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did-system-did · 3 months

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they should make a version of me that works

#irritated xoxo #i get so paralyzed bro i just wanna do chores #and be productive #but i end up paralyzed #awesome #blurry #dillion

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cursedmartyr · 4 months

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so i might have accidentally hacked into the archived version of this blog instead of the reboot but the important thing is, i got my url back 🥲

#stay mad xoxo #no but fr i was so excited for a sec #and then i got irritated #and then i realized i barely posted on the reboot #and this is where most of my content actually is #AND I GOT MY URL BACK. so hi it's been 87 yrs

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yeonban · 6 months

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tloz: tears of the kingdom starters.

@skilledsenses asked: ❝ you were involved, weren’t you? ❞ ( ranpo for nikolai- )

Readily on cue - almost as if expecting the detective to make his grand appearance here and now -, the clown gasps with the same intensity as one who would forsake his lungs to blow air into a balloon and make a weeping child's day brighter, except Nikolai's gasp comes alongside a dismayed expression, his mouth gaping wide open / eyes deep in disbelief, and he raises a shaky hand to theatrically cover his mouth and drive his point (whatever that might be) across. ❛ Wha- what a rude thing to do, Ranpo-kun!! Accusing one of your friends of something so... so depraved! That's a big no-no, you know! ❜ Whether he counts as a friend or not doesn't even matter - not when the genius isn't going to get any moment of respite to interject to begin with!

Exceedingly fast does Nikolai's hand switch from trembling to preposterously wagging his index finger to the left and to the right in front of his newest companion as he once again derails from the falsified movements and abruptly places his finger on his own chin, charmingly blinking at Ranpo as he does so (or merely closing his eye - who's to tell with the mask covering half of his face!) ❛ I'll let it pass since it's you, though. ♡ But take care not to try something like that with any of your other friends, or who knows how they'll react! They'll be heartbroken at the injustice for sure, I'll bet! ❜

He suddenly freezes then, out of nowhere and apparently for no reason, expression shattering for a fleeting moment (as the truth, or as another lie?) and the jester opens his mouth ever so slightly, eye staring at the other's face in brief contemplation before Nikolai chooses to inch closer, curiosity seemingly taking him over as he leans down into Ranpo's personal space and hums lowly, gaze never once departing from the detective's face. ❛ Ah--- or could it be... that this is your way of saying you've missed me...? You couldn't find a better reason to approach me, so you've decided to grab my attention in this way instead...? What an unexpected twist! How touching!! My heart feels like it's about to burst!!! ❜

His visible eye nearly sparkles now and an obnoxious smile overpowers every other detail on his face while Nikolai reaches his gloved hands forward to tightly grasp Ranpo's into his... and entirely, completely professionally, avoids answering the posed question. ❛ Why, how I've missed you too, my солнышко~~~! ❜

#muse: nikolai gogol.#skilledsenses #* nikolai gogol. / ic.#солнышко = little sun in RU! Good luck to Ranpo if he doesn't know a iota of Russian or Ukrainian LMAO #I burst out laughing like 3 different times while writing this I HATE HIM SO BADSBFDUHSBFDSFDSFDFSSJD #I'm sat here trying to figure out WHAT the hell he's even talking about. Kolya took the topic and swung it around til it got a migraine #Ranpo: You were involved weren't you.#Nikolai; definitely involved: Nevermind thaaat <3 (starts talking about the world's most delusional way of viewing this situation)#It's honestly up to you if he did like. a crime of some sort or just did smth to interfere w Ranpo's daily life <3 xoxo ad infinitum #Also did he expect Ranpo to come to him? Did he know why if so? Who's to say! Definitely not Kolya!#For all intents and purposes he's joking.. MOSTLY. He's saying all of this to be irritating but he also Does partly believe that Ranpo #wouldn't go out of his way for just any ol' case/thing nor to find just any ol' boring person

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thelesbianturnabout · 1 year

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does anyone know how to disable the “top posts” display that sits on top of your blog in the app?

(^ this thingy)

because on one of my sideblogs i just noticed one of the three pictures was replaced with a banner reading “proshippers kys”??? which is just so. not something i would ever want to post or display

i’m pretty sure someone did an image switcheroo by editing their post, so the version i reblogged and the version displayed in top posts didn’t match? i deleted the offending post (which was just some innocuous otp dynamic doodle?) but cautionary tale for everyone with this feature enabled i guess lmao

i’m super lucky it happened on a sideblog where i’m only followed by like 3 people and 89 porn bots but i reeeeally don’t want it to happen again here so if anyone knows how to turn it off let me know pls and tku!!!

