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#i will go up the walls in lighting speed
marimayscarlett · 4 months
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Some people on this site I swear to god, they're desiring the old man but don't want to deal with aging. Whereas I, a connoisseur, know how to appreciate the gentle cracking of his back or the melodic popping of his knees. It's like a world class symphony to my ears
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jrueships · 4 months
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jaren waiting for his husband to come back from the war (therapy)
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pepprs · 2 years
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LOLLLLL not to liveblog this shit but i asked my s*per visor who is abandoning us (lol) to take a walk with me and she said yes. ok 😃
#purrs#1 week from today. SHE JUST ACCEPTED IT SGDJSFSJGSKDDHKVDKVD 😵😵😵😵😵😵😵😵 holy fuck. lollllllll. im goingto cry so hard i **** and she’s gonna b#be like wtf 😐 LOL. um. but like. you are my mentor and my friend and someone i look up to and you are leaving forever and i am literally not#letting you do that without getting to talk bc i litcherally do not have a personal relationship w her anymore and it’s like uh.m. since we#wont have a work or school relationship anymore can we be friends now ok thanks. aughhhh. i asked for a whole HOUR and she said yes LOLLLLLL#us *5 miles away from campus sweating and shaking with exhaustion* me: HOW COULD YPU LEAVE ME crying so hard im foaming at the mouth… her: 🤨#*walks abck to the office at the speed of light without me lol*. im kidding. but omg this is the first walk im going on with just her since#fucking NOVEMVER 1 2018. that is INSANE. how have we not been on a walk since then. this is my first ONE ON ONE WITH HER since like June idk#9 or something 2019. INSANE! sick and twisted. our first actual personal conversation. lollllllll im going to pass out. how can i tell her#how painful this has been and how idk if i would even be alive without her no joke. maybe i don’t say that part. but lol.also the way we#have literally 2 more times guaranteed to ever see each other again. throwing up. dying also#delete later#liteealy the way this woman is the entire fucking reason i was able to exist as i am and she is leaving voluntarily and we haven’t talked#about this at all other than me bursting into tears in front of her 2 weeks ago. lol. yeah no i am getting in on the action like everyone#else. we are going to have a gonversation and it had better be a good one bc otherwise i will be unable to cope#<- will be unable to cope regardless of what happens. but thank god i asked her bc lkke. god. i need to talk to her so bad *bashing head#into wall* *walking into traffic* etc etc. like do you realize this destroys the very fabric of… idk. i sound insane but i promise this#reaction is warranted at least slightly. this is titanic and the timing could not be worse and i am in so much pain. lol
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malasquid · 2 months
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So. I've Cracked The Code On The Appearance Changes in Side Order.
Wall of photos and such incoming.
After a lot of testing, I've discovered there are 7 different little lights and doodads that are added to Agent 8 via upgrading certain chips, each with a basic 1st tier and and upgraded 2nd tier. The 1st tier of upgrades appear after picking up two of the same chips in that changes pool (ex: 2 Homing Shots chips), with the 2nd tier appearing after picking up five of them (ex: 5 Homing Shot chips). There is no further visual indicators added for maxing chips that go beyond 5, such as Splash Damage or Rush Attack.
Full disclaimer: This is the result of researching a LOT of my own runs, so I can say this is true with about 95% certainty. If I labeled an ability chip in the wrong visual pool, please let me know!
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Let's start with the basics - our control group. No Teal upgrades provide any visible changes to Agent 8 (or Pearl-bot for that matter), so I ran an all-teal palette to demonstrate.
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First is likely one of the more requested visual changes - the Headset. The 1st tier sports a basic metallic earpiece, with the 2nd adding an antenna and eyepiece that match your primary ink color.
Maxing Splash Damage, Sound Wave Damage, Splash Radius, Special Charge Up, Turf Lucky Chain, Rush Knockback, and Homing Shots all provide the headset!
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Next up is Ink Bubbles. The 1st tier shows transparent, slower bubbles flowing in 8's ink tank, with the bubbles being faster and more opaque in the 2nd tier.
Nabbing Poison Ink, Splat Ink Recovery, Ink Saver Sub, Ink Recovery Rate, Sticky Ink, and Explosion Knockback all provide Ink Bubbles.
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Following that is the Fins. The 1st tier shows the base shackles being added to 8's boots, with the fins themselves being added for the 2nd tier.
Picking up Run Speed, Swim Speed, Rush Attack, Mobile Ink Recovery, Mobile Special Charge, and Mobile Drone Gauge all provide the Fins.
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Now, moving on to the weapon upgrades!
First we have the Muzzle Lights, which appear at the muzzle of most weapons, and the sides of the brush and roller nearest the base. The 1st tier shows a circle and squares circling around the muzzle, with the 2nd tier being more exaggerated, with alternating squares and rectangles forming a hexagon pattern in the center.
These are exclusive to the Ink Damage, Main Damage (Close), and Main Damage (Distant) chips.
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Next up is likely the most common visual one can see on their run - the Arrows. The 1st tier shows a circle with three arrows pointing down the weapon, with the 2nd tier adding some blowback markers behind the circle.
These are on a whopping TEN upgrades, being Splatling Barrage, Main Firing Speed, Horizontal Slash Speed, Main Range, Main Piercing, Main Ink Coverage, Rush Ink Coverage, Quick Charge, Shot Spread Reduction, and Ink Saver Main.
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Last of the weapon upgrades are the Dots. The 1st tier is 3 large dots and a circle spinning at the bottom of your weapon or around your wrist, with the 2nd tier adding another circle around the dots.
These can be found on the Hindrance Damage, Ink Attack Size, Charge Storage, Moving Ink Speed, Extra Dodge Roll, Brella Cooldown, and Knockback upgrades.
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And finally, my favorite little knick-knack, the Shrimp Hook. This little guy appears on your ink tank after picking up 2 matching Luck upgrades (ex: Lucky Bomb Drop, Canned Special Drop, etc), and begins to glow after picking up 5. However, the glowing effect is not visible in the post-game screen. 😔 (I would totally buy one of these if someone made one, btw)
By the way, 7 visual upgrades * 5 chips needed to max each visual is 35 chips, which is just shy of the 36 total chips you can have on one palette, which means, in theory, you could. Have every maxed visual indicator on in one run.
Just a thought. : )
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hazelfoureyes · 2 months
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A boiling frog (Alastor x Reader smut)
saw someone talk about “boiling frog syndrome”, when a situation becomes dire so slowly you don’t realize how dangerous it is until it’s too late, like a frog slipping into death as the cold water comes to a boil, never trying to leap out. Made me think of Louisiana frog legs and, of course, our self obsessed deer demon. my longwinded ass used restraint and went for a PWP (I hope…. No, theres still plot. I’m a slut for plot. Sorry?)
Your companionship was peppered onto Alastor so gently and slowly he didn’t realize he was too far gone until he was hopelessly dependent on your attention. He decides the only remedy is to drown you in his.
tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x fem reader, cunnilingus, biting, work attire, realistic descriptions of yet another job I once had, fingering, mentions of my favorite alcoholic beverage, southern shit, filing, that asshole in room 127
Minors DNI
When you first arrived at the hotel, Alastor was pleased to have some help. Charlie informed him of your experience on earth managing apartments and how you would be taking on the role of ‘Resident Relations Manager’. Any issues, complaints, or room adjustments would go to you first. Marvelous. As his underling, you often came to him with your own gripes and stories of the latest drama around the hotel. It became a sort of ritual to meet at the bar after work, talking about the day’s trivial matters over two fingers of rye and a cassis orange. One morning you joined him for coffee in the sunroom he added shortly after your arrival, silently enjoying the view. Then you returned the next day. At some point you started filling his mug and bringing it to the chair he always used. Neither of you spoke, which he found refreshing.
The group dinners were never his scene, the familiarity they bore was uncomfortable and dangerous to his plans. But he overheard your laughter as you and Angel teased each other about what could or couldn’t be defined as a kink. When he joined the table, he was pleasantly surprised at the in-depth conversations you sparked among the band of hopeless fools he’d come to enjoy.
So when he entered the sunroom one morning to see his cup, but not you, it ruffled his fur, so to speak. At dinner, he heard from Charlie you were eating in your office. The bar was full of residents and yet empty all the same when you never arrived.
Three days was all it took. Three days of not seeing you. When he walked past the bar at 9pm to see just Angel and Husk, he continued onward until in the safety of the darkened hall. Licking his teeth, he found himself getting angry. Annoyed that he was promised, by your actions, interesting conversation and like-minded company. His fists curled out of frustration, lights strobing as he stalked down the hall.
But that melted into something even more upsetting, he felt… worried. Not that his smile showed it, passing Vaggie with a nod of his head.
When did you manage to creep into his mind? Like an overlord taking territory, you had taken space in his thoughts with ruthless speed. Never one to be passive in competition, he realized he needed to take drastic measures to catch up to you. He knew of many ways to get *ahead, but he found an ambush always worked like a charm.
Alastor’s shadows gathered before he rose from the floor of your office.
You were standing near a filing cabinet, looking intently at something, “Hello there Alastor, to what-“ you turned the page, not looking at him, “do I owe the pleasure?” You hadn’t actually lifted your head from the file until you felt a hand in the small of your back. You flinched and took a step away, turning around to ask what he was doing when you noticed you weren’t in your office anymore.
The large hole in the wall that led into an endless swamp of a forest hinted at whose room this was.
Closing the file with one hand, you gestured around the room, “Is there a reason I’m here?”
He motioned for you to sit on the bed, and when you laughed he used the microphone to corral you to the edge. “You’ve been busy, as of late.”
“Swamped.” Usually your puns would get atleast a chuckle from your boss, but this time he passed right over it.
“I realized today we haven’t had one of our usual chats in quite a while. What’s been keeping you oh-so-occupied?” He pushed down on your shoulders until you came to rest on the bed.
Nervously, you scooted back a little from him, “Well, so many new residents has meant so many petty little issues. This guy on the 34th floor is angry that the man who killed him is on 37– Alastor?!” He had knelt down and lifted your ankle, slipping your shoe off.
“And?”
“What are you doing?”
“Isn't it obvious?" He picked up the other ankle, "Listening. Continue.”
You laughed breathlessly, “wha-,” but the way he looked up at you seemed to catch your tongue, “uhm, so- yeah so he doesn’t think his killer deserves redemption-,” the other shoe was taken off, neatly set besides its twin. You took a deep breath to try and calm down, “and even if he does, he shouldn’t be—,”Alastor’s hand slipped up your right thigh, fingers taking your stocking and rolling it down. His gaze on your face never wavering.
“Keep going.” The look in his eyes told you he wasn’t just suggesting it.
“-be on a higher floor.” He peeled the left stocking down, delicately pulling it over your toes.
You forgot to breath for a second. Instinctively you brought your knees together.
“That is quite annoying! What ever will you do?” That toothy grin widened as he looked up at you. His hand began to massage the sole of your right foot.
“Huh? Do what?”
“About the man on 34’s complaint”, his hand then moved up to your calf, he hummed, “what supple flesh, my dear.”
“Thank you?” Should you be scared or horny? Was he tenderizing his dinner? He looked up at you expectantly. “I told him if the angels return, higher floors would be the most dangerous.”
"Ha! Quite a clever response! Did it placate him?" He raised your right knee to his mouth, placing his lips above the joint. You felt his breath over your inner thigh as he let out a soft huff of a laugh, a reaction to your confused face. You were absolutely panicked; frozen. That wild look you were giving him, if he could he would drown himself in those eyes. Alastor felt his own excitement build, a twitch pressing his cock against the zipper of his dress pants. What a delicious reaction. His long hands crawled under your work skirt, nails grazing your skin as he grabbed the sides of your panties, "It's rude to leave someone waiting, dear."
You shook your head, crawling backward on the bed, "Okay, I get it. Ha ha, you managed to frazzle me."
A darkness fell over his face, "I don't think you do get it." He opened his mouth and dragged his teeth over the skin of your inner thigh, "You've neglected me quite rudely! Most people wouldn't dare such a thing and yet you don't even seem slightly concerned about it."
Rude? "Alastor, oh my god. What did I do? I've been at work every morning on time, if not early. I have been staying up late to make sure the resident files are up to date. I've been meeting with Charlie like you wanted about-,” He brought the panties down your thighs.
"It is what you haven't been doing, mon cher.” He pulled them clear of one leg, leaving them to hang off the ankle of the other leg. "I've been drinking my coffee alone in the sunroom, do you think I had the set of rocking chairs delivered for my own amusement? Dinner has been monotonous without your conversation. And what about our nightly gossip at the bar?" When he lifted your leg and hooked your knee over his shoulder, you fell back on your elbows to keep from lying flat.
"Listen-- Alastor!" His name was squeaked out as a bite stung you, dangerously close to your now naked pussy.
"Sir." He chided.
"Sir?!" He pushed your skirt up, exposing you, "Sir. I don't really like people going down on me."
"That's odd.” His hands gripped your thighs and dragged your ass to the edge of the bed, your pussy now inches from his face. His eyes rolled from left to right, “I don’t remember asking.” Your other leg was pulled over his shoulder, causing you to finally fall onto your back.
A long, wide tongue licked from mid thigh to the place where your legs met your crotch. You felt the heat of his mouth before he finally made contact with your core, one long lick from entrance to clit.
You buried your face inside the file, inhaling the smell of ink and paper with each pant. Your heart was pounding, the rush of blood from your head to your lap left you dizzy and seeing spots.
“Ah ah! I need your full attention.” He took the file and tossed it to the side. He needed to see your face, this was pointless if he couldn’t watch you go dumb in his mouth.
