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deathofacupid · 1 month ago

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r/ HOW TO BABY-TRAP YOUR FRIENDS-WITH-BENEFITS ROOMMATE!

I'M A BAD MAN, I DO WHAT I CAN! — if you were to ask them, it's not their fault. it's not their fault you're practically a goddess, ethereal, really. the thing is, though, you didn't do relationships, just didn't have a reason to. you'd always preferred the no-strings-attached, the clean simplicity. ah, well, they'll give you a reason.

★ satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, choso kamo, toji fushiguro, ryomen sukuna.

warnings — well, báby-trápping. obsessive, pathetic, yearning men. pórn following, barely, a plot. áfab!reader. óverstimulatión, dégrading, dúmbification, sqúirting, breedíng. age gaps. chóking, óral (m/f receiving). fíngeríng. dóm!characters. nón-con/dúb-con. use of alćohol. unprótected séx. lying, manipulation. out-of-character, i guess. ...not toji abandoning megumi, just to go off and have another kid. 3.5k+ words!

(呪術廻戦) : note — concept based off of @indiewritesxoxo's work (luv u bae <33), divider credits to @cafekitsune.

★ SATORU GOJO

"oh, c'mon," he coos, a pout framing his lips, but his eyes tell a different story. "jus' wanna feel you. i promise i'll pull out." satoru's hovering above you, tapping his slick, throbbing tip against your clit, sending a jolt of electricity through your core.

"satoru, no," you say, trying to keep your voice steady, but the heat radiating off him is making your resolve crumble. he's right there, so close, and your body is screaming for him.

"baby, i promise," satoru pleads. he pleads. he's pleading. are you supposed to just, like, say no?

you tug your bottom lip between your teeth, arms still wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. he lowers himself, capturing your mouth in a deep, wet kiss, his tongue exploring your depths with a possessive urgency.

"you have to. you can't cum inside, okay?" you warn, giving in, though your voice is thick with desire. he was clearly adamant about this, refusing to budge. if this was going to go down his way, you'd rather it happen quick.

"yeah, yeah," satoru says, waving you off dismissively, his attention already focused on the prize. the second you give him the go-ahead, he's lining himself up between your thighs, his cock throbbing at your entrance. slowly, deliberately, he pushes himself inside, groaning as he stretches you.

you moan, digging your nails into his back, the sharp sting a welcome sensation. no matter how many times you fuck him, you won't ever get used to his size. satoru fills you completely, the snugness of your wet cunt a tight, hot embrace.

"y— you take me s'good, pretty thing." his voice is gravelly and low, as he looses himself to your wet heat.

the pace increases, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder, each stroke a raw, animalistic possession. you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut, your body arching beneath him.

satoru can feel himself getting closer, can feel the way his abdomen tightens, the telltale signs of his release. you can feel him getting closer too, with the way his thrusts grow shaky, and lose their rhythm.

"ngh, wait," you whimper, it's a lazy thought, on the tip of your tongue, but with the way he's got you all dumbed-down, you can't find the strength to push them out.

"shh," he grunts, pressing sloppy kisses to the side of your neck. "s'fine, just — fuck, we'll get you a plan-b, or s— some shit."

you protest weakly, but it's lost in the wave of pleasure washing over you. it's not like you could do more if you wanted (do you even want to?), because you're climaxing first, convulsing around his cock, sucking him in. he follows soon after, thick ropes of cum flooding you, filling you completely.

and, if he was "getting" you that plan-b tomorrow, anyways, he might as well fuck his seed in deeper, right?

★ SUGURU GETO

the tang of cheap vodka clings to you, the bitterness sharp on his tongue. friday night. finally, a chance to unwind.

"not drinking?" you slur, the buzz already softening the edges of the world for you.

"i did," he breathes, his teeth dragging a wet, sucking trail up the side of your neck. he knows the mark he's leaving will bloom into a dark bruise by morning.

you try to form a coherent question, but the insistent throb between your legs steals your focus, a desperate, undeniable ache for him.

and he has drunk. enough to dull the edges of his conscience, a low hum of justification thrumming beneath his skin. you're practically melting into the couch, head lolling, lips slack and damp, a familiar, flushed heat creeping up your chest. suguru isn't inebriated like you are, but… he's something like that.

so, he isn't doing anything wrong, right?

no, of course not.

you moan, a needy sound that vibrates against his chest, your hands fisting in his shirt, tugging him closer. "f— fuck, just put it in already, suguru, please," you whimper, the words thick with desire and drink. his fingers slide down, parting the wet folds of your vulva, one thumb pressing insistently against your swollen clit.

suguru chuckles, "since you're begging so nicely." the slick, engorged head of his cock, dark red and leaking pre-cum, nudges against your slick entrance, catching on the delicate hood. he isn't in the mood for foreplay, not really. he wants to be buried inside you, now.

besides, it's not like you need it.

with a deliberate slide, he pushes into your tight heat. you gasp, a surprised sound that tightens your grip on him.

your wet cunt clenches around his length, milking him with each involuntary spasm. a guttural groan tears from his throat. your hands tangle in his hair, nails lightly scraping his scalp in that way he fucking loves.

"oh, fuck, princess," he bites out, his voice thick with lust. "easy, you're gonna swallow me whole."

"i— i'm trying," you whimper, your body arching slightly as you try to accommodate the sheer size of him stretching you open.

suguru pauses, giving you a scant second to adjust, his selfishness overriding any real concern for your comfort. he wants you stretched, tight, around his cock.

slowly, he withdraws, not quite all the way, the sudden coolness making you whimper, before thrusting back in, deeper this time. "goddamn, so fucking tight."

you're stretched taut, every muscle in your body clenching around him. his pace quickens, his hips slamming against yours with a wet, smacking sound.

"sugu!" you cry out, your voice raw and breathy. shit, he thinks, his cock throbbing harder, you sound like a fucking angel when you say my name like that.

like it's the only word left in your drunken vocabulary. and with his cock filling you so completely, blurring the edges of your already drunken mind, it probably is.

you cum first, a shuddering wave that rips through your body, your back arching off the couch. moans, wet and desperate, spill from your parted lips — his favorite sound in the world.

he's right behind you, the frantic clenching of your muscles pushing him closer to the edge. he knows he should pull out, the thought flickers through his mind, a habitual safety measure.

but he doesn't.

his orgasm rips through him, a violent shudder that locks his jaw. he comes, deep and hot, his thick, white seed flooding your insides, painting the walls of your cunt.

you're too far gone, too lost in the aftershocks of your own climax and the lingering haze of alcohol, to register the subtle change, the lack of resistance.

and if you aren't saying anything, his mind reasons, why should he?

★ KENTO NANAMI

"shit, darling, you're so tight f'me," kento groans, bucking his hips into you. his breath hitches, a sheen of sweat coating his skin. blonde hair is plastered to his forehead, and he's covered in sticky lipgloss from your mouth.

but, fuck, he's never looked so good.

your eyes hit the back of your head, tears trailing down your cheeks, and he kisses them away.

his pace is cruel, heavy balls hitting your ass, with every thrust. "k— ken," you whimper, stretching out his name. he doesn't miss, not even a goddamn millimeter, that thick, insistent head slamming directly into your sweet spot with every vicious grind of his hips.

kento's on the edge of sanity. this is pure, unadulterated bliss. this is how it's meant to be – your slick heat engulfing him completely, no flimsy rubber barrier between.

he wants to bury himself so deep he hits bone, to feel those tight, wet walls clench and spasm around his cock until he fucking explodes. and the knowledge that he's the only son of a bitch who can make you come undone like this?

it's a goddamn aphrodisiac.

you're stretched wide, impaled, filled so completely it feels like you might tear. your slick little cunt is working overtime, desperately trying to accommodate his thick length and the violent force of his thrusts. his slams are sloppy, given an impending release.

"do you— do you even know what you do to me?" he asks, and you think it's rhetorical. not that you could in answer, save for anything but nonsensical babbles.

he's surprised he's even made it this long, raw in you, without cumming already. you're like a little toy for kento, utterly helpless and deliciously broken beneath him, and the sight of it — your flushed skin, your parted lips, the way your body bucks and trembles — sends a fresh wave of white-hot lust surging through him.

beautiful, that would be his choice word. gorgeous. heavenly. a taste of gold, honey-sweet on his tongue. and, that taste? incredibly deep, to the point where the world itself lost richness.

"please, ah, please," you whine, unsure, yourself, what you're asking for. less? more? either way, he doesn't give you much of a choice, his thick, throbbing cock continuing its relentless, brutal assault on your soaked, aching pussy.

he grips the headboard so hard his knuckles are stark white, the old wood groaning and splintering under his white-knuckled grip. oh, fucking christ.

what have you done to him? how in the goddamn hell is he ever going to go back to vanilla, wrapped-up sex after this primal, skin-on-skin connection?

"c— cum inside," you moan, wrapping your legs around his waist.

his heart stops, he swears it. he wasn't expecting you to say that, not at all. he's driving his cock into you with a brutal, bone-jarring speed that he knows will leave you deliciously sore and gloriously immobile for days. "fuck, yeah? you want that?"

"yeah, yeah, i'm— i'm on the pill," you gasp, the words a breathless, desperate affirmation.

and, well, who is he to deny the love of his life? you were on a pill, after all. it just wasn't what you thought it was. on the bright side, his switcheroo left you with a good intake of vitamin d.

★ CHOSO KAMO

choso's not thinking about it, not really. not when you're riding him like this, your wet heat gripping him, squeezing him dry. especially not when he feels you clench around his cock, those little spasms that make his vision blur.

he'd tried the nice way, the pathetic puppy-dog eyes. begged you to just skip the rubber this once. but you were firm, always so fucking responsible. "condom, choso." like it was a goddamn negotiation.

so, if you trace it back, this isn't on him. those pinprick holes in the wrapper of the condom? definitely not him. nope, not a chance.

he's not thinking about it because in his head, it's already done. it's a family, right? that's the end goal. just you and him, and a couple of little ones running around. twins.

he pictures it sometimes, a little girl with your stubborn streak, a boy with his quiet intensity. he'd love them both, messy and loud and his.

his family. the thought slams into him as you grind down, your slick folds rubbing against him. he's not even fully inside his head anymore, just the raw, animal urge.

you'd be a fucking incredible mother, he knows it. the way you care for that stupid houseplant, the way you fuss over him when he's got a headache.

choso's breath hitches, his fingers digging into the slick skin of your waist, holding on for dear life. your tits bounce with each ride, nipples hard and pink, your head thrown back, a guttural moan escaping your throat.

nothing. nothing beats this. "fuck," he grunts, eyes rolling back in his head. he's lost track of time, of everything but the wet friction, the desperate clench of your muscles. "don't fucking stop," he begs, his voice thick and rough.

"'m not gonna," you pant, your hips bucking against his rhythm.

choso grips your thighs tighter, like if he loosens his hold, you'll vanish. "shit… i think… fuck, i'm close."

"cho— oh, god, me too!" just as your orgasm hits, that tight, shuddering squeeze, he flips you over, his heavy body looming above you.

he keeps fucking you, driving deep as your cries turn into whimpers, your body convulsing around his cock. you're slick with sweat and tears, overstimulated, trying to push him off, but he just keeps pounding.

tears spill down your temples, soaking into the pillow. another sob rips from your throat. good. more wetness. more of him going in. you feel another knot building. works for him, he'll plant his seed deep, twice the load now.

he already loves you. this is his clumsy, fucked-up way of showing it. of making you his. you'll understand, someday.

★ TOJI FUSHIGURO

"there aren't any left," toji shrugs, gesturing with a lazy flick of his wrist towards the empty drawer.

"what the fuck do you mean, 'none left'?" you ask, your brow furrowing. "i swear i just bought a new box!"

he clicks his tongue, a familiar sound of his nonchalance. "gone. nada. zip."

"no, but— there can't be none. what about your wallet? you used to carry a bunch around everywhere, right?"

"don't need to anymore, do i? got you now, ma," he grins, a flash of something predatory in his eyes, followed by a low chuckle that rumbles in his chest.

"look at that. slut reformed," you scoff, though a hint of a smile plays on your lips. "well, then, go take a cold shower."

"what?" he groans, the sound laced with genuine displeasure. "c'mon, just let me—"

"absolutely fucking not. there's no way in hell i'm letting you hit it raw."

"it's just sex, though," he argues, a petulant edge to his voice.

"yeah, sure, 'just sex' — unprotected — that'll leave you knee-deep in diapers," you mutter, rolling your eyes.

"wouldn't be the worst thing," he mumbles, the words a low rumble just beneath your ear.

"what'd you say?" you ask, shifting on his lap, your position suddenly more precarious. his hands tighten on your waist, anchoring you there.

"nothin'. doll, i'll make it worth your goddamn while," he says, his voice dropping to a husky drawl that sends a shiver down your spine.

"no," you say, a weak protest as you try to squirm away, the heat suddenly rising between your thighs. "i'm serious, toji."

"i'm dead serious, too, sweetheart. i know you're soaked for me," he teases, his fingers digging slightly into your hips, a possessive and undeniably tantalizing move.

"toji," you whine, your voice losing some of its firmness, "go get condoms, and then—"

"tch. ain't got the patience for that shit right now."

"there's a gas station, like, a block away, if your dick's about to explode."

"or, you just sit back, spread those pretty legs, and let the pill do its damn job."

"no. it's not one-hundred percent, you idiot."

"for fuck's sake," he grumbles, the playful tone vanishing as he suddenly flips you over with strength, pinning your wrists above your head against the mattress.

"toji!" you gasp, a mix of surprise and a thrill you don't want to admit. "foul play, you bastard. foul game."

his thick head nudges against your slick folds, a wet, insistent pressure that makes you suck in a sharp breath. "don't think your pretty little head too much about it," he growls, his voice full with lust.

he shoves into you, a raw, stretching sensation that makes you cry out. "fucking… ahhh," he groans, the lone sound primal.

"s— shit!" you cry, your hips bucking involuntarily as you try to accommodate his size. the sheets twist beneath you as you writhe, the initial discomfort quickly morphing into a desperate, needy ache. coherent thoughts dissolve, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of him filling you completely.

he feels thicker, rougher, more. every thrust is deeper, more insistent, and the friction ignites a fire in your core. when he finally comes, it's a guttural sound ripped from his throat, his body shuddering against yours as he spills his seed deep inside.

as for the full box of condoms, he'll just make sure he takes out the trash, before you get to it.

★ RYOMEN SUKUNA

funny as fuck, he thinks, watching the way your breath hitches, how your eyes are already glazed over with lust and exhaustion. he hasn't even started yet, and you're practically begging. a slow, cruel smile spreads across his face as he takes in the flushed heat creeping up your neck. his own cock throbs, anticipating the tight squeeze.

"you look good like that," he informs you, his voice a low, gravelly purr, his gaze raking over your exposed skin. "all undone for me."

"'kuna," you whine again, a desperate sound that barely forms a word. you lift your hips off the bed, a small, frantic movement that screams for release.

he's right there, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your slick walls, but he remains frustratingly still, savoring your desperation.

he reaches out, his knuckles grazing your damp cheek, a possessive, almost taunting touch. he watches the way your pupils dilate, the frantic pulse in your throat. he enjoys this, the power he holds in this moment.

finally, with a sigh that sounds almost bored, he decides to grant your silent plea. he braces his hands on either side of your head and thrusts into you, a deep, forceful slide that makes you gasp.

you're so tight, so wet, and for a fleeting second, the intensity of your grip makes him think he might just lose it right there.

"shit, brat," he grits out, his breath hot against your ear. "can feel you milking me already. fucking needy, aren't you?" he pauses, letting you writhe beneath him. "beg for it."

