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echobx · 1 day

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not my type 3 - Rafe Cameron x plus size!fem!reader

summary: y/n is trying to reconcile with her feelings towards Rafe

warnings: angsty, swearing, Rafe being a bit of an ass

word count: 3.1k

author's note: I don't really know what happened. I'm sorry /gen

part 1 part 2

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“What's he doing here?” you hiss at your best friend when you watch Rafe walk in, a blonde girl on his arm as he is greeted by your father. “Your dad invited all the partners, you signed up on that, remember,” Claire reminds you and you groan. If you had remembered that he'd be there, you would've worn something else. Something more revealing. “He doesn't look like-” Claire mumbles as you turn and drag her with you towards the bar. “I know he doesn't. And he's not my type. And I hate him,” you list, and she lifts her eyebrows at you. “But?” “I haven’t- I tried everything okay, literally everything. But I can't cum,” you whisper. “The only time I manage to even get close to it, is on my own picturing him. And I hate it. I don't like it at all. It's disgusting and shouldn't be happening. Especially not to me.” “I think we should get drunk. Hammered, actually. Like in college,” she smiles and orders two shots of tequila for each of you. You down the shots and turn back around to watch the mass of people in front of you. Everyone is mingling but no matter how much you try to not pay any attention to him, your eyes seem to be stuck. He looks good. Too good. The loose suit shirt half unbuttoned, giving view to his abs just enough to make you wanna rip the fabric off.

It had been three whole months. Three months since he had left you wanting more. Three months since you had made him sleep on your couch, denying him the pleasure to sleep in your bed after what he had pulled at the restaurant and when you had woken up he had been gone. No note. No goodbye. Nothing. It was a clean cut. The same thing you did the first time round. Just that he managed to make you cave, and you can't let it happen again. You have too much self-respect to let him get to you, again. Too much resentment towards him. Too much of all of it for him to ruin you. And besides, you can always hold onto the fact that he really isn't your type, he'd never be.

“Abort. Abort! Move, y/n/n! They are on their way over,” Clair pushes against you, but it feels like you're stuck. “And they're here.” “Mr. Cameron, you remember my daughter,” your dad smiles politely, and you do your best to mirror it, but refusing to actually look at Rafe. To meet his gaze and get lost in it. Too scared that it'll remind you of that day. You hold out your hand to shake his, but instead of giving it a proper shake, Rafe takes your hand softly into his own. He leans down and kisses your knuckles, staring right into your eyes, and you can swear your heart is about to stop. And there you are again, mentally trapped under the weight of his hot body, his eyes never leaving yours as he pounds into, nearly splitting you in half. You could swear he thinks of it too when your eyes linger before you harshly pull your hand away. “I remember him well. Please, do enjoy the party,” you say and quickly excuse yourself to the restroom.

You lock yourself in a stall, sitting down on the toilet and trying to keep yourself from crying. “Are you okay?” Claire asks and you let out a choked cry. “No. I don't think so, no.” You shake your head. It's unfair that you feel like this while he's perfect and not at all having any issues with it. “If you cry, bend over, so the tears fall on the floor and don't ruin your makeup,” she suggests, and you stand to follow her instructions, just in case. “Please tell me she's an escort. I can't deal with this if she isn't,” you press out. You don't know what exactly is wrong with you, never having been in a situation like this before. “I don't think so. But I can do some research on it and get back to you,” you hear her stilettos on the marble as she walks away. “He's no one. You don't care. You hate him. He's an asshole. A complete asshole,” you tell yourself, and it seems to help at first, but when you close your eyes he's there again. Brushing sweaty strands of hair from your face and telling you that you're his. And it all starts anew.

“Y/n? Are you still in there?” you hear Claire ask and reply with a quick “yes.” “So, not an escort, but they just met at a bar. I guess he just brought her along to mess with you.” “I think I'm having a heart attack,” your breath hitches, and you hold yourself up with a hand pressed to the stall door, still standing bent over like she had suggested earlier. “Okay, tell me your symptoms, and I'll look it up. I'm not gonna call an ambulance if it's not real,” she replies, and you hate that you love her for being so pragmatic. “I can't breathe, and my chest feels narrow and at the same time as if it's about to burst and I wanna rip his head off,” you cry out. “Yeah, no, WebMD says- Actually, you're probably right, it's probably just a heart attack,” your best friend doubles down quickly. Lifting your head you unlock the door and step out, snatching the phone from her hands to read the screen. “What the fuck does WebMD know about heartache? How am I supposed to even have gotten that? I don't even like anyone. Especially not Rafe Cameron!” you sneer. “Okay, let's just calm down and then go back out there and not make a scene. You think we can do that?” Claire slowly pulls her phone out of your claws, and you glare at yourself in the mirror. “Of course we can.” It takes you a second to switch up your face, back to smiling and pretending like your life was just as good as everyone thought it to be. “Who cares about some small town asshole, right?”

You manage to spend the rest of the night without much drama, always making sure to not be close enough to him so he couldn't share another look with you or even get close enough to pull you away.

And when you get home you pull off your heels and throw them to the side while stepping out of the elevator. It takes some time to peel yourself out of the outfit you had forced yourself into, and even longer to free your hair from all the fixing gel the stylist had put in it. In the end you find yourself curled up on your couch, sweats on and a blanket drawn over you while eating ice cream and watching your favorite movie, just to make it easier on your heart.

You really want to avoid going to the office the next day, but after your dad announced to open another office down in Florida, you didn't expect him to put so much of the work on you to make up for it. That's how you find yourself buried in paperwork and working through the night, making it 4am when you finally get back home. And you're exhausted, drained and moody and not at all able to rejoice. The job you once loved is reduced to a dull day to day bullshit that you can only imagine being the worst you have ever felt. And all of it was because of him.

“You need to look at the Cameron account. He says we gave him a bad deal. Fix it,” your dad orders the next day, and you grit your teeth, but you can't just not do it. This was professional, nothing personal should've ever gotten in the way of that. “I'll fly down next thing tomorrow morning,” you tell him and hang up the phone. But getting back to the paperwork seems impossible.

The jet lands and you smell the salty air, so clean compared to New York. “Do you want to go to the hotel to freshen up first, miss?” your driver asks. “No, take me to the office. I want to be off this island again, as fast as possible.”

“Mr. Cameron isn't available right now,” his assistant tells you and you scoff. “He’s not getting a better deal unless he gets his ass over here in the next five minutes. Do you understand that?” you stare her down, and she nods before getting on the phone. “He's on his way, Miss,” she says shyly after hanging up, and you smile at her. “Thank you.”

“Didn't think you'd actually come down here for it,” Rafe mocks a laugh as he walks into the building, pulling his glasses off. “I take my job rather seriously, Mr. Cameron.” You look him up and down, there is no mistaking. He had been out golfing. “Let's go to my office,” he starts walking, and you follow, clenching your jaw because your eyes keep darting down to his ass, that looks so delicious in the tight pants.

“What's the issue with the contract?” you ask flatly, whilst taking the seat opposite of him. “Oh, there's no issue with the contract. Not that I don't think it's a perfect contract, but it's giving good enough profit on my end, so I shouldn't care too much about it,” he waves it off and you can feel your blood boiling. “Why did you make me fly all the way down here for nothing!” You spit out and stand, harshly pushing your chair back as you do. “That's it, that's the issue. There's nowhere in there where it says ‘Miss y/l/n has to come and check in on Mr. Cameron every once a month.’ We missed that little line, I'm afraid,” he's cocky. Too cocky. And for once you don't find it charming. “I'm your boss, remember?” Your eyes narrow and he smirks deeply. “You wouldn't be if I dropped you. I can always just do that. Unless you don't want me to. We wouldn't wanna disappoint daddy, right?” he mocks and you swallow hard. But he's bluffing, he has to be. “He'll understand after I tell him how you took advantage of me. Two can play this game, Rafe,” you say his name with so much disgust in your voice that he's pretending to be offended by it. “If anything, you were the one taking advantage of me. I mean, you are my superior after all. And I'm just a young man, who lost his father and is struggling to keep his company afloat.” “You're a real asshole, you know that?” “Been told before,” he grins.

“What do you really want?” you finally cave and ask the question that had been lying on your tongue since landing on the island. “You,” he looks at you, no hint of a lie in his eyes. “I don't want you, though,” you lie nonchalantly. But your heart is racing, and the heat has been puddling in your pants for some time. “Why not?” “I don't need to give a reason for that. At least I didn't go around hiring escorts or whatever for events that no one even wanted me to be at,” you huff. “Your dad invited me personally. He called, telling me about how much of a Debbie Downer you are. He actually tried to apologize for your behavior that day,” Rafe laughs and your eye starts twitching, nostrils flaring and jaw clenching in anger. “Listen, I know it's partially my fault, but I was the only one there who was actually prepared to teach you a lesson. I don't know if you've learned it yet, but I'd be more than happy to give you a refresher on it.” “You're fucked in the head, Rafe,” you mutter before going to walk out. “Yeah, ‘cause I'm the one with the unresolved issues here,” he calls after you as you storm out.

You know you can't go home already, it'd be too suspicious, so you take the room at the dumb hotel and at least try to relax a little.

The next morning your dad calls just to tell you to check out on the properties, make sure that Rafe wasn't selling undervalue. You make your way to the construction sites, your jeans and skimpy shirt are the only thing covering your body as you fight the heat. “The best Italian marble, Miss,” the site manager tells you while walking you through what would later be the master-bathroom. “Looks good. Will you be able to stick to the schedule?” you ask and hear a familiar laugh behind you. “Of course they will, we've got only the best men down here, Miss.” Rafe walks over and you roll your eyes. “I care about numbers and about making my clients happy. The rest is not on my level of expertise, especially the quality of men down here,” you tell him before looking back at the manager. “Thank you so much for the tour.”

You turn in your heels and walk out to what will one day be a beautiful garden. “Walk with me, Cameron.” “Are you suddenly interested again, or?” “Keep it in your pants, asshole. No, and I'll never be ever again.” “You say that now,” he smirks, and you roll your eyes again. “I'm not a puppet for anyone. Not for my dad, and especially not for you. Do you understand?” you urge, and he runs his hand over the light stubble on his chin. “I was just like that, then my shit father died and some therapy later, and now we're better than ever.” “You're wrong. I'm not like you, and I'll never be. Wanna know why?” you lean in and he swallows. “Pretty sure you're about to tell me, sugar.” “Because I actually chose this life because I wanted it, not because I felt guilty or like I needed some praise. My life is perfect as is. Understood?” “Sure you are,” he laughs. “I am!” Rafe leans in and whispers, “is that what you tell yourself, late at night when you can't cum unless you think of me. The way I made you beg, and you could only finish ‘cause I let you. Because at the end of the day, you'll always be my good girl.” You push him away from you, watching him stumble backwards, before stomping back to the house, through it and getting into your car.

You can't help it, it feels like he's jinxed you. And when you're back at the hotel and try to get off, you once again can't. It's frustrating to say the least and the worst part of it is that he knows, and you don't know how he found out, but it's too late for that.

You didn't intend to find yourself knocking on his door. But here you are, standing in your sweats and hoodie, hammering on the windowpane until you can see him run down the stairs, and you wrap your arms around yourself. “What are you doing here?” Rafe asks but lets you in, anyway. “I had a nice life. I was content with it all. I was happy. I could go to clubs and hook up in a dirty bathroom and get off whenever I liked. I was free!” you yell at him, but it's hard to stay focused the way he's standing in front of you. Bare chest and gray sweatpants that never could've tried to hide the outline of his massive dick even if he had wanted to. “I understand,” he tries his best to not smile as he wets his lips. “You owe me one. That's for fucking sure. So, I came to cash it in so we can go back to pretending neither of us exist or have any interest in each other in any way. Ever. Good?” you tilt your head to the side before storming past him upstairs into his bedroom. “That's a really bad idea!” Rafe calls after you, but he's also not actively stopping you. And when you open the door to his bedroom you know why. Or better who.