He had started this wanting to ensure you would be thinking about him as much as he had been you, but the way you couldn’t even speak when he touched you shifted his mission. Now, he wanted to win. Maybe he would be bothered by the absence of your presence in the sunroom, but you’d lie awake at night pained by the absence of his tongue in your cunt.
“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.” Your face was beet red.
“Good. I’ve never been very fond of sharing my toys.” His nose grazed your already throbbing clit as he sunk his tongue into you. Reflexively your thighs pressed against his ears, his head keeping you from closing them entirely. His tongue seemed to lick at your walls as if reaching for something, the sensation wet and warm. You whined, embarrassed at how you were twitching against his lips.
You could feel his smile widen, thumb pressing down on your clit. Gripping the sheets you tried to ease away, the pressure too rough. His nails dug into your left leg, keeping you from making any real difference.
As he dragged his tongue along your walls you felt something you normally didn’t when getting eaten out; the beginning tension of an orgasm slinking into your stomach.
When his mouth left your cunt you gasped, the air stinging at your wet hole and thighs.
“Starting from the morning, tell me exactly what you did today that was so important you didn’t feel the need to entertain me with your company. If your mouth stops moving, so will mine.” He brought his lips to your other thigh, nipping at the skin.
“I made your coffee but got a call about a resident.” His finger pressed against your entrance before breaching.
“Oh, it has been awhile. I thought you were just being modest”, he laughed, your embarrassed expression spurring him forward. He hadn’t expected you to be so tight on just a single digit.
“She feels unsafe, there’s a jackal demon on her floor who keeps”, his finger curled, hitting that bundle of nerves that made your eyes cross, “who is giving her really scary looks.” He bit down again, breaking the skin. You yelled, yanking your leg back but he didn’t release you. “Alastor- please. This is cruel enough.”
“You haven’t even begun to see me be cruel.” He lapped at the wound, finger in you slowly dragging out before entering again. Still bent, it would hit your spongey g-spot with every move. “After that?”
“I had a meeting with Charlie. About the different growth activities.” Eyes closed, you could feel your pleasure slowly inching up that peak. “I needed to organize the files first, so I ate at my desk again.”
His lips cupped your clit as he began to suck. Your hips rose off the bed and his mouth went with you.
“It’s a lot of paperwork, you won’t let me use a computer for it.” His hand pulled back as a second finger joined. The way your cunt was gripping his fingers, he couldn’t imagine how much you’d hiss around his cock. His hips rutted against the air beside the bed, out of your view.
You put your arm over your eyes to hide yourself in some way, breath hitching when his fingers began pumping in and out of you. The moans tumbling from your mouth made Alastor’s grip on you tighten further. His cock leaking into the front of his pants.
When his tongue stopped flitting over your clit you groaned a complaint.
“Ffuuuck, Alastor. D- Uh, Room 127 hates the view o-,” your jaw clenched around the words, “something something blah blah blah —nngh” your head went back, your hips now fully grinding into his mouth. You needed more friction, your orgasm rolling just to the precipice.
His tongue slowed.
“He- he uh, I said he could move,” his fingers curled, pressing over and over into your g-spot, “when he stops being such an asshole. fuck me, please don’t stop—,” you reached down for his head and took a fist full of hair, earning you a surprised moan from him.
Alastor removed his hand from your leg to palm his clothed erection. His nose buried into your bush as his own breathing picked up.
So close.
“-and now I’m here and you’re here,” your words breathy, “and I’m gonna cum—I’m so close, so close,” your lips tingled from the way you were panting.
You choked out a moan as your orgasm reached its climax and pleasure wracked your body. Your grip on his hair stinging, your pussy sucked his fingers in with so much need he closed his eyes and let himself cum against his palm at the thought of his cock in their place. He felt the warmth soak into his pants.
Both of your hands came to your face, too embarrassed to speak.
Alastor placed your shoes and tights beside you, and rested both of his elbows on either side of your head. His weight pressed into you, and you finally looked at him. He was resting his chin on his cradled hands, staring down at you.
With a smug grin and raised his eyebrows he said, “Apology accepted.” He pushed off of you, bringing both fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean with a wet ‘pop’. “See you in the sun room at 8am! Bring that cheery smile I’ve come to enjoy!” He sunk back into the shadows and was gone.
You looked around, you were back in your office. He’d transported you seamlessly from lying on his bed to lying on your desk.
“Yes, sir.”
*get it? He wanted to “get ahead”… head. The slang for cunnilingus ? I’ll see myself out
༻Masterlist༺
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reasonsforhope · 9 months
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"A team of researchers at Washington University in St. Louis has developed a real-time air monitor that can detect any of the SARS-CoV-2 virus variants that are present in a room in about 5 minutes.
The proof-of-concept device was created by researchers from the McKelvey School of Engineering and the School of Medicine at Washington University...
The results are contained in a July 10 publication in Nature Communications that provides details about how the technology works.
The device holds promise as a breakthrough that - when commercially available - could be used in hospitals and health care facilities, schools, congregate living quarters, and other public places to help detect not only the SARS-CoV-2 virus, but other respiratory virus aerosol such as influenza and respiratory syncytial virus (RSV) as well.
“There is nothing at the moment that tells us how safe a room is,” Cirrito said, in the university’s news release. “If you are in a room with 100 people, you don’t want to find out five days later whether you could be sick or not. The idea with this device is that you can know essentially in real time, or every 5 minutes, if there is a live virus in the air.”
How It Works
The team combined expertise in biosensing with knowhow in designing instruments that measure the toxicity of air. The resulting device is an air sampler that operates based on what’s called “wet cyclone technology.” Air is sucked into the sampler at very high speeds and is then mixed centrifugally with a fluid containing a nanobody that recognizes the spike protein from the SARS-CoV-2 virus. That fluid, which lines the walls of the sampler, creates a surface vortex that traps the virus aerosols. The wet cyclone sampler has a pump that collects the fluid and sends it to the biosensor for detection of the virus using electrochemistry.
The success of the instrument is linked to the extremely high velocity it generates - the monitor has a flow rate of about 1,000 liters per minute - allowing it to sample a much larger volume of air over a 5-minute collection period than what is possible with currently available commercial samplers. It’s also compact - about one foot wide and 10 inches tall - and lights up when a virus is detected, alerting users to increase airflow or circulation in the room.
Testing the Monitor
To test the monitor, the team placed it in the apartments of two Covid-positive patients. The real-time air samples from the bedrooms were then compared with air samples collected from a virus-free control room. The device detected the RNA of the virus in the air samples from the bedrooms but did not detect any in the control air samples.
In laboratory experiments that aerosolized SARS-CoV-2 into a room-sized chamber, the wet cyclone and biosensor were able to detect varying levels of airborne virus concentrations after only a few minutes of sampling, according to the study.
“We are starting with SARS-CoV-2, but there are plans to also measure influenza, RSV, rhinovirus and other top pathogens that routinely infect people,” Cirrito said. “In a hospital setting, the monitor could be used to measure for staph or strep, which cause all kinds of complications for patients. This could really have a major impact on people’s health.”
The Washington University team is now working to commercialize the air quality monitor."
-via Forbes, July 11, 2023
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Holy shit. I know it's still early in the technology and more testing will inevitably be needed but holy shit.
Literally, if it bears out, this could revolutionize medicine. And maybe let immunocompromised people fucking go places again
Also, for those who don't know, Nature Communications is a very prestigious scientific journal that focuses on Pretty Big Deal research. Their review process is incredibly rigorous. This is an absolutely HUGE credibility boost to this research and prototype
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phsychobanana · 5 months
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In your eyes
Pairing: Zuko x Firebender!reader
Summary: When Zuko falls for a member of the gaang, he fears that his mistakes may ruin his chances with them.
Word count: 2.3k
A/n~ I think this is gender neutral? I don't remember putting any specific pronouns, but correct me if i'm wrong. Enjoy!
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Funnily enough, the first time you met Zuko was at the northern water tribe. Two fire benders surrounded by waterbenders during a full moon. Not exactly an ideal situation for any firebender, but you were welcome, whereas Zuko was not.
You were running as fast as you could, your legs carrying you in a speed you didn't know was even possible. Katara was in trouble and the moon was slowly disappearing from the sky, fire nation soldiers were everywhere, the water benders were struggling with the loss of the moon and you were terrified.
"Katara!" You yell to her as you get closer to the girl. She was fighting a boy you had never seen before.
You jump on the boy's back and hold your hand to his throat, heating your palm up slowly.
"I would choose my next move carefully if I were you." You say as Katara puts her own hands to her neck and moves them around trying to mimic an explosion.
Suddenly, the boy moves his hands to your face and you feel a burning swipe across your eyebrow. You let go of him and move your hands to your face, a searing pain on your eyebrow almost making you drop to your knees. Katara rushes to your side in a panic,
You see the boy grab Aang and run off before you could do anything.
"Who was that?" You ask Katara angrily.
"Zuko."
***
Zuko followed you and the gaang around for weeks, those weeks turning into months. And the more he saw you, the more he wanted to see you again.
Unfortunately for him, the more you saw him, the more you wanted to smash his head through a window. But every couple has their problems.
You held a very strong grudge towards him, seeing as your eyebrow had scarred and you now had a line going through your eyebrow and over your eye. It made you angry every time you looked in the mirror.
Unbeknownst to you, Zuko felt absolutely terrible for what he had done. He didn't mean to scar you, he would never wish his fate on anyone. Not even his greatest enemy, which lamentably, happened to be you at the moment.
***
The next memorable time that you saw Zuko was in the crystal cave. You had both been thrown in there as a punishment and you were freaking out. Aang, Katara, and Sokka needed you.
You started hitting the walls, throwing as much fire power at it as possible, you even broke a crystal into one big sharp shard and slammed it against the door repeatedly, but it was no use.
"There's no point in doing that." Zuko says, looking at you with his blazing golden eyes. "We aren't getting out until they want us out."
You just scoff in response, unsure of why he was even talking to you in the first place.
He looks at you when he hears your scoff, "You don't have to be rude."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hurt your feelings by being mean?" You mock him in a baby voice, causing him to roll his eyes.
"What's your problem?" Zuko asks, looking you up and down with pinched eyebrows.
"What is my problem? You're my problem, Zuko. You've been hunting my friends and I for months, you've hurt us -or attempted to- more times than I can count, you gave me this," You point to your scar, making him flinch, "And you have the nerve to ask me what my problem is?" You let out another scoff and turn around, giving him your back.
Zuko looks down at his hands, not knowing what to say. He watches as you light each one of your fingers up like a candle to keep yourself distracted.
He walks over and sits next to you, doing the same with his fingers.
You look at him and roll your eyes.
He smiles softly to himself. You haven't moved away from him, yet.
***
If there had ever been even a sliver of you that had liked him in that cave, it was completely gone now. He had betrayed you that night in the cave and it hurt you.
It was the day of the eclipse and you were running through the underground tunnels, looking for Sokka. As you were running you bumped into something, falling hard to the ground.
"Ow!" A familiar voice huffed as the other person made contact with the ground.
"Zuko?"
He looks up, his hair falling into his eyes. You notice his eyes widen and light up, but just as he goes to say something you lunge at him.
With your hands around his neck, you yell at him through gritted teeth. "I trusted you!"
"I know, I'm sorry." He barely gets the words out, gasping and clawing at your hands.
You let go of him and slam him into the ground hard.
"I swear to the spirits, if you ever try to hurt my friends again I will kill you with my own two hands. No bending, no help, just me and you." You say and walk away to go find Sokka.
Zuko sits there for a moment replaying what you said in his head over again. A small smile spreads across his face and he jumps up, running after you.
***
"You have got to be kidding me!" You yell at your friends. They were letting Zuko, the guy that had tried to kill you and capture Aang on more occasions than you could count, into the group.
"Everyone deserves a second.....or 100th chance, Y/n." Aang says, placing a hand on your shoulder as Zuko takes a step towards you.
You clench your fist defensively, making him put his hands up in defense as he takes another step forward.
"I get why you wouldn't trust me, but I've changed." He says, taking one of your hands in his. You pull away with a hollow laugh and walk away.
"Fine, let this psycho join us. I don't care." You say as you disappear behind a wall.
Zuko looks down with a sigh. "Challenge accepted..." He says under his breath as he thinks of ways to win you over.
***
Two days after Zuko joined the gaang, you were attacked. A pack of firebenders found you, attacking the group. You all paired together, Sokka with Toph, Katara with Aang, and you with Zuko. You had begged Toph to pair with you but Sokka stole her, leaving you with the one person you did not want.
You were back to back, fighting off the soldiers when another fleet arrived. The gaang chose to run, not wanting to be captured. You stayed behind to fight off the rest of the soldiers so the others could get away.
"Y/n come on! Hurry!" Sokka yelled for you as you were running after Appa. A soldier dived at you and their hand grabbed at your ankle, making you tumble to the ground.
"Go!" You yell and Aang pulls Appa out of there. You kick your foot back at the soldier, successfully kicking them in the face. You run off into the forest, You can hear the soldiers running after you as you twist through the trees.
You feel something grab your arm and pull you toward them. Looking up, you see Zuko. He's not looking at you, instead looking at the soldiers running around looking for you. You notice that he pulled you into a clearing hidden by trees and bushes. He places his hand over you mouth as you go to say something.
His adams apple bobs as he swallows harshly, listening and watching for any signs that the soldiers might be headed towards the two of you. After no signs, he looks down at you, finally making eye contact.
His golden eyes shine as he looks at you and he smiles softly.
"Thank you." You say quietly, not wanting to be too loud.
He nods.
"Do you still hate me?" He asks with a barely there smirk.