"i— please, 'kuna… fuck…" your words are broken, barely coherent.

his hand drops lower, his fingers splaying across your throat, his thumb pressing just hard enough to restrict your breathing, a subtle reminder of his control.

his other hand clamps possessively onto your breast, his thumb and forefinger pinching your nipple through the thin fabric, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. your head thrashes against the pillow, a choked sound rising in your throat, a mixture of pain and pleasure.

with each deliberate, grinding thrust into your slick cunt, he feels the knot in his gut tighten, the edge drawing closer. he can feel you too, the frantic clenching of your inner muscles mirroring his own rising tension. your nails dig into his shoulders, your body arching with each deep stroke.

just as his senses overload, just as his control threatens to shatter, he pulls out with a harsh sound, the slick head of his cock glistening in the dim light.

he snatches the condom, ripping it off with a swift, almost violent motion. your eyes fly open, confusion and a flicker of protest in their depths. but before you can utter a word, he slams back into you, burying himself even deeper, raw and unprotected.

he feels the shudder rip through his body, his jaw clenching as he orgasms. he's cumming, hot and thick, flooding your insides, marking you in a way that goes beyond the physical.

he feels the desperate contractions of your own climax still gripping him, a final, exquisite torture.

he collapses against you, his weight heavy, his breath ragged. he can feel the slick warmth of his seed mingling with your own wetness. he doesn't say a word, doesn't need to.

the act itself is his declaration. you're his now, in a way you can't deny. and there's not a goddamn thing you can do about it.

❛ all works belong to deathofacupid, do not steal/plagiarize/repost. ❜

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humanjarvis · 2 months ago

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blushing bandit: part 1

synopsis: you coax caleb into admitting his crimes against your laundry.

tags: sub!caleb, caleb steals your panties to get off, you make him admit it, fingering (main character to self), caleb praise kink, caleb whimpers again, teasing, sexual condescension, cum...licking? (off of panties) pairing: caleb x reader word count: 1.3k

PART 2

a/n: i told myself if i ever wrote panty sniffer caleb it'd have to be unique since it's done so much so i hope this is enough. sorry if not. [omg i’m proofreading rn and i am not the same person i was when i wrote this]

You’d been keeping a spreadsheet.

In the last four times that Caleb had done your laundry, four pairs of your panties had gone missing.

The first time, you’d shrugged it off. Meh, maybe the dryer sucked them in, you’d thought. The second was just a coincidence, and the third had had you this close to calling a repairman. But by the fourth? You suspected you were dealing with a repeat offender—a human one.

This wasn’t Caleb’s first time having a…fixation with your underwear. A few times prior, you’d walked past the laundry room to see him staring down at a small scrap of lace or cotton in his hands, frantically chucking them into the washer once he spotted you. Needless to say, you were so certain of his guilt that you didn’t even care to check his room—you were right, you knew, and he’d admit what he’d done by the end of the day.

Fifteen minutes before Caleb usually gets home, you crack your door open just enough to expose your bed. Climbing onto the mattress, you angle your panty-clad lower half to the doorway. The pair you’ve got on are simple: pink cotton with white lace borders. You honestly didn’t care which ones you wore—they just needed to be light enough to stain.

Spreading your legs, you slip your hand under the lace waistband, running your fingers up and down your slit. As you part your folds, you slowly slide your hand up to play with your clit, circling, flicking, and rubbing until you’re slick with arousal. Your movements are calculated, methodical. This wasn’t about achieving pleasure—that would come when you tormented Caleb later. For now, your goal was to soil your panties with cum.

When the front door opens, you quicken your pace, rocking your hips into the bed so it creaks and dropping distinct moans from your lips.

You don’t even bother to listen for footsteps—you know he’ll come. You know he’ll see.

As you feel yourself getting close, you swipe two fingers along your glistening folds before sinking them into your core, matching the rhythm of the other hand still playing with your clit.

The pressure builds and builds, but a glimpse of the shadow moving in the cracked doorway is what finally pushes you over the edge.

With a loud cry, you roll your hips through your orgasm, writhing sensually on the crumpled sheets beneath you.

After a heady moment, you remove your hands from your core and press them against the outside of your panties, making sure they’re wholly drenched for what you’re about to do.

When you look back up, the shadow is gone, and you know you’ve got him.

“How was your day?” you greet, barging into Caleb’s room with your hands behind your back.

With his broad back toward you, he freezes briefly before relaxing. “It was alright, nothing much happened,” he shrugs, still not turning to face you.

“Alright, huh?” you repeat. Clearly, he was in need of a little push.

“You wanna know what I did today?” you start, a saccharine excitement in your voice. “Today I went through the load of laundry you washed for me yesterday. Do you want to guess what it had in common with the three loads before that?”

Tensing, Caleb finally turns around, a noticeable tremor in his idle hands. “It...smelled like detergent?” he jokes lamely, offering a weak smile.

“Oh, cut the shit, Caleb,” you scoff, sauntering over to him. “I know. No excuses, no stupid jokes, no changing the subject. I know.”

A startled laugh falling from his lips, Caleb flits his eyes to the side before opening his mouth to respond. “Wh—”

“Shut it,” you intercept. “Now, I came in here to make a deal—an unfair deal, to be honest. It will benefit you much more than me.” Stepping closer, you grin at his wary expression before continuing. “If you admit you've been stealing my panties, you get to keep these. No catch,” you offer, waving your underwear, coated with the evidence of your earlier climax, in front of his face.

Caleb’s eyes pop out of his skull. Dumbfounded, he stands staring down at you, opening and closing his mouth like he’s glitching.

“Hmm? I thought you liked these,” you mock. Placing a hand on his chest, you push his dazed form onto the bed behind him. Chuckling, you crawl up his body, panties threaded between your fingers.

When you come face to face, you take his jaw in your other hand, angling it as if inspecting him. “Are you sick?” you pout. “Where’s your enthusiasm? Where’s the man who stole four pairs of panties out of my dirty laundry? One I could understand—to each their own—but four is just greedy, Caleb.”

Through his heaving breaths, all Caleb can respond with is a shuddering whimper. He looks up at you as if you’re about to smite him, and although you’re not, there’s something exhilarating about the visual.

“No answer? What a bummer,” you sigh dramatically. With a mischievous wink, you tighten your grip on his chin. “That’s okay, though—I think I can find him.”

Slowly, you bring the hand holding your underwear up to hover right over his face. “Is he…here?” you ask, lightly tracing the lace hem of your panties around his jawline.

At the contact, Caleb’s breath hitches, and he lets out a pitiful, incoherent noise.

“No? What about here?” you tease, now rubbing the fabric against his reddening cheek.

When he still doesn’t break, you click your tongue. “Still nothing?” you tut. “This guy’s a tough nut to crack. But don’t worry—I think I can find him right…here.” In one fluid motion, you grip Caleb’s chin and press your soaked panties to his face, the wettest patch directly over his nose and mouth.

Caleb's eyes roll back into his head before he gives you what you’ve been waiting for. Jolting his hand out to grab your arm, he presses the fabric harder against his face as he bucks up into you.

He inhales deeply before closing his eyes and, with his hand still wrapped around your wrist, pushes his tongue out to taste your leftover release.

Moaning, he opens his mouth to suckle on your panties, and you coo down at him. “Aw, there he is,” you say, caressing his cheek with your free hand. “Just needed some guidance, hm? Needed to know I wasn't mad at you for using my dried slick to get off.”

Whimpering through the material, he nods twice.

“Good,” you praise as he nuzzles into your hand. “But!” you continue, ripping the fabric from his mouth, to which he groans from the loss of contact.

“Remember what I told you. You can have these,” you say, dangling your underwear in his face and pulling away when he leans forward, “if you confess what you did.”

Violet eyes look up at you in panicked deliberation, and you can visibly see when his perversion overwhelms his pride.

“W-when I did your laundry the last few times,” he starts timidly, voice hoarse from disuse. “I took…I didn’t mean to, I swear. They were just there and they smelled like you and I couldn’t stop.”

“Couldn’t stop what, Caleb?” you prod, brow raised. “What did you do with them?”

You know what he did with them. But you want to hear it from him.

“…I used them,” he admits, voice dropping to a whisper. “I brought them back here and I smelled them and…tasted them…pretended it was you. So I could come.” When he stops, his face is flushed scarlet.

“Mm,” you hum, stroking his cheek. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Thank you for telling me,” you praise, and he shivers under your touch.

“You’ve been so good for me—I'll give you what I promised,” you say, folding your ruined panties and laying them neatly atop Caleb's chest.

Shuffling off of him, you head for the door before looking back.

“And Caleb,” you call, “cotton cannot taste that good. Next time, just ask me for the real thing.”

PART 2

#iris writes #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #caleb x reader #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace smut #lads #lads caleb #lads x reader #lnds #lads smut #caleb smut #caleb #caleb xia

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cloudzoro · 11 months ago

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Hand Placement | One Piece ♡

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Where they prefer to put their hands when fucking you good.

masterlist

a/n: hi! it's been a good few months that I was inactive and now I'm back to writing and I feel nice and refreshed ♡

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genre: smut (minors dni)

characters: ace, crocodile, law, mihawk, nami, reiju, robin, sanji, tashigi, zoro

cw: squirting, overstimulation, fem!reader, gagging, rough sex, unprotected sex, finger sucking, face sitting

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Ace - Pussy

Ace watches your face intently as he rocks his hips into you, admiring the way you look when he's fucking you. He thinks you are so beautiful and raw under him like this that he can't wait to make you fall apart.

When your pussy clenches around him and your words start to slur together he knows you're close. He shushes your desperate whimpers, promising you he's going to make you cum. Ace reaches a hand between you to rub at your clit, letting out an amused hum when you whine at the pressure. You're sensitive and your nerves are on fire at the contact. He hasn't even looked down to where he's touching you, so focused on the way your pretty face tenses as you approach your orgasm. He loves how responsive you are when he touches you. He keeps his hand going while you cum, playing with your pussy until you push his hands away from the sensitivity.

Crocodile - Hair

Crocodile sits shirtless on the sofa, leaning back with his hard cock out of his trousers. You kneel next to him on the cushions, slightly nervous of how you're going to even fit him in your mouth. You've sucked him off many times but you're still intimidated by his size. He asks if you're ok as he caresses your cheek with his hand. As soon as you nod in response to his question his hand slides to your hair, gripping a handful and pulling you down so your mouth hovers over his cock. He keeps a tight hold of your locks as you work him into your mouth. He lets out a deep groan as he guides you on his cock, showing you the pace he wants. Once you're able to keep the pace by yourself, he relaxes his grip but doesn't let go of your hair.

Law - Back

He's a real softie so he can't help that his favourite position is you riding him. Law loves the way you take the lead but he's still in control, he loves the way your tits look when you bounce on his cock, and he loves the way you look down at him in awe of how good he feels inside of you. You take him so well and respond to his gruff voice when he tells you to slow down or speed up.

He keeps his hands on your hips at first until your thighs start to shake and your movements begin to slow. You don't even have to beg him to take over because he snakes his hands around to your back and pulls you flush against him before you can even get a word out. he lifts you slightly so he has room to plant his feet and fuck up into you. It feels special and intimate to hold your body so close to his, and he hides his flushed face in the crook of your neck as he coaxes you to your first orgasm of the night.

Mihawk - Wrists

Mihawk has you up against the wall of his castle, holding both hands behind your back by the wrists. You try to move your hips against the thigh he has wedged between your legs, but you can't get the friction right, and you cry out in frustration. He feigns cluelessness and asks you what's wrong, darkly smiling as you whine about how you can't get off. You struggle against his grip, desperate to have him touch you where you need him most, but it's no use.

He keeps one hand holding your wrist and uses the other one to pull his cock free. He asks you if you're going to be good and after a nod from you, he readjusts his position as pushes his cock into you, enjoying the way your moan echoes through the large building. With his hand holding your wrists behind your back, you have no way to brace yourself and your face ends up pressed against the cold stone. You don't complain about it though, he filling you up too well to care.

Nami - Thighs

Nami laughs from between your legs as you squirm against the sheets. She could eat you out for hours just to hear the cute noises you make. Even though you've been together for a while, you're still nervous about sex with Nami. She's so confident in herself that she intimidates you.

Nami hasn't touched you yet, taking a moment to appreciate your naked form. When her eyes linger on your pussy for a second too long you try to close your legs in embarrassment but Nami moves fast and grabs your thighs forcing them apart to make room for her face. She briefly scolds you for keeping her from seeing her favourite thing in the world and lowers her face to your cunt. She digs her nails slightly into your skin as she licks over your clit. The way she moans against your pussy has you pushing your hips into her face to get even more. Nami remains unfazed, using her grip to keep you in place as she takes you apart with her tongue.

Reiju - Ass

When Reiju tells you to sit on her face, she means sit on it. none of that hovering bullshit will satisfy her. She wants to taste you more than anything but you just won't listen to her and insist that you'll suffocate her or crush her face - to which she responds that she doesn't see a problem with either of those options.

Sick and tired of your whining and determined to show you a good time, Reiju grabs two handfuls of your ass cheeks and parts them so she can get better access to your hole. In a swift show of strength, she pulls you down against her face, tongue finding your hole immediately. A quick slap to the ass acts as a silent instruction from Reiju to rock yourself against her face. Now that worries have somewhat subsided, you oblige, moving your hips.

Robin - Everywhere

Robin has unlimited hands, which means unlimited ways to please you and hold you. She kneels on bed between your spread legs that are being held open by two stray arms. Similarly, two hands are pinning your wrists down and two more are groping at your chest. Her real hands are focus on your pussy, fingers thrusting and curling inside you. Her smile is soft as she leans over you to kiss you, not stopping her fingers. She shushes you as you whimper at her. She tells you to be quiet in case someone walks in but you don't know if you can.

The added stimulation on your chest combined with Robin's fingers being knuckle deep inside you has you barrelling towards an orgasm embarrassingly fast. Feeling you clench around her fingers, Robin summons another hand to cover your mouth so you don't moan too loudly. She focuses most of her energy on her real hands twisting and pumping enough to make you cum as hard as possible. She has a hrin on her face as she watches your body tense up and juices flood her hand.

Sanji - hands

Ever the hopeless romantic, Sanji likes to take things slowly with you. He was a total virgin when you first started dating and he's loved learning to please you and getting the chance to figure out what makes your body squirm. He's an enthusiastic lover who sees sex as a show of his utter devotion to you.

He whispers affirmations and sweet pet names as ge pushes his cock into you. Almost instinctively, he reaches out to your hands and interlocks your fingers. You can tell by the way his hands squeeze yours that he's just as, if not more, affected by the way your pussy squeezes him. He keeps your hands intertwined above your head as he rocks hips despite his sensitivity, repeating how much he loves you over and over again.

Tashigi - hips

Tashigi was inexperienced but, through some fun explorations with you, had figured out she preferred to put on a strap and take you to cloud 9. She's a service top, deriving pleasure from pleasing you. She's had you beneath her, instructing her on where to kiss and lick and bite to mark you up the way you like it.

She's learned in your short time together how to make you comfortable so when she turns you over onto your hands and knees, she makes sure to tuck a pillow under your hips and smooth a hand down your spine to make sure you're not in an awkward position. Her hands settle at your hips as she pushes her strap into you. The way you moan out as she thrusts her hips goes straight to her core, and she tightens her grip on your hips. When you whimper out a plea to go faster, she doesn't hesitate using her strength to hold your hips still so she can get you at a good angle. She hears your cry of pleasure into the pillows on her bed and throws her concentration into hitting the right spot that's going to have you shaking under her. Her grip is so tight against your skin that it might leave marks when you're done, the thought of which pushes you closer and closer to your orgasm.

Zoro - mouth

Sex with Zoro is always filthy and intimate. You can feel him everywhere in your surroundings and he defiles your pretty body with cum, sweat and saliva. His favourite part of your body is your mouth; he loves when you talk back to him or another crewmember, he loves the blissful satisfied smile that you reserve only for him and he loves the way your pretty lips look stretching to accommodate his huge cock.

He's laid you down on your back and is fingering you open, sucking at your clit. When you beg for his cock he promises you you'll get it, he's just gotta stretch you out first. You cum pretty quickly, Zoro's intensity has you riled up. He helps you work through your orgasm before removing his fingers from you. Instead of locking his own fingers clean, he sucks some of your juices off and then holds his fingers - covered in a mix of your cum and his saliva to your lips.