“Are you coming back to bed?” His assistant is lying there, face pressed into his pillow and completely naked. “Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me,” you huff a laugh, pushing past him just as he made it up the stairs. “Y/n, I can explain,” he tries, but you're filled with rage. “Why would you need to explain anything? You're free to do what you like, or in this case who. I just don't know if HR would like to know about this arrangement,” you scream, not giving a single fuck about the girl. “We don't have HR,” Rafe reminds you. “Fine. You're fired.” Your voice has reached a pitch that you had never heard of yourself before and breathing got harder by the second. “You can't fire me.” “I can do whatever the fuck I want, Rafe! I can do anything I want!” ‘Apart from getting what I want, what I need,’ you think, but you don't tell him that. “I would've kicked her out if I'd known,” he tries to console you while following you back downstairs. “Oh, that's really soothing. Thank you, Rafe,” you scoff. “You're acting a little crazy right now, sugar.” “Says the guy who made up an emergency, so I would have to come down here in the hopes that I'd jump his bones? And the fact that it would've nearly worked if you weren't so fucking selfish. You're such a selfish asshole!” You don't even realize that you're crying until you rip the door open and the cold wind makes your teary face feel frozen. “And you're a bitch,” he snaps back, finally actually fighting. “You left without saying goodbye!” “You made me sleep on the fucking couch!” “I should've kicked you out on the street!” “Why the fuck are you suddenly pretending to care so much about what I think or do? I'm not even your type, remember?” he sneers and your walls, the perfectly built walls inside of you start crumbling.

“I don't have a fucking type, Rafe! I don't get to have a type! I get to take any hot guy that thinks it'd be fun to fuck a fat chick, because they are high or have to get a dare out of the way. And you don't get to hurt me. You don't get to tell me how to feel about myself. Do you get that? This is my game, I'm the queen, and I thought that maybe, just maybe, you could be different. But you're not. You're just who I thought you'd be. No disappointment there.” Your rant calms you down a bit, and you get quieter with each sentence. “I'm going home. Don't even think about ever stepping foot into my city again.”

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please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180@drwstarkeyy@notdxbya @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

part 4

#rafe cameron #obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #obx fanfiction #~fanfiction #my writing #angst

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raveartts · 2 years

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Sometimes I remember I'm an artist and I can draw things

Anyways I want to draw a dakimakura of cutthroat, that's all

#raveartts #rave rambles #i don't have a pillow #i don't know how much it costs to custom print a cover #my computer literally can't handle a canvas size that big with that much detail #but i WANT to #I saw someone already drew one though and tbh they're better than i could ever be #but omg i could have one side normal outfit #and the other with his concept crop top and his bandages coming off and he's bleeding everywhere <33 #I could just make one for fun and never get it actually made lmao #i don't think I'd want something so hard to hide in my room tbh #it's not like it's an issue it's just my mom will be like hmnbmmmm what's that #i could make one for Hatsune miku my beloved #though I'm sure thousands of better ones exist for her #maybe for fushi #but he doesn't have enough sex appeajllhddhkk no i shouldn't SAY that #Daniel? but I'm kinda over him atm and i still find him so hard to draw #i never know how i want to styalize his hair #i do kinda want a body pillow though i hear they're good for your back?#and it's so cozy to cuddle something at night #i have a giant seal plushie but it's not really shaped for sleep #it's still so comforting though #wait i could literally make a dakimakura of my ocs #nothing is limiting me to existing canon characters #my main sona already has a dual design i could use #though i need to finalize it

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norrisleclercf1 · 2 months

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i cant stop thinking about being sandwiched between carlando and there both just sleepy boys who have a tight grip on you and they just love you so much your there baby

A/N: This has been sitting here forever, but I finally got inspired

It was one of those rare moments when both Carlos and Lando are home at the same time. It was rare for them to be home at the same time, as their schedules were so hectic that you would normally only seen one of them or neither. Of course, you would sometimes feel left out, as they were with each other more than you were with them.

But it was mornings like these, that reminds you, you have nothing to be worried about. Carlos was sound asleep, snoring a little storm behind you as his arm was wrapped around you and Lando both, holding both of you close.

Lando was in front of you, his face slack showing off his boyish age which made you smile. His beard was growing a little bit better, and honestly it has grown on you so much, but you'd never openly admit it to him. Lando whines and moves closer, his curls tickling your nose, but you don't mind.

You feel Carlos's arm tighten and then relax, you knew this meant he was awake, but still quiet sleepy as they had flown in not even 4 hours ago. Their bodies, trying to get used to the proper time.

"Time?" Carlos whispers, his voice dark and smokey from the sleep. You turn over slowly, careful to not stir Lando who was a deep sleeper. "3 am," You whisper, snuggling into your boyfriend's chest. Carlos sighs and closes his eyes, hair messy and lips puffy.

Lando moves closer into you and sighs in a way that has Carlos moving his fingers over Lando's sides. "I know you're awake," Carlos whispers, which has Lando groan and move even closer into you. "I hate time zones, they shouldn't exists." Lando groans, voice croaky but keeps close to you, craving body warmth.

"Shhhh, go back to sleep," Carlos whispers and Lando nods his head, closing his eyes mouth falling open again and soft snores leave his lips. Carlos chuckles and you laugh as well, as Lando had no issues falling back asleep. "You should get some more sleep too," You whisper, wanting him to get that proper sleep, especially with them traveling all the time it's hard to get the proper amount of sleep.

"I'll get some more sleep soon, just want to enjoy this a little bit more," Carlos hums, but you can see him losing the fight with sleep. It doesn't take long, as you close your eyes and feel Carlos fall asleep beside you. "I'm glad you two are home," You whisper.

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 6 months

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hi lovely x could you write something about you being lando’s comfort person? like he just comes to you when he’s feeling off or something is wrong and you cuddle and talk and that makes him feel better? thank you if you do xx

Just You. Only You. - LN

Complicated friends to soulmates lovers trope coming in strong.

Also just for a bit of timeline context, this is after the Qatar race weekend.

The whole race weekend felt deflating and exhausting.

When he arrives home in Monaco the apartment feels eerily empty and being there without someone there to come home to, honestly he feels hallow. He tries to ignore the attack of his own thoughts, but just having finished things in Qatar where he was incredibly hard on himself, the media and fans rip into him for simply being jealous of Oscar for the Sprint win.

He stay in his apartment just long enough to shower, change and grab a small bag of stuff before heading out. Not wanting to be surrounded by the reminders of why he feels so shitty in himself.

Heading to another part of Monaco, he finds himself at a door, pressing the buzzer. He knows y/n is there.

"Hello?"

"Hey, y/n."

There's not even a response, just the clicking of the door unlocking allowing him to get through and move to the lift. But eventually he gets up to her door which is dangerously always unlocked but since she lives in Monaco where crime isn't really an issue unless it's white collar, he guesses she doesn't care that much.

"Hey." Y/n smiles lying on the sofa. "What bring you to my humble abode?"

Usually he'd make a joke questioning just how humble her abode is. When he doesn't, she frowns then opens her arms allowing him to move and immediately move over to her. His body lies heavy on top of her.

"What wrong, Lan?" Y/n asks softly, that gentle tone that wraps him in cotton.

"The race...the whole weekend...everything." Lando lets letting out a heavy breath that unknowingly earns a frown but she doesn't let it show for long and he doesn't see it as she plays with his hair.

"You're going to be ok." Y/n whispers, her words washing over the young man who just sinks down against her. "I wish you saw yourself the way I see you. You are so amazing, I just...I really wish I could just force you to see yourself the same."

Lando's face flickers with a smile but it's only temporary.

"I'm not winning...I'm not getting the rewards everyone else that is so great is getting. Charles got two wins in his first year with Ferrari-"

"And then none for the two seasons that followed...You are too hard on yourself. You shouldn't compare yourself to others, Lando. It's not healthy."

"My entire career is based on comparing myself to others."

Y/n remains quiet making Lando feel a tug of guilt that leaves him nuzzling down into her. He loves y/n, she is the only person who makes him feel safe like this.

Their friendship is complicated because of these moments. Their time alone with each other is always like this, but when they're around others it's like these moments don't exist.

One day Lando knows he's going to marry her. It's just going to be a matter of time before he finally makes his move. But for now he'll settle for these late nights and private moments. Just for them to enjoy each other.

The soft music suddenly fills the silence and Lando smiles hearing the gentle song that so perfectly suits y/n while Lando prefers techno, you'll catch her listening to Hozier or Noah Kahan. Something that doesn't has so much of a deafening club beat.

"Can you come to the next race?" Lando asks not looking up in fear of her answer but with where his head is placed. He finds her heart thudding all of a sudden under his head. "Your heart is beating so fast. You're not about to die underneath me."

"You're such a muppet." Y/n scoffs then rubbing Lando's back. "I love coming to races with you, if you invited me more often, I'd be there all the time."

"You have an open invitation. It's you attending university that is the problem here."

"It's not a problem. You're just jealous that I'm smart enough to actually get into university." Y/n jokes then sighing. "It's Austin next isn't it?"

"Yeah, then Mexico where you're going to come join us too. And obviously Vegas! You have to come to the last race in Abu Dhabi too." Lando smiles while y/n laughs at his growing excitement.

"Sounds like my calendar is full. I'll have to inform my professors that my best friend takes priority when it comes to social life vs school grades."

"I'll compensate you for it."

"Well now I just have to accept it." Y/n giggles before she sighs. "I have to be there for my only therapy client."

"You do." Lando confirms grinning at her. "Can I sleep here tonight?"

"You know you can." Y/n states before she swallows thickly then yawning as she shifts. "You have too options. Bunk in with me, or I'll see up the sofa?"

"Stupid question."

"Alright, come on." Y/n laughs patting him in gesture for him to get up.

They both get up and while she goes about her usual skincare routine, throughout which she feels Lando's eyes burning through her being all while she tries to ignore the feeling of his eyes just on her constantly.

"Come here, Casanova. We're going to give your skin some well needed attention." Y/n smiles making him get up looking genuinely excited as he jumps up from her bed and moves to sit on her drawers. Thankfully they're stable enough to not just fall over from his rapid movement.

"Why am I Casanova?" Lando asks with his eyes closed as she cleanses his face.

"Sorry?" Y/n frowns confused by the question.

"You called me Casanova, I just...I'm confused why."

"Oh...I mean you don't have any shortage of interested women. I don't even think you have to try most of the time, right?" Y/n smiles while Lando opens his eyes. "Don't look at me like that. Max has told me you've got no shame about it."

Y/n can tell she might've just undone all the comforting and mood improving. Until...

"Are you one of the interested women?"

She actually chokes on her breath and splutters for a moment looking shocked that he just came out and said it.

"We're best friends-"

"Not what I asked." Lando cuts in while she bites her lip and suddenly his ego gives him a boost of confidence. "I'm taking that as a yes."

"You're so annoying."

"Because I'm right." Lando smirks then wasting no time getting to do something that he feels he's waited far too long for. He kisses her, a smile nearly fighting him on being able to actually do it. "Fuck. I wasted so many years waiting to do this...You'll still be my personal therapist?"

"Of course I will." Y/n smiles before tilting her head a little and grinning at him. "I don't think I'd be able to live if the job passed onto someone else. But...I will have to go back to university at some point. I'm not paying for this degree to get nothing in the end."

