie. So good. - your eyes teary once again, breathing harder for him. I bet your pussy likes this. I bet it's a mess beneath you. You moaned loudly at that. Because he was telling the truth.
As he was thrusting his cock in your mouth, the more he groaned out loud, you knew he was getting close. He thrusted in your mouth one last time and put him out. Jerking himself off and squirting on you. As he was panting and finding his steady breath again, you felt his cum dripping down on your skin. If it means to put my cum on you and letting you go like this to public, I will do it. I won't disobey you again, Monsieur. Good. - as he exhaled, he took you by your wrists and let you stand up.
You've learnt your lesson cherie. - he kissed the inside of your wrists, he let the belt loose. Grabbing you under your knees and the backside of your shoulder blades. Taking you to the bedroom. Laying you down on your stomach. Put your hips a little bit higher for me mon amour. - and you did. Loving your old Charles is back again. He sneaked his right hand to your clit, rubbing it softly and his dick once again entered your hot pussy. Making you moan immediately. Be a good girl and come for me. As he was moving in and out of you, rubbing your clit, focusing on your pleasure, you didn't last long. Moaning so hard and calling his name, he groaned to himself and supported you to come for him. He knew your body so well, putting light kisses on your neck since he knew you love it. You had the most intense orgasm so far being with him, moaning and saying his name on repeat. Breathing loudly and coming from your high, he slowly and gently started massaging your back. Making you hum a little at his soft touch. You like this cherie? - you just hummed and smiled to yourself. Good. He continued for a little bit, starting at your back, going down your legs and up once again. And then turned you around, so you were on your back. Facing him. Seeing his beautiful face telling you, he adores completely what he sees beneath him. He used his knee to spread your legs, and you let him. Smiling at him you didn't know. You're so good for me right now ma cherie. - as he shoved himself inside of you. Making you arch your back. Y-yes. He moved slowly and lovingly. Putting his hands over your face, so you were forced to look into his eyes. His eyes were no longer dark, but soft. His green eyes were speaking to you, safety and intimacy. You were lost in his eyes as he were lost in yours. Te amo Charles. J'taime YN. He kissed you on the forehead and went a little faster with his thrusts. I want you to come once again, when I have my tongue down your throat. You started kissing each other, him invading your space inside your mouth. As you started to shiver, he hold your hips steadily and went faster. You were a moaning mess, losing your breath as he was stealing it from you. You came again, seeing stars, feeling his touch and his warm embrace. He groaned loudly to your ear as he came again, right after you…
As you both found your breath again, he looked at you, his eyes lazy. I'm gonna prepare a bath for you. I'd like that - you smiled at him. He kissed you on the cheek, stood up and went to the bathroom. You wanted to go after him but your legs were weak, so you just sat down on the bed again waiting for him. What is wrong mon amour? - he looked concerned. I cannot walk. - looking at him under your lashes. Smiling a little. He took you in his arms and took you to the bathroom. Putting you inside the warm water with bubbles and candles around. I will make dinner meanwhile you rest, it will be ready once you're finished. - he kissed you on the forehead, ready to leave. Charles? Yes? I am so sorry. I will never behave that way again. - you looking down into the water. I know - he rested his hand on your right cheek and kissed you on the forehead again, before disappearing to the kitchen.
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foli-vora · 1 year
Text
gilded lily
pre/during-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader
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a/n: gif by moi. just me over here clowning around and hurting my own feelings lmaoo. we start off soft af, and then it all goes downhill very fast so enjoy the angst-fest! x
word count: 2.6k
warnings: brief mentions of potential pregnancy, graphic violence, blood/gore, violent murder (does it count as murder if they're a zombie? lmao), infected characters, heartbreak, mourning, angst angst angst - don't like, don't read. this does not have a happy ending.
note: this follows the general direction of the outbreak and how it unfolds in the show, it's not identical, but i'll still put a spoiler warning so yeah - consider yourself warned.
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It’s a low buzz, a barely there ringing in your ears, settling in the background and never wavering despite your efforts to clean your ears and pop them. It draws your attention for most of the early morning you spend awake before the others, and it’s not until a body suddenly steps in the way of you staring vacantly at your reflection in the bathroom mirror that you even notice other things are going on.
Your eyes come to focus on Joel who stares at you expectantly, his brows raised at your silence.
“Oh, hi—sorry, what did you say?”
“You’re a bit spacy today… you feelin’ okay?” He mumbles around his toothbrush, his body brushing against yours as he leans back on the sink to face you.
A frown starts to pull at your features.
No, you’re not.
Something is definitely not right with the way you’re feeling, but you’re unable to put a proper label as to what. The flu? Food poisoning? All options that don’t seem to fit your particular… oddness.
“I don’t… I don’t know.”
Your obvious struggle catches Joel’s attention and he’s quick to spit the frothy toothpaste from his mouth, washing it down the sink drain with a quick splash of water before turning his full attention on you.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t—” you pause, staring deep into his dark eyes before letting your frown disappear and forcing a little smile, “—it’s nothing. I’m fine. Really, baby, it’s nothing.”
You aren’t going to do anything that could potentially disturb his birthday—you’d been looking forward to it for weeks. An assortment of wrapped presents hide away in the bottom of the dresser, and you know Sarah’s been buzzing to give him his watch you both had taken to get fixed a week prior.