He tells you that if you're a good girl and suck his fingers clean that he'll finally fuck you the way you want. You accept his fingers into your mouth and suck, bobbing your head slightly as if you were sucking his duck. Zoro's breath hitches as you run your tongue over the pads of his fingers. He pushes his fingers slightly further into your mouth as he pushes the tip of his cock into you. He doesn't move his fingers from your warm wet mouth, using them as a - really hot - makeshift gag to keep you quiet. Watching your muffled squeals around his fingers as he finally bottoms out inside you almost breaks his self control when it comes to sex.

4K notes · View notes

jungwnies · 24 days ago

Text

f1 grid | comforting them

୨ৎ : featuring : all drivers on the grid ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by anon) : comforting your driver boyfriend after they had a bad race </3

୨ৎ : genre : romance & fluff (angsty if you SQUINT) ୨ৎ : tws : some are suggestive ୨ৎ : word count : 3902

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : a monday post cus.. why tf NOT

ʚ・red bull

max verstappen

acts like everything is fine, but you can tell by how quiet he is.

you guide him past media without a word, shielding him physically and emotionally.

cuts everyone off with a clipped “it’s fine,” but lets you stay close.

doesn’t speak much until you’re alone—just sits beside you, jaw clenched.

eventually murmurs, “it was shit today,” without looking at you.

you just nod and take his hand, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

you order food, dim the lights, and make him lay down while you run your fingers through his hair.

he melts slowly, letting the tension fall out of his body.

“you’re like my therapist,” he mutters.

“you’re like my emotional tax return,” you shoot back, and he actually laughs.

yuki tsunoda

starts off convincing himself it’s fine. “it’s okay, just racing. it happens.”

tries to brush it off with humor, but his eyes are a little too glossy.

sits stiffly, arms crossed, forcing himself not to cry in front of anyone.

when you ask if he’s alright, he shakes his head and says, “i don’t wanna talk about it,” voice tight.

but as soon as you wrap your arms around him, he lets out a breath like he’s been holding it for hours.

“i tried so hard today,” he mumbles into your shoulder, and that’s when the tears come.

buries his face in your chest, completely silent except for the way his arms tighten around your waist.

you stroke his back and whisper, “i know. i saw. you did everything you could.”

he doesn’t let go for a long time, just holds you like he needs you to hold the world together.

later, sniffling into your hoodie, he mutters, “don’t tell anyone i cried. but don’t go anywhere either.”

ʚ・mercedes

george russell

“well, that was a masterclass in how not to have a race,” he says, throwing his gloves on the table like he’s commentating his own downfall.

acts unbothered, sipping his water like it’s champagne. “at least i didn’t crash into a wall. small victories.”

makes a passive-aggressive joke about his strategy call, then follows it with “but it’s fine. i love character development.”

when you ask how he really feels, he smirks. “emotionally bankrupt, but thanks for checking.”

keeps pretending he’s over it, but you catch him zoning out mid-shower, forehead against the tile, just breathing.

when you hand him a towel and a soft “you don’t have to keep it together right now,” he just shrugs. “if i let go, i might not get back up.”

you sit with him on the couch, and he rests his head on your lap, finally letting you card your fingers through his hair.

“you make this day slightly less shit,” he mutters, then adds with a cheeky grin, “wanna really take my mind off it?”

you raise a brow. “that subtle, huh?”

he just smirks, pulling you down for a kiss. “come on. don’t make me beg. i’ve had a really bad day.”

kimi antonelli

throws his helmet a little too hard, then immediately panics like "oh shit did i just break it," while storming into the motorhome.

tries to act cool but ends up rage-snacking on chips mid-rant. "why the f—why do i even try?! i’m literally doing everything and the car’s like, ‘no ❤️’"

paces back and forth while voice-cracking through sentences like, "no, it’s fine. it’s cool. it’s just… my whole career. no big deal."

you sit there trying not to laugh because he’s got one sock halfway off and crumbs on his shirt but is fully spiraling like it’s the end of the world.

“am i washed at 18?! is that even possible?”

you calmly hand him a juice box and say, “you’re not washed. you’re dramatic.”

he glares, sucks on the straw aggressively, then slumps down next to you with a loud sigh.

“i hate being a prodigy. too much pressure. should’ve been mediocre and mysterious.”

you rub his back and say, “you’re allowed to have a bad day, baby genius.”

he blinks up at you, lip jutted out. “if i win next weekend can we get matching crocs?”

you nod. he grins. “sick. emotional support footwear incoming.”

ʚ・ferrari

charles leclerc

comes home way too quiet. keys in the bowl, shoes off, straight to the bathroom without a word.

you find him staring at the sink, toothbrush in hand, not even brushing—just zoning out.

“i don’t know what i’m doing wrong,” he says, voice low. “i keep trying and i still mess it up.”

you hug him from behind and rest your chin on his shoulder. he doesn’t flinch, just leans into it with a sigh.

“maybe i’m not good enough anymore,” he mumbles. “maybe they’re right.”

you turn him around gently. “you are good enough. more than enough. stop speaking to yourself like that.”

he blinks fast like he’s trying not to cry, then rests his forehead against yours.

“i just… hate letting you down. even if you say you’re not disappointed.”

you guide him to bed, tug off his hoodie, pull the sheets over both of you. he curls into you instantly like a kid.

“you’re the only part of the day that feels good,” he whispers against your skin.

then, quietly, a little mischievously, “maybe we can end it with something else that feels good?”

you laugh into his hair. “if you’re asking me to kiss it better, just say that.”

“i am. in a poetic way.”

lewis hamilton

he doesn’t storm in. he’s not loud. he just walks through the door a little slower, like the weight of the day is still sitting on his shoulders.

takes his time taking off his shoes, hangs up his coat carefully—like staying in control might keep the emotions at bay.

sits on the edge of the couch with his hands clasped between his knees, eyes distant. “you ever give everything and still feel like it’s not enough?”

you sit beside him without saying a word, letting him talk when he’s ready.

“i don’t mind the criticism. i’ve been through worse. but sometimes it’s like… no one lets you just be human anymore.”

he looks at you with tired eyes, soft but heavy. “i’m not asking to win all the time. i just want to feel like i did something right.”

you lace your fingers with his and lean your head against his shoulder. “you do so much right. more than most ever could.”

he hums low in his chest, squeezes your hand. “you always know what to say.”

eventually pulls you into his lap, buries his face in the crook of your neck like he’s finally letting himself rest.

“just stay close tonight,” he whispers, kissing your shoulder. “you’re the one thing that still feels steady.”

“you’re the one thing that feels like peace.”

ʚ・mclaren

lando norris

kicks his shoes off a little too aggressively when he gets home. “don’t ask,” he mutters before you even say hi.

slumps on the couch, arms crossed, hoodie up, eyes on the ceiling. “today was great. crashed my hopes, ran over my self-esteem, 10/10.”

you offer to talk and he just grumbles, “nope. don’t wanna. gonna repress it. very healthy coping strategy.”

pretends he's fine, scrolls on his phone like he’s not one second away from crumbling. keeps sighing dramatically every five minutes for attention.

refuses to cuddle at first. “i’m mad at the world. leave me in my hoodie cave.” but then two seconds later: “okay but like… you can sit near me. just not touching. but like… close.”

eventually ends up curled into your side, face hidden in your neck. mumbles, “today sucked. i sucked. everything sucked.”

you stroke his hair and he softens immediately. “you don’t suck. you’re just tired. burnt out. you need rest, not punishment.”

“you’re being all soft and wise, it’s disgusting,” he grumbles—but his hand’s gripping your shirt like you might float away.

you kiss his temple. “still want me to leave you in your hoodie cave?”

he pulls the blanket over both of you and whispers, “shut up. you live here now.”

oscar piastri

walks into the room and doesn’t say much. just nods once, drops his bag, and disappears into the bathroom.

you hear the water running—ice cold. he always showers when he’s overwhelmed. said it helps him “reset.”

when he comes out, hair wet, hoodie half-zipped, eyes tired—he looks a little more like himself again. still quiet. still distant. but thawing.

sits next to you on the bed without saying anything, just slowly reaches for your hand and starts tracing circles on your palm.

“i didn’t know how to talk about it without getting angry,” he admits softly. “so i didn’t.”

you nod and lean your head on his shoulder. “you don’t need to explain everything right away. i’ll wait.”

he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “thanks for not pushing me. i just… hate not being enough.”

turns to you with red-tinted eyes. “it’s stupid. it’s just racing. but when it goes wrong, it feels like i’m failing you too.”

you hold his face and say, “you never have to earn being loved. not from me.”

he presses his forehead to yours and whispers, “can i just stay here with you for a while?”

then, a small smile. “also i might’ve left my sanity in the ice bath, but at least you’re here.”

ʚ・aston martin

fernando alonso

he comes home calm, like always. keys on the counter, jacket folded neatly. but there’s a tightness in his smile when he kisses your cheek.

“today was… different,” he says. not dramatic, not upset. just honest. “did everything right. still fell short.”

you know when it hits him—it’s in the way he lingers at the window, watching the sky like it has answers.

“some days you feel time catching up with you,” he says quietly. “not just in racing. in everything.”

he doesn’t need you to fix it. he doesn’t even need a pep talk. just presence.

you sit beside him on the couch, thigh to thigh, and rest your hand on his. he doesn’t speak for a while.

then, softly, “i think it just hurts more when you still want it this badly.”

you turn to face him. “it’s not weakness to want. it means you’re still alive in it.”

he smiles a little, shakes his head. “you’re too poetic for me.” but he leans in, rests his head against yours anyway.

“you help me breathe on days like this,” he murmurs. “even if i don’t say it.”

then after a pause, he smirks. “also… i might require some very specific stress relief later. for mental health reasons.”

you laugh. “is that what we’re calling it now?”

“doctor’s orders.”

lance stroll

walks in without a word, drops his stuff, and immediately faceplants onto the bed—fully dressed, shoes still on.

groans into the mattress. “everything sucks. i suck. the car sucks. media sucks. people suck.”

doesn’t want to talk at first, just grunts when you ask if he’s hungry. ��no. actually, yes. but i don’t wanna move.”

you bring him snacks and he eats them off your plate like a sleepy gremlin, mumbling, “you’re the only good thing today.”

flops his head into your lap and finally breathes properly for the first time all day. “i hate how drained i get. everyone wants something. i just wanna be here.”

you run your fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes, murmuring, “i think i used my entire personality quota at the track.”

“can we just stay in here forever? like… disappear? change our names? move to a mountain town?”

you smile and nod. “sure. i’ll pack the stuff.”

he grins sleepily, then pulls your hand to his chest. “you make everything feel less loud.”

then, quietly: “you’re my safe place.”

five minutes later, fully under the blanket, eyes half-closed: “also. i’d like to make out now. for comfort purposes.”

ʚ・williams

alex albon

walks in already scrolling tiktok, earbuds in, nodding like he’s totally unbothered.

plops onto the couch, legs across your lap, and shows you cat videos like he didn’t just get roasted by strategy and a five-place penalty.

laughs too loud at dumb memes. “this is healing. this is therapy.”

you let him vibe, let him chill, until you see that slight pause mid-scroll. his thumb hovers. brows knit. he doesn’t show you this one.

“people are brutal today,” he mutters, still staring at the screen. “like… i know i joke about it, but sometimes i wonder if they’re actually right.”

you take his phone gently, set it down, and crawl into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. “hey. you know they’re not.”

he exhales slowly, voice quieter now. “i wish it didn’t get to me, but some days it does. just a little more than i’d like to admit.”

you press your forehead to his. “you don’t have to be funny about everything. you’re allowed to feel it too.”

he nods, lips pressed together. then, soft as ever: “can you just… hold me for a bit? like properly?”

“always,” you whisper. and he lets himself be still. no jokes. just you.

carlos sainz

he comes in with that tired-but-trying smile, tossing his bag down gently like even that feels heavy.

“it wasn’t… great. but i learned something. that’s always the takeaway, no?” he says, already slipping off his jacket.

he talks himself through it out loud, mostly to you but partly to himself. “maybe i pushed too hard. maybe the strategy wasn’t perfect. but i didn’t give up. that matters.”

you nod and hum and let him vent until he runs out of words and just stares at the wall in thoughtful silence.

“can i have a hug now?” he asks suddenly, already walking over like he knows the answer.

wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face in your shoulder. “you’re the only place i feel like i can breathe after a day like this.”

you guide him to the couch and he pulls you into his lap, burying his face into your neck like it recharges him.

“even if i’m okay… i still need this. i think everyone does, sometimes.”

he starts to drift off mid-cuddle, fingers tracing your spine lazily, voice getting slower.

“i should just speak spanish. english is too much work when i’m tired,” he mumbles against your skin.

then whispers, “gracias por amarme incluso cuando me siento roto.” (thank you for loving me even when i feel broken.)

you press a kiss to his forehead. “always.”

“te juro que voy a mejorar. para ti. para mí.” (i swear i’m going to get better. for you. for me.)

ʚ・haas

ollie bearman

bursts into the room like he just won the race. “alright! that was a trainwreck. who wants to start the post-race roast?”

keeps making jokes like, “honestly, i think i invented new ways to mess up today. f1 history books: written by me.”

you raise an eyebrow and say nothing, just letting him go off while he rants about strategy, traffic, “and my stupid left foot that forgot how to brake.”

finally crashes onto the couch, staring at the ceiling with a dramatic sigh. “do you think i peaked at 17?”

you crawl into his lap and cup his face gently. “no. i think you haven’t even scratched the surface of what you’re capable of.”

he blinks up at you, smile faltering for just a second. “yeah? even after… whatever that was today?”

“especially after that,” you say, brushing a thumb over his cheek. “you care. you fight for it. that’s what makes you special.”

he exhales, the tension leaving his body all at once as he buries his face in your chest. “okay, now i’m gonna cry like a little baby, hope you’re ready.”

you kiss the top of his head. “already holding you. already proud.”

he peeks up with a grin. “can you say that again but like, with sparkles and dramatic background music?”

you laugh. “ollie bearman, you are a legend in the making.”

“that’s the energy. now kiss me before i start doing self-deprecating tiktoks.”

esteban ocon

comes home calm, too calm, like he’s holding everything in with white knuckles and discipline.

doesn’t speak until he’s showered, changed, and had a full 20 minutes of silence. then sits beside you and says softly, “he was better today. i saw it.”

you know he means another driver—someone younger, someone faster today—and you can hear the frustration in his restraint.

“maybe i’m not doing enough,” he mutters, barely above a whisper. “maybe i’m the weak point.”

you try to stop him, but he just shakes his head. “i’m not fishing. i just… feel it. and i hate it.”

he’s not angry. he’s just disappointed in himself. his brows stay pinched even when you’re stroking his hand.

“i’m scared that if i don’t prove it now, no one will believe in me later.”

you climb into his lap and hold his face gently, forcing him to look you in the eye. “you don’t need to prove anything to be worthy of love. or respect.”

he leans into your touch, eyes closed. “i want to believe that. i do.”

you kiss his cheek. “then start here. start with me. i’ve always believed in you.”

he lets out a shaky breath and whispers, “merci…” then rests his forehead against yours like he’s anchoring himself back to solid ground.

ʚ・racing bulls

liam lawson

walks in tossing his hat onto the kitchen counter and mutters, “well that was a steaming pile of absolute crap.”

jokes about it in that dry way. “should’ve just driven a shopping trolley. might’ve gotten better results.”

he’s pacing while he talks, voice calm but clipped. “not even mad at anyone specifically. just… the whole bloody universe.”

you lean on the doorframe, arms crossed. “want me to fight the universe?”

he smirks, shaking his head. “nah. that’s my job. but i appreciate the backup.”

doesn’t take it out on you at all—in fact, he’s more affectionate. keeps reaching for your hand while he vents.