You shake your head. "I don't think I ever really hated you." He smiles at you. "I just strongly disliked you. It was a very strong dislike. Very strong."
"Okay, I get it."
You laugh softly at his dismissiveness of the subject.
"Do you think I'm still a bad guy?" His voice is quiet. Barely a whisper, but you hear it.
You look at him, he's looking down at the grass, his fingers are playing with each other out of habit, his hair is fallen over his face and covering his eyes. You never quite realized how pretty he was.
"Of course not-" You begin to tell him your answer, but your words are interrupted by yelling.
The two of you turn your heads in the direction of the noises and see your friends running to you.
"There they are!" Katara calls to the others as she makes eye contact with you.
Zuko lets out a frustrated breath at the interruption, but he gets up and dusts off his clothes, offering you his hand.
***
The days after that moment in the woods would replay in your mind every night before you would sleep, every morning when you'd awake, every meal, every training session with Aang and Zuko, every group meeting, every day all day.
You had started watching Zuko more than you would care to admit. The way he tried to make up for all of his past mistakes always seemed to put a smile on your face. He helped Katara in the kitchen when he could, he always made time to talk about weapons with Sokka, he always played games with Toph and Aang, and he was especially trying to make it up to you. Though you didn't notice that part.
He always pulled your chairs out for you, he helped teach you how to control the lightning within you, he even got you flowers one time. Unfortunately the flowers backfired and Appa ended up eating them, sneezing petals for a week.
You were currently training Aang on the beach with Zuko. The sun was blazing down on your back and your cotton shirt was absorbing all of the heat, making you sweat more than you would normally.
You walk over to where Katara, Toph, Sokka, and Suki are sitting, sipping their little coconut drinks as they watch you and Zuko beat the arrows off of Aang.
You take both ends of your shirt and pull it over your head, leaving you in your shorts and bathing suit top. When you walk back over to the boys you notice how red Zuko's face is.
"You alright over there, Z?" You ask, worried that he might be overworking himself in the heat.
His head snaps to look you in the eyes, his face going an even deeper red.
"Y-yeah, heh. Why wouldn't I be?" He looks around, avoiding looking at you with everything in him.
You decide to ignore his weird reaction to your words and go back to teaching Aang.
"This one is a partner move. So, I'll demonstrate with Zuko and then when you understand how to do it, you can try with him." You explain as you walk over to the spluttering and red as a beet, boy.
You move his hand to your waist and his other in yours, your own face heating up a bit at this position. You then kick his own foot out from underneath him and flip him over your shoulder. You light your hand ablaze and put it near Zuko's neck like one would a sword.
"I thought you said this was a partner move," Zuko groans out.
"Yeah, good guy and bad guy. Partners." You say with a smirk.
"You can do that, right Aang?"
Aang nods his head excitedly.
After another hour or two of flipping Zuko over your shoulders, you all sit down around a camp fire on the beach for dinner. You and Zuko offer to collect the plates and take them back up to the house.
"You did good in training today." He says as he takes the plates from your hands and places them on the counter.
You let out a small laugh.
"Well I would assume I did considering the amount of times I was able to flip you."
He rolls his eyes and you take this moment to admire him.
His hair falls in perfect strands across his forehead, his golden eyes reflect the light of the setting sun peeping through the window, his skin is soft as you place your hand on his.
He looks at you confused when he feels your touch.
"You did good, too." You say softly.
He smiles at this, looking down at your hand that was still on his.
"How do you see me?" He asks, breaking the peaceful silence.
"What do you mean?"
"What am I in your eyes?"
You think for a moment, pondering how your answer.
"You're a person who has made many mistakes." You begin, making his shoulders droop a little bit. "But you are also a person trying to make up for all of those mistakes. You're a kid, a kid who has been through a lot. Yet, you're still sweet and funny and kind and loyal. You try to hide how you feel, but I can still see every emotion you have in your actions. You're trying. And for that, I think you are amazing. That is who you are in my eyes."
He doesn't say anything for a moment, making you feel nervous about how he would react.
With a million thoughts racing through his mind, he decides not to say anything. You said that his actions meant more, so he spoke with an action.
He gently placed his hand on your cheek and leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away at any second. But you don't.
His lips meet yours in a soft kiss, his hair tickling your cheek. You smile into his kiss making him smile as well. Your arms wrap around his neck and you pull him closer as he pulls away from the kiss. You rest you foreheads against each other, catching your breath.
"I think I like you." He says, making you laugh.
"Oh shut up." You say and lean in for another kiss.
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pucksandpower · 7 months
Note
hiii! with the chaos that was today’s career, could I request one with driver reader that she started telling her team that she wasn’t feeling good but still wanted to continue but the next moment she isn’t answering her radio because she fainted in the car and the car goes out, the marshals take her out of the car and she doesn’t wake up, maybe she has extreme dehydration and is hot to touch, etc.
How the other drivers react when they found out, her team, etc.
Thank you
Too Hot To Handle
Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader
Summary: the Qatar Grand Prix pushed every driver to the limit … and some past the limit
Warnings: heat stroke, dehydration, crash, medical conditions
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The Lusail International Circuit hums with electric anticipation, its asphalt ribbon shimmering under the floodlights. The roar of the crowd fills the night but the oppressive heat weighs on everyone, creating a contrasting atmosphere of excitement and cautious apprehension.
Standing alongside your Red Bull Racing car, you wipe a bead of sweat from your brow. In only your first year with the reigning double champions, you already have a record that has quickly become the talk of the paddock. But for all the praise and whispers, there is one voice that stands out.
“Remember, liefje, it’s not just about speed tonight. Keep hydrated, alright?” Max’s voice is full of warmth and concern. His hand rests gently on your arm.
You flash him a confident smile even though you’re battling your nerves internally. “I’ve raced in heat before, Maxie. I won in Singapore. I’ll be fine.”
He pulls you into a quick embrace, the temperature doing little to dampen the spark between you. “It’s different here. This heat ... it’s like nothing I’ve ever raced in before.”
Pulling back, you raise an eyebrow teasingly. “You worried about me, Verstappen?”
He laughs but there’s a hint of steely seriousness in his blue eyes. “Always. Just ... promise me you’ll be careful out there. For both our sakes.”
You nod, touching your helmet to his. “Promise.”
The intercom in your ear crackles to life. “Drivers, to your cars!”
You both exchange a final glance. Racing is in your blood, it’s what brought you together, but it also keeps you apart, if only for the few hours you’re no longer partners in life but competitors on track.
Sliding into your car, you secure your helmet and gloves. The world outside becomes a bit muffled but your focus sharpens. The engine’s purr is a familiar comfort, but tonight, it’s edged with the unease Max’s words left behind.
Your race engineer, Hugh Bird, checks in over the radio, “Everything good, Y/N?”
You take a deep breath, “As good as it’ll ever be. Let’s light up this track.”
“Give them a show.”
Lights out and away we go.
***
The Qatar Grand Prix unfolds with its usual mix of intensity and skill, drivers navigating tight turns and overtaking with precision. But beneath the spectacle, a subtle tension mounts. The oppressive heat, the stark floodlights, and the weight of expectation — all of it seems to be building to something.
In the garage and on the pit wall, your team closely monitors the race and your performance. Hugh occasionally chimes in with updates, “You’re doing great, Y/N. Remember to hydrate whenever you need to.”
You nod even though he can’t see it, “Understood. The heat’s something else in here.”
A pause. Then, “Just keep stead. And Max told GP to tell me to tell you to remember what he said.”
A smile touches your lips, “I always do.”
***
The track is a blur as you push your car to its limits, feeling the adrenaline surge in tandem with the roar of the engines. It’s as if the heat has seeped into your very core, burning with intensity. Each lap feels slightly longer, every turn a tad sharper, as the humid air takes its toll.
“Y/N,” Hugh radioes through, sounding distant and slightly distorted by the pounding in your head, “you’re P2. Great pace. Remember to sip some water.”
A trickle of sweat runs down the side of your face, stinging your eye. Blinking rapidly, you reach for the button that activates your hydration system.
“Got it,” your voice sounds foreign even to your own ears. The water is lukewarm and tastes metallic, not as refreshing as you had hoped.
“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” he urges.
With every lap, the world outside your visor seems to grow brighter, the floodlights shimmering like mirages in a desert. The race has become a battle, not just against other drivers but against the environment and, increasingly, against yourself.
“You’re dropping pace. Is everything alright?” Hugh’s concerned voice crackles through.
A knot tightens in your stomach. “I don’t know. I ...” You trail off, the words catching in your throat as a wave of overwhelming dizziness hits.
You can hear the alarm in your engineer’s voice becoming more pronounced. “Y/N, talk to me. Do we need to pit?”
The heat wraps around you, constricting, making it difficult to breathe. Your hands, slick with sweat, struggle to grip the wheel even through your gloves. “Guys ... I don’t ... feel ...” The world spins and your words falters.
“Y/N? Y/N, talk to me!”
But before you can respond, before you can even finish your sentence, the world tilts and blurs into an incomprehensible whirlwind. The sweltering heat, the relentless pursuit of victory, and the weight of expectation converge into a maelstrom that engulfs you entirely.
Your hands, once deftly steering the RB19, now hang limply by your sides. The car veers off the track, careening towards the barriers. Panic rises in you but it’s too late. Your body refuses to act.
The deafening sound of metal against metal fills your ears, followed by the nauseating sensation of impact. The world outside your cockpit twists and spins, a kaleidoscope of colors and chaos. Then, abruptly, it all goes dark.
In the garage, your team watches in horror as the monitors show the violent crash. The radio falls silent, the connection severed. In that heartbeat, the world goes eerily quiet, punctuated only by the distant echoes of screeching tires and the blaring alarms.
Moments pass like hours and finally the static on the radio clears, replaced by your frantic race engineer, “—please respond. Y/N? Are you okay?”
But there’s no response. Your world remains shrouded in darkness as the circuit comes to a standstill, gripped by an eerie silence that drowns out even the most deafening of cheers.
The track is plunged into chaos. Red flags wave fervently, signaling danger. Marshals rush towards your wrecked car, their fluorescent jackets contrasting brightly against the night.
“Get her out! Get her out!” One of the marshals shouts as they reach your car. Your limp form is carefully extracted and they begin immediate first aid. The severity of the situation is clear — the heat, the dehydration, it’s all taken its toll.
The crowd watches, a collective gasp filling the air soon replaced by a thick, heavy silence. As your unconscious form is stretchered away, the weight of all those warnings crashes down.
Back on the pit wall, four words whispered into the radio are the first of many about to turn your boyfriend’s world upside down.
“Safety car, safety car.”
***
“Max, we’re pitting this lap. Box, box,” the calm, steady voice of Gianpiero Lambiase, Max’s race engineer, instructs over the radio.
Max’s voice is curt, his mind still on the race. “Why? Tires feel fine.”
“Non-negotiable. Safety car is out. We need you to pit now.”
The urgency in GP’s voice is not lost on Max and he immediately senses that something is wrong. “What happened? Why is there a safety car?”
Silence follows for a heartbeat too long. “There was an incident. Just focus on your race.”
An icy dread seeps into Max’s bones. The circuit is massive yet his world feels terribly small at this moment. “Who was it? Who crashed?”
His engineer hesitates, and in that pause, the weight of a thousand possibilities presses on Max.
“Who. Was. It?”
GP wavers, “It’s … Y/N.”
Max’s breathing becomes ragged. Panic and fear flood his system. “Why the hell wasn’t I told immediately?”
“It was team orders. The decision was made to keep you focused on the race.”
Max laughs but it lacks any humor. “Team orders? You’re saying Christian decided not to tell me that Y/N ... my Y/N is hurt?”
“Yes,” the reply is uncharacteristically soft, “It was believed to be in everyone’s best interest for you to be fully focused on the race.”
Max has never felt such white-hot rage. He spits into the radio, seething with fury and pain. “You tell Christian that if he ever makes a decision like that again about someone I love, I’ll cut his balls off with a rusty spoon.”
“Max, I understand you’re upset. But right now, we need you to stay focused.”
Stay focused? When the love of his life is in potential danger? The weight of what that means presses down, threatening to crush him. “I need to see her,” he finally rasps out, voice breaking.
The plea hangs in the air, met by another long silence. Finally, the radio clicks on again, softer than ever. “Y/N would want you to finish. You know that. Win this for her.”
Tears blur Max’s vision, mixing with the sweat already pooling in his helmet, but he nods, a silent assent. The roaring engine now sounds distant, the glinting lights a backdrop to the storm that rages within him. Every second is an eternity, every turn a test of his resolve to keep racing. But Max drives on, pushing his limits for you.
Every fiber of his being silently screams your name, a prayer or a promise or both, Max doesn’t know. All he knows is that the faster he crosses the finish line, the sooner he can be with you.
For the world watching, the race continues, cars whizzing by. But for Max Verstappen, each lap, each second, is a race against his own heart, torn between duty and desperate love.
***
“Her pulse is erratic! Get the defibrillator ready!” A medic shouts as the emergency team frantically works around you, the ambulance parked haphazardly nearby.
Another voice, calmer but filled with urgency, counters, “Wait, give her a moment. She might come around.”
“Come on, Y/N,” A young medic mutters, pressing an oxygen mask to your face. “Don’t do this.”
The ambulance door opens again, the head medic speaking into a radio, “We need an airlift, now. The situation’s deteriorating rapidly.”
Another voice, muffled, replies, “The helicopter’s on its way! Clear the area.”
As the medics continue to administer aid, working desperately to stabilize you, the chief medic tries to maintain order, “Every second counts. This heat stroke is severe, coupled with dehydration ... it’s a nightmare scenario.”