His mouth opens, no doubt to give you a sharp word about closing him out, but Sarah soon appears in the doorway with a warm good morning and the subject is left at that. You tread after her down the stairs, leaving Joel to scowl lightly at your back as he follows along behind.
Tommy appears just as you’re serving up breakfast, his full plate already waiting in your hand. His grin widens as he gives you a sweet kiss hello on your cheek before snatching the plate with an amused, “Am I that obvious?”
“You don’t want me to answer that,” you reply cheekily, your wide smile faltering when you struggle to open the bottle of pain relief.
“You okay?” He asks around a mouthful of eggs, eyeing the pills you pop into your mouth and swallow down with a mouthful of orange juice.
“Yeah, just not feeling the best today.”
“Are you pregnant?” He asks blankly, picking at the food on his plate as his eyes dart to your stomach.
His question immediately perks Joel’s interest, his hand holding the coffee pot hanging suspended over his mug as he shoots you a look from the corner of his eyes. His thoughts are plain as day—shit… are you?
Sarah perks at the table, the excitement already creeping into her features and you’re quick to cut in before she could get too ahead of herself.
“No,” you chuckle, poking Tommy’s side, “but thank you for the early morning freak out.”
Joel makes a little noise of thought, his rasp coming from around the mug he presses to his lips, “Would it be so bad if you were?”
“I don’t know,” you murmur softly, unable to keep a smile tugging at your cheeks, “would it?”
He shrugs, the barely there trace of a smirk playing along his lips as he nurses his coffee, “I wouldn’t have a problem with it.”
Tommy pipes up with a comment, his voice thick and far away, morphing in your ears until a shrill sound fills your mind, piercing your senses.
That goddamn ringing.
A wince pinches your features and you rub at your temples, willing the ache slowly building there to dissipate. A numb tingle grows over your fingertips, merely intensifying when you rub them together to will some feeling back into the pads.
“Honey?”
Snapping out of a sudden trance like state, you blink wildly as your eyes refocus on Joel and how he’s suddenly in front of you.
Heavy frown deepening, his hands come to cup your cheeks, tilting your head up and side to side. He studies your eyes, noting the strangely vacant look swirling in them and how you seem to struggle finding words.
Sarah shares his concern, stepping up next to him and curling a warm hand around yours.
“Dad, maybe you should take her to the hospital—”
“Yeah… yeah, I think I will. Baby, could you go get her jacket—”
“Don’t be silly,” you breathe, shaking your head and fighting the fog creeping along the corners of your mind. “I’m not sitting in the ER on your birthday, and besides you guys have a lot of work to do today. It’s probably a migraine, or something—I’ll just sleep it off.”
Tommy doesn’t seem all that convinced, his frown mirroring his brothers as he looks at you from over Joel’s shoulder.
“Are you sure? Coz you don’t look too good—work can always wait.”
“I’ll be fine,” you grin, delivering a firm smack to Joel’s ass, “you’re gonna be late—off you go, birthday boy. The sooner you go, the sooner you can come back and get your birthday presents.”
Joel’s jaw tightens, “You call me if anything changes, y’hear?”
Nothing changes, but nothing gets better.
You call into work after dropping Sarah off at school, explaining your sudden illness and confusion quickly forming when they say you’re not the first—a few of your co-workers had called in also. Something’s going around, they say.
There are reports everywhere.
The day passes quickly with you sleeping on the couch, hoping that whatever is plaguing you will pass by the time Joel gets home from his double. You wake to find Sarah hovering over you with a glass of water and a smile that barely hides her worry.
“How are you feeling?” She asks quietly, helping you sit up and tucking herself into the couch next to you.
“Better,” you lie, the smile on your lips forced.
If she doesn’t believe you, she doesn’t make it known. 
You spend the evening cuddled with her on the couch, barely focusing on the shows that come and go. Time blurs together, the hours melding and dragging.
Somewhere inside of you, you feel something’s wrong. Badly wrong. Something’s not right. You start to twitch, random muscles in your body jumping at the most random of times.
At one point, Sarah pulls away from where she cuddles into your side, her obvious worry deepening with your increasingly erratic movements.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I just—I must’ve trapped a nerve, or something,” you murmur through numb lips, watching the way your fingers and hand twitch almost as if through a skewed, blurry lens before giving the limb a little shake and smiling. “I’m fine.”
You’re not fine. You can feel it everywhere. Something’s happening. Where the fuck is Joel?
Everything is fucked.
People are being attacked everywhere, people are dying everywhere. Just getting slaughtered, right in the middle of the fucking street.
It’s mayhem.
It’s terrifying and he doesn’t have a chance to truly process the emotion. It makes no sense, no damn sense, but he doesn’t bother to stop and think about it. He can’t. He needs to move, you all need to move and get the fuck out of town.
Joel bursts through the front door, echoes of jets and explosions and sirens sounding in the distance behind him, his face set in rigid determination. He should never have worked so fucking late. 
“Girls, come on—” he roars, hoping the boom of his voice startles you both from sleep, “—in the truck, now!”
Sarah’s asleep and sprawled over the couch when he passes by the lounge, and he immediately goes for her, curling his fingers tightly around her shoulder and giving her a firm shake.  