#this hellsite is my hellhome xoxo #ALSO FOR THE RECORD. i feel the need to clarify that i’m not pro or anti #i just find both sides soooooo irritating that i think that’s what got me so worked up over this haha #long post #delete later

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leclerc-hs · 1 month

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it's cool, we're just friends? - cl16

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.”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine #f1 one shot

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rubiehart · 1 month

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jj is the type to beg you for head, just on his knees absolutely pleading for you to suck his dick

xoxo- 🦢

oh my goshhh.. can i expand by saying this is him when he takes E at a kegger and he’s just uncontrollable.. swan nonnie ily

you and john b had to practically drag jj back to the chateau, he’d taken something he clearly couldn’t handle and he was uncontrollable to say the least, random bursts of energy as john b wrestled him through the door, ignoring his protests to stop being a ‘party pooper’, the door rattling in its frame as jj knocked in with his shoulder, erupting into another fit of uncontrollable laughter as you and john b shared an irritated look. “get inside bro, you have got to sober up.”

you’d managed to pin him to the bed of the guest room, john b excusing himself when he saw jj was getting antsy, he’d had enough and decided you could handle him on your own. “john b get back here now.” you’d mutter sternly, as he just shrugged with a smirk, shutting the door to the bedroom and you heard the soft click of his bedroom door across the hall locking, letting out a defeated huff as jj cracks up at nothing in particular.

“what the fuck did you take?” you say, rubbing at your forehead frustratedly as jj places his hands behind his head, blinking rapidly at the ceiling and sighing. “tell your boobs to stop staring at my eyes.” you look down at him in shock as he laughs. “oh my god..” you sigh, getting off of him, releasing he’s literally hard as a rock underneath you as he groans out.

“please do somethin’..” he pleas, reaching out for you as you sigh. “i’ve never been this fuckin’ hard in my life.. i dunno what i took but i cant do this shit..when you’re standin’ there lookin’ like that-” he rambles.

“you’re gonna shut up if i do?” you ask with a sigh and his eyes widen, wondering if you were being serious. “are you kiddin’, or…?” he questions, smirking a little. you shake your head, crawling up to him on the bed and working on his zipper, you hear him breathing heavily and look up at him with a cocked brow. “what? you never had a blowie before?” you ask with a chuckle, working his cargo shorts down his thighs.

“not from a smoke show like you.” he smirks, pulling his waistband down to release his cock and your breath catches in your throat. he was a fucking monster, rock hard and practically pulsing with the intensity, pretty pink tip leaking precum down his shaft, you look up at his face again to catch him tonguing at a fresh cut on his lip, clearly enjoying himself, a little too confident, you thought.

“you’re such a dick.” you mumble, working his shaft with two hands as he throws his head back against the stack of pillows. “hm?” he half moans out through clenched teeth. “please.. put it in your mouth.” he groans out and you feel yourself clench, your panties getting wetter by the second. “needy boy.” you joke, swirling your tongue around his tip. the small touch is like fireworks in his nervous system as he moans like a little bitch at the little kitten licks you were giving him. this was gonna be fun.

#🦢 anon ᰔ #jj maybank blurbs #jj maybank obx #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x reader #jj obx #jj x reader #jj maybank headcanon #jj maybank smut #jj maybank #jj maybank blurb #obx

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kittywriites · 2 years

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day z edgurr jones and duckota jonson are the same person in a different font and the only way i know that is that they both annoy me on an unhinged level for literally no fucking reason, i just cant stand their faces?????

#they've literally done nothing wrong so i'm sorry lmao #and i fULLY acknowledge my hatred of them is utterly baseless and irrational lmfao #its just like INSTANT irritation whenever i see either one and like.....why #what is my problem #also do not come for me i purposely fudged their name spelling so it wouldn't show up anywhere but here xoxo

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mariasont · 1 month

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Okay okay, so this doesn't have to be smutty if you don't want but enemies to lovers Spencer, they banter and fight at work they just can't get along * cough sexual tension cough* she is like really short, 5 foot nothing. And one day during an argument she goes "I'll climb you like a tree!" Trying to be intimidating but it comes off as something entirely 😂

Climb You Like A Tree

A/N: ahhhh thank you so much for the request--loved, loved, loveddd writing this! <3 xoxo

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: suggestive flirting, enemies to lovers

wc: 1.1k

From the moment you joined the BAU, you were immediately drawn to Dr. Spencer Reid, resident boy genius and pretty boy. You were hooked on his random facts, and his rare snarky comments--essentially everything about him.