“We should have had more cooling stations,” the younger medic mutters. “The humidity coupled with the heat ... it’s brutal tonight. And we’re not even the ones out there driving.”
The older medic takes a deep breath. “That is on the organizations. We can’t fix there mistakes but we can focus on what happening now and do everything we can to get her through this.”
The thrum of helicopter blades soon overwhelms the noise of the circuit, growing louder as it approaches. Soon, the bright light from its landing spotlight punctuates the night. “The helicopter’s here!” Someone shouts.
“Alright, team, on three,” the chief medic commands. They work in perfect sync, lifting you carefully but quickly, your body still unresponsive.
As they approach the helicopter, the pilot shouts over the roar, “We’ve got the best onboard. She’s in good hands.”
“She’s one of our best,” the younger medic shouts back. “She has to be okay.”
The chief medic, securing you inside, murmurs more to himself than anyone else, “Come on, Y/N. The race isn’t over. Keep fighting.”
***
“You expect me to smile and stand on that podium knowing she’s been airlifted to a hospital?” Max’s voice trembles with rage as he confronts the FIA officials blocking his way.
“Mr. Verstappen, there are rules, procedures,” an official replies stiffly.
“Rules? Y/N might be fighting for her life right now and you want to talk to me about rules?” Max’s hands clench and unclench as he physically holds himself back from throwing a punch.
Another official steps forward, trying to mediate, “Max, we understand your feelings but millions of viewers are watching. The podium is an essential part of the race.”
Max’s eyes flash with anger. “You think I care about a trophy when my girlfriend is in a hospital? Do you really think that piece of metal means anything to me right now?”
“We sympathize— ” the first official begins but is cut off by Max’s heated response.
“You sympathize? Do you even know what that word means?” He’s on the verge of breaking, voice barely above a whisper as he continues, “She is everything to me. Everything. And you want me to smile and wave for the cameras?”
The air grows thick with tension. The two drivers from McLaren waiting for their cue to go to the podium are silent, their eyes darting between Max and the officials.
A new voice interjects , “Let him go.”
It’s Lewis Hamilton, who despite DNFing early in the race, made his way across the paddock after seeing the distress on his rival’s face. “There are things more important than a ceremony.”
The officials exchange glances, clearly not expecting this intervention. But before they can reply, Max levels them with a final scathing look. “Fine me if you must! Penalize me! Suspend me for all I care! But I am going to her.”
And off he goes.
***
A nurse at the desk recognizes Max immediately when he runs into the hospital. “Mr. Verstappen,” she begins hesitantly, “Miss Y/L/N is in the ICU. Room 302.”
He doesn’t need any further prompting to sprint down the hall. Reaching the room, he stops dead in his tracks. You’re there, surrounded by machines that beep and whirr, tubes running to and from you, an oxygen mask on your face. The sight of you, once so full of life, now frail and vulnerable, breaks him.
His voice, when he finally managed to finds it, is a choked whisper, “Y/N ...”
Approaching the bedside, Max gently takes your hand, feeling its clamminess. “Hey, liefje ... it’s me,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. His tears fall freely, wetting the back of your hand.
“Come on, love,” his voice cracks as he continues, “You’ve got to pull through this. For us.”
He brushes a strand of hair from your face, tracing the familiar curves and lines he’s come to adore. “Remember that time in Monaco? When we snuck out for that secret dinner that our trainers would have killed us for? We promised each other forever that night. You can’t leave me now. Not when we’ve got so many more memories left to make.”
The room’s silence is punctuated only by the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor in a cruel reminder of the fragility of the moment.
“I love you so much,” he murmurs. “Please ... please come back to me.”
Leaning in, he rests his forehead against yours, allowing the weight of his anguish, love, and hope to flow between the two of you in the sterile room.
***
Nothing has changed. The steady beep of the heart monitor still punctuates the silence of the hospital room. Max sits vigilantly at your bedside, his hand gently clasping yours.
It’s been three days since the crash and you still have not woken up. The doctors say your condition is stable but uncertain.
Max leans in close and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Morning, liefje. I’m still here. Not going anywhere.”
He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch impossibly gentle as if you might break. In the stark hospital lighting, the dark circles under his eyes are visible. Sleep hasn’t come easy to him, not with you lying here.
A soft knock at the door draws Max’s attention. Hugh pokes his head in hesitantly. “Hey, Max. Any change?”
Max shakes his head, swallowing hard. “Nothing yet. But she’s fighting. I know she is.”
Your race engineer steps further into the room, his expression solemn. “I should have seen the signs earlier. Pushed her to hydrate more. Slowed her pace.” His voice catches, “It was my job to look out for her.”
“This wasn’t your fault,” Max says firmly. “Y/N is stubborn. We both know that. She wanted to prove herself.” A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “It’s what makes her brilliant.”
Hugh pulls up a chair on the opposite side of the bed. For a moment, the two men sit in pensive silence. Then your race engineer speaks again, softer this time. “Has she ... has she responded at all? Squeezed your hand or anything?”
Max clenches his jaw and stares past Hugh at the blank wall. “No. Nothing yet. But I know she can hear me. I tell her about training, the team ... I update her on everything. She’ll want to jump right back in when she wakes up.”
Footsteps approach and a nurse enters, checking the equipment and your vitals. After making some notes on a chart, she offers an encouraging smile. “No change but she seems stable. Just keep talking to her. Familiar voices help.”
After she departs, Hugh leans forward, clasping your still hand. “Hear that, Y/N? You’ve got to wake up. The team needs you. Your fans are all rooting for you. And ...” His voice cracks. “I need my driver back.”
Max looks at him gratefully. “We all need her back.” Reaching out, he gives your race engineer’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.
Another knock sounds. This time, it’s Christian. His face is etched with guilt and worry. “Max. Any improvement today?”
Max’s expression hardens. He hasn’t forgotten Christian’s decision to withhold news of your crash. But his voice remains even as he responds to the team principal. “Nothing new.”
Christian pulls up a chair next to Hugh. He chooses his next words carefully. “Max, I need to apologize. I made the wrong call that night. You deserved to know immediately about Y/N. My priorities were skewed.” His voice shakes slightly. “Seeing her like this ... I would give anything to go back and change what I did.”
Max studies him for a long moment and some of the hardness leaves his eyes. “I appreciate that. But right now, the past doesn’t matter. All that matters is her getting better.”
Christian nods. Reaching out, he gently smoothes your hair. “You hear that, Y/N? We’re all here for you. Your whole team. Now you need to come back to us.”
A heavy silence settles on the room once more. The three of them remain clustered around the bed … keeping vigil … willing you to show any small sign of recovery.
After some time passes, the ringing of Hugh’s phone snaps the three men out of their thoughts. “Sorry to interrupt,” your press officer’s voice filters through the speaker, “but the team’s on the line. They want to send their well wishes to Y/N.”
Hugh glances at Max questioningly who nods, “Patch them through. Let the whole team remind her why she needs to wake up.”
A smile tugs at your race engineer’s lips. “You got it. Go ahead, team. She can hear you.”
A chorus of voices floods the room. Your mechanics, pit crew, strategists, PR team … everyone chimes in with encouraging messages.
“Come on, Y/N! We need our star girl back on the grid.”
“You can do this, kid. You’re the toughest one out there!”
“We all believe in you. Keep fighting!”
Max grips your hand tighter, emotions threatening to spill over. Even Christian and Hugh have sheens of tears in their eyes.
“Alright,” your race engineer says after the team signs off. “You heard them. Time to wake up.”
And that’s when Max feels it. A short, weak squeeze of his hand.
Then your eyelids begin to flutter.
“Y/N?” Max leaps to his feet, leaning over you anxiously. “Can you hear me?”
Slowly, painfully, your eyes open, taking in the scene around you. Confusion clouds your expression. “M-Max?” You rasp.
A brilliant smile breaks across Max’s face. Relief floods through him so powerful that his knees nearly buckle as he chokes out, “Yes, yes it’s me! You’re back, liefje. You’re really back.”
Hugh lets out a shaky laugh, scrubbing a hand across his face. “Welcome back, superstar.”
You try to speak again but Max hushes you gently. “Save your strength. We’ve got all the time in the world to talk.”
Christian grins, looking years younger. “Oh thank god. I need to tell the team. They’ll be thrilled. Welcome back, Y/N.” He hurries from the room, phone already in hand.
Your race engineer squeezes your shoulder. “Get some rest. We’ll all be here when you wake up.”
As he and the nurse move discreetly out of the room, you gaze up at Max. “You ... you stayed.”
Max lifts your hand to his lips, blinking back tears. “Of course I stayed. I’ll always stay by your side.”
He leans down, pressing his lips against your chapped ones. All the fear, the uncertainty, the heartache of the past few days melts away.
You’re back. You’re really back. And Max knows, without a shred of doubt, that your lives from this day on will be greater and more meaningful than all your wildest dreams.
***
In the following days, drivers from across the grid make the pilgrimage to your hospital room. They come bearing gifts — flowers, balloons, even a nearly life-size plush race car. But more importantly, they come bearing a message.
“That race should never have happened,” Lewis says solemnly, handing you a get-well card covered in signatures. “The heat was dangerous. We should have acted sooner.”
Esteban grips your hand tightly. “I’m sorry, Y/N. We should have spoken up about the conditions sooner. We all suffered but you suffered most.”
“Your crash woke us all up,” Lance adds. “No trophy is worth risking drivers’ safety even more than we already do each race.”
You’re moved by their solidarity but sigh knowingly. “The FIA would never have listened to just one driver saying something. But maybe they’ll listen to all of us.”
Max’s jaw clenches, residual anger simmering beneath the surface. “They have to listen. We won’t race in unsafe conditions again.”
The other drivers nod, They know the power that you all wield together and for the first time in a long time, you are going to use it.
In a show of outspoken unity, the GPDA drafts a strongly worded letter condemning the lack of caution around extreme heat and demanding tangible changes to make sure drivers aren’t put in avoidable jeopardy.
All twenty of you threaten to strike.
To your surprise, the FIA not only apologizes for the oversight but pledges to implement the requested changes immediately.
“Your crash was a wake-up call,” the FIA president says solemnly during a visit to your hospital room. “We should have protected you better. That will never happen again.”
When he departs, you let out a long breath, leaning back against the pillows. The anger and hurt from that night haven’t disappeared entirely but you feel a sense of hope, that some good has come from the experience.
Max clasps your hand between both of his. “What you went through is unacceptable but you used that to make the sport safer for every driver out there. I’m so proud of you.”
You give him a tired smile. “We did this together. All of us.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Get some rest. When you’re better, we’ve got plenty more checkered flags to take. Side by side.”
The long road to full recovery still lies ahead. But with Max by your side, and all the drivers behind you, you know everything will be okay.
The race goes on but it will be a safer race thanks to you.
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 7 months
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Simon screwing you in the shower.
The warm water dripped over your bodies like rain, coating everything inside of the shower with a layer of wetness. Sealed inside the oasis, a thick layer of heavy condensation filled the air, making all that you touched from each other to the walls slick.
Simon's large hand dug into your hip, making sure he had a good, strong grip on your thigh that he held up against his side so that he could thrust inside you easily.
Your hand was pressed against the foggy glass of the shower door, using it as a bit of leverage to keep you steady while those wide, muscular hips of his ground into your own as they rolled his cock into your pussy over and over again.
"Fuckin' hell," that husky voice hit your ears over the sound of the running water. His raw lips had just disconnected from around the tender flesh of your neck to move higher up towards your ear as he left a trail of burning kisses all along the moist surface.
Head back as he worked his magic, you felt him hum into your skin, his hips never loosing speed as he kept that's delirious rhythm steady on. "Cannot get enough of ya," he growled. "Even when I'm inside ya, I need more. I'm fuckin desperate, luv. Goddamn desperate."
Two beefy arms shoved you back suddenly as Simon pulled out of you, making you hit the back wall with a light thud as your body bounced off of it, but quickly you were scooped back up as he wrapped those arms back around your waist to hoist you up, making you throw your legs around him to hold on.
"Goddammit, I can't take it, need more... now," the desperation in his tone made your legs vibrate. Your clit twinged as he moved in and caught your lips with his own, squatting down so that he could realign his cock with your entrance and strike back up into you in one smooth motion.
All this wet, all this warmth, all this tepid flesh at his disposal, that only made the primal part of himself gain full control. As your bodies slipped and slid across each other, your back pressed firmly against the shower wall as your tits were pressed into his chest, he could do nothing more that rut into you like some beast hell bent on getting what was his.
His pace caught right back up to where it was seconds before, not a moment to spare. "You've put me under a spell, ya bitch," he grunted with the force of his thrusts. "I can't stop fuckin' pining for this tight little pussy. Gonna go fuckin' mad."
Your forearms wrapped around his broad shoulders as you held on while he bucked wildly in and out of you. The muscles in his back contracted and released under your fingertips, another sign of just how desperately rough his movements were.
His flesh was on fire, burning for you and only you, and even the water from the shower head was no help in taming it's flames. There was a part of him that worried he would not be able to stop until he had completely devoured everything inch of you; that was how strong his need was.
"Mine," he claimed aloud as you whimpered into his shoulder, his cock hitting that specific bundle of nerve ending inside you. "You're all mine, sweetheart. Ya got that? I can't fuckin' stand the thought of anyone else havin' ya, ever."
"Yes," you breathed, "say it again baby."
He smirked. "You're mine, mine. No one else can ever fuckin' touch ya. I ain't ever sharin' all this beauty."
A blanket of steamy air surrounded you both as the hot warm continued to pour in, locking out the entire world from the inside of the shower so it felt you were a million miles away. To be in such a place, in the throws of passion as Simon declared his claim to you, it was all so overwhelming that your body ached lustfully for release.