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lando #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #norris #lando norris fanfic #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #mclaren formula 1

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bountycancelled · 7 months

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ANTIFRAGILE

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opla zoro x reader

in which, even though it doesn't seem like it, zoro cares (alot, about you, specifically)

genre: one shot, gn! reader, short

requested: yes! tysm (reqs are still open for anyone<3)

a/n: idk, enjoy I guess? (unedited)

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"need any help, darling?" Sanji's flirtatious voice rang out from behind you, disturbing your damn near embarrassing attempts at lifting a box.

you huffed as you dropped it once again, turning to face Sanji as you shrugged him off with a wave of your hand. "no no, I wouldn't want you using your hands for something that isn't in the kitchen. I can manage."

an unconvinced Sanji nodded before walking off, leaving you and your own stubbornness to deal with the heavy lifting. the truth of the matter was, that you definitely did need help, but you'd be dammed to hell before accepting any.

it seemed as if you had some sort of problem accepting yourself for who you were.

you were by far the most stealthy individual anyone had ever met, most people didn't even know you were in the room until you had a knife to their throat. you were the resident idea person in high pressure situations, and what you lacked in strength, you made up for in technique.

ah yes, strength. if there was one thing that you could not accept that you didn't have, it was physical strength. you were never the type to brute force your way out of a situation zoro-style, bit it would still be nice to have the option of doing so.

it wasn’t as if anybody in the crew made you feel bad for your lack of strength, it was more so an internal issue within your own psyche.

what could you say? you were tired of having to ask your fellow crew mates to help you do something as simple as carrying something from point A to point B. you were tired of feeling useless every time more hands on approach was needed. but that all ended today. (well, you hoped that it all ended today anyway)

after what felt like and probably was an eternity you could finally lift the box that you had set your eyes on, sure you had taken so long that Luffy had forgotten that he even wanted it but you had done it nonetheless and you were proud of yourself. that pride however was short lived with your body ache in a way that you never thought possible.

you knew, or at the very least, you thought that you knew how much your body could take, but said body had no problem humbling you the second you had gotten a little too confident in skills that you didn't have.

you weakly limped towards your room, ignoring the sympathetic look from Sanji, the "you shouldn't have done that but I still feel bad" look from Nami, the soft pat on your back from usopp, Luffy not even noticing your current state, and Zoro's blank cold stare with what you could only hope bubbled with a bit of concern.

you would be lying if you said that you weren't trying to impress a certain green haired individual on the crew with a knack for using swords in unconventional ways. but your little schoolgirl crush was getting to the point where it was causing you physical pain, and you needed to get your mind out of its delusion.

Zoro was not going to give you attention just because you lifted a heavy bo–

your self chastising session was ended prematurely by a knock in the door, that kind of sounded like an alien life form trying to imitate a human custom. you let out a small 'come in', not being entirely suprised to see Zoro on the other side. (after all, he's the only in the crew who would care or even think to knock.)

what you were suprised to see however, was the plate of food in his hand. it was your favourite dinner which he had threatened Sanji to make which he placed on your desk, walking out just as quickly as he came.

before he left, he looked at you over his shoulder, seemingly contemplating if he should say what he wanted to say.

"you shouldn't push yourself to do something that's dangerous for you body. you're... more talented than you give yourself credit for."

you smiled to yourself, unable to not feel the butterflies floating around in your stomach, but his last words sent you over the edge.

"I don't want to see you hurting. ever."

#one piece x reader #one piece live action #one piece #zoro live action #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #opla x reader #opla #zoro x you

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darkbluekies · 3 months

Note

I just read Jerry and Hedwig reacting to us bleeding on the sheets what about the guys👀 specifically silas (cause my daddy issues run wild for him)😩

Silas, Dr Kry & King Edmund drabbles: bleeding through at a "sleepover" (or in their house)

The girls reaction male!yanderes (mob boss, doctor & king) x fem!reader Warnings?: sexual indication, disgusted by blood, yandere

Silas:

You're on a mission with him, staying in a house belonging to the second in command. Being the boss’s little darling has its benefits — especially in these situations. If you hadn't been his, chances are that you would get killed for ruining someone's sheets.

"Silas", you whisper while shaking him carefully. "Please, wake up. Oh, God, please wake up ..."

He grunts and opens his dark eyes, looking around confusedly before fixating his eyes on you. He freezes.

"What's wrong, baby?" he asks raspily and grabs your arm.

"I bled through ...", you whisper weakly, body full pf panic. "I didn't know, I wasn't supposed to start now!"

Silas removes the cover to look at the stain. He doesn't say anything as he removes them all before picking up his phone to call one of his most trustworthy men.

"Don't worry about it, baby", he says tiredly. "I'll fix this."

"Will your second in command get mad?" you ask hesitantly.

"He won't. He knows better." Silas holds the phone to his ear. "I need you to bring me new sheets and to send someone to buy whatever Y/N tells you to get. Here Y/N."

He gives you the phone. You tell the man on the other side what you need. He replies politely, knowing better than to talk informally to you. Silas stands by, watching carefully and rubbing your back.

As soon as you get what you need, you get out of your bottom clothes and change. Silas sits down in bed with you in his lap. He brings his legs up to trap you in his embrace. His rough hands sneak under your shirt to massage your aching stomach.

"You know ...", he whispers in your ear, hand traveling lower. "Exercise helps with cramps ... I know something that is a great form of exercise. Want me to show you?"

You grab his hand, moving it back to your stomach.

"Come on", he smirks against your jaw. "You'd like it."

"I'll kick your nuts if you continue talking", you warn him.

Silas chuckles and pulls the blankets higher, kissing your forehead.

"Women and their temperament", he grins and softens his face. "Guess I have to wait then. Why don't you try going to sleep, little thing? It's late."

"Are you sure your second in command won't be mad?" you ask carefully.

"If he even dares to snarl at you, I'll stain his sheets with his blood instead." Silas kisses your lips with a reassuring smile. "You have nothing to be worried about, little thing, I've always got your back."

Dr Kry:

He has installed a baby monitor, just a week prior, to being able to supervise you 24/7. He wakes up by hearing shuffling from the machine and takes a look to see you grabbing all of your sheets in your arms. Dr Kry frowns. Are you going to sleep on the floor again? You have such weird ideas to entertain yourself. But the look of sheer guilt and horror paints your face, knocking those thoughts out of his head. Dr Kry hurries to grab his silk robe and hurry up to your room.

You're currently washing them in the bathtub. You freeze when you hear him unlock the door and enter the room.

"Where are you?" he asks.

"Here", you reply quietly, watching how he enters the bathroom.

Dr Kry crouches down beside you on the floor, putting his hand on your shoulder. He glances between the sheets and your face.

"What happened?" he asks.

"I-I bled through", you say. "I'm so sorry, doctor, I will fix it-"

"No, you're not." Dr Kry grabs your arm and pulls you up in your feet. "I'll fix it. You're not well, you shouldn't do this."

You feel bad. Dr Kry works long shifts and during his only rest, you've forced him up to clean up the mess you've caused.

"Y/N, it's fine", the doctor reassures you and walks over to give you a short hug. "Things like this happens. You should look at it from another angle — you can be pregnant. You're fertile. Alright? That's a good thing. A very good thing."

He's secretly glad that his poisoning hasn't affected your reproduction organs. You need them. He wants you to have them. Dr Kry wants nothing more than to have children with you.

"Let's stop crying and realize that this isn't a big thing, okay?" he says and wipes your tears. "You don't have to be ashamed. I've watched much, much worse things."

"Like what?" you ask quietly.

Dr Kry smiles teasingly. "I've seen people spill urine samples on themselves, have had people using the rear temperature stick for a patients mouth, and whatnot. This is nothing. It's natural, nothing to be ashamed of."

You try not to smile. "Did someone really use the wrong temperature stick?"

Dr Kry grins and nods, happy to see you a bit calmer.

"Let's get you some painkillers now so you can go rest", he says and puts his hand on your back to guide you. "I'll change the sheets, and you can just sit by, okay? Everything you need is in the bathroom."

He sits with you until the cramps stop, and decide to stay in the room with you while you sleep, just in case you would wake up again. He smiles slightly for himself. The poisioned air hasn't ruined your chances of ferility, he couldn't be more greateful.

King Edmund

You're terrified of telling him. Edmund is the type to believe that you can hold it in. With absolutely zero knowledge about females, risk is that he will get mad at you for ruining his expensive sheets instead of understanding. You know that he buys them from special places. One of a kind.

Edmund has never been taught how women work, it has been taboo and unnecessary for him, as a king, to learn. The only thing he knows is that a woman bleeds once a month, and that is it. Nothing more. He doesn't know how it works or why it happens.

But you can't stop the maid from telling him. He comes walking from his office with a deep frown on his face. You're dead. Before sending the maids out, he walks over to the bed and inspects the damage. When the girls are gone and the door is closed, he turns to you.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks.

"I thought that you would get mad", you admit quietly. "It's your expensive sheets ..."

"And you think that it'll help the situation by sending one of the maids to tell me, instead of telling me yourself?"

"I didn't send her. I didn't want you to know ... at all."

"Why?"

"I told you ... I was scared that you'd get mad. You'd have told me to keep it in."

He groans, hiding his face in his hands. "For fucks sake, Y/N!" He removes his hands. "Why in the living Hell would I care more about about a pair of sheets rather than my own wife?"

You don't answer. Edmund walks over and grabs your shoulders before pulling you into a hug.

"You underestimate me, my jewel", he mutters and kisses your temple. "Now, go take a bath."

He tells a maid to fill the tub with scalding hot water to soothe your cramps and tells another maid to change the sheets.

"Burn the sheets and the night gown", he tells the maid. "I don't want anyone unworthy to see my queen's blood, got it?"

And the maid nods quickly before running off.

While you sit in the steaming tub, Edmund sits on the floor beside it, keeping you company. He should be doing work, but instead he's here, with you.

"I'm sorry about your sheets", you sigh and lean against the tub. "I know that they're expensive."

"Shut up about those fucking sheets now", Edmund groans and caresses your cheek. "I have enough to buy a hundred more sheets. I could buy the entire world, if I wanted to. A few sheets are nothing for me."

He leans over to kiss your wet forehead.

"Are you disgusted?" you ask carefully.

"A bit ... but not as much as I thought I'd be", Edmund replies with a grimace. "I'm more concerned about you, to be honest. Seeing you bleed, in any way, makes my heart sink in a disgusting way. I'm just angry I don't have anyone to blame for your pain."

You try to joke. "Blame my parents for making me a girl."

But he looks deadly serious. "No, never. They made you ... my wife and queen. I could never blame them for giving you this pain." He sighs and taking your hand. "If there is anything i can do to take the pain away, tell me. Teach me."

"Well, you actually had this right, the warm water. It helps."

"Anything else?"

"Sugar. Just for the hormones."

Edmund nods, thinking. He shouts for a maid to tell the kitchen staff to make cakes. He then turns back to you and smiles proudly. Maybe he isn't as bad as you thought?

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere doctor #female reader #yandere ocs #yandere king #yandere male #male yandere

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fuwushiguro · 8 months

Note

idk why all these people are here in ur ask me being horny smh they have no class anyways can you please give me a smut where toji is just hot af like always and daddy and yummy and juicy and delious 🤤🤤🤤🤤😋😋😋😋😋 thanks mama 🤭🤭

anything for you mamacita 💕 (not proofed) tw: fingering, daddy k!nk, age gap (reader is 20s toji is 40s), spanking, slapping

Toji loves coming home to see your cute lil face whenever he's had a long day.

Doesn't matter if you're fucking or not, he's happy to just sit you on his lap, play with your hair, and watch movies until you both fall asleep.

But that obviously isn't on your mind today.

Today, he can't believe the beautiful image he's been greeted by, splayed across his bed like a perfect present.

You're in a cute little crop top and thigh high socks.

No skirt.

No shorts.

No trousers.

Not even a pair of panties.

You're looking at him with wet, watery eyes as if you're so damn innocent you have no idea what you're doing. Rolling around like you're so naïve, like you don't see the bulge in his pants form instantly as his eyes rake over each and every inch of your longing body. How can you look so virtuous and so provocative at the same time?

Leaving your intimate area uncovered for him. His favourite area. Your perfect little pussy that he's spent countless hours touching, eating, teasing, fucking.

You didn't want to waste time, and he knew that. Otherwise you wouldn't look like this, now. You wouldn't be giving immediate access to him if you wanted to fool around and skirt about the issue at hand.

You've missed your daddy.