“Baby? Baby, wake up—” 
Sarah blinks languidly, her face pinched and disorientated, but the sleep hanging in her eyes evaporates when a sudden explosion rattles the house. Her hands fly to clutch his arms, eyes now wide and filled with terror, darting to the window.
“What’s going on?!”
“Come on, we gotta go, baby, get up.”
She follows immediately, her hand not leaving his as he drags her outside. Tommy stands guard by the running truck, desperately trying to pull his lips into some sort of encouraging smile, but it comes across more as a grimace.
“What’s happening?” Sarah asks again, pausing when a familiar sound catches her attention. “Mercy? Mercy, here boy!”
Joel’s jaw tenses, his hands becoming increasingly more urgent as they shove her towards the vehicle, ignoring the frightened dog that bounds over to answer her familiar call.
“Sarah, get in the fuckin’ truck—”
“What about Mercy? We can’t just leave him outside, and what about—”
Tommy holds a calming hand out, his grip tightening on his rifle, “Joel’ll get her, and I’ll take him back, just get in—”
“You keep her in the truck!” Joel yells at his brother, turning away from them and running back towards the house, slamming his way through the front door, roaring your name again and again. He takes the stairs two at a time, marching straight for the bedroom only to discover you aren’t there.
Where the hell are you?
“Come on, honey, we gotta move—!”
A thud.
He spins for the bathroom, noticing the slither of light from under the door and immediately advancing towards it, hand reaching for the handle.
Locked.
He rattles it, hoping the weak thing would cave like it’s done so many times before. He knocks harshly when it holds firm, calling out your name, but a weight hitting the door sends panic through his system.
A weakened groan sounds through the timber and he shakes the handle again, his face creasing with worry. He doesn’t have a lot of time, none of you have a lot of time. He forces his shoulder up against the door and it soon gives way, shoving something heavy out of the way and slamming against the tiles.
“Honey, come—”
He stops, eyes finally taking in the form in front of him.
It’s you, but it’s not.
Ice creeps along his shoulders, hardening around his heart and sinking to the pit of his stomach. There’s something wild about your expression, an almost animalistic curl to your features. Your eyes have lost their usual warmth, their sparkle, now they’re feral, and locked right onto him. 
God no, not you.
“Honey, baby,” he utters, stepping back and desperately willing, praying, for the unfolding situation to change in front of his eyes, “it’s me—I can’t… god, don’t make me do this. Please wake up. Show me you’re there, do somethin’—“
A guttural cry that barely sounds human tears its way out of your mouth and you lunge for him, hands poised ready to grab onto him. He evades your attack and dives into Sarah’s room, swiping one of her participation trophies from her drawers and barely able to turn before a weight hits his side and takes him down to the floor.
He curls a hand tightly around your throat, keeping your rabid, snarling face away from his and strikes. The marble base of the award meets your skull with a sickening crunch, but he doesn’t stop, his arm soon aching from the brutal force he puts behind each hit and causing blood to rain down over his face. He doesn’t stop until he feels the strength behind your hands vanish. 
The sticky red substance coats the trophy and he lets out a sob as your body falls to the floor in an unmoving heap beside him. He throws the makeshift weapon away from him as his chest heaves, the heavy thud of it hitting the floor suddenly so loud in the now still house, and rolls onto his side, taking in your still form before carefully crawling closer.
He reaches out, placing a trembling hand against the part of your bloodied face he could see through the destruction, sick at how cold you feel and the way your thick blood coats his skin. His thumb brushes over your cheek, tracing the swollen veins lying beneath and he chokes on a cry.
“I’m so—fuck, honey, I-I’m so sorry—”
Remorse rolls through him in waves until it fills every vein, runs along every nerve. He should’ve been here. He should’ve done something. Was there even anything he could have done? Could he have saved you from any pain? Were you alone and scared? What were your last thoughts? Did you know what was happening? Is that why you were locked away?
“Joel?!” Tommy shouts from somewhere in the house, and it’s enough to tear him away from your body and the grief overwhelming him.
“Don’t let her up here!” He yells back, listening to Tommy quickly stop Sarah from climbing the stairs.
She couldn’t see this. She couldn’t remember you like this, mangled and bleeding out on her bedroom floor where you both had spent so much time reading over magazines, painting each other's nails and giggling over shitty TV shows. He wouldn’t let those memories be stained with the blood of the mother she had found so much comfort in, tainted by the monster that had become of her.
He takes one final look at you, smoothing a hand along your hairline and avoiding the caved in shattered bone only a few centimetres from his touch. Nausea rolls through him, hot acid bile rising in the back of his throat as he backs away from your body and stands on unsteady legs.
His hand flies out to rest against the wall as he stumbles back, eyes not leaving your twisted features and broken body. Eventually you fade from view once he rounds the corner and he turns for the stairs, his heart thundering in his chest.
Sarah sees him first, Tommy busy eyeing the windows and keeping his weapon at the ready.
“Is she sick?” She asks, noticing the obvious emptiness behind him.
Joel feels his shoulders deflate, stepping down the final steps and giving a solemn nod, “Yeah. Yeah, she was.”
The use of past tense brings a thick wave of emotion over his daughter's face, and his broken heart shatters even more. He tries to wipe the blood, your blood, from his hands, dragging them down the legs of his jeans and it catches her attention, her face creasing with anguish.
“You killed her,” she mumbles, tears filling her lash line as her eyes dart across his face.