Fingernails dug into his back as the last bits of your sanity had you clinging on for dear life, the raw lines across his shoulder blades stinging from the water pouring down the contours of his back. "Goddamn, I just wanna keep my cock buried in you foreva," he hissed at your delicious roughness as your hips rolled over him, the pressure nearly at its peak. You were panting like a bitch in heat and he was doing everything he could to push you over the edge.
Pumping in and out of you with everything he had, his head wandered down the front of your chest as he squat down a little more, his mouth hungrily searching for it's prize. Finally he is able to reach your tit and greedily he took the nipple into his mouth, sucking on the supple flesh as the tip of his tongue rolled around the silk smooth areola.
God your soft breast felt like heaven in between his lips, the damned flesh so juicy. He had to press his body even harder into your own to keep you from slipping, but it was worth it just to keep your tit locked in his mouth.
"Fuck, Simon," you moaned, your fingers running up the back on his neck to his head where you tangled them into his short, wet locks. That mouth was making you vibrate as the sensation of suction sent shocks of pleasure tingling down your spine.
Not one to ever leave any man behind, Simon unlatched from the first breast to give the other the same amount of attention. It was all too much, the pumping between your legs mixed with the tingling sensation at your breasts, and that heated pressure began gathering in the pit of your stomach, about to violently through you off.
Your hips ground more into him, he knows that telltale sign that you are close. Amber eyes met yours again as he moved back up to his full height; he needed to see it, the look in your eyes as you come.
"I know you're close, luv," he says assuredly. "That's it sweetheart, come for me. Come all over my fuckin' cock. Goddammit I need you to come for me...so bad..."
Simon had to have it, you orgasm; he needed to know that your body responded to his in that very precise way that would make sure you'd never stray. He desperately needed to be the one to get you off. And as he staved off his own orgasm, he would.
"Don't stop," you begged as your head fell back against the wall... as if Simon would ever even dream of such a thing.
"Not until your legs are fuckin' quakin', sweetheart."
His thighs were burning with shooting pain as he continued to squat under you, but he didn't stop; it was worthy any amount of discomfort to see you come completely undone.
Your fingers in his hair clenched down, yanking wildly at his hair as with a few more precise thrusts that warmth finally shot through your torso and you rocked forward against with a cry.
"A-ah... f-f-fuck..." you stammered as your orgasm shook through you.
"That's it," Simon coaxed you through it, "ride it all the fuckin' way with me, luv...almost there..."
And not even a few seconds more he followed suit, a gravely roar ripping through his chest as he milked himself completely dry, his body convulsing with the strength of his ejaculation; fuck did you always make him come so hard.
"G-goddamn..." he said through heavy breaths, his soaking head coming to rest with it's forehead against your shoulder.
He did not let you go until you had both calmed, just letting the sound of the running water and your breathing lull you both back down. Picking up his head from your body, he laid a breathless kiss up on your lips, his face resting against your own from sheer exhaustion.
"Told ya you'd fuckin' enjoy it," he said, playful smile plastered to those full lips.
Carefully he set you back on your feet, your legs wobbling tiredly from the exertion. "You could make me enjoy anything," you admitted freely. "We'll have to do it again sometime."
Simon's fingers twirled the loose, wet strands of your hair between them. "You got it wrong, luv, ya see it's you that could make me enjoy any fuckin' thing. My beautiful girl, I'd have a right ol time in hell if you were the one to take me there."
His large hand lingered against your cheek, his thumb stroking the soft, supple skin. "You've got me fuckin' whipped, sweetheart, and I am more than fine to keep it that way."
He held you close, peppering your cheeks with stray kisses as he moved you both back fully under the shower head, ready to clean up the delicious mess he had just made.
7K notes · View notes
ervotica · 4 months
Text
fix your head
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pairing; perv!stepbro!rafe cameron x fem!stepsister!reader
warnings; stepcest, smut 18+ only, fingering, p in v sex, somnophilia, free use kink
a/n; just been having brainrot abt stepbro!rafe so here’s a lil drabble/thot abt him! (yes i am insane)
A rough palm presses to the small of your back as the covers lift, a chill twining around your suddenly exposed skin that has goosebumps raising even in slumber. You whine, brows scrunching as lax fingers loop around his wrist and you twist further into the sheets. Your eyes open and desperately try to acclimatise to the darkness of your bedroom, but all you can decipher is a looming silhouette that begins to crawl on top of your slack body.
"Shh, shh," Rafe soothes. His breath is hot against your prickling face. "'S just me. Go back to sleep. Just g'na fix your head a little."
"Mm, okay." You settle once you realise it's only your stepbrother, eyes fluttering closed once more. His touch immediately has your pert nipples hardening, the soft sheets beneath you enough stimulation to make you squirm even in your half-asleep state.
Bruising fingers curl around your hips, lifting them until your back arches and your face smushes into the pillows beneath you; he makes light work of your panties, pushing them to the side as his big palms knead the fatty flesh of your bum.
A finger sinks into your weeping hole and you gasp, pushing back into the touch as he curls it just right to rub over your g-spot. Your gummy walls contract at the newfound pleasure and an arm flies back in seek of purchase against Rafe's wrist.
"I know, I know," he coos, slipping in another digit and picking up the pace until the delicious friction has you stifling moans into the sheets. "Keep quiet for me, kid. Wouldn't want your mom finding us, would we?"
The feeling of fullness is gone as quickly as it appeared and you're still for a few moments, features crumpling in vexation.
"Don't get bratty on me now, you little shit," he chuckles, watching as your face falls once more when he lines his mushroom head up with your drooling entrance. You garble and gasp as your cunt parts and flares around him, fluttering walls hugging him and moulding to the shape of his curved cock.
Fingers splay against the base of your neck, effectively silencing you as he starts to rock his hips; fingernails dig into the delicate flesh there and you whimper, tears tickling at your waterline as he presses you further into the pillow to keep you quiet.
"Got this pussy trained f'me, haven't I, kid? Attagirl, nice and quiet for me."
He twines an open palm into the length of your hair and tugs to reveal your blissed visage, watching with rapture as your expression changes the more he toys with you.
You squeak as he reaches down to pinch and roll your swollen clit between two fingertips, teeth baring into a growl when he clasps a merciless hand over your whining mouth.
"I told you to be fuckin' quiet, slut. Too much of a whore to take it nicely, hm? Too ungrateful?"
You shake your head vehemently, tears pooling at the base of his fingers as his thrusts pick up speed, head of his cock kissing every spot inside of you until you can't think of anything but how good he's making you feel.
He wrenches his hand free and you sag like dead weight, a punched breath of air expelling from your lungs with every cruel rut of his hips.
"There's my girl," he croons with a wicked smile, satisfied now you're fucked too dumb to do anything but drool onto the pillows beneath you. "You just, relax, kid. I'll be finished with you soon.”
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eumivrse · 3 months
Text
ON A TIME CRUNCH !
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content having sex under a time constraint! stressful, isn’t it?
featuring gojo, geto, nanami, toji, higuruma
warnings semi public sex (nanami and higuruma), deepthroat (geto), gojo is a tease (as always), belt as a restraint + very rough sex (higuruma), fem oral + mention of rose toy lol (toji), slight spanking, a lot of clit stimulation, unprotected sex with all of them whoops!! and the reader does pee after, just not mentioned ;0
note it took me two hours to proofread this and it’s now past 4am LOL i am tired
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GOJO
“satoru….” you mewl, nails clawing on his biceps. he has your back against the front door of your shared apartment, his cock stretching your walls ever so slightly. his sweats are hanging just down his mid thighs, too hasty to take a second to shed them right off.
you weren’t going to deny— it’s been a week and a half since you and satoru were able to have some alone, intimate time together. long story short, you were on your way out the door to go to an important job interview for a promotion that you’ve been wanting. your boyfriend kissed you good luck, but that kiss turned into a heated makeout session which ultimately escalated into him being inside of you.
somehow.
he hikes your pencil skirt up, your panties peeled to the side to let his cock slip inside your cunt with ease. the mild burning stretch of your walls due to the lack of foreplay and him fucking into you raw was driving your mind in circles, although you still tried to stand your ground. “please— i have to go now or i’ll be late.” but it really is so hard to resist when he’s hitting all the right spots, his hand wrapped around your neck with his fingers pressing hard enough to have your pussy begging for more as much as you’d like to say otherwise. you shot a quick glance towards the kitchen clock with half lidded eyes, revealing that you have a good 25 minutes to get there on time.
the problem just lies with the fact that it takes 20 minutes to travel there alone.
satoru pants with each thrust, “just another minute or two, babe,” he leans in, closing his eyes and clashing his lips against yours, transferring the tint you applied on your lips to his. with his chest pressed against yours, he keeps you from collapsing, his free hand gripping onto the plump of your ass. he bites your lip, evoking a whine from you as he parts, huffing short breaths against your open mouth. “gotta make sure you’re all relaxed before your interview.”
the air was so hot between the two of you; you were starting to feel dizzy, the coil in your stomach just waiting to be snapped the rougher satoru would thrust into you, his tip getting closer to tap on that g-spot. you stammer, your head slamming back against the wooden door from the overbearing pleasure going on in between your legs, “f-fuck, just hurry up please…”
your frantic pleas were only encouraging satoru to increase his hips in speed, the wet slaps of his cock plunging into you more prominent while he removed his hand from your neck and onto squeezing your clothed breast— wrinkling the fabric that you took the time to iron neatly last night. you could just whine, too dumb on his cock to say anything that wouldn’t pass on as gibberish.
he strikes a harsh slap on your ass, then massages the sting right off using his palm with light squeezes. satoru groans, trying to help by hurrying you to your impending orgasm, sneaking his hand under to flick at your swollen clit. heat rushed up to your cheeks as you dug your nails deeper on his arms, leaving crescent-shaped marks all on his lithe skin. “fuck yeah… that oughta get you cumming now,” he snickers, followed with a grunt when he felt your walls clench around him as the pad of his index finger grazed your clit in irregular patterns. your ass hit the door with a bang! each time he slammed into you, hoping that you don’t get a noise complaint from this.
you were getting annoyed at his little cheeky comments this point, but your body felt like it was floating, his dick far up enough that you could feel the raw texture of it grazing the spot that got your thighs shaking like a leaf, bottom lip jutted out into a pout, “toru— ah— you’re so—“ your palms are curled into fists, arms now wrapping around him to jab punches on his back as your body jolts with every thrust. you sucked in your breath for a moment before you rolled your hips, riding out your high by grinding your clit against his finger, your pussy getting tighter and warmer for him.
you crumple your fingers onto the back of his black compression shirt, pushing him further against you. as much as he’d like to hold out his orgasm and slack his hips to make it more intense, the moral part of him convinced him that you actually have to leave now. plus, it wasn’t helping that your cunt was squeezing on him so deliciously that it was milking him with no resistance, shooting his heavy load deep inside you.
he kept a firm grip on your ass and your boob, wishing he could take your button up off to see your perky nipples, but decided against it for obvious reasons. satoru wanted to say something, implied by the way his mouth parted, but was interrupted with a moan when you felt his warm cum paint your walls, a drop seeping down your inner thigh. “fuck, that’s it, pretty girl. milk my cock f’me just like that,” he mumbles softly as if he was talking to himself.
your senses came back to you when he pulled out, giving you a quick peck on the lips before hooking his fingers on the garter of his sweats to pull it back up. “agh! you’re crazy, my outfit and makeup are all ruined!” you couldn’t see yourself but you could just imagine your mascara is all over your under-eyes now, lipstick smeared on your cheek. your clothes are also disheveled, a huge spot on your button up top is folded with wrinkles, not to mention the mess in between your legs that will take way too long to clean up in the restroom.
satoru sighs jokingly as he pulls your skirt back down to cover you, patting on it to get rid of any crumples. “get yourself a new shirt and bring your makeup bag with you too.” he’s smiling wide, like a bulb just lit up above his head.
“why?” you raise an eyebrow, although you do admit a lot of your prior anxiety has been lifted off your shoulders. your chest feels lighter somehow even though you normally would be panicking right now.
satoru takes your purse from the ground, slipping his hand in to search for your car keys. when he finds it, he swings them in front of you and you roll your eyes, giggling at his foolishness. “you gotta be there soon, no? i’ll drive you while you get ready.” he winks.
“you’re so stupid.”
he sticks his tongue out before opening the front door, “and i love you!”
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GETO
you had planned for a few of your mutual friends to come over to you and suguru’s place for dinner. you were in a frenzy, trying to get your boyfriend in the zone with you to make sure every spot in the house is clean and ready. he was compliant, your apartment was a mess due to no time to clean for the past few days. he knew hosting was something you took seriously even if it was just for a casual gathering, so you were satisfied when he kept the same energy alongside you.
you had 15 minutes to spare after everything was ready. suguru intended on spending that time by relaxing; his back was starting to kill him like he’s a senile old man, but to his surprise, you had other plans in mind.