"Oh, sweetheart, look at you..." he almost whispers, his low gravelly voice rushing straight to your heat. "Been waiting for daddy all day, hm? Need 'im to play with you?" he's asking, despite already parting your legs to expose the mess you've gotten yourself in down there.

"Mhmm..." you mewl, biting your lip as you allow him to take full control. That's the best part about being with Toji. He's so mature, so experienced, he knows exactly what you want and need better than you. He knows how to touch, how to fuck, how to make you squirm and make a mess of yourself. You couldn't possibly leave him even if you wanted to, no one else could ever make you feel as good.

"Such a messy little cunt... been touchin' all day waiting for me? Hm?" he wonders.

"A little..."

"You know you aren't allowed to touch without permission." he delivers a wet slap to your throbbing clit. The contact makes you jolt, but looking at his aged scar curling up into a menacing smirk makes you smile too. "Naughty... shouldn't be enjoyin' getting touched like that." he tells you, slapping your pussy once more.

"C-Can't help it... love you t'much... love everything you do t'me..." you squirm, biting your lip again as you await his response.

He smirks again before looking down between your thighs. He spreads open your lips, coating his fingers slowly with your slick before removing them. He parts his fingers to see the webbing between them again and again. The spreading creating a tacky sound the rushes straight to his aching cock.

"All this for me, baby?" he smiles, honestly. "You really do love me."

"Mmm, mhmmn, I do... really love you, daddy."

"Or maybe..." he thinks, stuffing a singular finger into your tight warmth. "Maybe you just love daddy's cock." he considers, though the accusation scares you, it doesn't stop him from pumping his finger in and out of you. And it certainly doesn't stop you from moaning around it.

He watches as you throw your head back from the delicious stretch this one single finger is causing. Each and every pump of his finger driving you insane. You don't think you'd be acting like such a pornstar if you'd have relieved yourself at all today. But you wanted to be as good of a girl you could for your daddy. You wanted him to cure what ailed you, you know he makes you cum better than you do anyway.

"So fuckin' wet... hear how she's talkin' to me?" he asks, referring to the obnoxious squelch sounding around the room with each pummel of his finger. He wastes no time sliding in a second, jaw hanging low as everything becomes louder.

The squelching, your moans, his breath.

"It's 'cause she loves me, yeah?" he uses his free hand to spank your clit. "Answer me. Who does she belong to?"

"Y-You, daddy, p-promise." you manage to squeak out as he continues to press his fingers into your sweet spot.

"That's right, daddy's pretty little pussy. She's barely even yours, she's all mine." he reminds you. Your legs begin to shake as it all quickly becomes so intense. He tuts as your legs try to close, denying him of what he wants and of what you need. "Aht aht, none of that." he tells you. He presses his body weight into one of your thighs and uses his free hand to keep the other spread. Your sex on full display as he takes a moment to swipe his heavy fingers over your clit for a moment before shoving his fingers in deeply once again.

"S'too much! Too much, d-daddy! C-Can't!" you try to argue, but it's futile.

"Hey." he shoves your crop top upwards, revealing your soft, round tits. He doesn't take any time to admire them. Instead, he slaps them, but without any real force behind it. "I know best. I know what's too much, this ain't too much."

"It is..." you sniff, tears spilling from your eyes.

"Brat." he leans forward, pinching your cheeks so that your lips pucker. He kisses you deeply as he keeps fingering you. You melt into it, your body becoming more and more tense with each connection with that special spot inside of you. You're snapped back to your senses when you feel his heavy palm connect with your face. "Don't argue with daddy. It's not too much, baby. I can feel how tight you are. Gonna cum f'me, aren'tcha?"

"Mhmm..." you nod, dumbly.

"Go on, then." he insists. "Cum on daddy's fingers."

He pushes your legs apart once again to expose your cunt fully, despite him not looking. His lips wrap around one of your exposed nipples, sucking harshly in hopes of tipping you over that tantilising edge.

And it does.

He pulls away to get a front row seat of how your pussy gushes for him. Spurts and spurts of clear liquid dousing you both as well as the sheets beneath you. His fingers run frantically back and forth over your puffy clit, prolonging your orgasm further.

You've bitten your lip raw, and he can see how glittery and wet your eyes are as you cum for him. He loves seeing you like this, his perfect fucked out mess.

"What do you say?" he asks you.

"T-Thank you daddy, I love you. S-So much." you pant, chest heaving.

"I love you too, baby." he assures you. You watch as he frees his cock, pumping it a few times before lining it up with your overstimulated hole. "Time to make daddy feel good, now, okay? Be a good little girl and take daddy's cock."

#toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji smut #daddy toji #tw daddy kink #tw age gap #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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fvsm4x · 3 months

Text

☆ LU(S)T ; GETO SUGURU

SUMMARY: The curse Geto swallowed had different Side effects.

— C.W: feral! Geto Suguru x sick! female reader , sick-sex , p in v , overstimulation , creampie , unprotected , masturbation, lots of cum , nipple play/sucking , reader is sick , multiple orgasm , nsfw , 18+ only , MDNI , rough , multiple rounds , passing out , somnophilia , oral (m receicing) , BJ , sex pollen , thight fuck , Not proofread!!

— WORD COUNT: 2.7k

— A/N: I think I forgot how to write smut..

taglist: @froufrousnowman @starlightanyaaa @101strawberries101 @dazaisfavgf @the-lazy-perfectionist @w3luvdream

Hah~

Haa..

Geto slowly woke up, feeling a burning sensation throughout his body. He was breathing heavily and his whole body was twitching. His eyes were wide open and his pupils were dilated. Sweat was dripping from his face, and he absentmindedly ran his hand through his hair, unintentionally making it messy.

Feeling a strong twitch, he couldn't resist moving his hand down to his pants. The moment his hand touched his excited dick, a spontaneous moan escaped him,

„S-so hot,“ he gasped, his hand exploring above his pants. Each breath became intense, and his body warmed up, making him feel like he would melt away.

Without thinking twice, he freed himself, focusing on the sight in front of him. The red tip, shiny with pre-cum, throbbed even without touching it.

Right away, he grabbed his cock, moving his hand up and down the stiff length. More pre-cum dripped down, making it smoother as he continued gliding his hand along his hardness, each stroke making him whimper.

Why is he feeling so hot? What could be causing this sudden change in his body temperature? It's unlike anything he's ever experienced before. Could it be a result of the curse he consumed earlier? Or perhaps it's just a surge of hormones typical for a teenager? But no, that doesn't seem right. This sensation is completely new to him. There must be some underlying cause that's making him feel this way.

But it felt so good.

„Hah~“

Overwhelmed by an intense wave of pleasure, he tightened his grip, and a powerful climax surged through him. It felt more intense than anything he had experienced before. A lot came out, and he couldn't believe how much. His hand was full of it,

But he barely touched it, how come so much came out..

Glancing down at himself, he noticed his dick remained firm despite having already climaxed. He couldn't fathom why it wasn't settling down after the initial release.

He raised himself up, taking a seat at the edge of his bed. His hands rediscovered his arousal, and he began squeezing it in a way that pleased him, focusing on the tip and indulging in a self-massage.

Suddenly, you popped into his mind, catching him off guard. He gasped at the mere thought of you, imagining how you could make his dick react even more intensely, adding a delightful fuzziness to the sensations he was experiencing.

Why was he thinking of you!? He scolded himself for entertaining such thoughts about his innocent classmate. "Y/n..." he whimpered, torn between conflicting desires. Yet, perplexingly, nothing was happening down there – no pre-cum, nothing.

He wondered if the lack of stimulation was the issue. After all, he had always used his hand. Frustration set in as he questioned why it wasn't working now. Perhaps he needed different forms of stimulation, something beyond the usual hand maneuvers.

Your image flashed in his mind – no, he thought, he shouldn't be doing this. You're sick right now, he can‘t do it- at least not while you‘re sick. Despite knowing he shouldn't, he couldn't halt the persistent thoughts.

You were lying in bed, your face tinged with a rosy hue, beads of sweat trickling down your forehead. Your slightly open mouth allowed for better breathing through your nose.

Standing before you, Geto had his dick out, fixated on your flushed countenance. He raised his shirt with his teeth, revealing his toned torso. One hand skillfully moved up and down his dick, each motion making him moan, while the other hand sensually massaged his balls.

His hand moved rapidly, thrusting into the makeshift opening created by his fist. Eyes shut, he emitted soft whimpers, lost in the intense rhythm. Pre-cum dripped steadily onto the floor, wetting his arousal with every passing second due to the increasing release.

He forcefully thrusted into his fist until his cock twitched, climaxing with his release. His cum spurted onto your sleeping face, leaving it coated in white. Geto withdrew his hand from his dick, his expression dazed and intoxicated.

However, his arousal showed no signs of calming down. The sight of his cum on your face only heightened his arousal, making him even harder. A dizzying sensation enveloped him.

"Just... a little more," he whispered, his gaze dropping to your chest covered by a t-shirt.

Without hesitation, he moved to your bed, positioning himself above you and gently adjusting your position so that you lay on your back.

Geto observed your face, now adorned with his release. He raised his hand, wiping away the cum from your cheeks. Then, he pushed his cum-covered thumb into your mouth, stuffing it inside.

However, there was no reaction from you; you remained peacefully asleep, unaffected by the intimate act.

Geto uncovered your body by removing the blanket, then pushed your t-shirt up, exposing your breasts. A brief shiver passed through your body before settling. He fixed his gaze on your exposed nipples, open to the cool air, and proceeded to grab a handful of your breast, delicately massaging the soft flesh.

In response, your face flushed to a deeper shade of red, and your eyebrows furrowed, yet you remained peacefully asleep, unaffected by the intimate touch.

Geto's free hand, rough yet purposeful, gently encouraged your thighs to draw together, forming a warm cradle for his dick. With measured anticipation, he carefully slid his dick in between them. An audible moan escaped his lips as the warmth and pressure of your thighs enveloped him,

His lips found your neck, trailing a path of fiery kisses along your sensitive flesh. He left a trail of soft, sensual nips and licks as he thrust into your thighs. His mouth sought every inch of your skin, hungry for your taste. His tongue left a trail of wet warmth against your neck, your collarbone, and down to the swell of your breast.

Geto‘s mouth enveloped your breast, his lips creating a soft seal around your sensitive nipple. His tongue moved in slow, sensuous circles, teasing and tantalizing you. He varied the pressure, alternating between gentle suckling and more insistent pulls. His warm, wet mouth and his tongue's delicate caresses sent waves of pleasure rippling through you.

Geto's grip on your thighs tightened as the anticipation of climax surged through him. His gaze shifted downward, locking onto the area between your thighs where his dick lay. He observed the flushed tip, its vibrant redness and noticeable swelling signaling the impending release. The temperature seemed to rise, the heat emanating from his arousal.

In an explosive moment, his climax erupted, and cum spurted onto your stomach. An audible moan escaped him, echoing in the room. He released your thighs, and they fell on either side of him. As he looked up, his eyes twitched, and the blush on his face intensified, capturing the raw and unfiltered intensity of the encounter.

He took hold of his dick once more, moving it up and down to expel the remaining traces of his release. The expelled cum splattered onto your stomach, a tangible result of his intimate moment. As he exhaled, realizing no more was forthcoming, his arousal remained persistently hard in his hand.

Despite the awareness that his actions were morally questionable, he found himself unable to resist the irresistible pleasure. The internal struggle heightened as he grappled with the conflicting desire to continue. The intensity was becoming overwhelming, even for him, yet the compulsion persisted.

With a hesitant yet deliberate movement, he couldn't resist removing your shorts. His eyes fell upon your panties, revealing a larger wet patch at the center,

Geto's fingers touched the damp patch on your panties. As he traced the wetness, conflicting emotions stirred within him.

With a gentle touch, he set aside the fabric, coming into direct contact with your exposed cunt. His fingers delicately traced through your folds, gathering the moisture that trickled down.