“i know it’s just one race. i do. but it builds up, y’know? starts to feel like you’re yelling into a void and it’s all echo.”

you guide him to the couch and let him rest his head in your lap. “you’re allowed to yell. i’ll hear it. even if the world doesn’t.”

he sighs and looks up at you with that soft, slightly crooked smile. “you’re dangerously good at this, you know that?” “at what?”

“loving me out of a bad mood.”

then he tilts his head and adds, completely casual, “might need a little… extra cheering up later though.”

you roll your eyes. “that what you’re calling it now?”

he grins. “what can i say? i’m a man of simple needs.”

isack hadjar

bursts through the door like a tornado. “I AM RETIRING. I’M QUITTING. I’M GOING TO OPEN A BAKERY. OR JOIN A CULT. SOMETHING PEACEFUL.”

flings his bag across the room, misses the couch, and nearly knocks over a lamp. doesn’t even blink.

“do you know how humiliating it is to be passed like that? i was driving my heart out and the car was like, ‘no...NOPE..NOOOO.’”

keeps fake-dramatizing it like a one-man soap opera. “isack hadjar: the fall from grace – coming soon to a streaming platform near you.”

you play along for a bit until he finally plops onto the floor at your feet and just… sits. quietly.

“i was actually trying today,” he mumbles, not looking at you. “like properly trying. and it still went to shit.”

you sit down beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and he leans into you slowly like he’s deflating.

“sometimes i feel like people are just waiting for me to fail so they can say they knew it.”

you turn to him gently. “they’re not. and even if they were… you’ve already proven them wrong just by showing up the way you do.”

he rests his head on your shoulder with a sigh. “you’re annoyingly good at this whole ‘being nice to me’ thing.”

you grin. “want me to stop?”

“no,” he mutters, snuggling closer. “never. might need it tattooed on me actually. in comic sans.”

ʚ・alpine

pierre gasly

slams the door just a little too hard. doesn't say anything at first—just kicks off his shoes, throws his phone on the table, and heads straight to the kitchen for water like it personally wronged him.

“they don’t listen. doesn’t matter what i say. it’s like talking to a fucking wall,” he mutters, pacing like he’s ready to punch a pillow.

you try to say something gentle and he snaps a little too fast—“i’m fine, okay?” but it’s not sharp. it’s exhausted.

he keeps moving around the room, hands on his hips, jaw clenched. “maybe i should stop caring. maybe that’s the trick.”

you don’t respond—you just walk over and wrap your arms around him from behind. he tenses for half a second. then sighs.

“you always do that,” he mumbles, not pulling away. “just… hug me until i stop being mad.”

you press your cheek to his back. “because i know you’re not really mad. you’re tired. and hurt.”

he turns around and buries his face in your neck like it’s the only safe place he knows. “i hate that they make me feel like this. like i’m not enough.”

you kiss his hair. “you are. always have been.”

he holds you tighter, breath shaky. “i don’t say it enough, but… i need you. especially on days like this.”

then, muffled: “also if you kiss me again i’ll probably forget what i was mad about. just sayin’.”

jack doohan

in front of the team? stone-faced. cool. collected. “yeah, not the best day. we’ll move on. it’s fine.”

comes home? immediately sighs the second the door closes. rests his forehead against the wall for a solid ten seconds before moving.

tries to act chill around you too. “it’s just one of those days. happens. i’m fine.”

he is not fine. but he’s doing that thing where he says he’s okay while avoiding eye contact and changing the subject every 3.2 seconds.

“you hungry?” he asks, even though he’s barely eaten since breakfast. “we could order something. or not. i don’t care.”

you eventually pull him onto the couch, and he lets himself flop next to you, arms crossed like a sulky cat.

he won’t say it outright, but his knee is bouncing, his fingers are twitching, and he keeps glancing at you like he wants permission to crack.

“i just hate looking like i don’t belong here,” he finally mumbles, voice low. “like i’ve got something to prove every second.”

you crawl into his lap and cup his jaw, making him look at you. “you belong. you’re not failing. you’re learning. that’s what makes you good.”

his lips part like he wants to argue, but then he just exhales and wraps his arms around you like you’re the only thing holding him up.

“it’s stupid,” he whispers. “i didn’t want to need comfort today. but here i am.”

you smile. “i don’t mind. i like being the person you let your guard down with.”

he looks at you with soft eyes and the tiniest grin. “well… if i’m already emotionally vulnerable and pathetic… might as well make out about it?”

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obsessivevoidkitten · 8 months ago

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Your Knight in Shining Armor

Kinktober 2024 Day 1: Whump Yandere Male Royal x Male Reader AND (separately) Yandere Male Dragon Hybrid x Male Reader CW: Painful noncon, blowjobs, minor physical abuse, verbal abuse, homophobia, internalized homophobia, bullying, kidnapping, minor character death, implied minor character murder, non-human genitalia, emotional trauma, angst, hurt with little comfort, humiliation, degradation, shame, a lot of crying, general yandere behavior, possessive yandere, whump, Dead Dove: DO NOT EAT Word Count: 3.5k (I decided to make my own list of kinks/scenarios for kinktober. I am only posting every other day and not everything is a full fic, though there are several full fics in the mix. This has been a labor of love for you my beautiful readers, please enjoy!)

The Prince of Thornhollow, Percival, was pampered and spoiled by his royal upbringing. He seemed to have been almost blessed. Not just by birth but also in ability. In contests with his knights, he was always the victor, and in his hunts, he had always been successful. The skill he possessed only served to grow his sense of superiority.

He also delighted in cruelty. All of this was unleashed upon castle servants. Since you were his personal servant, you suffered the most abuse by far. The prince tripped you, made fun of you, ridiculed you for the smallest things, and smacked you around whenever he was upset.

A few times he forced you to jerk him off and look at him while you licked the cum from his cock. He loved the humiliation in your eyes.

"You should be thanking me for letting you taste the royal seed with your peasant mouth."

It wasn't a suggestion. You had to thank him. He berated you afterward for being a girl and liking dick. It was an open secret that you fancied other men, and it was a favorite subject for Percival to pick at.

Sadly his sexual abuse didn’t end there. One time, when he was drunk on wine and you had been cleaning his chambers, he suddenly pinned you against the wall and kissed you roughly on the mouth. Sloppy and uncoordinated, you could taste the wine.

You flinched from his touch, sure that it was a cruel joke. And even if it wasn't your first kiss, you should have been from someone you loved, not someone you feared.

Percival grabbed your wrists to stop your squirming.

"Stop fighting, slut."

His words were harsh but his voice had a certain softness that you were not accustomed to from him. It was obviously the alcohol.

"You're gay, I'm an attractive man, I know you want this."

You yelped as he spun you around and grinded against your ass. You had no choice but to comply with his every whim... he was royalty. He nuzzled your neck and cooed into your ear.

"You're shaking so much, I bet your trembles will feel so good from inside you."

Percival pulled your pants down, followed by his. He took a gob of precum from his cock and massaged it into your hole.

"I bet you can't believe your luck, having the prince do this to you."

He slid a finger into you, followed by another. You wept silently as he squirmed inside your ass to stretch you out.

"I'm not a gay freak like you, this is just your reward for being such a good servant all these years. You deserve it."

The prince sucked and kissed your neck as he slowly pierced you with his cock.

You gasped for breath as the pain made you speechless. You would have fallen to the ground had Percival not been propping you up with his strong hands. There was a resounding smack as his nuts hit your ass with every thrust. You tried to squirm free, instinct overriding the attempt to obey a superior, but Percival wrapped his arms around you tightly.

"Just try to relax. You'll love it. I know you'll love my cock."

He nibbled on your ear and trailed kisses down your neck.

"Stop crying, you're being really ungrateful... it's starting to annoy me..."

He began going at a crueler pace in his frustration. He felt between your legs and you were barely even hard. He thought you'd love this, there were prevalent rumors that several knights had used you as a convenient cumdump and he was obviously better than they were. Of course, you were a virgin, and the prince was robbing you of your first time in the most brutal fashion.

After filling you with his cum he let you slump to the floor as he sneered.

He was still drunk, but his orgasm brought a bit of clarity, letting his elitism and internalized homophobia bubble back to the surface where it mingled with his disappointment and insecurity at the fact that sex with him wasn't enjoyable for you.

He was too ignorant to know that much better lube and stretching needed to be used while you were more relaxed. Percival wiped himself off with a rag and then threw it at you with a look of disgust.

"Clean yourself up, then get the hell out and don't let anyone know, or I'll cut out your tongue."

You wiped the cum and blood from you quickly and staggered to your feet before hobbling away while sniffling. He didn't do anything like that again, not even force you to suck him, but he did treat you worse for weeks.

His disposition finally went back to his normal level of disdain when he finally got his new set of enchanted armor. It was white and black, with silver and gold filigree. It became your most important set of tasks, fetching, polishing, and putting away his armor as well as helping him into it. Though even when it was perfectly polished, it was not unheard of for you to get a minor thrashing at the hands of the prince.

The life you had was pretty miserable. Even though the prince acted as a tyrant to his personal servant, you, he protected his and the crown’s image. It helped that the royal family's policies and skills at governing resulted in a fairly content lower class. Percival, especially, was beloved by many. The handsome prince with his blood red hair and muscular physique. He was quite charming and had drawn the affection of many noble ladies. This meant you couldn't find an escape or even speak badly about the prince because you would surely be ratted out.

So you went about tending to the prince as best you could and just hoping that he wasn't in a foul mood at any given time. But the prince wasn't the only thing you had to worry about.

There was a dragon-man hybrid, Rinvir, that had been attracted by a certain shiny gleam. He found that it was the valuable armor of the prince.

Of course, it may be good to have someone tend to the armor sometimes. Maybe they could polish other treasures for him. When he watched you shine the armor, he couldn't help but think how nice it would be to have your delicate human hands tend to his "sword" too. And maybe how good it would feel "sheathed" inside of you.

Rinvir wouldn't just mate with a human for such a flimsy reason, so he stalked you and the prince. Whenever he was hunting with you as his assistant, whenever you were in the training fields helping him put on his armor, whenever you were alone and tending to your outdoor duties.

He hated the prince but fell deeply in love with you. You were so kind and soft-spoken, so diligent with your work no matter what the task.

Rinvir wanted you even more than the immensely valuable armor. He still wanted the armor in his hoard, though, too. It would spite the prince nicely.

The dragon-man waited until a lovely clear day when you were just about to help Percival into his armor. He was screaming at you to hurry up as you were struggling with its immense weight. Rinvir swooped down and snatched you right up, armor and all. A flash of shiny blue scales was all the prince saw before you were gone. He stood there dumbfounded for a moment before collecting himself.

"But... that one was... mine..."

He had to have yo-, no, his... armor back. It was so valuable and had been forged partly by magical means. Luckily, his father, the king, agreed. It was an insult to their rule to let such a slight go unpunished.

Dragon-men were strong, but the prince had a good number under his command, his own talents, and the magic of the court wizard backing him up. He'd have his precious peasant back by any means! And this time, he'd not let silly shit like fear of rumors and homophobia stop him from holding you close in bed while rearranging your guts.

Oh, uh... and he'd have his fancy enchanted armor back... that was what he was really worried about... the armor... yeah...

Meanwhile, at the formerly abandoned lakeside temple that Rinvir called home, you were crying. A giant man with shaggy unkempt hair, huge blue wings, horns, and scales up and down his arms and legs had just made off with you. Surely he would eat you or kill you for sport.

"Shhh, calm down, delicate thing."

He took you to his underground treasure room and put the armor on a stand then gave his undivided attention to you.

"You're my new favorite treasure!"

He nuzzled into your neck and licked your cheek, causing you to shudder.

"I-I'm not a treasure... j-just take me back home!"

He laughed. That wasn't happening.

"And go back to that abusive royal? Not a chance. You're gonna be my mate."

At first, you were borderline hostile. Then you were extremely reluctant. But as the days and weeks turned into months, you became more and more amicable to your self-appointed boyfriend. Rinvir did so much for you. He set up a little garden so you could enjoy outside time because you always looked at peace during your brief moments in the palace gardens.

He caught food for you. Though you did have to prepare it, he was no chef. But you had to prepare fresh meat on the prince's hunts all the time. But now you got to cook it how you preferred and Rinvir left you the best bits.

When you were sore, he gave the best massages.

When you slept, he held you tight to provide warmth.

When it came to sex Rinvir was a patient and gentle lover. So far, you had only pleased him with your mouth and hands, and he had returned the favor. His cock was thick and slimy but you actually enjoyed how it felt in your hands and the taste wasn’t bad either. He never pressured you into anything and was content with letting you explore what you liked at your own pace.

He really was your savior. Your dragon in shining scales.

It had been three months. Three agonizing months without his manservant. His beloved. His father had ordered him to give up the search because at this point, it was getting costly, and the prince had matters of state that needed attending. They could always make new armor and still investigate in smaller numbers if there were solid leads about the dragon.

That wasn't acceptable to Percival. His servant was probably dead or, at the very least, being tortured by a beast. It had been so long, and there were no guarantees that you were still alive. Percival had to have closure and revenge. Even if you were alive, he'd need revenge for having to endure without you, and you had surely missed him. If you were still hanging on you probably felt abandoned.

His father wouldn't budge. And when, in desperation, Percival had told him he valued and needed your friendship, his father had laughed him out of the throne room.

Unfortunately for you, his father came down with a sudden case of "died in the middle of the night." It was assumed he had succumbed to his advanced age, though that wasn’t the case.

King Percival redoubled the efforts into finding that thief of a dragon. It took an extra month after his ascension to the throne, but he had discovered rumors of a shimmering blue dragon-man. Percival spared no expense. Took no chances. He surrounded the entire area with well over 100 troops and had hired an additional two mercenary mages to work alongside the court wizard. They had used great magic to keep the approach silent.

It was the middle of the night when they made their move. Rinvir heard them approach and woke you up quickly.

"I think the prince found us! There's a lot of them. I can't believe they got so close without me noticing!"

He held you in his arms and planned to fly off with you through the temple's tower window.

You were too frightened to speak, but you had confidence in Rinvir's ability to get you to safety.

Rinvir spread his wings and leapt from the window. But a beam of light made by the combined magic of the King's sorcerers pulled the two of you to the ground.

Percival's heart leapt at the sight of you. He could scarcely believe you were still alive. This was amazing. He'd take you back, marry you at once, keep you safe, and heal you from whatever trauma this brute subjected you to.

"SLOWLY!!! He has my betrothed!!"

Yes, he was quickly paralyzed with powerful magic, and you were pried from his grasp.

Your knightly king would have you soon. Percival would make up for every bad word he ever uttered to you, for every humiliation, for hurting you the first time the two of you had made love because he had assumed you were more experienced.

He felt silly for having brought a small army when all he had needed were a few powerful magic users. They brought you to him, and he hoisted you into one of the wagons that had been brought to take back the dragon's treasures.

Percival removed his replacement armor and pulled you right into his lap. You had been shocked into silence with everything having moved so fast. One moment, you were snuggled up with Rinvir, your love, and suddenly, you found yourself in the lap of the man who made you hate life. Who's touch made you want to vomit.

You tried to shake him off and escape his hold.

"M-my Rinvir... I got to see Rinvir..."

"Who? That glorified lizard? Has he brainwashed you!? They say the best way to break such magic is with the touch of a loved one."

His hands were all over you as he peppered you with small kisses.

"Forget that monster, you're safe now, I promise."

"Y-you don't understand! I love him! Please let us go!"

He held you tightly with one arm as he began stripping you down with the other.

"I know just the thing to break this bewitchment."

Percival figured even if you weren't under the power of a spell that giving you his cock and making you feel good would still help you get over your overgrown lizard. The king kept you on his lap but turned you to face him. He swallowed up all of your protests with a deep hungry kiss, his tongue rolling around your mouth as it invaded you.

You started thrashing more as his finger grazed your hole. He held you tight as he leaned over and grabbed a vial from a box underneath his seat. He had this wagon prepared for your rescue if it was successful.

“Please don't. J-just let me go back...”