“oh— baby, you don’t have to do this.” he laughs, his face crimson from having your lips wrapped so firm against his cock. you run your tongue just right along the prominent vein protruding through the length, and he was fighting the urge to thrust his hips up for his tip to prod against the back of your throat. you were on your knees as he sat on the foot of the mattress, his palms rested on the sheets.
your intention was to reward him for being such a good boyfriend; he deserves it after doing everything you asked of him and beyond. even if you were being demanding.
you breathe air in through your nose as your mouth inched closer and closer towards the hilt, closing your eyes from the stinging tears threatening to patter down your lash line. you wrap your hand below your mouth and around his cock in a c-shape, slow strokes provoking heavenly curses rolling past his lips. your unoccupied hand was sneaked under the space between your legs, teasing yourself by sticking two fingers up, grinding your clothed crotch against it. your wet saliva dribbled down your chin, the sight of you with your mouth full of his dick only turning suguru on even further.
you're practically gargling around him from the lack of air in your throat, your little whimpers vibrating straight through his cock as you continue to take more of him. suguru has his hand on top of your head, his way of guiding you carefully down to the base of his cock, but his patience was starting to run thin.
he groans, his other hand slapping over his mouth, slightly startled and ashamed at how loud that was. “baby, ngh— aren’t they going to be here soon?” as much as he wants to cum and continue this by being inside you, he was trying to be rational. although it was clear his body was longing for this. you just ignored him while you bob your head carefully. suguru’s impatience had taken over him and he lets his hips snap, thrusting his cock up far enough that it nearly punched the back of your throat.
you gag, your hand that was wrapped around him is now grasping on his thigh, slipping your mouth off his long cock and hacking out a cough from gasping too sharply, a string of saliva connecting your bottom lip and his tip. drool pooled on the wooden floor beneath you as you continue to rub your confined clit, your hand starting getting sore from trying to get yourself off just to be feeling dull from the barriers of your shorts and underwear.
you wrap your palm around his cock coated with your spit and his pre, wet rings forming on your hand. answering his question, your mouth is still adjusting from being so loose, “we have time, love. and you can’t cum until you’re inside me.”
you jerk your hand up and down, hunching down a bit to stick your tongue back out, flicking on the slit of his tip. looking up at him, you couldn’t help but smirk seeing his face and ears flush pink, eyes squinted in pure pleasure. suguru makes eye contact with you for a second, then transfers his gaze to the pathetic way you humped your fingers, your baby pink shorts making it easy for him to see the drenched spot of arousal on the fabric.
he sighs, having enough of this. “then hurry and spread your legs already.” he slouches down, reaching over and pulling you by the elbows, his strength letting him throw you on the bed behind him. turning around, he kneels in front of your body, all splayed for him as he aggressively grabs the garter of your shorts and underwear and yanks them off, tossing it to the pile on the ground where his sweats are.
you were fascinated at his change of tone, still with a smug smirk on your face as suguru crawled on top of you, his toned arms caging you in between. his fat cock rests in between your folds as he slides up and down, the head pressing on your clit that previously lacked well needed attention. you moan at the contact after being deprived for so long and after suguru thought that you were warmed up enough, he aligns himself to sheath inside of you, your cunt nearly engulfing him whole.
he grunts when he’d reach balls deep inside of you, your walls pulsating around him. “we can finish before they arrive, yeah?” with roughly 7 minutes left before time, he pushes the back of your thighs towards your chest, keeping you spread to allow you to feel how fucking well he’s splitting you open.
you could only respond with a whine, head falling back and digging on the pillow beneath you, hands gripping onto the plush and pulling it towards your face to suppress your moans.
he was concerned whether or not you’d be able to cum on time, but judging by your reaction from him barely being inside you and the fact that he’s not too far off from reaching his own high— he stopped worrying and threw his concerns out the window.
starting with easy, slow thrusts, he chuckles when you pressed the folded pillow against your face. “show me your face, baby. finish what you started.”
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NANAMI
“shh. can’t have them hearing you now, sweetheart. this is all for me,” kento nibbles on your ear as you have your back flush against his chest, on his lap with your legs being pried apart by his huge arms wrapped around you while he sits on the toilet. one of his hands are holding onto the back of your knee and the other is splitting your folds with his fingers in a v-shape as he nestles his fat cock past your hole and into your cunt.
this was quite uncomfortable, the space was small around you, with flimsy walls that enclosed the bathroom stall. you were afraid the toilet wasn’t going to be able to hold both of your weights, but nanami managed to shift his hips just enough to let his cock slip in and out of you with no problem. your ass was raised up for more allowance, skirt lifted to your tummy. if someone opens the stall right now, your frontal will be the first thing they see.
taking your 15s with kento has often been like this ever since you started dating on the down low to avoid gossip from your co-workers. it’s also difficult to spend time together outside of work discreetly, especially lately now that it’s been so busy. and what better way to spend 15 minutes of break instead of hearing your other coworkers talk shit about each other?
you mewl, voice weakened, “kento, how much time do we have before break is over?” your head falls backwards towards his shoulder and he leans his head a little to clash his lips against yours, closing your eyes to relish in the way he’s making you see stars already, letting his tongue enter your mouth to meet with yours. he swallows your moans; the kiss was so sloppy, a drop of saliva dripped down your chin and took shape on your collarbone.
it was hard not to squirm around him when he’s stretching you out so good, his nimble fingers collecting the slick that his cock would draw out of you the more he thrusts his hips. he parts abruptly, sticking his tongue out with a twine of saliva making a connection between the two of you. kento huffs and unravels one of his arms around you to check his wristwatch, one leg falling flat on his thigh. he mumbles, “4 minutes.”
“4 minutes?!” you repeat, voice bouncing off the walls. worry had started to take over your body and you wriggle your other leg to release yourself out of his constraint, which he was willing to let go— until the door to the bathroom hinges open. he was still inside of you and you swiftly allow him to conceal your legs from the open space beneath the stall by taking hold of the back of your knees in a butterfly spread, legs in the air. you cover your mouth with both your hands, pupils blown as you hear footsteps coming closer and closer to where you two are.
it just happened to be the day you decided to risk it and do it in the nearest male’s bathroom to your office as opposed to going all the way to kento’s car. you should’ve been surprised it took this long for someone to come in unwarranted.
the man was humming a song as he chose the stall next to you, and he sounded like one of your junior co-workers: ino takuma. you turn your head a bit to look at kento for some sort of reassurance and he mouths to you word for word, “let’s wait.” you nod sheepishly, mind now filled with uncertainty, yet still clouded with the thought of his dick buried inside you while someone else is just a few feet away.
you were all ears as ino unbuckled his belt, hearing a liquid stream shoot down the toilet. he notices that someone else is at the stall next to him, interrupting the song he was humming and asking with a hint of enthusiasm, “you okay over there?”
kento shimmies his hips, the feeling of his cock shifting in you almost making you gasp, which thankfully you were able to suppress with your palms. he clears his throat, “uh- yeah. i’m doing just fine.” you were being folded in half, knees pushed enough that it’s nearly against your chest, tits spilling out of your bra. kento looked up and realized that your clothes were still hanging over the wall partitioning the stalls between yours and ino’s as his own clothes were occupying the hooks behind the door. scooping your legs up with one arm, he reached his free one over to grab the garments which consisted of your sweater and your panties.
thankfully, ino didn’t seem to have noticed that, but for some reason he was taking his damn time in his stall. or maybe that’s just how it felt like to you.
ino chuckles, recognizing your boyfriend’s voice. “mr. nanami? you seem distressed, did the lunch ruin your stomach too?” your ears catch the sound of toilet paper whirring out of the dispenser, breath caught in the back of your throat as if he would be able to figure out that his two senior co-workers are screwing in the stall next to him just by your breath.
kento laughs nervously, quietly placing your clothes on the toilet dispenser next to you to free up his hand, then moving it so his fingers would be right over your clit, rubbing slow circles on it. you writhe on top of him, and he tightens his grip around you with his other arm to keep you from squirming. “y-yeah,” he stammers, “just a tad constipated,” he purses his lips, shaking his head in shame that he just admitted something so embarrassing even though it was a lie. ino leaves the stall with a click! and you can hear him washing his hands. “well, i hope you feel better soon, sir. i’ll let them know you’re not feeling well so take your time in there, okay?”
he must think this is some sick joke or something because kento started rocking his hips again, his cock plunging along your walls, the head pressing on your g-spot. kento grunts when you clench around him, tipping him over the edge, “… thanks ino.”
when you were sure that ino was gone after waiting a few seconds, you remove your hands from your mouth which now dripped with drool, letting yourself huff out loud. one hand was cupped on top of kento’s hand that worked on your clit while the other swung behind the back of his head to push his face close as you twist your head to give him a quick kiss. “m’ so close,” you mumble, lips paralyzed. “i want you to cum inside me…”
“okay baby, i got you.” kento couldn’t give a flying fuck how loud you were being now, screeching moans of his name and the wet sloppy way his cock would fuck into you— he swears he didn’t even realize you released just right before he did, cum dripping down his cock as it popped out, letting your sore legs loose. you shudder from the hollow feeling of him pulling out, sighing as you catch your breath.
you let your feet touch the ground, hands now placed on his knees for leverage as you stand back up. you turn around to see his body sheened with sweat, the buttons on his long sleeve top half undone. “are we going to make it on time?” you ask, although you had a sick feeling you’re already late. it wouldn’t have mattered so much if you didn’t have a meeting.
“about 30 seconds,” he pants as he starts to place his buttons back in its respective holes.
“ughhhh shit!” you curse, frantically pulling your skirt back down, trying to make the wrinkles look neat, then grabbing your panties to slip them back on. you catch kento staring at you and he laughs at himself, giving him a perplexed look in return for not being as antsy as you.
he mutters, “so cute.”
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TOJI
you’ve been saying no to having sex with toji ever since he pissed you off about eating a slice of cake you’ve been saving and fantasizing about all day. you specifically told him to leave that alone in the fridge before going to work, but lo and behold— you came home with it gone from its spot. he offered to buy another one, but that cake is a seasonal item from your local bakery, and you happened to get your hands on it on the last day it’s available, having to wait in line for 45 minutes.
toji thought you were being petty, but asked for your forgiveness anyways. you forgave, but you basically grounded him from touching you all week even though he tried to lure you in multiple times. it started from buying you a whole cake from the same bakery— although it was a different flavor. you appreciated the gesture and thanked him for it, but you stood your ground.
the second day he tried seducing you by taking his shirt off right after he came home from the gym. your eyes couldn’t contain itself from staring at the muscles on his back as he smirked to himself walking into your shared bedroom. it was a nice try, knowing that could get you riled up, but again, you planned to keep your word.
until the 3rd day hit and toji was fed up with it.
you were in bed facing him, eyes closed, getting ready to sleep when he suddenly says, “1 minute.”
eyes now half open, eyebrows scrunching in curiosity, you ask, “what are you talking about?”
he sighs with desperation in his tone, “if i can make you cum in one minute, you’ll stop this. please?” it’s rare that toji pleads to you like this, but it is a pretty big deal that you banned him from touching you considering how you’re both quite handsy with each other.
scoffing, you laugh at him, then puckering your lips in mockery, “1 minute? okay big boy, whatever you say.” but his bet doesn’t sound so bad when you’ve been just as needy the past 3 days, discreetly using your rose toy in the restroom pretending that it’s his lips sucking on your clit instead. you didn’t realize it’d be affecting you this much too.
after a moment of silence, you approve of his deal, “fine, but if you can’t make me cum in a minute, i’ll extend the ban for a month,” toji knew the risks he was taking— no sex for a month? but nonetheless, he was ready to place all his cards on the table.
thus, how you ended up with your legs shaking around his head, his tongue latched onto your clit.
he has two fingers slipped inside your cunt, and it was evident from your loud whimpers that you’ve been pent up just as much as he has been. he sighs, as if he just chugged a fresh, cold drink. “come on, baby. were you trying to punish me or yourself?” you were already soaking wet by the time he discarded your panties, coming to a realization that this challenge was nothing more than a piece of cake.
the timer on your phone was ticking with 45 seconds left in his favor. his thick fingers are vehemently being shoved in and out of you, it was starting to get embarassing how loud the squelching is with each push of his digits. he jostled the wet muscle of his tongue on your clit in a jerking motion, and you arch your back, covering your face with your palms as if that would help. his saliva trickled down your folds, then caught it with his tongue.
you refused to look at him, keeping your eyes glued shut or else you’ll cum sooner than you anticipated. his arms are wrapped around the outside of your thighs which rested on his shoulders to keep your pussy in full access for him. his hands massaged the pudge of your groin, adding onto the sheer stimulation you’re experiencing right now.
toji mocks, seeing that the clock tells him he still has half a minute left and you’re already on the brink of cumming all over his fingers. “would rather cum on my fingers or on my dick?”
you gasp, hands now grasped onto the crème sheets beneath to you. “ah— hah— you’re dick, fuck—“
your face felt so hot, the tips of his fingers dipping into that squishy spot inside that got you squirting, fluid spurting out and soaking his fingers while he placed his lips on your clit, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud. he laughs, “fuck yeah… fucking love it when you squirt for me like that…” you lift your head take a peek at him, tucking your chin in to see him tease you by sticking his tongue out, upper lip dripping with your slick.
you tremble, slightly out of breath as your chest rose and fell, “shit, toji. okay, you got me.” maybe it wouldn’t have been so easy for him if you weren’t already horny, but you had to hand it to him for playing your game well. your rose toy couldn’t even compare.
he traces your pussy once more with the fingers that were just inside of you, smirking arrogantly as he sits up, leaving your legs to land back on the mattress. his face is on top of yours, and you cup his cheeks to bring his lips towards yours for a longing kiss, tasting a hint of your arousal. you nibble on his bottom lip as he pulls away, aroused by the way his lip bounced back up.
just in time, the timer went off and you searched for your phone with your hand to turn it off without averting your gaze from him. he asks with a mumble, “the ban is off?”
you chuckle, voice hoarse and throat dry, “fine, the ban is off.” with your arms laced around him, he uses one hand to pop his cock out his boxers, not bothering to pull it all the way down. he grins as he slaps it in between your folds, watching you shiver under his touch. he leans in for a peck on the lips, followed with a harsh strike to your tit with his palm before groping on it to massage the sting away.
he breathes against your trembling lips, “still wanna cum on my cock?”