„I can‘t t-take it anymore..“he whispered,“please bear with me y-y/n..“

He gently inserted a single finger, emitting a low groan at the exquisite tightness and wetness enveloping him. Suddenly, you stirred, slowly opening your eyes to the surroundings. Your gaze met Geto, seated in front of you, with his dick poised above your quivering entrance.

In a half-asleep murmur, you questioned, "W-what are you doing?" Without warning, he withdrew his finger, swiftly replacing it with his big fat cock, prompting a loud moan from you. Your entire body convulsed as he entered you, stretching and eliciting tears to roll down your eyes.

As Geto continued to move inside you, his other hand slid down to your sensitive clit. He began to rub it, increasing the friction. Your already tight walls clenched around his throbbing length, making it challenging to move.

Moaning in response, you struggled to form coherent sentences as he thrust forcefully. "W-what..." your voice trailed off, hindered by the intensity of his movements.

"I was... hah! I'm sick, Sugu," you managed to moan, your voice strained from a sore throat. Your hands instinctively sought refuge on his back, scratching into the fabric.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." he muttered into your neck, his relentless thrusts continuing. "I feel like I'm gonna melt," he moaned loudly,“feels so good inside of you..“

You whimpered, feeling the tight clenching of your walls against his dick, your breasts responding to his thrusts with a rhythmic sway. Reacting to the motion, you let go of his back and cupped your breasts, preventing them from moving too much.

"W-what are you doing here..." you managed to utter a few words amidst the overwhelming sensations. His attention shifted to your clit, intensifying the rubbing with a fervor that sent shivers through your body.

"I-I'm gonna cum," he moaned, the intensity building as he approached the edge. The heat and tightness of your walls enveloped him, creating a dizzying sensation. The pleasure was overwhelming, and unable to resist, he withdrew just in time to release his climax inside you.

As he pulled his dick out, the cum he left inside you spilled onto the bed sheets. You breathed heavily, your arms falling to each side of you as you sought to regain consciousness amidst the lingering sensations

"W-what are you doing..." you managed to say before your voice faltered.

"I don't know... you smell so good," he spoke, pushing his face into your neck, inhaling your scent. It was evident he wasn't thinking straight.

Panting, you felt a sensation against your clit, eliciting a whimper in response. Despite the intensity, he was still hard as a rock.

"What‘s... hic going on?" you managed to ask, but your inquiry was met with silence. Instead, he lifted you, gently placing you on his lap, your stomach now in direct contact with his twitching dick.

"I'm sorry... 'm sorry..." he whispered, his apology trailing off as he pressed his head into the swell of your breast.

"W-wait, Sugu... my cold is gonna get worse if we continue," you managed to express, but he began lifting you, positioning his arousal above your entrance.

"You'll be fine," he muttered, his eyes rolling back as he made contact with your pulsating opening.

"Wait, I'm s-still sensi- Ah!" you moaned, your eyes rolling back, a moan escaping your lips as Geto thrust into you.

Your walls enveloped his entire dick, constricting around him, making movement challenging. The tip of his cock brushed against your walls, leaving traces of pre-cum that dripped from his tip and painted your walls white.

With forceful thrusts, he penetrated deeply, each movement bringing your clit into contact with his pelvis. The stimulation intensified, making you even tighter than before

Geto groaned, his hands firmly gripping your hips as he guided you up and down his arousal. Drool escaped your mouth as his tip repeatedly made contact with your cervix, hitting your G-spot over and over again.

Feeling him twitch inside you, he eventually released his seed, painting your walls white. You went limp against him, only to be scooped up and pressed against a wall.

"W-wait, how much lon-nger..." you whispered, pushing yourself up against the wall, closing your eyes as he entered you again.

„A little m-more I think.“

Oh how wrong he was.

"Sugu! I can't take it anymore," you moaned, as he continued thrusting relentlessly, 40 minutes into the intense encounter. You lay on your bed with your head buried in the pillow and your hips raised, while he thrusted relentlessly into you.

Your voice quivered as you added, "You're driving me crazy!" The bed sheets were soaked, making it hard to distinguish where your body ended and his began.

"T-This is the last time... Just a little more," he replied, echoing the same promise he made earlier. He bit into your shoulder as you cried into your pillow, the sensation adding to the charged atmosphere.

You could feel the distinct outline of his dick inside you, stretching and reaching your most sensitive point, making you moan loud.

"T-too much..." you whined, gripping the bed sheets until he lifted you again, pressing you into the wall.

"Sugu, I can't, it's too b-big... Ah! So deep..." you moaned, his mouth finding your nipples, sucking on them as he continued thrusting into you.

"Stop... I'm gonna cum..." you pleaded, your hands around his neck.

"Let's cum together..." he replied, his eyes rolling back as he pressed his hand into your stomach, feeling the rhythmic movement inside you.

As things heated up, you felt a warm, tingling sensation building up from deep within. The pleasure spread, creating a growing, electric feeling that intensified with every passing moment. Your breaths quickened, showing the rising excitement.

In the moments right before release, a surge of heat took over, making the pleasure almost too much to handle. Your muscles tensed, and a wave of intense pleasure washed over you, reaching its peak in a powerful climax.

Geto's movements became more erratic, driven by the building pressure of release. The rhythmic thrusts escalated until he reached the brink, a low groan escaping him. In the moment of release, a surge of pleasure coursed through him, his body convulsing with the powerful intensity of orgasm.

With a final, deep thrust, he found his own peak, his essence spilling into the already heated connection.

Your legs gave out, and you ended up on your knees in front of him.

"Huh, what are you d-doing..." Geto whispered, his eyes fixed on you kneeling in front of his dick that was covered in your and his cum,

"M-my back has no strength left... and my lower part is throbbing s-so much..." you muttered, expressing your exhaustion. Despite this, as his dick hardened again and brushed against your cheek,

Geto took his hardened arousal into his hand, aiming it toward your lips and prompting you to kiss his angry red tip.

"P-please, suck me off... it will be over after," he muttered, his other hand finding its place on your head, pushing your hair out of the way.

You nodded your head, grabbing onto his arousal and slowly starting to lick it.

You maintained a steady rhythm, your lips creating a tight seal around his arousal. The warmth and wetness of your mouth intensified the sensations, and your tongue skillfully danced along his length.

As you continued, the intensity heightened. Your movements became more deliberate, and the pleasure on Geto's face was palpable. His grip on your head tightened, a mixture of desire and urgency in his touch.

"That's it, just like that," he whispered, the husky tone of his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Take it deeper. You know how much you enjoy pleasing me."

The sensations intensified as you found a rhythm that seemed to drive him to the edge. "You're so good at this," he groaned, his words laced with desire.

Geto's grip tightened as he approached the pinnacle. "I'm close," he gasped, his hips involuntarily thrusting forward. The husky promise of release hung in the air as your skilled movements brought him to the edge.

With a guttural moan, Geto reached the peak of pleasure, releasing into your mouth. You continued your rhythmic motions even as Geto's arousal softened. The room was filled with a lingering heat, the shared satisfaction palpable in the air. However, as the aftermath settled, fatigue took over.

Your body, exhausted from the passionate exchange, gave in to the sensations. Gradually, you found yourself leaning against Geto, your breathing slowing down, as you passed out.

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atinycafe · 6 months

Text

San traces gentle patterns on the exposed part of your waist, his gaze fixed on the subtle shift of your breathing. With your back turned to him, he can't see your face, but he's certain you're fast asleep. If you were awake, he wouldn't dare to touch you. Arranged marriages aren't uncommon, especially among royal families. They serve to solidify bonds, bringing prosperity and peace to kingdoms, but not necessarily to the individuals involved - the groom and the bride.

It wouldn't be truthful to say that you two love each other or even that you are friends. Even after two years of marriage, your professionalism remains the primary barrier. Since childhood, you've been immersed in rigorous studies to prepare for your role as the empress of the nation. Your life was predetermined long before you were born. Hence, San comprehends completely why you maintain such a cold demeanor toward him.

But, he can't help but yearn for you. His thoughts constantly gravitate toward you, in a way that should be ordinary for a husband but not in your circumstances. He shouldn't love you, but you're making it incredibly difficult for him. Your conduct with those around you, the way you carry yourself, and the genuine kindness you extend, even to those beneath your station, it all makes it harder for him. He sees how you pay attention to your advisors during crucial meetings, noticing the subtle furrowing of your brows when issues with the crops or markets are brought up. Your effortless thoughtfulness is simply captivating; how could he not fall for you?

San places a quivering hand on your hair, toying with a curl between his fingers. He leans in to plant a tender kiss on it, but as you stir slightly, he withdraws his hand abruptly, pretending to be asleep, shutting his eyes tight.

You turn, still in your slumber, but San doesn't open his eyes. He knows you'll wake soon, as the sun begins to filter through the balcony, altering the hues of the sky. You emit a soft murmur, and San senses your eyes opening as you let out a gentle gasp. He feels you shift away slightly, understandable since your noses were nearly touching. San remains motionless, his eyes closed, his breath held.

He remains that way for several minutes until he feels you sit up on the bed. You sigh and stay put. San softly opens his eyes, stealing a glance at your profile. Your gaze is fixed on the horizon, the soft morning light accentuating the curve of your cheek.

"I need to get pregnant," you murmur softly, a tender hand caressing your belly, your eyes glazing over, lost in thought as usual.

"What?" San blurts out, rising to his knees, his eyes wide. "What did you just say?"

You turn to him, embarrassment flushing your face. You open your mouth, then close it, resembling a fish caught off guard. You didn't expect him to be awake this early. "No—I—I just—"

"I'll give you a son," he interrupts, his voice trembling, his hand running through his hair. "If you let me, I'll give you anything." His tone carries a hint of desperation. He had refrained from any physical contact since the beginning of your marriage. It would have created more distance between you, rather than bringing you closer. He didn't want your first night together to be the result of obligations. That would have been too cruel for his heart—feeling you so close, yet your heart so far away. No.

Your face flushes, and the overwhelming urge to conceal yourself becomes unbearable. You shake your head, swiftly discarding the golden covers from your body. "You must have misheard me," you hastily interject, planting your bare soles on the chilly floor. Before you can rise from the bed, San seizes your forearm and gently guides you back, prompting an unqueenly gasp to escape your lips.

He remains silent as he caresses your hairline with a tender hand, peering at you beneath his long lashes. Both of you linger in silence for a moment, locking gazes. The room is so quiet that you can almost discern the rhythmic thumping of his heart, although you can only feel it through the thin fabric of your nightgown.

"I like you," he murmurs into the void. You part your lips to reply, but he doesn't allow you to continue. "I don't know you, but I like you. I would say I love you, but I don't want to push you. So I'll settle for 'I like you.'" He concludes, his lips pressed together in an anxious frown.

You remain silent for a while, simply gazing at him, your eyelashes fluttering. San senses that he might be on the verge of being sick, until you break into a faint smile. Your hands find their way to his face, both of them cradling his cheeks, as your thumbs stroke gently.

"I don't… I don't know you," you mumble, and it's the truth. You hadn't taken the effort to learn more about him beyond the superficial information an empress should possess about her emperor, essential for ruling over a country by his side. "But I can learn. I can try."

Your voice barely rises above a whisper, and you both chuckle like children discovering something shiny.

He leans down over your body, planting a gentle kiss on the gold earring adorning your left ear and then another at the juncture of your ear and neck. He lingers for a few moments, inhaling your natural scent as he feels you shudder at the touch of his lips against your skin. A smirk tugs at his lips before he swiftly jumps out of bed, leaving you alone in the opulent chamber. You hear him exuberantly cheering with the knights outside the door, and you can't help but smile at his youthful enthusiasm. He's making a complete fool of himself, and you turn in the bed, burying your face in his pillow, releasing your own muffled scream of excitement, your feet kicking up in the air. You find yourself laughing, carried away by the rush of adrenaline.