He swallows the thick pressure in his throat, ignoring the look of sympathy his brother gives him and steps up to his daughter, holding back his own tears as hers spill over her cheeks.
“I did,” he returns quietly, “I did. I’m so sorry, baby—”
She softens when he reaches for her, his arms tightening around her and squeezing. Her lower lips wobbles with the effort of keeping her emotions at bay, her fingers tightening around his shirt as he curls around her. She shakes in his hold.
“The Adler’s were sick, too,” she whimpers into his shoulder, “are we sick?”
“No baby. No, we’re not sick,” Joel pulls away, cupping her cheek with a sticky hand and keeping his gaze steady with hers, “but we’ve gotta be brave, okay? We’re gonna be fine, but we’ve got to go.”
“We shouldn’t leave her behind—” she whimpers quietly, another stream of tears falling down her cheeks.
“We have to, baby girl. We have to, I... I’m not gonna lose you, too.”
-
everything pp: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80​, @danidrabbles, @sergeantbannerbarnes, @amneris21​, @eri16​, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes​, @ezrasbirdie​, @mstgsmy​, @lovesbiggerthanpride​, @coaaster​, @sherala007​, @kelseyxyeslek, @greeneyedblondie44​, @wyn-n-tonic​, @you-got-me-starry-eyed​, @shirks-all-responsibilities​, @withasideofmeg​, @harriedandharassed​, @andruxx​, @buckybarneshairpullingkink​, @spideysimpossiblegirl​, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future​, @tanzthompson​, @mad-girl-without-a-box​, @hope-for-the-best-98​, @fangirl-316​, @christina-loves​, @jediknight122​, @hallway5​, @xoxabs88xox​, @nicolethered​, @churchill356​, @massivecolorspygiant​, @just-here-for-the-moment​, @gracie7209​, @pinkie289​, @lavenderluna10​, @goodgriefitsawildworld​, @juletheghoul​, @punkerthanpascal​, @itswanktime​, @karolydulin​, @pedrostories​, @fabilei, @ghostwiththemostbitch, @omlwhatamidoinghere​, @cannedsoupsucks​, @chaoticemz, @hows-my-hair​, @alexxavicry​, @cran-berry-vodka, @deadhumourist​, @outercrasis​, @thisshipwillsail316​, @toxicfrankenstein​, @hotchlover​, @ew-erin​, @mishasminion360​, @jitterbugs927​, @penelopeimp​, @woodland-mist​, @pedro-pastel​, @spaceserialkiller, @adriiibell​, @1andthesame​, @elegantduckturtle​, @captain-jebi​, @magpie-to-the-morning​, @sharkbait77​, @sleep-tight1​, @musings-of-a-rose​, @Karlawithacapitalk, @woomen23​, @frasmotic​, @songsformonkeys​, @loonymagizoologist​, @aynsleywalker​, @ruhro7​, @bluestuesday​, @what-iwish-you-knew​, @princess-djarinn​, @totallynotastanacc​, @girlofchaos​, @pjkimrn​, @bangaveragewhitewine​, @trickstersp8​, @rominaszh, @gooddaykate​, @ms-loverman-066​, @bunniwarrior, @detectivecarisi-1​, @tintinn16​, @iceclaw101​, @bport76​, @thatpinkshirt​, @tusk89​, @withakindheartx​, @curiouskeyboard​, @pedropascalsx​, @sirpascal, @racetrackheart, @patisseriel, @timpletance​, @titabel, @xdaddysprincessxx​, @dnxgma​, @astronomeoww​, @dindjarinswhore, @alwaysdjarin​, @mando-amando​, @mx-ferelden​, @trinkets01​, @jxvipike​, @thesmutslut​, @thereisaplaceintheheart​, @scentedthingtidalwave​, @mwltwo​, @loveslide​, @artsymaddie​, @untitledarea​, @sukunababe​, @emiemiemiii​, @your-slutty-gf​, @wisecolornight​, @emilianamason​
joel miller: @jujuliaispunk
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acrossthewavesoftime · 3 months
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Tumblr Dashboard Simulator: 1670s/1680s English Court
🐶 merry-monarch
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#monday motivation #motivational quote #there are indeed good thyngs and bad in this countrie #the good: women #the bad: PARLEMENT
5,112 notes
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💖 mary-clorine
I have two husbands, and that causes me much trouble and torment of the soul, for I may be with childe by one, and have thus given horns to th'other, who is also a lady, and we have been married first. Now she won't writ to me as we did as girles, and my lawfull husband, I have not yett told, for my condition is not certain yet. I cannot talk in honesty whith one, and with the other husband, neither.
'Tis awkward to speak of this, but if not to your friends online, to whom can one talk of such troubles?
#personal #might remove later #aurelia I miss you
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🤴dukeofm
There are thyngs the governement, the Kinge in particular, do not wish you to know about: the Royall Successioun is all made false, for instead of the D. of Yorke, the True Heir to H. M. the Kinge shoud be the Duke of Monmouth, for he was lawfully begot by the Kinge, then married in secret to the late Lucy Walter, and must therefore be accepted as Prince before his uncle the D. of Yorke, who is a Catholick.
All ye good people should speak up against this injustice! If you cannot pledge your life (if there be a fight), or some shillings to the cause, you may help it greatly alreadie by re-bloggying, and bringing this mater to greater awareness!