He put the contents on his fingers and massaged them diligently into your hole, slowly adding more digits until you could handle four of them with ease. Then he slicked up his large cock.

"Don't worry. This will be so much better than last time. I'll be the only man you ever think of after this."

His mouth attended to your neck as he slid into you slowly, going at a slow pace and making sure he hit a spot in you with each thrust that made you shudder and keen.

Percival had to admit that it was his fault your first time was awful. But he had consulted books since then. If he had been this attentive the first time, he could have been bedding you for a long time. You wept silently as your body betrayed you entirely, Percival assumed that the pleasure was just too much for you. You came intensely, spurting cum all over his hard abs and chest.

He went faster, still careful to go at a pace that wouldn't hurt you, as he chased his own climax. Being inside you finally and seeing your face as it was so ruined by pleasure sent him over the edge, and he filled your bowels with his semen.

"See!? Isn't that so much better? We can do it all the time now! I forgot to tell you! I'm the king!!!"

He held you close, burying your face in his pecs as he rubbed your back.

"If anyone gives us shit for being gay I'll cut their tongue out."

Percival was worried because you kept shaking and sobbing, but when you cried about wanting to go back to Rinvir, his attitude went icy. He peeled you off of his dick and cleaned you up roughly but then sat you across from him.

He had to remind himself that you had suffered great trauma, and it would likely take time to heal since it clearly wasn't a mere spell that had been laid upon you. He had to remain kind to you because it wasn't your fault, and a king shouldn't treat his betrothed too harshly.

Besides, he still had to make up for all the torture he put you through.

But he was not known for his patience. As the weeks passed, he grew increasingly irritable and could no longer handle your ceaseless whingeing about Rinvir.

Percival arranged for you to meet the piece of trash.

He took you down to the dungeon where you saw Rinvir. He was encased in a solid block of some type of enchanted glass or maybe even magical ice, completely unable to move. You fell to your knees and pressed your hands to the surface of the material as you cried his name. You hadn't seen him since you were ripped from his arms, you hadn't even known whether or not he survived!

"He's still alive, you know?"

Percival leaned down and spoke softly into your ear.

"I was going to have him displayed in the throne room, but that would have been too cruel to you, and I do love you so."

The depraved king applied a special lube to his fingers. One that was guaranteed to make you cum hard.

"He can see and hear everything. Since you cry for him so much in my presence, it is only fair that he hears how I make you moan and cry in pleasure."

You were crying so desperately that Percival's words hardly registered at all. Only when he pulled down your leggings did you realize his intent. You squirmed and writhed as he put the lube in you, feeling a strange heat inside you as he rubbed it in.

He gripped your hips and lined up with your hole, your crying face looking down shamefully to avoid seeing Rinvir as Percival took you.

His cock kissed that spot inside you and instantly you started moaning. It was like he was pumping a surge of ecstasy into you with every thrust. Though tears fell to the cold dungeon floor as he fucked into you, you couldn't help arching your back and moving against every thrust in an effort to feel it more deeply.

It was something you had never done before while Percival "made love" to you.

Percival greatly increased the pace. He wanted Rinvir to hear the smack every single time he drove into you, wanted you to hear the squelch from the precum and lube as he pressed into you, and most of all wanted him to hear all the pretty little gasps and moans HIS fiancé was making that HE had caused.

Percival's throbbing cock spilled rope after rope of semen into you, causing you to practically collapse to the floor in a riot of bliss as you came. You buried your head in your arms in humiliation and guilt. Your loving king angled your head up and forced you to look at Rinvir.

"It probably hurts him a great deal to see you like this, don't you think? From now on, anytime you mention his name, I am going to bring you down here and breed you right in front of him."

Percival sneered evilly at Rinvir. He knew from your defeated expression that he had won. The king kissed and comforted you as he picked you up to take you to bed. You had a long day, and tomorrow there was a wedding to start planning... now that you were over your ex...

He left the mess that had pooled out of you right where it had fallen. Rinvir could look at all the cum he had put into you for a while as a reminder of what Percival did to those who would dare take what was his.

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gothcsz · 2 months ago

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Flex | Your Favorite Pedro Boy x F!Reader | ~2.3k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI. | ACCOMPANYING ART BY @/KING-SIMP

Summary: Hooking up with the guy you picked up at a party.

Tags: smut, pwp, pussy eating, face riding, dirty talk, bicep/arm worship, cum eating, lots of kissing, a good time all around, no use of y/n, reader is afab and able-bodied, no physical descriptions, barely beta'd/edited so any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!

A/N: we're all going feral over pedro's biceps so i had to write this. for the culture. i couldn't decide which character of his to write it about, so i tried to write this as ambiguous as possible so that the majority could delude alongside me 🙂‍↕️ (for me, it's our beloved general marcus a because oof the brainrot for that man is real asf) thank you to everyone who has been horny about this with me today, i am so glad we are all on the same page🖤 i hope you guys like it and as always, please let me know what you think and which p-boy you imagined, hehe enjoy cariños. 🖤

“C’mon, I can feel you holding back.”

Your hips keep their steady rhythm, grinding against his face, his tongue relentless against your clit while his nose presses deep inside you. The curve of it sends shockwaves through your body, your eyes rolling back as you ride his mouth.

He's right—you are holding back. Not because you want to, but because you're afraid of what will happen if you let go completely.

“Feels s-so good just like this,” you whimper, nails digging into the firm muscle of his thighs. His cock, flushed and leaking, rests on his stomach, aching for attention. But he told you not to worry about him—that his pleasure comes from making you fall apart on his tongue, from turning your brain into nothing but static and heat.

And while you are tempted to lower your face, wrap your lips around his swollen, red tip and suck the soul right out of his cock, you really cannot function straight with how expertly he is working your cunt.

“I want more.” He growls, the bite of his grip into your supple skin making you hiss in pain then moan in bliss when he picks up the intensity and pace of his mouth, forcing you to move the way he wants you to.

You let it happen.

The sounds spilling from your lips fill the dimly lit room, the glow from the bedside lamp casting everything in a warm, filthy haze. You keep going, ecstasy cresting higher and higher, until sobs rip from your throat and your body convulses, shaking in his grasp. He doesn’t rush you, doesn’t slow down—just keeps that perfect pace until tears slip from your eyes and drip onto his thighs. He’s wrung you out completely.

“Mmmm, you taste so good, baby.”

His voice is thick with satisfaction, but you barely register it. All you can focus on is the slow drag of his calloused hands over your skin as he shifts you off his face, rolling you onto your back. You stare dazedly at the ceiling fan, watching its lazy rotations while you try to remember how to breathe.

He grunts, sitting up, licking his lips and wiping his nose of your essence before he crawls over you, bracing himself on his strong forearms. Even through the haze, you take a moment to admire his handsome features—the sharp curve of his jaw, his facial hair, those beautiful brown eyes that had stolen your breath the moment they locked onto yours.

“You are the hottest man I’ve ever seen in my life.”

He chuckles, leaning down to kiss you passionately, slipping his tongue in your mouth and you moan at the taste of your pussy on his lips, mingling with his spit.

“And you’re so fucking pretty.”

Your cheeks heat, skin still buzzing, a smile tugging at your lips as you try to hide your gleeful expression from this man you only met this afternoon at a mutual friend’s party.

You turn your head, gaze sweeping over his exposed arms. The dim light casts deep shadows, accentuating every carved muscle, the sinewy stretch of tendons beneath his tanned skin. His biceps flex subtly as he holds himself above you, powerful yet controlled, his weight perfectly balanced as he lowers himself to your neck. His lips press hot and teasing against your throat, the rough graze of his stubble sending a shiver down your spine.

His body fits effortlessly between your thighs, and when the thick underside of his cock glides against your used, aching pussy, a fresh wave of lust crashes over you.

Your hands move before your mind catches up, fingers sliding over his arms, claiming each one. You trace the dips and ridges, marveling at the warmth of his skin, the scattering of freckles dotting his forearms, the small scars and imperfections that tell stories you want to hear later—much later while wrapped in his embrace. Right now, all you care about is how impossibly good he feels beneath your fingertips, how every flex and twitch makes your cunt clench around nothing.

You’re so lost in your worship of him that you barely register the words murmured against your neck, his breath hot and teasing while you grind against each other.

“What’s got you so distracted?” He rasps a bit tauntingly, licking the shell of your ear before nipping at your lobe, pulling back and following your gaze.

“These arms…” you moan, arching into him, your breasts pressing against the hard planes of his chest as you tilt closer to the one nearest you. Your lips part, kissing the inside of his wrist, mouth open and wanting.

“Yeah?” His tone is dripping with cocky satisfaction. You ignore it, too lost in the pulse beating beneath your tongue, the intoxicating mix of salt and skin as you bite down just enough to make him grunt.

“Fucking hell, just look at you,” he tuts, his eyes dark with hunger. His hips roll, grinding his cock against your slick folds, but you’re too enraptured with his arms to care. Your other hand strokes the length of his opposite bicep, fingers squeezing, feeling the tension coiled within. You moan softly, delirious, rubbing your cheek against him like you could somehow get closer.

“All fucked out and slobbering all over my wrist.”

His words make your stomach tighten, exhilaration coiling deep, and you don’t even try to stop yourself when you turn your attention to his other arm, kissing, sucking, worshiping. He watches, letting you indulge, letting you lose yourself in the way his body makes you fall apart without him even trying. He’s amused by it, his expression equal parts fondness and possessive satisfaction.

You’re riding the high of being under one of the sexiest men to ever grace this fucking planet.

When you finally pull back, a thin string of spit trailing between your lips and his skin, you look up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, a slow, sultry smile curving your mouth. It sparks something in him—an idea.

“I know what I want you to do next.”

Your brow lifts slightly in curiosity. He leans in, brushing a kiss over the tip of your nose, soft, deceptively sweet, before pulling away entirely. The loss of his warmth makes you pout.

Then he settles back against the pillows, getting comfortable—purposefully flexing his arms, making every muscle ripple beneath his skin. Your breath catches, heart pounding, thighs clenching involuntarily. He sees it. Smirks.

“C’mere.” He beckons.

Like a cartoon character floating toward a pie on a windowsill, you crawl toward him, heart-eyed and desperate, ready to sink down on his cock and ride him until either of you can breathe. But he stops you.

“Not there, baby. Up here.” He flicks his chin towards his left bicep and you look at him quizzically despite the intrigue that beats at your pussy.

“What—”

“Now.”

A command, rough and final.

You moan, nodding, unbothered by how desperate you must look as you reposition yourself, thighs bracketing his thick arm. He helps you adjust until everything aligns just right, until your drenched pussy hovers over the sculpted muscle, the heat of his skin radiating and caressing your swollen clit.

“Get yourself off on it.”

His free hand drifts down, wrapping around his cock, fingers tightening around the thick shaft. His fat thumb circles the swollen head, smearing precum in slow, teasing strokes.

This is the hottest thing you've ever experienced. There's no way this is real.

But you don’t waste time questioning it—not when you’re in the middle of the filthiest, most intoxicating hook-up of your life.

Bracing yourself with one hand on his broad shoulder, the other groping your breast, you lower yourself onto his bicep. The first grind against the smooth heat of his skin is heavenly.

“Oh my fucking god—”

Your moan is wrecked, unabashedly obscene, your nails digging into his shoulder as your slick coats his arm, making it easier to rock against him. Each movement sends a fresh pulse of pleasure shooting through your body, your swollen clit dragging over the hard, flexing muscle.

He groans, low and appreciative, before letting go of his cock and bringing his palm up to your lips, lust darkened eyes boring into yours. A silent request.

You lazily smile, licking your lips before gathering saliva in your mouth. Then, deliberately, you spit into his open palm, watching as his expression flares with hunger. You wink, but before you can fully revel in your power over him, his bicep twitches—his arm bending at the elbow as his fingers tighten around your ass.

“Oh!” A sharp yelp escapes you, thighs squeezing involuntarily at the sudden jolt of sensation.

He smirks at your reaction, smug and thoroughly entertained, his wet hand returning to his cock. And then he starts stroking himself.

The lewd sounds of slicked skin meeting skin fill the room, each pump of his fist producing an obscene slap against his pelvis. You watch, transfixed, as his other arm flexes, veins and tendons bulging with every controlled stroke.

His bicep expands and contracts beneath you, a living, breathing thing you can't stop grinding against. His balls jiggle slightly from the sheer intensity of his motions, his whole body a display of primal, uninhibited rhapsody.

You pinch your nipple, humping his leg and wailing out like a pussy in heat, the visual of him fucking his fist enough to send you over but you want to continue to enjoy this because fuck—is it so hot.

And then there’s the feel of his other hand gripping your ass, the flesh spilling through the divots of his knuckles. His breath is ragged, brows furrowed, a thin bead of sweat trailing down his temple. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, and those pretty brown eyes are locked on you, watching the way you’re going feral on him.

“I’m, oh fuck me,” you break out into a litany of curses before you’re able to fucking think. “I’m so close— ohmygodI’mgonnacome.” Your words run together, spine pulling taught as your orgasm possesses your body.

He laughs, deep and throaty, the sound tapering into a drawn-out groan as his own release lingers on the precipice. His jaw clenches, his body coiling tight.

“Go on,” he growls. “Make a fucking mess.”

And that’s all it takes for you to free fall.

Your thighs clamp around his arm and the motherfucker flexes his bicep again, dragging out your pleasure until you’re nearly delirious. Your hips jerk, fingers yanking at your nipple, riding the euphoric wave until every ounce of bliss is wrung from your body. Your nails rake down his shoulder and across his collarbone, leaving angry red streaks against his brown skin.

“Fuck—” His own release follows, a strangled groan ripping from his throat as hot ropes of cum spill onto his stomach, coating his happy trail, dripping into the dark curls at the base of his cock. His strokes turn brutal, merciless, chasing the last shudders of his orgasm as his grip tightens on your ass, fingers digging deep enough to leave sore spots in the shape of his fingers.

The roaring in your ears dulls, the aftershocks making your limbs tremble. It takes you a moment to realize your eyes had shut completely, the intensity too much to bear. When you finally blink them open, the world is a blur, dark spots dancing in your vision as you struggle to catch your breath.

And when your gaze finally finds his, he’s already watching you—sated, wrecked, and smug as hell.

“Holy shit.”

“That just about sums it up.” His voice is deeper now, having been dragged through the same pleasure-drenched haze as you. You tilt your head, looking down at him, his handsome face making your heart flutter.

“How’re you feeling, baby?”

“Real good.” You giggle, voice airy, light—completely fucked out. You don’t even try to hide it.

He smirks, ego soaring, as it should be. He watches as you shift, your spent body moving off his bicep, your clit still pulsing, raw from how desperately you’d used him. You’re ready to collapse, to melt into the sheets and revel in the afterglow, but then—

Whistle.

A sharp, commanding sound, followed by a tilt of his head toward his arm. Like you’re a pet he’s calling back to heel.

“Can’t just leave it like that.” His tone is lazy, laced with amusement. He wipes the remnants of his release from his hand onto the comforter, utterly unbothered, then reaches for you. His fingers cup the back of your neck, firm yet gentle as he tugs you down, guiding you nose-first into the mess you’d left behind.

“Clean it up.”

And just as you’ve done all night, you obey.

Your tongue flicks out, kitten-licking at his skin, tasting the remnants of your pleasure. The sharp, musky tang floods your senses, making you moan softly as you lap it up, savoring the proof of your own ruin.

“Good girl.” His voice is pure indulgence, his thumb stroking slow, lazy circles against the back of your neck as you work.

Once he’s satisfied, his grip shifts, applying just enough pressure to guide you lower, down his torso, toward the mess he left on himself.

You don’t hesitate.

Your tongue flattens against his stomach, dragging through his release, collecting every drop. You hum at the taste—salt, sweat, and something distinctly him. The coarse hair of his happy trail tickles your lips as you clean him up, the rise and fall of his stomach twitching beneath your touch.