Suddenly, someone clears their throat from behind you. You turn to find the rotation of maids, poised and ready for your daily morning routine. Flustered, you promptly compose yourself, rising to sit and smoothing down your hair. The youngest maids attempt to stifle their laughter behind their sleeves, while you attempt not to perish from embarrassment.

masterlist | taglist in comments

#ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #ateez fluff #ateez soft hours #ateez soft thoughts #san x reader #san imagines #san scenarios #san headcanons #san reactions #san fluff #x poc reader #kpop x poc reader

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miniimight · 7 months

Note

Hellooo! Could you please write for the boys where the reader is sick but doesn't tell them bcs she doesn't wanna bother them?? I love your your blog sm 💙💙

HIDING YOUR SICKNESS ! reader doesn't wanna bother her boyfriend

with izuku, bakugo, rody + fem!reader (pro hero era)

notes thanks for the request anon !!

you: hey i don't think i can make our date tonight... i'm sorry, something came up

he frowned when he got the text. he pinched the bridge of his nose and his overthinking kicked in. you'd been distancing yourself a lot recently... between you spending all your time at someone else's place, having to postpone dates, and his hero work, you barely got to see each other.

he was worried. he pressed the call button and waited for you to pick up.

IZUKU

"hello? y/n?"

you folded from the concern in his voice. he was always going to be worried about you, no matter what you tried to do.

"izuku..." you rasped and you could tell he was taken aback.

"what's wrong, honey?" he said softly. "you don't sound too good..."

you bit your lip. oh, what the hell. he was going to find out anyway. "i'm just a little sick, that's all. i can handle—"

"sick?!" izuku exclaimed and you shied away from his volume. "my love, you should have told me."

"no, it's really okay—"

"how long have you felt this way? is this why you've been postponing our dates? where are you right now?" he ignored your protests and rambled on with more questions for a bit. you weakly answered them all.

"okay, sweetheart, i'm on my way." you could hear him huffing as you assumed he leapt across rooftops. "stay on call..."

a burden was lifted off your shoulders, and the relief made you fall asleep right then and there.

later—though how much later, you didn't know—you blinked the sleep out of your eyes. groaning, you stretched your arms and propped your body up with your elbows.

"oh, you're awake. lay down, love."

you tuned into izuku's voice, squinting through your daze. he was sitting at your bedside, a wet rag in his hand. he shushed you when you tried to ask him all your questions, gently laying the rag across your forehead and kissing your heated cheek.

"you had a fever, honey." izuku hummed, pulling the chair closer to the bed and leaning over the side. "you shouldn't have been under all those stuffy blankets."

you frowned and looked around. the windows were open, the curtains flowing as fresh air filtered in. it was true, you did feel a little less suffocated.

you pursed your lips, feeling guilty. "i'm sorry."

he was absolutely bewildered. "what could you possibly be sorry for?"

you sniffed, rubbing your eyes. "you were at work, right? and..."

izuku softened, stroking your temples with understanding. "it's never an issue for me to take care of you, love. don't be sad. just relax and let me handle everything, okay? i'm here now, to take care of you."

BAKUGO

"where are you and why have you been avoiding my calls?"

you pressed your lips into a thin line. straight to the point, as usual. "i'm... i'm staying at a friend's for the time being." you tried to speak evenly, without any tiredness.

you heard bakugo sigh deeply. "what's the matter, baby? and don't think about hidin' anything from me."

you groaned internally, letting your head drop against the mattress. you mumbled.

"what was that?"

you flared up, heat overwhelming your body. "i'm sick! okay?! i'm so sick right now."

he didn't respond.

you sighed. "i didn't want you to catch anything or worry about it. i can handle it and i'll be back in no time."

he scoffed. "fuck that. i'm coming to get you."

"kat, really—?!"

"yes, really!" you heard faint explosions in the background. "seriously, thinking you can recover on your own when you can't even speak properly." he chuckled.

you wanted to retort, but your throat burned. hmph, you thought. you let yourself drift asleep, feeling comforted.

later, you woke up in his bed to the sound of clanking pots in the kitchen. brows furrowed, you groaned as you stretched, your body buzzing after you let yourself drop into the plush mattress once more.

bakugo peeked into the room. "you're up. good. you need to eat." with an apron on, he placed an assortment of dishes in front of you; soup, fruits, and some cough drops for later.

you sat up a little, startled when his hand pressed against your forehead.

"you have a fever." he shook his head, disappointed. "you probably made it a little worse, isolating yourself under all those sheets. you were overheated when i got you."

you pouted, taking a sip of water.

he craned his neck to meet your eyes, thinking you'd be relieved being home and in his care. you clearly had something on your mind. "baby..." he held your hand. "jus' tell me what's on your mind."

you met his eyes briefly before looking away. "i... didn't want you to miss work for this."

"this matters more than paperwork." he rolled his eyes, a soft smile on his face. he squeezed your hands. "just eat up and rest up. i'll handle everything else."

RODY

"y/n?"

"nope!" his little sister, lala, chirped. "it's me!"

during his last layover, he hadn't been getting much of a response from you. he trusted you with everything, but he was worried. now that he was back in otheon, he was ready to figure out what the hell was going on.

he chuckled at his sister. you must've given her your phone to play her favorite game. "hey, lala. where's y/n, do you know?"

"she's sleeping now." rody could hear her breathing as she pattered over to where he assumed you were laying down. "sleeping like a log."

"yeah?" rody responded, deep in thought. it wasn't like you to sleep while looking after his siblings, so he knew something was wrong. "what was she doing before she fell asleep?"

"uhhh... she made lunch for us?" lala sniffed. "i feel bad, though."

rody's eyebrows creased, tugging a suitcase behind him as he unconsciously walked faster. "why's that?"

"she's got a mask on, and she doesn't want us too close to her..." lala sighed. "and she's burning up."

rody put the pieces together. he raced to the carpark and zoomed on home, bursting through the door.

the loud noise startled you out of your slumber, sitting upright. the abrupt motion made you dizzy and you groaned. lala pat your shoulder, concerned.

rody dropped his suitcase to the ground, kneeling at your side. slipping off his gloves, he pressed his hand to the side of your neck.

"seriously, babe, you should've told me when you started feeling off." he frowned, bustling about to grab you the things you needed. "i could've left any time."

your eyes were glassy when you looked at him, and he felt his heart twisting. "m'sorry," you mumbled from behind the mask. "i didn't want to bother you..."

he scoffed and pulled the mask off your face, squishing your cheeks. he looked you square in the eye. though he was scolding you, he was so soft and gently. "you never bother me. all i think about is you, lala, and roro. i want to know everything you're feeling, no matter what."

you smiled, looking lopsided as your face was still in his hands. "okay."

he grinned and kissed you.

"ugh!" you recoiled, scooching away from him. "rody! you'll get sick!"

he crossed his arms, smiling. "and? we can be in that boat together."

you rolled your eyes. "oh my god."

"aw, don't be like that, baby." rody cuddled up next to you, peppering you with affection. "come on, let me take care of you."

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adventuringblind · 7 months

Text

Attitude

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genre: smut 😈

Request: Yes. No comment.

Summary: Charles is pent up and needs to do something with it. The reader needs Max to come help her with him.

Warnings: spanking, choking, subspace, lots of dirty talk, praise, degradation, anal, oral (both receiving), daddy kink

Notes: a lestappen sandwich?!

Masterlist

If you looked at the trio, the first words in your head would be ridiculous. It's unconventional. It shouldn't work. All the dumb stuff that people say that only makes all three of them smile and laugh about it later.

It works for them. They all love each other. Their dynamic is not anyone else's business. The more interesting part is how they all fit together in their own little world.

Max is the most outgoing and protective. He's aggressive, but he's also incredibly sweet. She blames his daddy issues for his want (need?) to be in control of things. This also goes for sex. He's good at it, too. He just has a way of working tactically that makes her shiver at the thought.

On the opposite side, she is quiet and gentle. Christian lets her follow Max around like a lost puppy some days if he's in a mood. Why? Mad Max can't make an appearance if she's holding his hand. Don't get her wrong, she would bitch slap somebody if she needed too. But for the most part, she'll simply do as told.

Then there's Charles. He is the lovely gray area between them. The Monegasque isn't assertive for himself, but if it comes to the other two, then he's willing to commit war crimes (at least that's how it feels). He's Max's source of understanding with driving, and he takes care of the female when people are asking too much of her.

He is also a switch, interestingly enough. He will, and has, tired every role. Some days, he prefers to tag team her with Max, others he prefers to just take what Max gives. It depends on his mood, and it always makes for interesting nightly (all times of day, really) activities.

One thing about Charles is that he has separation anxiety. If her and Max are away from him for too long, then his temper starts to flair. Not in a bad way, his mind just wanders to every possibility of what could go wrong.

The difference is, when she's the one that gone Max can take of him. The Dutch can get him to subdrop in thirty seconds (give or take). It makes him feel better, makes him forget. It's almost like a reset button.

When Max is gone, it's much harder. She's tried. She's tried too hard to get him to drop. Make an attempt at playing into Max's usual role. But she can't figure it out for the life of her. Whether she's too gentle or doesn't say the right things, she has no idea.

Max and Charles have told her ample times that it's not her responsibility. Yet the little voice in her head screams at her to make it better.

That's probably the reason she's letting Charles bruise her.

Max had to fly back to England during the winter break for a couple of weeks. Charles, as per usual, was getting frustrated by day three of no Max. She cuddled him, made him food, and watched movies. She once again tried to help him sexually, but the pent-up anxiety and frustration just kept coming, and she was starting to lose faith in herself.

Halfway through the second week, she'd called Max half sobbing. She felt clueless on what to do. Not even Lando, with all of his anxiety soothing tactics, were helping. He'd reassured her it would work out fine, that Charles says things when he's anxious, but none of it is true (the biggest being Max is going to die).

Then, she decided to switch tactics. Sue called Christian and pleaded with him to send Max home early because both her and Charles are sick (ly in need of his sexual assistance). Christian relented cause he owed her a favor anyway, and Max was to be home late that evening.

What she was not expecting was for Charles to slam her against the wall. It took her off guard when he started begging to use her body. She complied, offering herself up like a Christmas present with a bow on top for him to unwrap. It's nothing new for her. Being manhandled and fucked into next year.

But this is Charles. Her gentle Charles. Eyes dilated with lust and hands litterally ripping her clothes off. Her Charles that takes at least ten minutes to communicate, getting straight into it. Charles who lays light kisses to her most sensitive areas, now biting and sucking like he's a starving vampire.

In reality, this was not her plan. Max was going to come home and give Charles what he actually needs that she can't provide.

"Fuck chéri, you really are a slut." He slaps her clit and it drags a whine out of her. "A dirty whore, gonna let me use you? Hmm?"

She nods her head vigorously. Her head felt foggy a few minutes ago, but now she's just gone. Mind desperate to please and give what he needs. Let him take every piece of her that he so desires.

First, he takes her mouth. Her head hanging upsidedown off the bed. His cock hitting the back of her throat consistently, angrily. She's choking, crying, and finding it difficult to breathe. He still took care of keeping her hands on him so she could tap out, but she wasn't going to. Her mind repeats the same words over and over again.

Finally, his hips stutter, and he's trying to keep himself upright. It's sticky down the back of her throat, but she could care less. Charles is moaning and panting, and it satisfies that need in her head to please him.

But it's not enough. She doesn't get time to recover. Charles drags her by the knees back onto the bed fully. He pins her waist down with one hand and shoves her legs open with the other. A sharp stinging sensation is laid to the insides of her thighs. She screams in surprise but he doesn't relent.

"Such a good toy. Are you going to be a good slut for me and and let me spank you?" She cries as her thighs touch when she rolls over for him. She whines out a little 'yes sir' and braces for his hand to meet her skin.

"Count and say thank you."

Something in her mind snaps. Is she being punished? Or is she being used? Cause in her mind those are two different thing.

Slap.

"One... thank you sir."

He's not like Max at all. Her head is too fuzzy to really remember things, but she's certain Max always clarifies.

Slap.

"Two... thank you sir."

She's not sure she's going to make it through however many he plans on. So she just takes it.

Slap.

"Ten... thank you sir."

She aches in every are. She wants to please. She needs to please. It is her purpose.