But that admiration swiftly turned into exasperation after just a week of working alongside him. What began as quirky charm quickly soured; his random facts, once amusing, now felt like thinly veiled jabs, and his 'occasional' snark became a relentless critique targeting you. You were at a loss, unable to pinpoint the exact misstep that had seemingly placed you on the receiving end of his pointed barbs, but it was clear you had inadvertently crossed some invisible line.

You couldn't shake the feeling that you were an unwelcome replacement for Alex in his eyes. But surely, he couldn't blame you for that, could he? You tried to overlook his subtle digs, to treat them as mere background noise, but god he made it hard.

Month after month, you kept your head down, refusing the grant him the reaction he so desperately wanted. You were new and hesitant about your place on the team, so you bore the blunt of his jabs with a diplomatic smile.

By the fourth month, you'd reached your breaking point, and you unleashed your own brand of sharp-tongued retorts. You were known for your smart mouth in your old department--a skill that had made you both a standout and a frequent flyer in the disciplinary office. You could sense the team's growing frustration at your constant bickering. Yet, there was an unspoken acknowledgement of the singular abilities you both contributed, a balance that tipped in the favor of necessity.

Today had been particularly challenging, your most recent case had ended in the death of seven victims before the unsub ultimately killed himself, taking the locations of the victims with him. So, when you landed and were greeted not by a moment's rest but by a mocking monolith of paperwork, you were at your wits end.

"Could you click that pen any louder?" you grumbled, your eyes blazing with irritation as they met Spencer's, causing for a momentary pause in your flurry of activity.

"Technically, yes. The Doppler Effect dictates that the perceived volume changes with distance, so if I were to move closer to you, the clicking would indeed sound louder to you," Spencer retorted with a sardonic edge, inching closer across the desk, his pen's clicks swelling in volume as if to underscore the scientific principle he so carefully threw upon you.

"Come any closer and I swear I'll shove that pen where the sun doesn't shine."

"Yeah, you'd like that wouldn't you?"

You bit back the words that sat on the tip of your tongue, acutely aware of Hotch's scrutinizing stare. If was reprimand was on the horizon, you were determined not to be the recipient, despite Spencer's knack for bushing your buttons. The worst part of it all was how undeniably attractive you found Spencer to be--you liked his nerdy comments, the way you had to break your neck to look at him, and even that stupid smirk of his.

It was like a twisted game of fuck, marry, kill--except Spencer was your choice for all three, a secret you'd never admit to anyone. God knows that his ego was already overinflated.

"You know, while acai berries themselves are rich in antioxidants, the bowls are often misleadingly marketed as superfoods. In reality, the excessive amounts of granola, sweetened fruits, and added sugars make it the equivalent of dressing up a dessert as a fruit salad."

Your spoon paused mid-air suspended in the stillness of the break room, as your gaze drifted upwards to lock with Spencer's. A smirk unfurled across your lips, and with deliberate slowness, you savored a slow, exaggerated mouthful, the spoon exiting your mouth with a prolonged, tantalizing pull. A contented moan escaped you. "Mmm, nothing beats a bowl of disguised indulgence. Thanks for the insight, but this 'fruit salad' just became a tad sweeter."

You observed him as he stood, mouth slightly open, eyes glued to your lips with an intensity that bordered on reverence. Anticipating his usual quick-witted comeback, you were met with silence. "Aww, what's the matter, wonder boy? Cat got your tongue?"

"Not at all, but it wouldn't hurt for the cat to catch yours for a change," he replied, stepping forward, his stare cutting through the space between you.

"Look who's talking. When you finally decide to censor your own commentary, that's when I'll consider silence," you pronounced, your acai bowl abandoned on the counter as a wave of irritation surged within you, propelling you forward.

"Censor my commentary? Trust me, If I didn't, we'd be having a very different conversation right now," he murmured, his frame inching so close you could feel the warmth of his breath.

"You must love the sound of my voice to be this close. Remind me again about the Doppler Effect?" you snapped, attempting to sound unaffected, but your body betrayed you--a rush of warmth blooming over your face. "Or is it just my personal bubble that's too tempting?"

"Are you always this flustered when someone invades your space, or am I the exception?" he teased, stepping in even closer, nearly pressing against you. Your gazes locked in a silent challenge as you tilted you head up defiantly, your heart doing somersaults in your chest.

"Flustered? Hardly. I'm just sizing up the tree before I climb," you declare, your gaze sharpening to fine points. "And you're not as tall as you think."