#sociall justice #awareness #politick
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🎀 prettywittynell
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@merry-monarch had me painted! For more content like this, and to vote which painter shoud doe me (haha!) next, please visit my OnlieFriendes account!!!
#lely #girlboss #hotter than madam carwell!! ;)))
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🍊 je-maintiendrai
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Hans Willem et moy!
Vouz pouves nous voir en visitant Stichting Kasteel Amerongen, ou icy, en-ligne (un grand mercy au Nederlands Instituut voor Kunstgeschiedenis): https://rkd.nl/images/126807
#meilleur amy #boy best friends #louis n'a pas d'amy si proche que j'ay
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👑 catholic-guilty666
Why cannot a man haue normall nepheues. One, @je-maintiendrai, is nigh a Puritan in his Protestant fervour, and th'other dispreads falsehoods about the monarcky (and the Roman Church).
I reported the other one, @dukeofm for his libel, in hopes he shall be deactivated, alas th'other I can but block, and not banished from this place. I also hope my daughter the Princess shall divorce him speedilye.
Tonight, I hope to forgett all about this vexing bussinesse by thinking on going a-stag hunting tomorrow with H. M. my brothere, the King.
#vent #vent post #callout post
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🇮🇹modenamarie
#poll #nicknames #mary
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💃 annieannieannie
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3. The feeling One experiences when One findes out, that one's weird uncle hath a Tumblr-accountt, too 💀💀💀
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do not follow him
#i thought 'twas my bad eyes but what i was seeing was real #the family #non followeres do not interact
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leclerc-hs · 5 months
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piano lessons - cl16
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Pairing: charles leclerc x femstudent!reader Summary: in which the tension between you and your music teacher finally breaks Warnings: smut, oral (f-receiving), 18+, not proofread, bad French! Word Count: 1474 Author's Note: idk I really just felt the need to write this. please correct my french if you can
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
EVER SINCE YOU were a little girl and your parents placed you into piano lessons, you knew you were destined to play and write music. It became your sanctuary, a place to escape from the demands of reality and a medium through which you could mold reality into art. Now, it propels you into a university music course, where your path intertwines with that of one of the most attractive professors you’ve ever encountered. Scratch that, one of the most attractive men you’ve ever encountered.
You weren’t oblivious to his stares. The way his green eyes sometimes lingered on you much too long as he spoke in front of the class. Today, for instance, his gaze seemed fixated on the end of your short skirt, where your fingers fumbled with the fabric. He tended to single you out frequently, using you as a shining example to illustrate correct procedures for everyone. His praise for your efforts seemed never-ending. It would send you leaving the class all blushed and flustered constantly.
You weren’t completely innocent either though, and it didn’t help that he was so fucking hot. His hair perpetually tousled from running his hands through it, and the veins in his fingers pronounced whenever he played the piano. You found yourself often fixating on his hands, imagining what they might feel like on your body. It was a tantalizing thought, wondering if he could play you as skillfully as he played the piano.
His hands were artwork in themselves.
At times, you sensed the mutual attraction, a subtle dance of connection that left you questioning whether it was real or a product of your imagination. Doubts lingered until today, when Adam, the person seated beside you, relentlessly pressed to take you out. His persistent advances bothering not just you, but apparently your professor as well.
“Adam, Je te suggère de te concentrer sur ton devoir.” I suggest you focus on your assignment. Towards the end of class, it appeared that your teacher had reached a point of exasperation. “Elle ne te veur pas.” She doesn’t want you. “Arrête de perturber tout le monde.” Stop disrupting everyone. You could sense the annoyance in his tone and the way his body tensed when Adam first asked you out.
What he really meant was:
You don’t deserve her
You couldn’t give her an ounce of what she really needs
Stop pissing me off
The class responded with snickers, accompanied by a round of “Oooo burn” echoing throughout the room. You felt your cheeks turn red of embarrassment for yourself but more so for Adam.
“C’est assez aujourd’hui!” That’s enough for today! He dismissed the class. “Profitez bien du week-end!” Enjoy the weekend!
While the other students hurriedly exited the classroom, you hesitated, lingering behind. Restlessly tapping your foot, you watched as your music teacher casually leaned against the desk. His arms, robust and defined, stretched the seams of his t-shirt sleeves as he folded them across his chest, fixing you with a curious gaze.
“Est-ce que je peux vous aider?” Can I help you? His lips tugged up into a sheepish smile. 
You felt yourself fidget with the bottom of your skirt as your eyes met with his. “Oui, besoin d’aide avec ma chanson Mr. Leclerc,” Yes, I need help with my song. “Je n’arrive pas à trouver la fin correcte.” I can’t get the ending right.
It wasn’t a complete lie. You genuinely needed help with your ongoing composition. Each conclusion you attempted just didn’t carry the sense of completeness you were aiming for. But you also just wanted to be around him more. 
“Joue pour moi.” Play for me. As he extended his arm, gesturing towards the piano, you couldn’t resist the pull, finding yourself moving towards the piano and taking a seat. His attentive eyes tracking your every movement stirred a nervous excitement within you, simultaneously igniting a passionate fire. The shared moment at the piano became more than help; it became a dance of anticipation and unspoken connection.