Slap.

"Sixteen... thank you sir."

Her words are slurred. She can't talk. Her mouth feels impossibly dry. Her tears have soaked into the sheets beneath her.

She sobs as Charles flips her again. There is a small part of her that thinks if he keeps manhandling her like this, she might finish without doing anything else. It's not going to take much with how close she is already.

Once again, her legs are spread. His hands grip her waist. Then he sheaths himself inside of her. There is no pause, simply pace. It's relentless and has her wailing.

Then nothing.

It's like time freezes. There is no movement. Charles has even stopped breathing.

She pulls her eyes open. The sight of Max, his grip halting every movement Charles can make, meets her eyes like he's an angel sent to fix this.

"Did you really think you could dom our girl, Charlie? You can't even take care of yourself." Max forces Charles to really look at her. The damage he'd done to her body as clear as day. "Do you see what you've done? What were you trying to achieve here?"

She can actively feel Charles melting. She can see his eyes getting glassy. They probably match now. If she were coherent, she would be upset that Max managed to make him drop with a couple of sentences. For now, she'll stick to not thinking and writhing around in pain.

She suddenly feels empty without Charles in her. Max had pulled him out of her. "Knees. On the floor. Hands behind your back." Max's demanding tone makes her feel all warm and fuzzy.

His calloused fingers dance across her beat thighs. She hisses at the sting but doesn't flinch away. "Who do you need right now, schat? Do you want me to be sir and keep being rough? Do you want me to be daddy and give you something soft?"

She feels stupid just staring at him in awe. Her mind is not able to fathom how good-looking he is. She curses her brain. She thought the same thing as Charles was using her for everything she had.

"Come on love. I need you to stay with me. Need you to tell me your colors."

"Green, Daddy. Mm green. I tried to help..." it comes out a slurred mumble, and she hopes he can understand her.

"Daddy's gonna take care of you now, yeah? Have you cum yet?" She shakes her head no and goes back memorizing his face.

Max moves away from her, and she whines at the loss of contact. She can only watch as Max gets a hold of Charles' thick brown locks. The Monegasque moans at the force.

Max brings him to his feet and again forces his gaze onto her. "She hasn't even finished yet, Charles. If you want me to fuck you out of this mood then you're going to fix your mess first."

She's shocked at how easily Max maneuvers Charles into position. There is no hesitation for Max to shove his tongue into her core.

Fuck does she whine. She moans. She writhes. She wails as his tongue swirls around her clit.

Her hands find his hair, which only amplifies his moans. Max is behind him, working him open for whatever he has planned. She assumes, based on the level of moans and pants, that Max is touching his prostate in very clinical ways.

Finally, she's asking for it. Begging for her release that she has waited for, been used for.

"Cum for me. Let Charles taste all of you."

The pleasure she'd been dipping her toes in is now swallowing her whole. Her body spasms and her muscles contract. Charles has to keep her knees apart so her can help elongate her high.

She can barely breathe when her body settles. Sweat drips down her face along with another set of tears. Charles also lies flat, staring up at her like a puppy who's gotten in trouble. Which isn't to far from the truth, she thinks.

"Colors?"

A course of breathy "green" echoes through the room. Max then moves to the side of her. He kisses her skin. He tells her how good she is. Then he immediately goes back to situating their bodies.

"Okay, Charlie, I'm going to give you what you want. I'm going to fix this attitude problem." They end up in a position that is less fun for Charles, easy for her (despite the weight at times) and very fun for Max.

Every movment brings Charles more stimulation. Max moves his hips back and forth. In and out of both simultaneously. He is taking Max from behind while she lets him stretch her once again.

She's already to far gone to really notice everything that's happening. However. Charles is looking at her like she's the most amazing creature he's ever beheld.

"Apoligize to her, and maybe I'll let you move faster."

Charles begins dripping in apologies. "I'm so sorry, amour. I wasn't being careful. Just wanted to feel good. Please- fuck- I'm so sorry."

"S'okay, Charlie." Is what she manages. Though she's sure it isn't coherent.

Max picks up the speed. This time, praising them both. It's dirty and relentless. The words leaving his mouth are filthy to most, but to her, they create a sense of pride.

"My good sluts. Taking what I give you."

Charles is begging for it. She would be too if Max hadn't told her she didn't have to ask. To which she realizes it's probably not helping the Monegasque to have cum around him multiple times now.

Finally, Max relents. Charles collapses into a writhing spasming mess. Max's hands are all over his body, dragging the high out as much as he can.

Then they are curled up together. No sexual intent, just cuddles. Max In between the two, stroking hair and backs.

He didn't want to try and bathe them or start icing mucles and bruises so far into the head space. So he settles for kisses and sweet words instead.

"Mm sorry for being to hot headed."

"You don't have to be sorry for your emotions, Charles. But you also need to be in a good headspace if you're going to dom like that." Max turns and kisses his cheek. "I am glad your feeling better."

Max glances the other direction when he hears light snores coming from the female.

"Do you think she'll still trust me?"

"If she didn't trust you, then she wouldn't have continued. Just make nit to try that again for a while. I didn't think you had it in you to try that."

"I didn't either, to be honest."

"Next time, maybe I'll let you do that to me." Max laughs, mostly because he knows it would take a lot to get him to the point of wanting that.

Charles simply gives him a terrible wink as if to signify that he'll be holding him to that.

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sillygreenrat · 2 months

Text

Introducing The Smiling Critters!!! This isn't entirely an AU persay but i like to call these guys the 'Better Bigger Bodies'. Toys that are ACTUALLY SENTIENT without the need for child testing and experimentation! Hurray!!! Might draw more of the B3's eventually but for now u get the sillies bc i LOVE them...

more spammy headcanon info under the cut!

DogDay: -he/they (demiboy) -ageless (mentally 21) -cocker spaniel -leader of the group by default due to outgoing personality -people pleaser at heart, loves going along with the group once the ball is rolling -can tend to get lost in his own thoughts, bottles thiings up for the betterment of others Catnap: -he/they/it (nonbinary) -ageless (mentally 23) -russian blue -second in command by default (hates it) -always tired but is also an insomniac, lavender gas has stopped being effective for them -very bad add that doesn't mix well with the insomnia

Hoppy Hopscotch: -she/her (cis) -ageless (mentally 19) -white tailed jackrabbit/hare -motivational backbone of the group -sets high expectations for herself that she does her best to acompish -she hates it when shes told she can't do something

Kickin' Chicken: -he/him (trans ftm) -ageless (mentally 18) -leghorn chicken -youngest of the group (and shows it) -usually the one to innitiate games. loves having fun, very adhd -has really bad abandonment issues, covers it up with entertainment

Bubba Bubbaphant: -he/him (cis) -ageless (mentally 26) -bornean elephant -oldest of the group (and shows it...) -talks a bit too much, but is only try to help and usually only has the best intentions, just a bad way of showing it -remembers too much about things that probably shouldn't matter anymore

Bobby Bearhug: -she/her (trans mtf) -ageless (mentally 21) -black bear -the all forever mighty mom friend -always there to be a shoulder to cry on. she'll be your #1 listener and reassure you as much as you need -she doesn't quite know her own strength sometimes

Craftycorn: -they/them (nonbinary) -ageless (mentally 19) -unicorn -shy, introverted friend who draws on napkins at dinner -loves to express themself through art, whether that be drawing or writing, maybe singing -horrible at reading people, constantly worried for friendships but doesn't outwardly say it

Picky Piggy: -she/they (demigirl) -ageless (mentally 20) -red wattle hog -always inviting people over, loves planning get togethers -loves to cook and bake, always making something that she gets her friends to try -has horrific intrusive thoughts they kind of just spout out sometimes

#fitz posting #my art #poppy playtime #ppt 3 #poppy playtime chapter 3 #smiling critters #dogday #catnap #hoppy hopscotch #kickin' chicken #bubba bubbaphant #bobby bearhug #craftycorn #picky piggy #smiling critters redesigns #fan design #better bigger bodies #b3 au

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latimeria-fell-from-heaven · 10 months

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⌗︙・⚠︎ miguel o'hara unable to keep his desperation and urges at bay ⚠︎ ♡⸝⸝

Whenever a difficult and unsavory situation was to be presented before you, you would play dumb. With a confused expression on your face, and eyes filled with naivety like a lost puppy, you'd play dumb.

Not all the time of course, since this sort of act sometimes just wasn't enough to keep some situations from blowing up right in your face. Your feigned ignorance would be an acting catalyst for a much bigger problem, and it was only then that you'd drop the act and find a safe way to diffuse the issue before it coagulated into something worse. The number of times when you were just so aware—so hyper-aware of what could be yet another hot mess or a blessing in disguise—yet gave nothing but a sweet clueless smile, was countless.

The less you knew, the less you'd be hurt. Yeah, it's a terrible way of dealing with your problems, but you're self-aware enough to know that. It feels awful to act like a fool when you so badly want to say what's on your mind, to have to pent up your feelings and thoughts just because you don't want to ruin what you've worked so hard to build up. But you're a coward—a sniveling, pathetic little coward that can't even properly face their own problems like an adult—first and foremost, even if your cowardice provided but a temporary safety.

But by god, this strange little coping mechanism was probably the only thing that keeps you away from his touch, his twisted affections, and just everything about him. Miguel O'Hara is someone who is testing your ability, making it so hard to keep a calm face when all you want to do is fight your way out of his obsessive hold and run far away. His temper is far from pleasant, flaring red like hellfire and fangs bared as if he were ready to tear you to pieces, and it's clear he has the strength to do it if he so easily wanted to.

But he doesn't—he wouldn't—ever direct his animalistic anger at you, not physically. No matter how much you beg or try to bargain with him to please just let you go or try your hand at escaping his futuristically clean apartment, he never lets his physical prowess loose upon you, never raising a clawed hand to wrap around your fragile neck. No, the most he's ever done was grab onto your shoulders with a painful squeeze, voice raising more and more until you swear you felt a faint ringing in your ears. Upon seeing your pained expression, he loosened his grip but still didn’t release you. He coaxed you—forced you—into promising that you wouldn't try that again, his voice and face bordering on desperation as he sucks in deep breaths, cooling down his explosive temper.

It's not like you have much of a choice either. Especially when Miguel's affectionate touches and embraces become more intimate, dipping closer and closer into unwanted territory that leaves your heart racing. And not in a good way.

It's so hard to pretend, hard to play dumb when Miguel tries so hard to make his inconspicuous touches seem so innocent, so loving, as his hands draw close to areas he shouldn't even have permission to touch. When he forces you upon his lap, face buried in the side of your neck—you're even sure he inhales your scent—the feeling of something hot and stiff prodding at you from below is far from lost on you. It's a bit hard to be able to hold a conversation with what is essentially your kidnapper, whom you know retreats to the privacy of the bathroom to relieve himself when your supposed obliviousness becomes too much for him.

You know it's only a matter of time before Miguel's patience runs thin, and the touches that you always squirm away from will devolve and become even more obvious and more desperate. You know that Miguel is fighting every urge to just take you against whatever surface happens to be nearest, fighting the urge to leave your lower half numb until you could hardly walk anymore. You know that he wants nothing more than to fill you with him, your bodies clinging onto one another as you fill up and overwhelm each other's senses.

You're proven right when Miguel corners you against the wall, eyes red with carnal need and body so warm that it is more akin to flames about to burn uncontrollably. You're proven right when Miguel seizes you by the shoulders and hunches over to force his lips onto yours, swallowing up the sounds you make and using his strength to still you amidst all of your squirming. You're proven right when he begins to carry you to that disgustingly pristine bedroom of his, ignoring your attempts at escape while his touches and kisses begin to become more feverish and desperate.

Playing dumb did not make Miguel's pent-up desires magically go away. It only simply stalled the inevitable.

"Se siente muy bien—muy apretado.." Miguel pants above you as his hips buck against your skin, rendering you unable to bite back the warbled moans you'd been trying so hard to swallow down. He becomes excited upon hearing your cries, barely able to suppress himself from smothering his body against yours. But he seems to remember that he doesn't have to hold himself back anymore, doesn't have to keep his desire for you at bay.