Then, just as you reach his softening cock, you pause—just for a second—before pressing a slow, filthy kiss to the head. A final, lingering seal to your work.

He inhales sharply.

Satisfied, you begin your way back up, lips trailing over his body, over the ridges of muscle, the dip of his collarbone, up the strong column of his throat, until you finally reach his mouth.

The kiss is slow, unhurried, all tongue and warmth, swapping spit and cum like it’s second nature. Swollen lips on swollen lips, bodies still buzzing in the aftershock.

When you finally pull apart, eyes locked, your mouth curls into a flirty smirk.

“What was your name again?”

@almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @ovaryacted . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiamore . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @persephone-girl . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7. @syd-djarin . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @almostfoxglove . @thundermartini . @pigeonmama . @piercethevic03 . @marisemonteiroo . @picketniffler . @getitoutofmymindwrites . @bunniboo0015 . @kirsteng42 . @ivuravix . @joelmillerisapunk . @theestorm . @pasc4lfuzz . @manuymesut . @biapascal . @mandaloriankait .

#pedro pascal #ppcu smut #ppcu fanfiction #kat's writing.

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switchsupremacy · 3 days ago

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pretty princess!

content warning! dominant gender neutral reader, sub male character, feminization, use of pet names, cum play if you squint, fingering (m receiving, met n messy style), mirror sex.

imagine your faves xoxo.

“you’re so fucking m-mean.” he sneers, head falling back against your shoulder. you have him on cool, hard-wood floors. positioned in your lap in front of your full-length mirror. his body twitches and trembles in your grasp, suffering through the onslaught of pleasure. your fingers are unforgiving as they stretch out his tight hole. his long-forgotten cock weeps precum against his tummy as you toy with him. his legs are spread and perched up above yours, giving you view and access to his privates. you only hum in response to his wail.

"i just like to toy with you honey, how's that mean?" you question, tone sickly sweet; juxtaposing the way your fingers bully their way into him. shallow pumps of your digits that press against his prostate with every drag. the slip is easy.. too easy. lube drips from his hole onto the wood, way too much was used. it wasn't an issue -- you liked it messy. liked seeing how sloppy your pretty fella could get.

the incessant schlop and squelch of your fingers has you grinning, nearly drunk off arousal. you vocalize your thoughts - "it's so messy," you breathe, groaning out a rumble from the back of your throat. "wet like a fuckin' girl f'me."

"oh my god--" he gasps, hole quivering around your fingers and tightening like a vice. "oh you liked that." you grin against his neck, kissing and softly sucking marks onto the bare skin. you slow down your attack on his prostate, settling for slower, deeper thrusts with your fingers. the squelch somehow sounds messier this way, piercing the air with the noise.

"you like being my messy little girl, don't you baby?"

he huffs at your teasing, glaring at you through the reflection of the mirror. your smile widens and you pick of the pace of your fingers. your other hand comes up to wrap around his throat, not truly choking him, but holding him in place. he keens at the touch "I need an answer, love. i can feel you gettin' close.. there's no way you think i'm gonna let you come and you can't even answer me.." you hum in his ear, the sultry timbre of your voice rumbles through him like a wave.

"i like it." he says finally, gasping out. "i like being your m-messy.. girl." he whispers, the last part a low whine. you're happy with the admission, staring at him through the reflection. "that wasn't so hard, was it, sweet thing?"

you go back to the unforgiving pace you'd began with. the sudden movement makes him whine as his chest heaves. "c'mon honey. i wanna see this messy little cunt cum fa' me."

curses fly from his mouth like prayers. his body falls limp as he melts into you, wracked with little tremors. he can't even warn you that he's close because the snap happens so abruptly. he tenses and his back arches as much as it could in your restricting grasp. his choked moans sound nearly angelic as he falls apart in your hold. he cums so beautifully, making a mess of his stomach and bucking his hips sporadically.

"attagirl honey, jus' like that." you chew your lip, watching his orgasm wrack his body in the reflection of the mirror. he whines, a sound deep from within his chest, and you take it as a sign to pull your fingers out.

you reach up to smear the mess of cum along his stomach, "my messy, pretty girl."

#dom reader #dom male reader #top reader #top male reader #sub character #sub male character #ambiguous character #gender neutral reader #x male reader

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lhseungs · 2 months ago

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* ˚ ✰ — ‘ INTO IT ’ l.heeseung

. . . WARNINGS / TAGS: idol!heeseung x f!reader, smut (minors dni!), fingering, slight exhibitionism and voyeurism (nobody can see but everybody can hear), sex was consensual but exhibitionism wasn’t, squirting, praise. wc: 850~

. . . SYNOPSIS: heeseung is yours and everyone else can only dream about having him, so he makes sure everybody knows who his one and only is.

. . . AN: my first post on this account! if it looks familiar, i wrote this about a character on my other blog. as always if you enjoy, follow, like, and reblog!

his neck was adorned with a black choker, a chain connected to it hanging down to his chest. his eyes were lined with black eyeliner, making his eyes glow brighter in the dark - you made a mental note to thank his makeup artist later. his red hand mic was in the corner of his dressing room, thrown on the couch and long forgotten. his earpieces were attached, hanging on his neck near his headset microphone. and his fingers, his long and slender fingers, were knuckles deep into your cunt.

many people wanted to be with heeseung. anyone who saw him, no matter their gender, fell in love. whether it was his heavenly voice or his insanely attractive looks, heeseung was loved and wanted by everyone. but his eyes were only focused on you. and he proved it to you by fucking you backstage at every concert.

this time, though, it was different. heeseung decided to keep his mic on and let the whole world know you’re his.

you tried so hard to stay standing, but the way his fingers curled in the right fucking places made you see stars. the room was already dark, but you could tell heeseung was smirking. his lips graced your neck, biting and sucking on the sensitive skin knowing damn well the mark that’ll be left will cause raised eyebrows.

“o-oh my god, hee…” your fingers gripped heeseung’s arm, eyes shitting close as you feel a knot tighten in your abdomen. heeseung curled his fingers once more, reaching just the right places in you, and without warning you came. your juices coated his fingers as your orgasm came over you, but heeeung didn’t cease. sooner than you expected - and at heeseung’s record speed - you came a second time. you squirted all over heeseung’s pants, the liquid dripping down your cunt and onto the floor by your feet.

heeseung removed his fingers from your pussy and licked your juices off of his digits. he knew he didn’t have much time and that his manager would come any minute to tell him that the show would start soon, so he quickly removed his pants and let them drop to the floor as his hard cock sprang free from its restraints. he positioned himself in your entrance and said, “promise me you’ll make as much noise as possible, okay, doll?” and without waiting for an answer, he pushed himself inside of you.

a gasp escaped your lips as he bottomed out. your pretty lips, the lips heeseung wishes he could kiss all day. he took the chance and crashed his lips against yours, drowning out your moans. his tongue explored your mouth as he ruthlessly thrust in you. the mic on his cheek pressed against your own as he tilted your head to go in deeper.

the sound of heeseung pounding into you echoed the walls, your moans and his groans mingled in. your moans were like a melody to heeseung, a song he could never get tired of, a track he would constantly play on repeat no matter how many days go by. the lewd sound of your cunt sucking his cock into you and his balls slapping against you was the tune of his love for you, a ballad that only his ears were blessed enough to hear… except for today. the fact that everyone was able to hear his beautiful album made him unconsciously quicken his pace.

heeseung heard footsteps nearing towards his dressing room, rushing. with a calm expression, he lifted your chin to search for your eyes, and even in the dark, he was able to find them. “whatever you do, don’t stop. let everyone know how good i’m making you feel.” though puzzled, you nodded. heeseung smirked again. “my doll is so obedient.”

heavy banging against the door caused you to jump. heeseung didn’t stop pounding into you, even while his name was being yelled at by his manager, members, and even the security on the other side of the door. you did as you were told and didn’t stop moaning. your walls tightened against heeseung’s cock and you started slowly sliding down the wall. heeseung grabbed your waist and lifted you, then pushed you up against the wall, allowing himself to go deeper.

“‘seung,” his name escaped your lips in a moan, fingers gripping onto his shirt as if he would escape if you let go.

“say it again,” he said, holding you with one arm while his free hand began rubbing your clit.

“heeseung i’m-“

“say it again. who do you belong to?”

the knot in your stomach finally released and your legs began shaking around heeseung’s torso. “fuck, heeseung, fuck!” you screamed out his name, chanting it like it’s the only word in the dictionary, the only word that mattered. like it was a song stuck in your head, constantly on repeat. “you, you! i belong to you!”

heeseung adjusted the mic on his cheek, positioning it in a way he was sure to be heard. through the staff banging against his dressing room door and through your moans as your orgasm washed over you, he said loud and clear, “that’s my girl.”

#heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heeseung smut #enhypen smut #heeseung au #enhypen au #kpop smut #kpop x reader #kpop #kpop au #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung au #enhypen #heeseung hard thoughts #enhypen hard thoughts

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stunie · 10 months ago

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Hear me out. ✋😩🤚 stoner Rindou and Wakasa and being passed around I’m just sayin hear ME OUT

SCREAMING i am hearing u out ands! ok so i don’t write for stoner!character because i feel like i would do a terrible job, however. being passed around ? yes. i would absolutely love to think of that ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

rindou x f!reader x wakasa

contains: explicit smut (18+), threesome, creampie, etc

They’re surprisingly compatible.

Your back is flush against Rindou’s chest, his fingers craning your head to the side as he sticks two fingers into your mouth, content with the way you’re instinctively sucking and licking his digits the second they touch your tongue. You’re doing the best you can anyway— your face is looking so sinful and they’ve barely even started, your eyes teary and half lidded from the way Wakasa is currently flicking his tongue at your click.

“Think she’s ready,” Wakasa grunts from between your legs, satisfied with the way your legs have begun trembling just from his tongue. The second he’s moving up, the fingers previously in your mouth are being stuffed deep inside your cunt, roughly curling against your sensitive walls as you squeal. It only takes you a little longer before you’re squirting, screaming as your juices gush all over Rindou’s hands, and you hear Wakasa sigh.

“Well now she’s definitely ready.”

You find yourself on all fours next, your face just mere inches away from Wakasa’s achy cock as he glances down at you through lidded eyes, hands coming to settle on the back of your head as he guides you closer. Rindou’s behind you, lining his thick cock along your hole before he’s pushing inside with a deep groan.

Your moans are muffled by the cock that’s stretching your throat out, vibrations of your voice pulling the most sinful groans from Wakasa as Rindou fucks you at a brutal pace. Wakasa’s hand is firm against your head, keeping his cock deep inside you, and Rindou’s grip on your thighs is bruising.

It’s only a few minutes in when one of them gets the idea to switch off, one of them moving to ruffle your hair before they’re both making their way behind you.

“Every two minutes?”

“Mhm. Every two minutes.”

You’re being dragged by your ankles next— until only your upper body’s on the mattress, body bent over as you grasp at the sheets. Your eyes are rolling back into your skull, throat raw from screaming, and it takes you a while to get used to them, but by the third round, you’re vaguely able to differentiate the two by the specific way they fuck you.

Wakasa goes deeper, thrusts a little more focused on making you feel the stretch— letting you feel him reach into your stomach. Rindou goes harder, his cock is slamming against the spot that has you screaming, and he aims to pummel that same spot as soon as he finds it.

You lose count of how many times they’ve switched. They’re still pounding into you so roughly that you’ve been pushed up onto your toes, then completely off your toes, but your thighs are too tired— too weak to hold up your weight, so they resort to simply holding you up for them. Their hands are tight around your hips, keeping you nice and still for them to each have a turn at dumping their next load inside you.

#tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev smut #tokrev x reader #tr smut #tr x reader #wakasa x reader #wakasa smut #rindou x reader #rindou smut #rindou haitani smut #rindou haitani x reader #wakasa imaushi #wakasa imaushi x reader #eviewrites #🦢— mail !

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honeyhaeya · 5 months ago

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sorry kisses (mwuah)

hwang hyunjin x gn!reader

genre: romantic comedy, domestic fluff, light angst warnings: minor argument/conflict between characters, slight miscommunication, excessive amounts of kissing (if that counts), playful teasing, mentions of surprise, planning and gift-giving tags: hyunjin x reader, romantic comedy, domestic fluff, soft boyfriend hyunjin, miscommunication trope, apology scene, reader insert, light angst with fluff, relationship drama wc: 931 a/n: random drabbles cause its cannon that hyunjin hates it when he's being called by his full name lol (lazy drabbles cause im a little tipsy)

the slam of the kitchen cabinet echoed through the apartment as you stood by the counter, arms crossed tightly against your chest. hyunjin paced in the living room, running his hand through his hair for the third time in the past five minutes. the tension between you both was sharp enough to slice through the air.

“i told you i didn’t mean to forget, okay?” his voice was low, tinged with frustration, but his eyes softened, betraying the guilt he was trying to hide. “it’s not like i did it on purpose.”

“not on purpose? seriously, hwang hyunjin?” the moment his full name left your lips, his head snapped up, his expression a mix of surprise and irritation.

“oh, come on! don’t call me that,” he snapped, stepping closer. “you only use my full name when you’re mad, and it’s weird. you’re my girlfriend, not my mom.”

“well, maybe if you acted like a responsible boyfriend, i wouldn’t have to sound like your mom,” you shot back, your tone biting.

he let out a dramatic groan, throwing his head back. “this is so unfair. you’re making it sound like i don’t care about you when i literally spent all day yesterday planning that stupid surprise.”

“wait, what?” your arms dropped as confusion replaced your anger.

his cheeks flushed pink as he avoided your gaze, scratching the back of his neck. “y-yeah. that’s why i forgot to pick up the thing you asked for. i was trying to… you know… make you happy. but clearly, i suck at it.”

your heart softened at his confession, though a small part of you remained stubborn. “you could’ve just told me that instead of letting me think you didn’t care.”

“i was going to! but then you called me ‘hwang hyunjin’ and it all went downhill from there.” his pout was almost comical, but you bit back a smile.

“you really hate it that much, huh?”

“of course i do,” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “you’re supposed to call me something cute, not make me feel like i’m in trouble.”

despite yourself, a small laugh escaped. “okay, fine. i’ll stick to cute nicknames. but only if you promise to communicate better next time.”

his lips twitched into a sheepish smile as he took a tentative step closer, his hand brushing against yours. “deal. just… no more full name. it’s terrifying.”

you let him intertwine your fingers, the warmth of his touch easing the last remnants of your frustration. “fine. but if you mess up again, all bets are off.”

he leaned in, his forehead gently bumping against yours as his voice dropped to a whisper. “guess i’ll just have to make sure i never mess up again.”

you barely had time to react before his lips found yours. the kiss was soft at first, an unspoken apology that made your knees weaken. his hand came up to cradle your face, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, leaving no room for doubts or lingering anger.

“so… am i forgiven?” he murmured against your lips, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“maybe,” you whispered back, capturing his lips in another kiss before he could protest. his hands moved to your waist, holding you as if afraid you’d pull away.

“you know,” he said between kisses, “if this is what happens every time i mess up, maybe i should do it more often.”

you pulled back, playfully swatting his chest. “don’t push your luck, jinnie.”

his grin widened at the nickname, and he quickly pulled you back in, pressing his lips to yours again, this time with more urgency. “i really am sorry,” he murmured, his kisses trailing to your jaw and down to your neck. “just wanted to do something special for you.”

“you’re lucky you’re cute,” you mumbled, your hands tangling in his hair as he continued peppering your skin with kisses.

“lucky? no, i’m just smart. distracting you with kisses is a foolproof plan,” he teased, his lips finding yours once more.

the next evening, you returned home to find the apartment dark except for the soft glow of fairy lights strung across the living room. a faint, familiar melody drifted through the air, and as you stepped further inside, hyunjin appeared from behind the couch, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“what’s all this?” you asked, though your voice had already softened.

he smiled shyly, holding the bouquet out to you. “my apology. properly this time.”

you took the flowers, your heart swelling at the sight of him—all awkward yet so endearing. “you really went all out, huh?”