He found himself utterly captivated by you – the way your bottom lip caught between your teeth in intense focus, the moments when you lost yourself to the music. The cascade of your hair falling behind you revealed the delicate curve of your neck. He wanted to ravish you. 
As you were engrossed in playing your song, you felt him slowly edging closer until he was standing directly behind you. The sensation of his front against your back sent goosebumps racing across your exposed skin. The contact led to one of your fingers slipping, hitting an incorrect key.
You couldn’t see, but a smirk played on his lips as he noticed the small mistake. It was subtle and almost imperceptible. Yet, the knowledge that he, someone aware of your exceptional talent on the piano, induced even a minor slip, fueled his ego. 
You were aware he had heard the mistake, but he didn’t interrupt you. Consequently, you carried on playing, immersed in the fragrance of his cologne, losing yourself in the music until you struck the very last note. The moment your fingers left the keys, you slid off the piano bench and directed your gaze towards him. You leaned against the side of the piano, your elbow propped up on it. 
“Tu es magnifique,” You’re magnificent. The words alone caused a visceral reaction in your stomach, a tightening with need. You couldn’t pinpoint when or how he had gotten so close to you again, but in that moment, you didn’t care. 
In that moment, you forgot that you even needed help with the song. All you could do is stare at his eyes, noticing how they would occasionally drop to glance at your lips.
“Oh merde, embrasse-moi, s’il te plait,” Oh shit, please kiss me. You whispered it so softly, it was barely audible. You didn’t care if you put yourself out on a limb. The constant back and forth had worn you out; it felt like an endless game of cat and mouse.
You could barely finish your sentence as his lips crashed down on yours and his tongue slipped inside of your mouth. He was gentle, but also demanding with it. Your fingers graze his hair, something you have always wanted to do, pulling him closer as his hands find a place on your hips, lifting you onto the piano.
The fingers of his right-hand sneak under the hem of your skirt, his fingers fumbling with the same spot of the skirt yours did moments ago. 
“Puis-je?” Can I? You eagerly nodded, allowing him to push your skirt up and pull your underwear to the side. He paused for a moment, just staring at your heated center. His eyes darkening in hunger at the sight of you. 
“Merde,” Shit.  He groaned. Literally groaned at the sight of your bare pussy on display for him. You were already wet before he placed the pad of his thumb directly onto your clit, rubbing tiny circles before he brought his lips to you.
“Je rêve de ça constamment,” I dream about this constantly. He moaned into your pussy, the vibration and confession pushing a needy cry from your mouth.
He wrapped his lips around your clit, immediately moaning at the taste of you. You let out a sharp cry as your back arched in response to the suction on your clit. One hand held your body up-right while the other fisted his hair in a tight grip. 
He lifted his head for a mere second just to look at you, locking his eyes with you as he pushed two fingers into your heated center. His eyes were dark, and his lips were so glossy, coated with you. You almost came at the sight of him right there.
You were moaning so loud as he curled his fingers, rubbing the spot you ached the most just right. “Tu es tellement putain de belle,” You’re so fucking pretty. He moaned before bringing his lips down you your center and pressing kitten licks to your clit. His fingers still pumping in and out of you rapidly.
It was too much. His fingers, the kitten licks, and the pressure of his nose on you was becoming overwhelming.
“Please don’t stop sir,” you moaned repeatedly. Your legs wrapped tightly over his shoulder, suffocating him into your pussy.  “Ça fait tellement du bien.” Feels so good.
You came unexpectedly with a loud cry, your thighs squeezed tightly against his head as he didn’t let up on the assault of your pussy. He took every drop of your orgasm like it was his source of oxygen. 
Your body fell limp on top of the piano as Charles placed gentle kisses to the inside of your thighs. 
“Puis-je le refaire?” Can I do it again? “Tu as un gout délicieux.” You taste so good.
Yes. Yes you can do it again.
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shdo-xplosion · 1 year
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spaghetti straps - r. shidou ࿐
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warnings: 2.4k; fem-bodied reader, coercion, reader wants to fuck more than she’d like to admit, shidou is a little annoying, shidou can lift and hold you (he stronk athlete), dirty talk, semi-public sex, a little plot, p in v, creampie
note: hi! (✿◠‿◠) my first shidou fic (finally) and my contribution to @saintshiba’s sundress szn collab! truly hope everybody enjoys my take on him cause i am so obsessed with him. banner manga cap colored by moi! plspls let me know what you think of my writing! feedback means a lot (≧◡≦)
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You aren’t used to wearing things other than your typical track shorts and t-shirts, never one for fashion or dressing up, though you admire anyone who enjoys that kind of stuff.
But it’s summer, and it’s hot, and you’re at a beach house with some friends. Pulling a cotton shirt and shorts on and off over a wet bathing suit is simply not it, so for this weekend you’ve decided to pack sundresses instead of your usual attire.
It’s been 2 days and all the stares you’ve been getting from the guys are still weird, most of confusion and/or surprise, but there are a couple friends, specifically one infuriating, blond-haired insect of a man, who is very obvious in the way he looks at you, magenta eyes half-lidded, salacious smirk stretching across his lips. It’s maddening, made even worse by the fact that he already knows what you’re hiding under your little sundress.
“The yellow suits you,” Shidou purrs in your ear in the kitchen, and you feel one of his fingers wiggle underneath the thin shoulder strap of your bikini top. “Goes nice with the purple suit.”