The last words he whispers before pushing his lips to yours are, "Te amo tanto mi cariño." Miguel moans into your mouth, already drunk on your lips like the lovesick fool he is. Not even a few seconds pass before he's deepening the kiss, furiously invading and exploring every single last inch he could humanly reach. There is no room for oxygen—Miguel is barely even breathing in the kiss, too focused on feeling your lips upon his—and you struggle to take even the simplest of breaths. Even if you try to yank yourself away from the overwhelming kiss, Miguel would just find a way to meld his mouth to yours again.

Your arms are stuck together above your head—laser-red webbing holds them tight together and sturdily to the headboard—and no amount of struggling would do good in loosening your limbs. Miguel keeps your legs spread with his waist, leaving no room for you to kick him away or curl your legs up defensively. It also provides him with the perfect angle in with to animalistically pound into you, burying himself as deep as he can possibly can. When he pulls his hips back, he's quick to push his cock back inside, unwilling to leave your insides for even a second.

Miguel is too big, forcing your insides to accommodate his throbbing shaft as it stretched you far wider than you'd thought to be possible. Even if he had so lovingly spread you out, thick fingers rubbing against your velvet-soft walls, it still wasn't enough to prepare you when he pushed just the swollen tip past sensitive muscles. He tried his best to be gentle and patient, he really did, but the sight of your sniveling expression effortlessly tore his restraint into shreds. He couldn't bring himself to stop the rapid movements of his hips, unable to bite back his desperation to feel your fluttering walls around his thick shaft.

And now he's like a parasite, trying to worm his way into your body, desperate to feel your warmth around him. Relentlessly, he unravels your body bit by bit, not caring for the damage that he leaves behind. He only cares to carve himself into your very soul, merge himself with you until you and him are all but one.

You feel like you're going to die; you can hear your own heartbeat pounding violently inside your head, and your face feels like someone lit it on fire. You're sure that you look like an absolute mess. The worst part is, you can feel ebbs of pleasure eating away at your nerves, leaving you feeling utterly humiliated at how Miguel is forcing your body to so easily surrender to his touch and twisted love. This is the absolute worst.

A shriek escapes from your lips and into the kiss as Miguel drops nearly the entirety of his weight on your body, pushing his fat cock right up into a sensitive spot. On reflex you jerk your head away, breaking the kiss as you let out a broken moan. It takes you a few seconds to realize that you came. You orgasmed. Miguel made you come undone just like that. And you know that he knows. He moans and wheezes, hips moving like a jackhammer as the sudden tightening of your walls forces his own orgasm to come forth quicker.

"Te amo--teamoteamoteamoteamo—" Miguel chants it over and over, endlessly pouring out his love for you in the only way he can before he finally cums. He can feel the way your walls flutter and pulse as they milk him for his worth, and he can see how you snivel and whine from overstimulation. You truly have no idea as to how much you truly affect, how even the simplest action on your part sends his mind and heart into overdrive. You drive him crazy.

Exhausted—no, you know that he's using it as a cover just to shower you in postcoital affections—, he nuzzles himself into the base of your neck, pressing lazy kisses near where your pulse beats rapidly. You shudder against him, the sensations feeling like death clawing against your body, but you're too out of it to even try and push him away, so you're forced to lay there beneath him. He whispers sweet nothings, surely about his endless love for you, but you don't want to hear that. Anything but hearing him spout nonsense about his obsessive love for you.

"Otra vez," he murmurs against your skin, fangs just barely coming close to pressing down on your neck. His cock twitches back to life inside your overstimulated walls, ignoring the pleasurable pain of his own body trying to come down from its high just so he could fuck you senseless again. Miguel pulls away, to drink up the sight of his cariño once more beneath him, your form shivering so adorably—he can feel himself shiver from pure arousal alone. Miguel thinks that you're the most gorgeous person he's ever seen in his damn life.

"Let's go again mi amor."

#lati thirsts #tw yandere #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #yandere spiderman #yandere spiderverse #yandere miguel o'hara #my spanish is very rusty pls forgive any mistakes i made ;-;

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yongislong · 1 year

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ideal types + dreamies.

genre: fluff? haha

note: ty anon! i hope this is what you meant! this is just my opinion btw i don't know what these mfs like, i tried not to do body types or anything like that bc... ya lol. lmk if anything comes across as harmful! not proofread...

mark... would probably want someone who is just very chill in general. an ambivert for sure. someone very genuine, personable and freindly. someone who can go with the flow but is also so naturally funny. he laughs at everything so that shouldn't be too hard LMAO. loves people who have good music taste. LOOVE a street style type of person. dancer maybe?? someone who he can spend alone time with and fully drop any act he feels he needs to put up. someone who makes him feel safe and comforted. i don't think height matters to him since i think he's pretty secure with himself! likes someone with a loud laugh hehe. someone poc probably. prefers longer hair but will hype you up no matter what you look like because he genuinely finds you perfect. someone who hypes him up as well

renjun... someone artsy for sure! probably someone softer and a more... calming? aura? if he can sit in silence with you and still feel fulfilled i think that's perfect for him. someone shorter maybe? likes full cheeks. doesn't really matter what style for him tbh, he has a pretty dark academia style so if you're similar that cool but if you can change the way he dresses and have him explore new things, he is so down for that. someone who supports him and comforts him when he's having a hard week/month/etc. someone who likes cafes and museums. likes unique features. bubbly personality but also someone who is silently observant. a sucker for intelligent ppl

jeno... hmm... someone cool for sure. likes darker styles i feel like? but also likes it when you dress in lighter colors and stuff as well! doesn't matter what length your hair is, but likes pixie cuts tbh. i feel like he likes more quirky people since he can be a bit serious sometimes. shy boy/excited cute partner trope for sure. someone more assertive. nice smile so you can both be known as the cute smile couple muahaha. like someone who he can go on hikes with and someone who likes nature, dogs and enjoys being more adventurous. would like someone to nurture him tbh, like not baby him but... can take care of him and make him feel loved and relaxed. likes to feel wanted and manly most of the time though. giving very wattpad bad boy whos also a sweetheart?

haechan... someone shy probably so he can be brought back down to earth LMAO but again!!! i think as long as he clicks with someone, he won't really mind. likes to reassure his partner but also likes someone who is driven and passionate about something. would enjoy being around someone who enjoys watching movies and tv. looots of movie dates. someone in a more vintage style would be very intriguing to him. likes people out of the norm. think of chae from twice in regards to style. someone confident no matter what people say about them. likes to be able to have emotional conversations and be open about issues so someone more mature in that aspect would be appreciated. likes clingy people tbh. someone who's probably a bit more structured

jaemin... likes people who are hard to understand. likes people who dress and act however they want to. would support you no matter what LMAO. someone respectful and polite and full of love. animal lover. he pegs me as the type of person who goes for personality more than anything else, if he finds you attractive its just a plus LOL. definitely someone who's an ambivert. someone who can keep up when he's more excited/extroverted but also someone who can sit, cuddle, cook and read in silence with. definitely someone cute! especially if they seem more intimidating on the outside. he finds that juxtaposition really charming. maybe someone short but i don't think it would make or break anything. a poc lover, SLAAYY. hates try-hards or pick me's. someone who can give him confidence and vice versa

chenle... someone more emotionally mature and go with the flow. someone who is consistent. probably someone smart but not necessarily academically? like someone who is wise! life smart LOL. someone who enjoys cooking and shopping together. likes someone who is able to drive him forward if he feels stuck. someone who's really nice. like really REALLY nice. someone who can teach him good values and helps him see life through different perspectives. doesn't really care too much about style, i can't see him being with someone who is heavy heavy into fashion unless its more leaned towards street wear. just someone really cool, yknow? enjoys introverts because he likes to be able to be the only person to see you come out of your shell

jisung... short extrovert HAHA. he's pretty tall so tbh... most people are shorter than him so it doesn't really matter. but i love the trope of him being super quiet with a partner who enjoys peppering his face in kisses and bragging about him to all their friends. carefree person for sure. someone who can let him look at hard situations and help him alleviate his anxiety and let him know everything is gonna be okay because he's trying his best. likes darker styles. i think of like 2014 tumblr when i think of him LMAOO. so yeah... maybe something like that but modernized? likes bangs. loooves people who are naturally cute. likes people who get flustered easily haha. someone who's not embarrassed to show that they love him

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muniimyg · 1 month

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ personal trainer!jungkook ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist request: closed

inspo from tiktok

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @rrosiitas @jkslvsnella @parkinglot-nights @kissyfacekoo

personal trainer!jungkook has trained a handful of people, but you have to be the most entertaining one yet. every morning you walk in with your 32oz hydroflask filled with water and ice and a sleepy smile. he thinks it's the funniest thing ever because you don't even end up drinking half of what you're bringing. he always teases you about it. in return, you mock him regarding his newest haircut (secretly loving every style on him) and how his commitment issues shouldn't be so obvious. he rolls his eyes, laughs, and playfully throws punches your way.

personal trainer!jungkook would listen to your new boyfriend stories in between sets and hate it. sometimes, he'd purposely mis-count your reps just so he can feel like he avenged himself. when you catch on to his "lack" of math skills, you groan, "you hate me, don't you?" he'd nod, saying yes but he'd mean no.

personal trainer!jungook's favourite day is legs/ass day. your ass pump has to be what gets him through the week (specifically why he suggested legs/ass day to be 4 times a week). he loves it when you wear your light pink fucking lululemon set. some days, you'll even tie your hair up and add a little ribbon to it. he'll flick it, saying you look stupid but what is actually stupid is how much he likes it on you. you joke, "i'll take it off if you'll let me tie it around your biceps hehehhee..." he scrunches his nose at you and chuckles, "in your dreams, princess." ... all of this has him acting up, tbh. when you do your squats, he takes breaks. he looks away or makes dumb excuses like needing to check something at the front desk just so he can ease his nerves. or, he’ll simply go to the washroom to splash his face with cold water. when he comes back, he helps spot you. you (purposely) arch your back too much whenever you do this set. you do this set quietly. he watches quietly. with other exercises, he helps improve your posture. "so, when you come up, you're going to squeeze your glutes, yeah? w-what's so funny?" you snicker at him and throw your head back. "n-nothing! you have a cute bum." he glares at you. "shut up." you put your hands up but quickly drop them to his bum level and pretend to squeeze them. "my ass is like... twice yours." jungkook then chuckles, "i know. i built it. i own that ass."

personal trainer!jungkook knows what he's doing when he wears his fucking compression shirts. white, black, grey, navy blue—any. your favourite combination has to be the classic white with grey sweats. god, it's crazy. his body is carved in the most sexy way possible... it's enough to get you to the gym even when you're on your period. what makes this worse is that he's usually in a cheekier mood when he's in his compression shirts. maybe it's because he knows he's hot... it's also times like these where you act a lot cuter during your workouts. "and then when you pull down like this... you're basically working on your lats—" jungkook pauses and gives you a look. you smile, snickering at him because you finally know what your lats are and it's all thanks to him. low, he offers you his high-5. you high-5 him and then close your hands together. like a little handshake, he squeezes your hand and for a moment—just a mere fleeting moment—you two hold hands.

personal trainer!jungkook knows you respond well to praise. when he knows you had a heavier training day the day before, he's nice enough to give you low-intensity work outs the next day. still, as you struggle to push through, he doesn't let you cut out. instead, he empowers you and feeds your delulu. "you got this, ___. come on, drive it up. yes! just like that. mhmm, good, good. good job, mama. one more, last one... yes! see? knew you could do it. that's what i like to see! let's fucking goooo!" you catch your breath and glare at him. "i h-hate you." he shrugs. "proud of you. you did well. rest up... you have one more set."

#bts blurb #bts scenario #jk gym rat #jk fanfic #jk scenario #jk imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook mini #bts fanfic

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