“of course,” he said, stepping closer until he could brush a strand of hair from your face. “i wanted to remind you how much i love you.”

your cheeks warmed, and you leaned in, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was sweet yet demanding, a silent reminder of everything you both felt but couldn’t always put into words. he responded instantly, his arms wrapping around you as the flowers fell to the side, forgotten in favor of the moment.

“so,” he said when you finally pulled apart, his voice breathless. “does this mean i’m forgiven?”

“we’ll see,” you teased, tugging him down for another kiss. this one was slower, deeper, as if to say everything words couldn’t.

by the time you finally settled onto the couch, tangled together under a blanket with snacks and a stack of movies waiting, you couldn’t help but smile against his lips. “for the record,” you murmured, “you’re not allowed to mess up just to get out of trouble like this.”

he laughed softly, kissing you again. “duly noted.”

and as the night unfolded, filled with kisses and quiet laughter, you couldn’t imagine ever staying mad at him for long.

a/n: tenchu for readinggg ! first stray kids fanfic <3

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ryescapades-archived · 4 months ago

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→ EVENT OVERVIEW

prompt: 10 - “lift your hips for me, love.” characters: michael kaiser (bllk) x f!reader contents: nsfw mdni !! oral (f!receiving), orgasm denial, unprotected p in v, marking, some choking, slightest hint of possessiveness + degradation if u squint, petnames (princess, baby, love, pretty girl), reader wears a dress, implied established rs wc ~ 800

a/n: @strawchocoberry candyyy bbg tysm for participating !! this one is barely proofread btw but i hope u will still enjoy it <3 and here's your slice two order !

there was a tense silence blanketing the room.

you were taking your sweet time removing all the jewelry you had been wearing on your body, nerves fluttering on your fingertips as you placed them down gently on the vanity when a pair of hands came to rest on your hips. your own hands paused midway, a sigh wisping out when a warm body pressed itself against your back. “still wanna continue where we left off, princess?” kaiser asked, cerulean eyes connecting with yours in the mirror.

flashes of heated breaths and impatient touches appeared in your mind, each and every action ladened with a hungry intent leading to the urgency in how the two of you had left the sponsorship event.

you hadn’t meant for it to happen, but with all those lingering touches, sultry gazes and teasing smirks thrown across the hall, it was only a matter of time before one of you snapped. and much to kaiser’s delight, you did.

if only he didn’t look as good as he did in that godforsaken red and blue suit.

his eyes greedily roamed over your body in the reflection, hands now snaking their way around your waist as the crown tattoo laid front and clear over your stomach like a blaring possession on the red of your dress.

“i wouldn’t have rushed back with you if i didn’t want to continue, michael.” you replied, leaning your head back against his shoulder when he started peppering your neck with open-mouthed kisses. seemingly satisfied with your answer, kaiser huffed out a raspy laugh against your skin before his silken voice graced your ears again, “keep the necklace on.”

you never planned on ever taking it off anyway.

and that was how you find yourself laid bare on your shared bed except for your panties which had been pushed to the side, legs thrown over his shoulders as kaiser continues to lap at your soaked pussy while he has two fingers knuckle deep in your hole. “micha–” your plea is cut short by another mewl out of your mouth when he takes your swollen clit between his lips, sucking on the bundle of nerves as he relishes in the way more of your arousal seeps out between his fingers.

“‘m so close, fuck.” kaiser doesn’t let up his ministrations, opting to flick his tongue faster against your folds. the heat in your stomach threatens to burst, coiling tighter and burning brighter as he increases the pace of his fingers. “yeah? gonna come, pretty girl?” he mumbles against your pussy, the vibration rewarding him with a broken whine from you.

it’s only when kaiser senses you on the precipice of your orgasm, pussy fluttering and thighs trembling beside his head that he abruptly pulls away, the climax you’d been so close to riding on sags down like a wilted flower. “n-no - why–” your protesting cries go into one ear and out the other. “i know, baby, i know.” he reassuringly hushes, and yet a tantalizing smirk grows on his face as he drinks in your distraught expression, the tears of frustration making your eyes glisten in the dimly lit room.

as much as he enjoys seeing your blissed face, michael kaiser loves the fucked out, depraved expression you’d make every time your pleasure gets denied even more.

he brings his tattooed hand to your neck, lightly squeezing the sides of your jaw as he leans in to connect your lips with his, rough and unbridled in the way he straight away invades your mouth to swap spit with you. clutching at his shirt, you groan against him as you taste your own ache and desperation on his tongue.

slipping down to the remaining piece of fabric on your body, he tugs on the hem of your panties to discard them away. “lift your hips for me, love,” he whispers, planting a soft peck on your obediently raised waist before unbuckling his own pants and pulling himself out.

your eyes automatically shift to the way kaiser gathers the precum leaking out of his own tip, smearing it on his throbbing cock to get it wet. all the while the crown tattoo slides up to your nape, pulling the necklace taut against the base of your throat. he then brings that same hand to your neck, fingers gingerly wrapping around it as his palm presses the dainty rose pendant against your skin.

kaiser’s motive is loud and clear; he wanted the necklace to leave an indent on your neck.

cock twitching and nudging against your drooling cunt, he finally pushes in, torturously slow as your velvety walls wrap around his girth with ease. “that’s it, baby...” his moan and yours find an echo in the heated room, “you were close, no? now be a good girl and come on my cock.”

kaiser in a suit inspo ^w^ lots of hand action going awn there lmao sry candy ily but i feel like i’m edging u with this one hwgdjhsdf

#is the kaiser nation still raging .. im hoping it is #michael kaiser x reader #michael kaiser smut #michael kaiser x you #michael kaiser x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #blue lock smut #blue lock x reader smut #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk smut #1kakes event 🎂#🥣 rye works

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kyunzin · 1 year ago

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𝐇𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮

character; 𝐒. 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞

cw; where there’s a problem there’s always a solution, yours is just getting dicked down by connie (f!reader)

tags; black reader, nsfw, dirty talk, back shots, multiple rounds, overstimulation, slightly messy sex, begging, aftercare (f!reader)

a/n; this was more for me than it was for you ;p

he has you bent over the sofa chair, sundress hiked up over your hips, panties pushed to the side as he fucks you into the couch with purpose. both his hand keeping you still as he pulls out to the tip and thrusts back all the way back in, the sound of of his hips snapping into yours filling the room.

“is this what you wanted baby, to be fucked like a slut”.

he had noticed straight away that something was off when you stepped through the door, the way you acted was off from how you usually would and he can tell the signs from when you’re in a mood.

the first sign was the way how instead of greeting him with a kiss you tried to walk straight past him, second was when you rolled your eyes at him when he asked if something was wrong as well as the snappy tone you used when telling him it was nothing. he bent you over the sofa with no hesitation.

he’s had you cum three times already now both of you bring overstimulated and worn out but he has no plans on stopping until he finds out what wrong. its not often that he has to question you like this but when he does its a long process, the both of you two stubborn to give in.

he doesn’t care how many times you cum either way he still gets to watch as your ass slaps back against his pelvis and the way your soaked pussy clenches around him every time he pulls back trying to suck him back in. theres a thick ring of your mixed arousal around his cock and he’s sure that your juices have dripped down from his cock down onto the sofa below you but he’ll worry about cleaning that up later.

“all you had to do was tell me what was wrong and we could have worked it out together but you decided to difficult and you know I don’t tolerate that shit ma, so you wanna tell me what’s up. hmm?”.

he doesn’t stop fucking you as he speaks but you can hear the little shakes in his voice when his hips connect with yours and the little profanities that slip out. you can tell that it’s affecting him as well as he’s cum just as many times as you but you know that he can last longer than you so you try fein confidence.

he chuckles when you shake your head no keeping to your stubbornness but he knows you won’t be able to last for long, you never do. all you need is a bit of tough love before you break down and give in to him.

“have it your way princess, we both know you’ll give in soon”

he feels no sympathy for you as he slaps his palm over your ass that’s he’s sure stings from the way you hiss out in pain, he repeats the motion until he satisfied hearing your cries, not caring whether they’re from pain or pleasure.

“anything you wanna -shit, say ma, all you gotta do is say two words and this can end”

he throws his head back in excitement when you turn around to face him letting out a weak and choked ‘fuck you’. he knows you’re not far from giving in so he lets you have the last of your struggle fucking you without mercy, the sofa rocking back and forth from the force of his thrusts.

“c’mon baby you know what you gotta do, dont’cha wanna be a good girl for me?”

a small sob leaves your mouth and he knows he’s won especially when he hears you mumbling and he slows his pace so it’s easier for you to speak. he doesn’t push you to speak louder but eventually your mumbles become louder and he’s able to make out your little repeated chants of “m’sorry” and “please”.

“what was that baby, you’re sorry?”

you can’t tell he’s mocking you and that he’s smiling as he says it but you nod anyway repeating your apology hoping he accepts it. now that he’s satisfied with your apology he pulls you up against him and turns your head around so that he can kiss you, you’re tongues messily swirling around each other.

“its okay princess I forgive you, how ‘bout you cum one more time to show me just how sorry you are”

you know it’s a command and not a question but theres no need for him to even ask because your impending orgasm washes over you with full force. it has your legs trembling, pussy twitching uncontrollably around him, loud moans escaping your glossed lips. which sends him over the edge as he spills his hot load into condom that you don’t even remember him putting on, with a low groan of your name.

“all that attitude for what ma?”

when you don’t respond he lifts up your limp body to find that your eyes are closed and your breathing steadily. he slowly pulls out of you and places you on the clean sofa walking away briefly before coming back with a warm cloth to wipe you down. striping you down to your underwear he brings you to your room and tucks you under the covers placing a kiss to your forehead. leaving to go clean the sofa.

delighted that he managed to fuck you unconscious he walks around the house with a smile on his face for the rest of the day. when you do eventually wake up a couple minutes later you tell him the reason for you behaviour was only because of a dare you were given and he just shakes his head already used to your antics.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

@connies4lifer

#✰𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒✰#connie springer x black reader smut #connie springer x black reader #connie springer x black!reader #connie smut #aot connie #connie springer #connie x black reader #aot x reader #aot smut #aot x black reader

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autisticshadowthehedgehog · 9 months ago

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OK Guys. I get the skepticism esp after the Knuckles disaster, but we also need to keep in mind "this is a trailer that won't spoil literally everything about the movie." ESPECIALLY in regards to GUN. They're not gonna put in the trailer "the military shot a little girl and that's why Shadow is mad so Sonic is going to never work with them ever." That's a great way to get parents to bring their kids to the theater, especially in America. (/s)

It's WAY more effective as a plot twist halfway through, where Sonic thinks that he's finally being accepted onto Earth via working with the government only to find out that they're exploiting him and Shadow the same. I can't guarantee this is gonna happen obviously but it's like a 90% chance just knowing how, like. writing works.

Esp considering the government has not had a good track record in the last two movies, I dunno if they'd do a heel-face turn into "actually they were always right" in the movie where a little girl needs to get shot by the government.

And I'm not gonna say "trust and form a parasocial relationship with a film director" but we should keep in mind that Jeff Fowler got his start working on Shadow's title game and has stated in interviews that he understands how important Shadow's backstory is to his character. Not to mention how the internet has been exploding the last two years with enthusiasm over this story actually getting shown onscreen, enough that a studio would fucking notice at the very least that this is what the people want. I can't guarantee they'll actually listen, but saying that they're absolutely not because "Sonic was in a GUN helicopter in the trailer" is insane. Especially with the fact that GUN is not with Sonic when he goes to Eggman. We just see Team Sonic alone meeting with Stone, and I will bet you it's because there's no way in hell GUN would let them near him, what with the Robotnik connections to the ARK.

Also the Gerald thing is rather worrying, esp with the lack of shit they gave Pachacamac in the miniseries, but honestly I think that was just a marketing push of "Jim Carrey will be playing TWO characters!!!" Considering he's only seen in one trailer scene AT the ARK (where all of Gerald's technology was and, more importantly, where the Eclipse cannon he needs someone to set off is) AND we know from movie 2's credits scene that there was a fifty-year timeskip, I severely doubt that's the real Gerald who's just completely unaffected by his granddaughter being murdered.

And ofc there's things to be concerned about in the trailer. The lack of Rouge for instance– I obviously keep posting my theory that Krysten Ritter's character will be her undercover but the fact we don't know how much time she'd actually have with Shadow, if at ALL, is worrying. The fact that Rouge might not be here period. The weird pacing of the Knuckles show and the fear that could bleed over into the movie. But there's also stuff to get excited about– the epic fight scene choreography, the brief glimpse we got of Maria and Shadow's bond. Reeves's voice actually fits Shadow and at least from what the trailer showed us it looks like the Green Hills storyline is taking a backseat to the action and mystery of Project Shadow.

tl;dr guys calm down for like five minutes. if the movie sucks in december we can riot then. right now let's just band together against mufasa

#sonic movie 3 #sonic the hedgehog 3 #sonic 3 #sonic cinematic universe #sonic the hedgehog #scu #sth #shadow the hedgehog #mine

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rowdyluv · 20 days ago

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Talk to Me - jh86

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: jack is stressing over how y/n is bottling something up that happened at the event they attended together. but he just wants her to open up to him like she always has

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2k

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: mild language, angst, fake dating, anxious themes, oblivious characters,

"Quinn, man, she's just not herself," Jack said, his forehead creased with worry as he talked to his brother’s face through the phone. The bright screen cast a bluish glow on his face, making the shadows under his eyes more pronounced. “Well. She’s herself by being closed off and not telling people what’s wrong. But.”

“But…. she’s not telling you what’s wrong and that isn’t like her.” Quinn cut his younger, middle brother off.

Jack hummed in response. Relieved that Quinn at least understood that part of the situation. Quinn has known her just as long as him, so he figured calling big brother was an appropriate option for some advice.

Quinn's voice grew softer. "Jack, have you ever thought that maybe Y/n's still dealing with what went down at the charity gala? You know she isn’t actually superwoman contrary to your all’s longest running matching halloween costumes.”

Jack was quiet for a moment. Contemplating how to answer his brother’s absurd question. “Of course I have, Q. That is all I have thought about for four days now.” Jack drug one of his hands down his face and groaned in frustration. “Since when do her and I not talk to each other?”

Quinn sighs heavily on the other side of the screen, his voice thick with annoyance towards his brother’s oblivion. "Jack, you know, you can be pretty clueless sometimes.”

“What the fuck Quinn? How did this suddenly become the time to insult me?”

Quinn rolled his eyes and propped his phone up on his coffee table. He sat up, placing his elbows on his knees, looking right at Jack through the phone’s camera. "Jack, she is your best friend. You claim to know everything about her. Or that you know her best. If that is true, we wouldn’t be on the phone arguing about why she’s avoiding what happened."

Jack frowned and whispered, feeling attacked. "I do know her best.”

“And I know you both pretty damn well.” Quinn laughed. “So. I'm going to bet that she isn't avoiding the topic of the WAGs.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard you say this month.”

“Do you want to hear what I have to say or not, dumbass?”

Jack didn't respond to him, hoping he would take the silence as an invitation.

“Alright then. If what you told me about the ‘special moment’ you two shared is true. She could be avoiding you because of that. Think about that one.

Jack’s eyes snapped to the phone, his heart racing. He felt like the air was being sucked out of the room. “What do you mean? We have shared many hugs before. Many close moments. So what I felt like I was in heaven at that moment? She didn’t but I had it for a minute. She doesn’t care?.”

“Would you listen to yourself? Many close moments, many hugs, felt like you were in heaven? What about her? What did she feel? Had you discussed being that open about your arrangement in public yet? Or did you blindside her to have your fill?”

“Quinn.. I—. I have to go. Thank you, I love you.”

“Love you too, Jacky. Good luck.”

‘Rowdy dude. I believe you fucked up.’