“Too bad none of it’s for you,” you grumble, trying not to pay him much attention.
He isn’t so much your ex-boyfriend as much as your ex-mistake, a fuck buddy you had the misfortune of catching feelings for only for him to let you down gently. Or, as gently as someone like Shidou could manage.
I still wanna fuck you, though, he had told you thoughtlessly. It’s better than nothing for you, right?
You had immediately cut things off, both hurt and offended that he just assumed his dick would be enough to keep you around. That you were so desperate for him that you would just take what you could get.
No, you hadn’t quite reached that level of infatuation.
You’re still a little bitter about it, a little embarrassed, but you’re also irritated, especially since he insists on coming onto you even now.
“Who’s it for then, hm?” he asks, bending down enough for his breath to hit your neck. It gives you goosebumps. It also makes you squirm away from him.
“For me. ‘Cause it’s easy and breezy.”
“And beautiful… cover girl,” he quotes. You fight not to laugh. “But really, the dresses look good on you. You should let me take some pictures…” he wiggles his eyebrows. “More for my private collection.”
You make a face of disgust. “Ugh, you haven’t deleted those yet?” The thought of him having all kinds of lewd photos of you both disturbs and excites you. Does that mean he still uses them?
“Why would I delete such quality content?”
Narrowing your eyes at him, you threaten, “if you post those anywhere, I’ll kill you.”
Shidou grins crookedly. “Kinky.”
With an exasperated huff, you walk away.
~*~
Even with crazy, windblown hair and covered in sweat, you can still sense Shidou watching you. It makes your already heated skin burn even hotter.
Currently you’re situated under an umbrella, just scrolling on your phone while all the guys play a game of beach volleyball. If it can even be called that. They should definitely stick to soccer.
You aren’t surprised when Shidou plops down next to you, dusting up some sand so that it powders your bare thighs.
“White today,” he comments, picking at the hem of your short dress.
All you offer is a noncommittal, “mm,” gritting your teeth at the feeling of his fingertips grazing your skin.
“Makes you look innocent,” he continues. “Which we both know is a lie.”
“Shidou, please drop it. Admire from afar if you have to, but—”
“Miss when you used to call me Ryu.” He nuzzles into your shoulder, inhaling deeply, and when you try to shrug him off, you feel his teeth against your skin. He doesn’t bite hard, but it’s enough to anchor him to you.
“Ryu!” you squeal, shoving his face away.
“Just like that,” he grins before mimicking you ‘Ryu’. “Used to scream my name like that when I’d fuck you real good.”
“God, you are insufferable!”
He’s also turning you on, much to your disappointment. Hand slowly slipping under your dress, a small nibble to your earlobe.
“I know all your spots, baby. Just give in. You know you want to.” He’s using that seductive voice that always makes your breath quicken and your eyes dilate. Everything is brighter even with your sunglasses.
“See, you’re already spreading your legs for me.”
He’s right. Your knees aren’t pressed together anymore, leaving a gap between your thighs.
“There are people around, Ryuusei,” you tell him sternly, a last ditch effort to spur his advances.
You aren’t the least bit surprised when his only counter is a petulant, “so?”
His hand slides up further until his fingers brush against your covered pussy, and you bite your lip, ashamed that you’ve let him get to you like this.
“Sand,” you whine. “Don’t want…”
He hums in consideration then turns onto his back, rolling and propelling himself straight to his feet in one fluid motion. Annoying.
“To the showers, then,” he says, pulling you up.
He ignores your mumbling as he leads you to the little shower, on the beach for the purpose of rinsing sand off of sticky bodies. A little blue curtain is all that will block you from view. You’re supposed to keep your bathing suits on after all.
The water pressure isn’t strong, but it is enough to get the sand off both of you. You swear out loud as you pull your bottoms off. The dress is staying on; there’s no way you’re getting entirely naked. Shidou, on the other hand, shamelessly pushes his trunks all the way off, letting them pool on the wooden plans right next to yours.
You gasp when he suddenly spins you around, finding the strings of your top and tugging them loose.
“Get this shit off.”
He yanks the material over your head, turning you to face him again, and groans when he looks down at your chest. With your white dress entirely soaked, your hard nipples show through the sheerness. Shidou immediately starts groping you, his head falling back like he’s already on the verge of cumming just from playing with your tits.
It feels good, his palms rubbing over your sensitive buds before he pinches each one. You’d rather skip the foreplay, though, eager to have something inside you while also nervous about being caught.
To move things along you reach between your legs, running your middle finger between your folds and hating yourself for how wet you are. Like you’d said the other day, water makes a terrible lube, but if you’re already ridiculously slick, it doesn’t really matter.
You slip two fingers into your hole and scissor them apart, well aware that it’d be unwise to take Shidou without any prep. His cock is too pretty, something to be proud of, and he is. It’s thick and long, fat mushroom shaped head perfect for dragging against your walls.
“Yeah, you want it now, don’t ya?” he teases.
“Don’t push your luck.” It’s meant to be a warning, but you’re too breathless for it to have any weight.
Shidou abandons your chest in order to guide your hand away from yourself, replacing it with his own and fucking you with his longer fingers. He hikes one of your legs up, holding it to his hip, and as he stretches you out, he ruts his pelvis forward.
“Okay, I’m good,” you tell him. “I’m good, I’m ready.”