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HIGURUMA
“higuruma, sir—“ you giggle, bent over the wide oak desk that occupied the back of his office. your hands were bounded behind you with his leather belt as higuruma pounds into you from behind, your body jolting forward with each thrust. he was still clad with his suit on, with the exception that his pants and boxers are down around his ankles, thinking that it’s too much of a hassle to take it all off as he’s still on the clock.
he slouches down, licking a stripe up the shell of your ear before muttering, “it’s hiromi, darling.” he reminds you, having hated the idea of being called by his last name while having sex. you flinch, sensitivity heightened from being deprived of using your hands. the desk produced harsh creaking noises with each mean thrust of higuruma’s hips, releasing all his pent up anger on your tight cunt. as soon as he entered the office, he had you bent over with your ass pointed up towards the ceiling, tugging your pants down and moving your panties over one ass cheek.
the cases he had to deal with all week have been stressful in the worst ways possible— uncooperative clients, complex situations, just everything felt like it was against him. the only thing that bode well for him having to endure this hellish week was you— his legal assistant. you’re organized, quick to your feet, and efficient. everything he wants in an assistant.
oh and the pussy is amazing too, but no one else is supposed to know that.
you were resting on one cheek, faced towards the shelves full of loose papers and books, saliva trickling down on the surface of his desk. your walls were being bullied by his cock, drilling into you with no mercy. you were already seeing stark— this all would've been fine and dandy if you two didn’t have to be at court in less than half an hour. “hiromi… we have to leave soon.” you cry, voice constricted from having your chest pressed against the desk.
he continues to slap his pelvis against your ass, hips consistent with rhythm like it’s a metronome. “do we? fuck—“ he grunts, slamming his eyes shut as he relishes the way your snug cunt would pulse around him. he reaches one of his hands up, then smacks your ass, making you yelp in pain while his free one is keeping your body from thrashing by squeezing your other ass cheek. you whine, still thinking about work for some odd reason, “yes— and you know how uptight that client is.” it felt ridiculous how tears are rimmed on your lash line from the prickling sensation on your ass while you’re speaking about professional matters.
higuruma slacks his hips for a moment, pushing his weight against you so hard that you almost choke trying to gasp, cock sunken in you to the hilt while case files and the pens on his desk shifted in position. he ponders while grazing his hand over the curve of your ass, “he’s the one that snapped at you for being a minute late?”
you turn your head the best you can, giving him a timid nod. this particular client has been hard to work with, higuruma was trying his best to be empathetic but sometimes he wishes he didn’t have this passion for bringing justice. the man is even infamous at your firm now for being extremely rude, and higuruma was the only one willing to take his case on.
he sighs, clicking the roof of his mouth with his tongue, waiting for a moment to think about his choices: whether to cut this off with you now to please the client’s wishes of you two being there 10 minutes early, or continue this and arrive just a few minutes past the agreed time.
it didn’t take long for him to decide— tugging on the loose strap of the belt around your wrists to pull you against his chest, cock angled so fucking deliciously that you feel like his tip is poking on your abdominal lining. he whispers, breath hitting the crook of your neck, “that bastard will just have to deal with it then,” he lets some of the strap loose so that your spine would be in a bowed arch, arms stretched back from higuruma pulling on it. you breathe through your mouth with your teeth clenched shut from the ache coming from your wrist. there’s no way that’s not going to leave a mark considering how the leather is starting to dig into your skin since it’s the only thing supporting your upper body.
that thought was soon discarded though when he used that to his advantage, wrapping the belt around one of his wrists to keep you arched as he thrusts into you, your breasts jiggling even under the confines of your clothes. the sounds eliciting from your lips were starting to gradually increase in volume, even as you tried to keep it down for the sake of your fellow coworkers. your cheeks were hot, cunt throbbing every time you hear your boss grunt and mutter curses under his breath.
with both your eyes shut, you open one eye to shoot a quick glance at the clock on his desk. the client wants you there in 20 minutes but the court hearing doesn’t actually start until 30 minutes. the only obstacle you have to face is the traffic on the way to the court building.
if fate couldn’t have been more against the two of you right now, higuruma’s office phone started ringing. you turn your head as a gesture for him to notice in case he wasn’t paying attention, but he was already looking at it with a death stare on his face, as if that phone committed a heinous crime or something. his hips never faltered, you were being split open with such vigor that your legs were shivering.
the ringing eventually stopped, but then followed with another one, with the same annoying string of sound. he had enough at this point, but he kept plunging into you even harder, your body jerking forward, his cockhead pistoning into your g-spot. obviously pissed off, his voice was gruff as he groaned with the animalistic desire to fuck you full of cock. the irritating noise of the landline was blaring, but maybe it would’ve been for the best considering how vocal you’re being.
“fuck, hiromi—! i’m gonna cum,” your wanton moans were being swallowed by the phone’s continuous ringing, your arms going limp. his belt clinked with each deep thrust, and he couldn’t even bother trying to be quiet anymore either. “yes, baby— cum all over me, mhm—“ he purses his lips, moaning as his tone raised in pitch, his hips stiffening for a millisecond when he felt you release around him and he pulls out, one hand still gripped on the leather strap while he uses his other to jerk himself off to his orgasm, streams of his warm cum spurting out on your inner thighs.
you felt so frail, higuruma unbuckling the belt holding your wrists together almost immediately after his high. you spun around, and he wipes cum off his hand with the handkerchief placed inside his suit pocket. he sees that your wrists are wrung with indents of the leather. “i’m so sorry, sweetheart. we should’ve used something less harsh.” placing the handkerchief on his desk when he was done with it, he holds both of your wrists and massages them, his thumb caressing on your skin.
“now you owe me dinner later.” you stick your tongue out and he scoffs.
the corners of his lips upturn into a smile, “sure.” he glances at the clock and he throws his head back, sighing in exhaustion.
“that prick is gonna yell at us for being late.” he chuckles, referring to the client. when he lets your hands go, you take a tissue from his desk behind you, cleaning yourself off. then you pull your slacks back up, tucking your shirt under while you dust off any wrinkles and debris from the carpet.
you laugh, poking fun at what he said earlier, “let that bastard deal with it then.”
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vanteguccir · 2 months
Text
Her exception | Chris Sturniolo
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Chris Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Y/N is shy and Chris loves to tease her for that.
Warning: None.
Requested?: Yes, by anon.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
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Y/N walked down the stairs towards her shared room with Chris in slow steps, her mouth forming a pout after she checked the fridge and saw that her sweet was gone.
The girl stopped for a few seconds in front of the white door before knocking lightly twice with her closed fist, turning the handle and opening it.
Her eyes traveled around the room, noticing that the lights were off, the turned on computer serving as the only source of lighting. The loud sound of the video game Chris was playing escaped his headphones, echoing off the walls.
The boy was sitting in his gaming chair with his arms resting on the computer table and his hands working on the keyboard and mouse quickly, his brow furrowed and his tongue between his teeth in concentration.
The girl approached slowly, touching her fingers on his covered shoulder lightly, alerting him to her presence.
Chris looked up, pausing the game and lowering his headphones instantly when he realized it was his girl. A smile appeared on his face as his blue eyes traveled over her silhouette momentarily before focusing on her face.
"Hi baby! Wow, who gave you permission to look that good, huh?" The brunette flirted, a smirk stretching across his cheeks as his tongue escaped between his lips, wetting them quickly.
Y/N felt her blood rush to her cheeks instantly, a reddish hue covering her face and neck. She looked down in shyness, playing with the hem of Chris's t-shirt over her body. The reason why she went to him already forgotten.
"Stop it." Her voice was quieter than she expected, but loud enough for Chris to hear. A laugh escaped his throat as he lifted his own hands, encircling his girlfriend's waist and pulling her closer.
He rested his chin on Y/N's stomach so that his eyes focused on hers, exhaling the scent of her perfume that surrounded her.
"I'm just teasing you, baby. Even though you look more beautiful than ever today." Chris spoke, a smile resting on his lips.
"You always say that." Y/N whispered, bringing her hands to her boyfriend's soft hair and stroking it lightly, feeling her insides melt like ice cream in the summer.
"Because you always look so beautiful." The boy said one as if it were obvious, rolling his eyes playfully. "What did you want, pretty girl?"
"Can you walk me to the bakery down the street? I went to eat my apple pie from there, but it's gone." The girl asked slowly, biting her lower lip as she felt her cheeks burn from asking for the favor.
"Don't do that, sweetheart." Chris's thumb touched the lip trapped by his girlfriend's teeth, releasing it slightly. "'Gonna hurt your pretty lips like that."
Y/N felt her heart speed up at her boyfriend's touch and gentle words, combing his hair to try and hide her shaking fingers.
"Sorry." Her voice was almost null as she lowered her head, her eyes meeting the blue ones she loved so much, receiving a smile in response.
"No need to apologize, my love." He caressed his girl's warm cheek with the thumb he had just used. "Let's go to the bakery and buy an apple pie for the prettiest girl in the world."
He knew how much she hated going to establishments where she would need to talk to a stranger, so he always accompanied her with great pleasure.
Chris got up from the chair slowly so as not to hurt or push his girlfriend's body with his movements. He straightened his hoodie with his hands, smoothing out the small wrinkles from his previous position, before picking up his wallet that was on his computer desk, putting it in the pocket of his pants.
The boy lightly placed his hand on his girlfriend's back, guiding her through the room and up the stairs, even though she didn't need the support.
The gesture made Y/N's heart skip a beat, her hands clenching into fists from the way she felt her fingers shaking and her arms getting goosebumps, she pressed her lips into a thin line to keep from biting them, not wanting to disobey her boyfriend.
Chris always made her feel so loved and safe, and despite her shyness with his kindness, she didn't stop him. He was her exception.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
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~ taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd
(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)
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wolken-himmel · 10 months
Text
In which Floyd's transformation potion wears off, causing him to be stuck in his eel-merman form in a large tank.
Now (Y/n) has to entertain him.
Request by anon.
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You had always admired the Mostro Lounge's interior design. Large tanks that lined the walls, some that connected to the vast ocean outside the building and allowed little fish and other creatures to pass through. You used to spend a lot of time watching all these adorable and innocent creatures swim past the glass facade. But now, all of them had been chased away by a vicious predator.
Floyd.
You exhaled and watched as he terrorised the last remaining guppies until they fled the tank. The large eel-merman was left alone in the tank, now bored out of his mind. There were no more little fish to torment. So he turned to you, who stood outside the tank and watched him swim around. He flashed his teeth at you, you poor little fish.
"Shrimpy!" he cried out once his head penetrated the surface of the tank. His arms were resting on the upper edge of the tank, the water from his skin dripping to the ground. He shot you a sly smile. "Come a little closer. I don't bite."
You wrapped your arms around yourself, making sure your blazer was still dry. Despite his pressing gaze, you didn't move a centimetre. "I don't wanna get wet. You splashed Azul when he gave you your lunch earlier."
Floyd let out a groan at your reply. "Shrimpy, don't be such a guppy!"
His words caused you to quirk an eyebrow. "I'm not a guppy. I have good reasons not to trust you," you said, a tad bit of playfulness lingering in your voice. You chortled softly, knowing better than to come closer to him.
"What?! I'm as innocent as those little spikeballs from the Heartslabyul garden, the ones you like to cuddle! I deserve appreciation too, don't I?" the merman whined, as if your words had offended him. He pulled his arms away from the ledge of the tank and sank to the bottom of the tank, so he could face you properly. His long tail curled around the floor as he glared at you, the glass wall being the only thing separating you two.
You shrugged softly. "Who says you won't pull me into that tank if I get closer."
"I would never. I swear on Jade."
His words drew loud laughter from your lips. You almost doubled over from how intense the wheezes were that shook your body. "You'd swear on your own brother?" you asked and held your stomach in pain. As your laughter faded out into chuckles, you gazed around the empty Mostro Lounge. "I hope he didn't hear that..."
Floyd chuckled along, but his laughter quickly turned into grumbles of annoyance again. "Come on, Shrimpy. I'm bored!" he complained again and swam circles in his tank. It was large enough to allow for vast movement, but it was empty of any entertainment. "I wanna walk again, poke your side and annoy you."
You chuckled and crossed your arms. "Yeah, you're a real menace. Maybe it's good you're stuck in that tank for a few hours," you teased him. Unable to help yourself, you stuck your tongue out at him.
Floyd clutched his chest dramatically and sank to the bottom of the tank, where he remained motionlessly. "Shrimpy, you're so mean to me..."
Laughter spilled from your lips, and you couldn't help but tap your finger nail against the glass wall. "Stop it, Floyd. You're so dramatic."
"You're breaking my heart..." the eel-merman whined before regaining life again. At the speed of light, he shot up from the ground of the tank and zoomed off into a dark corner.
You brought your face closer to the glass, your eyes scanning the vast tank. The back was littered with large stones and tall kelp plants. Even though his tail was long, he somehow managed to easily hide amongst the flora of the tank. A worried feeling made itself apparent in your stomach. "Floyd? Where are you? Come out again," you yelled out nervously.
Did your playful banter go too far? Did you actually manage to insult him.
Your head began to spin with thoughts of how hurt he must feel. Feeling awful, you desperately searched for any sign of life from him. But your eyes never managed to see past the plants and rocks in the tank. He was nowhere to be found.
With each passing minute of your fruitless search, guilt and dread weighed down your conscience. You began to feel bad about what you had said to him. Any attempt of calling out to him was met with awful silence. With Floyd gone, the empty Mostro Lounge became eerie and lifeless.