————————

Jack stared at the phone screen for a moment longer before hanging up. He had been pacing the length of his bedroom, his thoughts a tumultuous mess. Quinn’s words echoed in his mind, making him feel like he had missed something crucial. He took a deep breath and headed to the couch where Y/n was curled up, fast asleep. Her chest gently rose and fell with each breath, and the soft light from the nearby lamp danced across her features. Jack was not going to wake her to let her know he was running out. He grabbed a pen and paper to leave her a note.

He scribbled down a quick message, feeling his stomach knot at the thought of her finding it. "Gone to grab a few things. Be back soon. Love ya, J." He placed the note on the coffee table and grabbed his keys. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the apartment eerily quiet.

Jack drove to the local floral shop, his mind racing with thoughts of what to say to her. The cool evening air brushed against his skin as he exited the car and walked through the quiet streets. The bell on the door jingled merrily as he stepped into the warm, fragrant oasis of color. The woman behind the counter looked up from her book, a gentle smile spreading across her face. "Can I help you find something?"

"I'm looking for some flowers," he began, his voice a bit shakier than he'd like. "I need lilies, daffodils, and some cosmos."

The woman nodded understandingly, her eyes twinkling. "Ah, sounds like you're trying to brighten someone's day," she said knowingly. "Lilies for purity, daffodils for new beginnings, and cosmos for a bit of whimsy. A lovely combination."

Jack couldn't help but chuckle nervously. "I hope so. They're for my best friend, Y/n. She's had a tough week."

The woman's smile grew as she began to gather the flowers. "Best friends are the best kind of people to have. Tell her they're for making bad days a bit brighter."

Jack nodded, his mind racing. "Could you make them into a bouquet, please?"

"Of course, dear," the woman replied warmly. "Let me wrap these up for you. They're going to make a beautiful bouquet."

Jack felt a twinge of hope as he watched her arrange the flowers. He knew that Y/n would appreciate the gesture, its who she is, and maybe, it would be the catalyst for the conversation they needed to have. He paid for the bouquet and stepped back out into the evening light, ready to get dinner and head back home.

The pizza place was a short drive away, a place they've been going to each week since she movec. It had the perfect blend of cheese and sauce that made their taste buds dance. As he walked in, the familiar smell of fresh dough and baked bread greeted him. The bell jingled over the door and the cashier looked up, recognizing him immediately. "Jack! The usual?" she asked with a knowing smile.

"Yes, please," he replied. She wasn’t necessarily picky with her food, but when it came to this pizza, she was a creature of habit. Pepperoni, ONLY just how she liked it. He watched as the pizzamaker expertly tossed the dough and spread the sauce, feeling a sense of comfort in the familiar routine.

As the pizza baked, Jack couldn’t help but recall the way Y/n's eyes lit up when she took that first bite, how she'd always save a piece for him to share. It was these little moments that made their friendship so special.

‘Friendship?’ His inner thoughts screamed and echoed and ping-ponged around his skull so loudly Jack didnt notice the cashier was trying to get attention to pay.

Jack nodded absentmindedly, pulling out his wallet. "Oh, right." He mumbling his apology and handed over the money. "Keep the change," he said, a little too eagerly, and practically bolted out the door.

The ride home was a blur. He barely noticed the scenery passing by, his thoughts consumed by Quinn's words and the weight of his own feelings. When he pulled up to the apartment complex, his heart felt heavier than the bouquet of flowers in his hand. The elevator ride to their floor was painfully slow, each ding of the passing floors a seeming to get louder and louder.

Jack's palms were slick with nerves as he unlocked the door and stepped into their shared space. The TV was playing softly in the background and the couch was now abandoned. He sat the pizza box on the coffee table.

He called out her name tentatively. The silence that followed was deafening.

With no response he peaked around the corner and down the hallway. There was a bit of light spilling out from under the crack of the door. He took a deep breath and went to knock gently, the bouquet in one hand, his heart in the other.

"Y/n? Can I come in?"

The door to her bedroom cracked open slightly, and a confused gaze met his from the other side. She had been crying again, Jack could see the redness around her eyes and the way her cheeks were still wet with tears.

His heart feels like it just had a skate ran over it.

Jack held out the bouquet, his heart hammering in his chest like a drum. "I brought these for you," he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady. "To make the bad days seem a bit brighter."

Y/n stared at the flowers, her eyes widening with surprise. She had never seen him so nervous before, not even when he was about to go on the ice for a big game. She took the bouquet from his hand, her fingers brushing against his in a way that sent a jolt through both their systems. The sweet scent of the lilies filled the space between them, mingling with the faint scent of her perfume. "Jack, they're beautiful," she murmured, her voice thick with unshed tears.

“I have something else, c’mon.”

Jack's voice was gentle, a stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions crashing through his mind. He stepped aside, allowing Y/n to enter the hallway to head towards the living room where the pizza waited. She followed him with a tentative step, the bouquet clutched to her chest like a lifeline.

When they reached the couch, Jack turned to face her, his eyes searching hers for any hint of what she might be feeling. "Look, Y/n, I know something's been bothering you, but I don’t want to push. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. But I want you to know that I'm here for you." He took a deep breath and held out his hand to her. "Will you come with me?"

“Our pizza and my favorite flowers? Did you cause a scandal in this fake relationship.” She feigned faked shock, knowing well he didnt. At least she hoped that he hadn’t.

Jack couldn't help but smile at her attempt to lighten the mood, but he knew this was another attempt to deflect attention. He nodded his head no "I just wanted to do something nice for you."

Y/n's eyes searched his, looking for a deeper meaning behind the flowers and pizza. She sighed, her shoulders dropping slightly. "Jack, I know you're worried, but I just don't know if I can talk about it yet."

Jack dropped his head. “I truly wanted to do something nice. But i will admit i had a few motives.”

“I’m afraid that telling you will change things for worse.

Jack looked at her, his eyes filled with concern. "Y/n, I promise you, I’m not going anywhere. You can tell me anything."

Y/n looked down at the bouquet in her hands, the petals brushing against her skin as if whispering secrets she was too afraid to speak aloud. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Jack, I know you're trying to help, but it's just..." She paused, her voice cracking slightly.

Jack stepped closer, his hand reaching out to comfort her. "It's okay, Y/n. Take your time."

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She took a deep breath and spoke in a hushed tone. "I've been trying to ignore it, but I can't. Have you ever wanted something so terribly bad, but you’re no good for it/them. Or do they see you differently?"

Jack's heart clenched at the pain in her voice. He went to grab her hand and she pulled away. His heart plummeted “Y/n.”

“Jack. Let me say it this way. Have you ever wanted someone so badly it physically hurt?” Y/n held Jack’s gaze silently pleading he did understand.

Jack cleared his throat before he tried to speak again. “And if I said yes, would you even believe in me?”

#cay chats✿#cay writes #♡⤷ believe in me #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x fem!reader #Jack Hughes fic #nj devils fic #jack hughes fanfiction #jhughes #jh86 x reader #jh86 imagine #jh86 #jack hughes angst #hockey fics #hockey fanfiction

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tinytownn · 1 month ago

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back to you – one-shot

roronoa zoro x f!reader

word count: 1.7k

summary: after being ambushed on the way back to the ship, the crew is faced with a difficult battle. you get injured and zoro comes to your rescue–thinking you're unconscious he lets his inner thoughts slip.

content: violence, fluff??, corny ass ending, worried zoroooo, no use of y/n, also for this post and any op fics going forward the character will have giant scissors as a weapon and is the ship’s seamstress (picture sheele’s extase from akame ga kill)

a/n: [UNEDITED] erm don't look at this too hard, i don't wanna talk abt it...i originally wrote another 3k word ending but scrapped it (possibly for another project??) so this is what you guys get lmaoo. more fast paced than i usually like, but i thought it'd be a cute lil fluffy piece.

—

The air was thick with smoke. Cannons from rival ships deployed, leaving scars in the earth as the ammo plundered deep within. Unconscious bodies that littered the beach became human shields as you attempted to dodge the bullets that whizzed past your head–the sound sending chills up your spine.

You and your crew had been ambushed. The supply trip was supposed to be simple—routine, even. When you arrived, Nami had spotted a secluded docking spot tucked between jagged rocks. It looked safe.

How wrong that assumption was.

Splitting up into groups, Sanji and Chopper went to get food, Nami and Robin ventured to various shops, and Luffy and Usopp found their way through restaurants, eating their way through the menu of any place that would let them in.

You were paired with Zoro to gather medical supplies—a list quickly scribbled by Chopper before you docked.

“Take Zoro with you,” Chopper had said. “To carry the heavy stuff!”

He meant well, but Zoro made no effort to hide his boredom, dragging his feet with every step.

"This sucks," he muttered, arms crossed as he sulked behind you.

“All you’d be doing is sleeping in the crow’s nest. Plus, I’m not carrying all of this,” you reminded him, holding the list up like a scroll. “Suck it up.”

It took a while of wandering, but a large, wooden sign with a red cross messily painted on it came into view–a medicine shop.

“Aha— there it is,” you said, pointing.

Zoro’s gaze, however, was focused elsewhere.

“Sword shop,” he murmured, eyes lighting up for the first time since you left the ship.

He looked at you, hopeful. “Just one—”

“Fine,” you said before he could even finish. “Go. Meet me next door when you’re done. And don’t get lost.”

“It’s right there.” He grumbled, rolling his eyes. “I’ll meet you there.”

Watching him turn, his steps guided him to the sword display in the window and he disappeared inside. Knowing he made it inside, you went next door to start gathering things off the list.

Although there wasn’t much on the list–the bottles were fucking massive. They piled in your arms and began to topple. You regretted sending Zoro off, but you managed to make your way to the counter, paying for the items and hauling the bulky bag behind on your way out.

You glanced toward the sword shop. No Zoro.

Frowning, you stomped over and pushed the door open. A bell jingled overhead.

You scanned the small store, the only person inside was a lanky, half-asleep, old man at the counter. Hearing your footsteps, his eyes perked up, head turned to you.

“Ah, hello, dear!” His scratchy voice echoed through the empty shop. “How can I help you?”

You nodded, keeping your place in the doorway. “Have you seen a man–tall, green hair, probably frowning, pissed off at the world?”

Not even taking a moment to think, the old man scowled. “Yes, I remember him. He was just in here a few minutes ago– rude young man. He left while I was telling one of my stories! You oughta get yourself a better boyfriend. One that knows his manners.”

Your face flushed. “Oh, we’re not-”

“I don’t understand what’s wrong with you kids nowadays, not appreciating a little history.” The man shook his head before his gaze snapped to you. “But you seem like a smart, young girl! Let me tell you about the time…”

You quietly back out of the doorway, softly chuckling to yourself as you imagined Zoro’s reaction to the old man talking his head off. As you lugged the bag behind you, facing the two storefronts you were confronted with a new issue.

Zoro had gotten lost. Again.

You found the rest of your crewmates before you found him. The search had stretched on for an hour before Luffy popped around a corner grinning wildly.

“Yaaa! I found him!” he announced triumphantly. “He was standing next to another sword shop—like they were calling to him!”

You glared at the swordsman, who rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks tinged red.

Luffy began to dramatically reenact the encounter, but as you neared the ship, Luffy’s banter was interrupted by the rowdy yelling of pirates, hundreds of them.

Four ships surrounded yours, anchored at the small beach. A makeshift bridge stretched from one of them, and men were already swarming across, hauling anything they could carry.

A shriek escaped Nami’s lips, she was seething. “My treasure!”

She was the first to charge forward, Luffy quickly following behind her in defense of his precious ship.

The first cannonball ripped through the air, slamming into the sand beside your group. Luffy wasted no time stretching himself to deflect the ammo back towards their ship, propelling it towards the ship and shredding the sails.

Men at the masses came flooding from the ship, all wielding swords. Groups of men high up on the surrounding ship were armed with guns and an army of bullets came raining down on the beach.

The lack of preparation, the horde of bullets, the neverending cannonballs, all weighed heavy on the crew–but it wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle. No one had much time to think, to plan, so they went their own directions, deflecting what they could.

Sanji hurled kicks at the groups on land, skillfully contorting his body to dodge bullets as the contact sent pirates flying. Nami went head to head with a large group of swordsmen, her tactful movement was no match as she swiftly found a weak point. Robin used her devil fruit ability, not only to confuse the group, but attack with another one of her hands as they stared, dumbfounded, at the one that dangled, unattached in the air. Usopp took a further position, in a tree, as he shot precisely aimed projectiles. Chopper also used his devil fruit and took out masses of men with ease and pure strength. The field of swords were practically calling Zoro’s name as he dove in, three weapons at the ready as he sliced into the crowd, taking them out.

You had thrown your weapon—your shears—into the supply bag during your search for Zoro. Now, in the chaos, you scrambled back to retrieve it.

Your fingers wrapped around the handle just as a sharp pain lanced through your arm. A bullet had grazed you. You dropped the shears in the sand, blood already soaking your sleeve.

The bullet only grazed your skin–you were lucky. But that didn’t stop the warfare that went on around you. A cannonball struck the earth a few feet away from you, sending you to your knees as you toppled over, unbalanced.

You grasped the handle of your shears again, determined to join the fight–when another bullet came in contact with your skin. Straight through your shoulder.

Your weapon, taking two hands to use, became impossible to wield as you cried out on the ground. Hopelessness shot through your body. The pirates were approaching, laughing, taunting.

The rest of your crew had pushed forward, unaware of your shrill cries as you bled onto the beach. The screams of the enemies drowned out your agonizing groans as you were stuck with blow after blow.

With the remainder of your strength, you grasped your shears, slashing wildly. You fought. You screamed. But it wasn’t enough as the attackers kept swarming.

Steel nipped at your skin. Warm, sticky blood trickled down your flesh.

As more pirates neared the back of the beach, the men huddled over your body, maliciously slashing your skin.

The pain was endless.

And then you heard him.

Zoro grunted as he propelled his body forward for a sweeping attack, the blow hitting hard to the group of enemies. He blew through each opponent that came his way, relentless in his pursuit to find you.

He slashed through the crowd, blood splashing onto his skin, his clothes–but he didn’t care. He kept hacking away, arms tirelessly working his way deeper into the horde until he saw you.

Any remaining pirates feld from the beach upon seeing the carnage, leaving your bloodied body in perfect view for his guilt-panged heart. Deep cuts and slashes littered your body, blood covered any part of your of body the flesh wasn’t torn. A hole in your shoulder pulsed and spurted blood out onto the ground, another gash on your arm seeping blood as well.

He dropped to his knees.

“Hey! Stay with me!” His voice cracked as he gathered you in his arms, cradling your head against his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, again and again. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

He kept whispering reassurances, unsure if you were even conscious—speaking more to himself than to you.

Zoro didn’t stop. He called for Chopper but didn’t wait. He sprinted to the ship, carrying you onto thr deck like you weighed nothing.

He brought you lower into the ship, his heavy steps rang throughout the hall as he clamored down the steps. He kicked open the infirmary door, laid you on the bed, and immediately went for the supplies. His hands trembled as he soaked a cloth in alcohol and gently dabbed at the wounds.

You whimpered.

He froze, breath catching. “I know,” he whispered. “I know it hurts. Just hang on.”

He worked quickly, compressing the worst of the wounds, doing what he could until Chopper returned. And while he did, he talked to you—softly, desperately.

“I’ll be better,” he said, voice breaking. “Stronger. So I can protect you.”

You couldn't respond, but your fingers twitched, now intertwined with his.

Zoro didn’t notice. He just held your hand tighter, leaning over you, eyes flicking over your wounds.

“You mean more to me than you’ll ever know.”

There was a silence–his words hanging in the air like a sweet melody.

“Zoro…” you rasped, voice barely audible.

His head snapped up to meet your lidded gaze. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

You gave him the faintest smile.

“Told you…you’d get lost.”

He choked a laugh through his tears.

“Yeah,” he whispered, kissing the back of your hand. “But I always find my way back to you.”

—

a special thanks to my taglist ♡ (message me to be added or removed)

#one piece x reader #one piece #zoro x you #roronoa zoro one piece #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #zoro x reader #op #zoro one piece #zoro

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