A sudden burst of laughter spilled from Spencer, a rich sound that echoed through the minimal space between you. He didn't step back, your chests touching. The sound jolted you, and as the weight of your own words hit you, a fierce blush flared across your cheeks, your embarrassment impossible to hide.

"Wait, that's not--ugh!" you stammer, but Spencer is already retreating towards the bullpen, his laughter trailing behind him, taunting you. Your voice echoes down the hallway as you hurry after his figure. "Spencer!"

At the bullpen's entrance, Spencer halts, turning to address the team with a grin. "Guess who just said she's planning to climb me like a tree?" he announces, your words now on display for the entire team. Heat creeps into your cheeks as you wish the ground would swallow you whole.

"Called it!" Penelope's voice rang up, her hands waving like she was directing a parade. "Profiler? Please, I didn't need a badge to see this coming. Doubters, eat your hearts out. Get it, girl!"

"I said 'like a tree' in a metaphorical sense, guys. You know, like overcoming obstacles...not literally climbing Spencer!" you mumble, your face hidden behind your hands, the embarrassment radiating from your cheeks.

With a lean that closed the gap between you, Spencer's voice was low and teasing, "Keep telling yourself that."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer #spencer reid #dr reid x reader #dr reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fandom #doctor spencer reid #mgg #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid fanfic

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hades-in-bloom · 8 months

Text

Scars

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

summary: thinking of Leon’s scars (with a little bit of touching).

warnings & contents: fluff; assumed older Leon (more of RE6 and Vendetta, although I keep using ID! to illustrate); could be age gap, could be none; lots of cuddling; mentions of violence (sorta); the reader could be any gender; no mentions of y/n

a/n: a blurb, because I can. As always, proceed at your own risk. Minors DNI! Masterlist xoxo

soundtrack: billie eilish — when the party’s over

***

Leon’s figure was resting on top of the bedsheets, his bare back exposed to one’s curious sight with his features relaxed, while he was catching up on hours of sleep he was deprived of this week; thanks to another one of those excruciating missions. You couldn’t hold back a small smile; he looked so peaceful, lying there with disheveled dirty blonde hair and not a glimpse of worry on his face—something you would die to see more often after everything he has endured.

You were doing your best to stay as quiet as humanly possible so you wouldn’t wake him up when your gaze got drawn to the network of scars, interspersed with moles, scattered across his pale skin. There were a couple of fresh bruises flourishing into purple and yellow blobs, too, adding to a rich picture. You winced like you could feel his pain. You’d never get used to seeing him this way—seeing him hurt.

Your touch was lighter than one of a feather when your fingers slid over one of his scars, tracing its shape slowly, with care. This one seemed to be old, fading away over the years, thus one of the rarest ones—as there were many more those anew, coming in different shapes and shades of pink. It didn’t matter, though, how many of them were on Kennedy’s body—you knew them all, keeping the count.

You pulled your hand away in a swift motion as you felt Leon stir. He was still half-asleep when he opened his eyes a crack, his gaze fixed on your features. You looked guilty.

“Hey,” he muttered hoarsely with a faint smile. He didn’t sound irritated—rather exhausted. “Can’t keep your hands off of me, sweetheart?”

You chuckled softly as you eliminated the distance between the two of you, and then rested your head on the edge of his pillow. His hand immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you up.” You pressed your lips against his forehead. You kept your voice barely above the whisper, hoping he’d be able to go back to sleep.

He hummed, “It’s okay,” with his eyes almost shut again, as his mind stayed in the half-place between awakeness and dreams. His thumb caressed your side mindlessly, soothing himself down.

You put your hands on his back in a kind of hug, feeling the bumps of his scars under your fingers.

“You have never told me their stories,” you said quietly, cradling him with your touch.

Leon’s body tensed slightly, his face now hidden in the crook of your neck. His warm and even breathing sent shivers down your spine.

The man became silent for a moment, taking his time before he replied, “I don’t believe these are stories that I should make you listen to.”

He preferred not to bring his work home.

You didn’t insist—you have always respected his choices. You left a kiss on his temple while Leon hugged you tighter.

“I’ll listen to anything you’d be willing to tell me, handsome.”

He smiled; you could feel his lips stretching out on the skin of your neck. It wasn’t a trust issue; Kennedy could tell that much—but he needed time to gather the courage to drag you into his waking nightmare.

“Maybe one day, sweetheart,” Leon sighed deeply, his tone calm as he admitted; his eyes now closed. “Maybe one day.”

You spent the next minutes running fingers through his hair until he drifted back into a blissful sleep.