Your guilt got the better of you, and you climbed up the ladder that led to the upper ledge of the tank. Your eyes scanned the crystal clear water, but even from up there, you couldn't manage to find him amongst the kelp. With your hands tightly gripping onto the ledge, you leaned over the tank.
"Floyd... I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said," you murmured softly. "Please come out again. I'm worried about you..."
You're met with silence again. He still seemed too hurt to reply you. Or that's what you thought at least. With all the feelings of guilt that plagued you, you didn't notice the threatening shadow that approached you from below. Your torse continued to lean over the ledge, desperately trying to find your friend in the tank.
That was until a webbed hand shot out from the water and grabbed your arm. A scream escaped your lips as you were pulled into the tank with ease. Your body toppled over the ledge and plunged into the water. Strong limbs and an even stronger tail constricted most of your panicked movement.
Your clothes felt heavy and your eyes burnt as you were finally able to open them. You came face to face with a mischievously grinning Floyd. He held you tightly, but making sure your head remained above the water. An unsettling giggle escaped his lips. "I never was mad at you. I just needed you to feel guilty and come closer to the tank so I could pull you in."
You glared at him, but your anger was only half-hearted. "You sly eel..."
Your struggling is met with carefree laughter from his side. "That's what we're known as. Smart, sly and slippery!" he exclaimed smugly and swam around the tank with you. A bright smile was plastered onto his face, akin to that of a child that had just received a present.
"I should have known this was just another one of your ploys," you murmured in dismay.
Floyd pressed you against him until you could only wheeze out your complaints. "You're like a rubber duck! So easily squeezable and cute," he cooed playfully.
"Hey, let me go!" you cried out with red cheeks.
His laughter turned louder, until it filled the entirety of the Mostro Lounge. "Sorry, no can do, Shrimpy. You're my little rubber ducky until I get my transformation potion."
"Azul! Hurry up with the potion!" you yelled out at the top of your lungs.
Before you could say more, Floyd pulled you underwater to shut you up. After a few seconds of having his fun, he pulled you up again. A giggle escaped his lips at your disoriented state. He merely soothed your strangled whines by pulling you closer, his arms circling around your waist.
An eerie smile decorated his face as he patted your head. "Oh, he can take his time. I don't mind...."
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levilaughlove · 3 months
Text
❝T-that's going..in..me?❞ 🔞
→ Authors note: Hey, it's been a while. Sorry for the hiatus.₊ ⊹
⤿Heads up - m!reader x H♯rny tentacle monster || Mentions of dubious consent || Monster is faceless, literally just tentacle| || Very very descriptive terms || Overstimulation & C♯m Kink.
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"M/n!" shouted a woman's voice from downstairs. It was your mum. You knew exactly what she wanted. You once offered to go hunting for a rare animal since your family tried and failed. Since you succeeded, your mum has non-stop been begging you to do it again as food was running low.
"I know mom, i'm going." You shouted back, putting on your dark wash jeans and belt, lazily throwing on a black hoodie and running out. Behind your home was a forest, a quiet one. The dirt and leaves crinkle and crack underneath the pressure of your feet. It's also a bit windy out.
Soon, you've gotten deep into the forest, definitely far from home. No sign of the animal but— CRASH.
By your left foot, you are dragged underground. Fuck, you hadn't seen that ditch. Your face once thrashing against sharp branches soon met with slimey, but soft....something? Regaining consciousness, you slowly open your eyes.
A light rosy colored room surrounded you. The walls are squishy, wet, and pulsating. There are humps in the equally squishy floor pulsating under you. You feel naked, you are naked. Noticing your clothing haphazardly tossed around the area.
Soon, the squishy room pulsates faster, stimulating your manhood just a bit. "He's awoken."
Before you could react to the deep, unhuman voice, a powdery gas floods your scent, making your libido rise alarmingly high. You were hard, real hard. Your brain foggy, in desire to be fucked beyond repair. "Hello." A tentacle rises from the squishy floor and hovers over your aroused body. It's big and girthy, not to mention drenched in slick. Soon 6 others rise along with. One of the 6 sneaks under your waist along your stomach and lifts your ass to the air. Hole drenched preparing subconsciously.
"Gnh..." Your groan back. Unable to give any coherent words due to your horny, foggy brain. "Don't worry love, we will take great, great care of you..." The voice says lowly. A tentacle approaching your needy wet dick. The voice turns you on even more. You buck your hips back hoping to catch the closed tentacle into your tight hole.
The wet, thick tentacle jerks off your manhoods slow and hard, pulling as many sinful moans as possible. Each time it works it was up to your glands, it pulls a drop of precum from your dick. Another tentacle can be felt prodding at your tight ass ring, begging for permission. You buck your hips back once again, the tip of the tentacle penetrates. A loud moan is pulled from your throat at the double sensation.
The thick tentacle at your ass shoves itself fully in, easily sliding in due to the slick. It wasted no time in rutting against the inside of your gummy walls, pounding at every go. The tentacle on your dick speeds up the pace, not one to be outdone. Another 2 tentacles lift up each of your legs giving the first tentacle easier access. The last 2 play with your nipples, stimulating the buds and sucking at them.
The sensation were almost to much for you, as you let out a loud, porn-like moan, your mouth drooling & agape, eyes low and lolled back, tears pouring from them. The tentacles however, didn't stop as the fucked you through your rough orgasm. Now, you were gripping the floor underneath, your hot body begging for a break.
"Hnng..." The voice says. Soon unleashing thick, white liquids into your abused hole fucking it back in as all the tentacle begin to slow.
You pass out to the overwhelming pleasure and leave the rest to the monster.
"Now, you are ours." Each tentacle helping to carry you elsewhere. Who knows where? Doesn't matter, anyway.
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yourstrulyrika · 3 months
Text
soft sex with leon kennedy ♡
ahhh i love this man. comfort character fr.
anyway no warnings. fem!reader and lots of love praise and aftercare :3 smut below the cut! probably the longest fic i ever wrote so pls tell me if it’s actually decent. i’m not used to writing long fics
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a reminder rqs are open btw :3
Leon struggles with telling you how much he loves you. He’s always been a man of few words since you knew him. does that mean he doesn’t love you? no way in hell. he loves you more than you’ll ever know.
It’s visible with the way he’s so gentle with you. When holding you, when talking to you, sleeping with you, making love with you.
Because Leon doesn’t fuck; he’s making love.
he’s so gentle, putting you on a pedestal, treating you like a queen you are. his eyes are on you as he kneels down in front of you, hands already on thighs and gently squeezing them. you swear you can see little hearts in his eyes with how in love he is with you.
“That’s it baby, so good for me. Always so pretty, the prettiest girl in the entire world.” and he’s saying this so lovingly as he takes his time with you. first, he places loving kisses all over your thighs, mumbling how much he loves you after each kiss. he finally tugs off your panties and lifts your thighs up, letting out a soft moan at the sight in front of him.
“Good girl. Love you so much, princess, can’t believe you’re mine.” with those words, he places your thighs on his shoulders, burying his face in your puffy cunt. he loves it there, loves when you close your thighs around his head. he presses light kisses on your clit, going down to finally dive in and eat you out like a starved man he is. truth be told, when he’s between your legs, he always loses himself, always in his own world with how good it feels for him. always praising you, even when it’s barely audible.
“Mm, fuck, you’re just perfect aren’t you? Sweet girl. Just sit there and let me take care of you.” he loves your taste. always spends so much time on your pussy, making you come at least two times before he even thinks of himself.
when you start trembling, he knows you’re close. he speeds up his movements, clumsily reaching out to hold your hand as his hand rests on your thigh. and then you cum — and he feels like heaven’s greeting him right now. you’re squirming, because you’re sensitive and yet he never stops eating you out; quite the opposite. he makes it a challenge to make you cum faster than the orgasm before the next one. with how sensitive you are it’s not hard — he starts fingering you, gently curling his fingers to reach your sweet spot that makes you spread and lift your legs higher.
“Could spend forever between your legs, love. Fuck, you taste too good for your own good. How can I not grow drunk on you?” all he thinks about in this moment is you, you, you — your face, your pussy, your hand tugging on his hair. he loves when you do that, loves when you use him for your pleasure.
“That’s it, angel. Jus’ use me all you want, ‘m all yours, my cock is yours, everything I own is yours. ‘m here to please you, baby, please,” he actually starts to get whiny at his own words — cock so hard it’s throbbing against his stomach but he just doesn’t want to stop until you cum again. he has to see you cum again — it’s like a blessing to him.
when you finally cum, he has this big, proud grin on his face, eyes hazy but full of love for you. you can notice just how hard he is — and yet he doesn’t care until you ask him to slide in. of course he’ll oblige, anything for his princess.
he reaches out to take your hand in his again, guiding his cock inside with the other. both of you moan at the same time, you because you feel him snug so well inside, him because he feels your gummy, warm walls already wrapping around him like a blanket. he feels like he’s about to cum right there and now, but he holds back, wanting to make you cum again.
“Fuck, you’re made for me. You’re so perfect, I love you so much. You feel so damn good.”
Leon’s not rushing it. his pace is actually pretty balanced, not wanting to overwhelm you. he peppers your neck with gentle love bites and hickeys, all the way to your chest where he sucks your nipples like his life depended on it. fondles your breast with one hand, sucking on the other one while still holding your hand. he’s searching for that spot you love so well — and when he finds it, he’s so proud of himself.
“Right there baby? Yeah? Good girl, taking me so well, this pussy was made for me.” he’s adjusting his position, arching his hips to just hit that sweet spot inside you repeatedly until he feels you squirming.
he loves being drunk on you, he loves drowning himself in you, your embrace, your scent. he loves everything about you. the way you scratch his back, dig your fingers in when you’re close — he moans so loudly at that you’re almost surprised if it wasn’t for him thrusting in you so well. you two are so close, but he cums right after you do — he wouldn’t dare cum before you.
he stays inside you for a moment, just staring into you lovingly. he presses a sweet kiss to your head, before slowly pulling out and picking you up.
“Cmon, babygirl. Did so well for me, time to take care of you.”
he carries you to the bathroom, cleans you up, makes sure you’re hydrated, well fed and clean before actually tucking you in bed, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest so you feel his heartbeat as you come down from your high.
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orionremastered · 3 months
Note
I’m actually so obsessed with the way you write the boys like🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾
why thank you anon this made me smile
and because im nice (school hasn't started yet)
Masterlist
911 Texting the Batboys
Dick Grayson
Exactly one minute after you send him the text, the living room window shatters into a million pieces across the floor. Nightwing calls your name, voice raw with concern, before surveying the state of your apartment.
"Oh," you say quietly by the kitchen, staring at the broken pieces of glass across the floor and then at your boyfriend who stares at you, chest heaving as he looks at you, confused.
"You're not hurt?"
"Well— I— the pan caught fire. I put it out though. I'm not burnt, I promise."
He looks at you doubtfully, storming over before pulling you into a tight embrace. "You scared me."
"I'm sorry," you whisper.
"Don't be. It's okay. Don't be scared to text me if you're in any trouble. Promise you'll let me know if you're in danger?"
"I promise."
"Good," he mutters, though more as a reassurance for himself, resting his head on yours and breathing deeply.
"You can let me go now," you point out gently.
"Two more minutes."
Jason Todd
When your boyfriend takes longer to show up than expected, you start to get confused. And cold— it's the middle of winter and your hoodie was stolen while you were out with your friends.
And that wouldn't be a problem if you're car wasn't starting either.
The familiar roar of a motorcycle engine catches your attention, dark shape speeding down the street towards you. It skids to a stop, the tires screeching in order to slow.
"Hey," you say with a wave and a smile. "Car broke down and—"
Red Hood rushes off his motorbike, carefully grabbing you to look you over in the empty street. When he finds nothing, he sighs. "Thought you'd been kidnapped. Couldn't find you at your apartment."
Without waiting for your reply, he shrugs his brown leather jacket off his shoulders and places it around yours, helping you put your arms into the sleeves despite you protesting that you can do it yourself.
"Let's get you home," he says gruffly, aching to hold you in his embrace when no one can see. "I'll call in a favour to get your car fixed."
Tim Drake
You don't think you'd ever been more embarrassed in your life when you realised you forgot your phone, which has your card in the case, at home.
Tim rushes into the store, having tracked your location immediately and driving well over the speed limit, still in his pristine CEO outfit.
"What's wrong? Is someone bothering you?" his eyes dart around the store, taking everyone's face and putting it to memory.
"No... I forgot my phone and card. And I have a full cart of groceries. Tim, I can't put this all back, that's weird."
"Why didn't you ask me to pay before?"
"I— hmm. I'll do that next time."
You lead him to the counter were the high school aged cashier gapes at the richest man in Gotham who pays for the food without even glancing at the price.
Damian Wayne
When you texted 911 to your boyfriend, you certainly weren't expecting this. Somehow, in the five minutes of the text being sent, he managed to gather ten League of Assassins members that now stand in your suddenly very cramped apartment, sharp katanas at their side.
"Are you alright?" Damian himself has two katanas, glinting in the terrible lights. "What's wrong?"
It seems so stupid now with ten assassins behind him. Maybe you shouldn't have texted after all. "Look, it's really—"
"I don't care how little it is," he states, "You texted me for a reason."
"I... I thought I could hear someone talking and moving in the walls."
All eleven of them tense, exchanging glances. Damian gives them one sharp nod and the assassins begin locating any hollow spaces in the walls, tapping their knuckles and listening closely to the sounds.
"وجدت ذلك," one says after a few seconds.
"Don't worry about it habibi, we'll tear the building apart and find them," Damian assures you, pulling you into his arms.
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