“Oh? Baby girl all cock hungry now?”
“Ryuuu,” you whine, grinding down on his hand.
“Only ‘cause you’re making such pretty sounds for me.”
He grabs your other leg, hoisting you up with the strength gained from years of dedicated workouts. You shift in his grasp until you feel the tip of his cock rub against your cunt. The amount of times the two of you have fucked, you know each others bodies well, and it’s almost second nature for you to guide him into your hole without the use of your hands.
Your mouth hangs open as he slides inside, the muscles in Shidou’s arms straining as he lowers you on his cock. You’re relying on him entirely. He’ll be in control as he supports you, and you’ll be completely helpless.
He doesn’t ask if you’re ready, if you’ve braced yourself, just starts bouncing you up and down. His fingers dig into the fat of your thighs, definitely creating bruises, and you steady yourself by tangling fingers in his hair. He’s so fucking hot like this, water running down his toned frame, blonde strands plastered to his face.
The way that you’re gripping his hair pushes his face into your tits, and Shidou groans like a porn star, lapping up the droplets that cover your chest.
Short moans are forced out if you with every bounce. Hn, hn, hn until Shidou starts moving you more aggressively and your jaw drops. Ah, ah, ah.
“Missed this sweet pussy,” Shidou pants. “Take my dick so good. Think she missed me too.”
You’re not a huge fan of him personifying your literal vagina, but you’re too far gone to chastise him for it. In fact, you agree, nodding and huffing, “I do, I do…”
His thrusts are shallow because of the position, but he still feels so good as he bullies your soft, gummy walls. The way you’re wrapped around him has your hard clit rubbing against his pelvis, the coarse hairs at the base of his cock beginning to rub you raw in a delicious way. You always did like a little pain with your pleasure, and Shidou is amazing at delivering just that.
“Really should open this curtain. Let everyone see how gorgeous you look getting fucked like this.”
“Don’t you dare,” you gasp.
“You sure? You don’t wanna put on a show for the guys? I bet they’d all get jealous.”
“Ryu, please!”
He bites the top of one of your tits then relents, rolling his striking eyes. “Fine.” His thick eyelashes are dripping with water, so pretty. “But only if you cum for me.”
You wouldn’t be able to if he hadn’t been fucking you so perfectly, cockhead massaging your g-spot, clit now overstimulated.
“Think you can do that for me, sweetness?”
You nod. “Are… are you close too?”
“‘’m always close when I’m fucking you,” he tells you. “Just looking at you gets me hard.”
Vulgar but flattering.
“You want me inside? Stuff this pussy full of cum?”
“Nnng, pleeease.”
You shouldn’t let him, shouldn’t reward him after how much he’s annoyed you on this vacation. But you love the feeling of him dripping out of you, thick and warm, enough to spill down your thighs. If you weren’t on birth control, you would never. As it is…
“Alright, cum for me then,” he commands. “Wanna feel your cunt milk me.”
Heat spreads from your pussy to the place between your hips, pooling into your tummy and traveling to your toes.
“Oh god, Ryu,” you sob, “I’m… don’t stop…”
He spreads his legs, squatting slightly so that his thighs can support some of your weight as he quickly rocks back and forth, his fat cock pistoning in and out of your spasming hole.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“m’gonna blow,” Shidou huffs. “Gonna fill you up… take my cum, baby, take all of it.”
It’s a subtle sensation, him spilling inside of you. You can’t feel every individual rope of cum, but you can feel your pussy getting fuller and fuller, stretching you even further. And then, you can feel it begin to leak out of you, coating Shidou’s cock as he pulls out until only his tip remains inside of you.
“Still as good as I remember,” he remarks, lifting you until he slips out of you before setting you back on wobbly legs.
He’s right, unfortunately. The best lay you’ve ever had.
“It was… nice,” you mumble regretfully. “Glad we’re already in a shower.”
“Convenient. Since you always get so messy,” he smirks.
“Because you make me messy.”
“I take that as a compliment.”
You rinse off the slimy fluid dripping down the insides of your legs, retrieve your bathing suit from the ground. The bottoms are easy enough to wiggle back into, but you have to ask Shidou for help with your top.
“You look so good without it, though, he says, but when you cast him a glare, he concedes. “Fine.”
As he ties it back around you, you can’t help but ask, “is it just the sundresses that did it for you? You like them that much?”
“I mean, I do like little dresses like this,” he confirms, trailing his hands down your ribs and pulling you back into him. “But anything you wear gets my dick hard. My jerseys, pajamas, your boring t-shirts n’ shit.”
“Boring but comfy.”
“And still sexy cause you’re the one wearing ‘em.”
Your stomach flutters in a familiar way, butterflies accompanied by dread. “Careful. You’re starting to sound awfully sweet, Ryu.”
You feel him shrug, his arms locked around you and his lips pressed to the skin behind your ear.
“What can I say? I missed you.”
You can’t even formulate a response to that, refusing to get your hopes up. The vacation will be over soon, and Shidou will go back to being a fuckboy. You’re not about to let him hurt you again.
So you shake your head and step out of his arms then bend down to grab his swim trunks off the ground.
“Put your pants back on,” you sigh, and, taking a page out of his book, you leave him with a casualness that you hope will mess with his head in the coming days. Just like this whole encounter is sure to mess with yours.
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