#He acted so recklessly wanting to help | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rainba · 29 days

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Yandere OC (Kairos) x Reader 💜

A/N / TWs: 18+, yandere content, Kairos being Kairos,, masturbation + pillow fucking + small mention of somnophilia and kidnapping

( ◡‿◡ *) MDNI 💜

Reader is GN!!

Wordcount: 1106 💜

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Drool was dribbling down his chin, an absolute mess forming all over the bedsheets. His hips were twitching, bucking, grinding fervently against the silky black fabric of his pillow. His small hands gripped the edges as he held it as close as humanly possible.

Kairos was utterly desperate.

“A-ah– Hah– Please– Please…”

He thrusts as fast as he possibly can, moaning your name ever-so-sweetly. He’s so unashamedly loud– he just can’t stop thinking about you: his perfect, amazing, sweet, soon-to-be-his darling. Kairos grits his teeth as he pushes his leaking cock even harder against the pillow, his entire body trembling as he whimpers.

“I-I love you, I love you, IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!”

Images of your face flash across his mind as he recklessly chases his high. The bed squeaks beneath him. God– he wishes it was you in his arms rather than just a dumb, stupid pillow. If you were with him at that moment instead, he’d undoubtedly believe that he’d died and gone to heaven.

Ah… If you were with him… He’d cum inside you over and over again– claim you– leave kisses and marks all over your body– whisper praises into your ear as he lovingly fucks you. His hands would be trembling with excitement as they explore every inch of you.

Kairos shudders as he imagines you squeezing yourself around his length. He whimpers as he also imagines you praising him back, telling him that he’s making you feel so good, begging him to keep going until he physically collapses.

Ah– if he fucks you good enough, you’ll never want to leave him! Right?? He’ll fuck you so good that you can barely walk, and that way, you’ll never be able to escape him… Kairos bites down on his bottom lip as his cock throbs at the thought.

“I… I’ll be your good boy… I’ll… I’ll treat you good..!”

“Y-you only need me, only me…”

He shifts positions on the bed and tries to put the pillow on top of himself, pretending that you’re riding him. He pushes it firmly against his length and tries to grind into it, but it’s hardly enough to satisfy him. Having the pillow on top doesn’t feel nearly as good– the only way for this position to work would be to have you actually on top of him. He needs to be inside of you– needs to be inside of you so, so badly–

The stupid pillow just isn’t enough.

He can’t help but tear up and whine at the fact that you’re not really with him right now.

Overwhelmed with frustration, he flips over the pillow and slams it against the bed, taking his rage out on it. He squeezes it as if to choke it; erratically shaking the poor thing as salty tears fall down his cheeks.

He holds down the pillow with one hand as he carelessly strokes his cock with the other.

Then he imagines he’s fucking your face instead... Pretending he’s punishing you for not begging to be by his side. Punishing you for not spending every waking moment either being with him or thinking about him.

Oh– But… Would having your throat be ravaged by him really be a punishment?

Kairos imagines your eyes watering and cheeks puffing out as he abuses your mouth, bruising it, but he also pretends that you’d secretly love it. In his fantasy, you’d be touching yourself as he keeps thrusting, and he’d be petting your hair all the while. Or perhaps your hands would be gripping his thighs, holding him close, refusing to let him go… You’d cum without him needing to even touch you– the mere act of sucking his cock being all that you need to climax.

Or maybe– just maybe– you’d fight back. Bite down on his dick, make him bleed, tear him apart… You’d get mad at him, yank him by his messy hair, force his face into the bed and take control…

“F-fuck,” he slips out a high-pitched whine.

He’s getting close, he knows it. The room is growing so, so hot… His head is spinning. He almost wants to stop himself from cumming just so he can relish in his little fantasy just a bit longer– but he lacks even an ounce of self control. Kairos leans down and sinks his teeth into the pillow, precum leaking all over it. Even more tears prick the corners of his eyes as he imagines himself cumming inside your mouth, envisioning you moaning as you choke it all down.

Then he fantasizes you kissing his cock and thanking him, licking and suckling on the tip as he comes down from his high. It’s such a wonderful thought… Such… A wonderful thought…

That’s all it takes for him to come undone.

“A-ah.. Aah..!~”

Kairos’ entire body trembles and jerks as he cums, sweat dripping down his pale cheeks as the intensity of it all washes over him. His breathing is erratic, his heart pounding against his chest.

He’s made a huge mess.

And he doesn’t care that it’s a little bit gross… He kisses the pillow over and over again, pretending that he’s actually just leaning down to kiss your forehead instead. He endlessly whispers the phrase “I love you” as he tenderly strokes it. When he slowly calms down and the fantasy fades away, all he has left are the dark walls of his dusty bedroom and the cum-soaked pillow between his legs.

It’s pathetic.

Kairos chokes down a labored sob as he weakly throws the pillow across the room– his face red with embarrassment. It hits the wall and plops onto the floor, folding in on itself. His hands ball up into tight fists.

Kairos can’t take this anymore.

He wants you– no, he needs you so badly. He craves you like a hard drug, yearns for your unconditional love, dreams every night of owning you entirely.

Sneak into your bedroom, kidnap you, or make love to you while you’re sleeping– he needs to do something, anything, just to get even the smallest taste of you.

But right now… He’s too tired. His body collapses, his heart aching in his chest. He runs his fingers through his bangs, the sweat making his hair a mess. In some strange way, he feels at peace– at peace knowing that one day, you will be his, and his alone.. It’s just… A matter of time.

His fantasies will become a reality.

His eyes slowly flutter shut as he smiles weakly from ear-to-ear, the tears fading away as he dreams of the day where he can hold you close in the gentle cage of his loving arms.

#kairos posting #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere fic #yandere male x reader #my silly little guy

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fluloa · 1 year

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SOAKED | jake sully x reader [mini series pt. 4]

only warning for u alien fuckers: it’s a bit filthy. mentally prepare yourself ig. TWO HANDS ON THE PHONE PEOPLE

You're sharpening your knife as you sit in the designated spot for your next lesson. You're dreading it, if you're honest with yourself. You have so many emotions bottled up, just waiting to explode and Jake's probably going to be the victim of it. The weather is a bit on the cold side, giving you gentle shivers and making goosebumps rise on your arms. Your stomach is full with a weird feeling, anticipation almost.

Jake's husked voice startles you, "Looks alright."

You sigh quietly. Speak of the devil. You don't look at him when he walks over to you, sits down beside you with his big body as he bends a leg up, leaning his arm over his knee. "It's tricky because you really gotta flick it at the tip," he ghosts a finger along the edge of your knife. "So that it's real sharp."

You flick it hard as he says, but he shakes his head, moving behind you. "Real tight grip here," he closes his hand over yours on the handle, shaking it a bit for exaggeration. You can feel the warm air of his breath, dipping down your neck and it's taunting you. "And— give me your other hand."

You don't give it to him. There's a second of silence before he takes your hand for himself, enveloping it with his own hand before he's lining it up at the thick girth of the knife's base, and striking it up, a nice shing sound coming out of it. He does it a few more times before he's letting your hands go, watching you do it by yourself.

"That's good. Keep it tight." His words of praise shamefully give you a rise, a cool shrivel slivering down your chest. You swear he's doing it on purpose, you swear.

While you flick at your knife with the silver sharpening tool, you look to the side, not directly looking at him but it's enough to grab his attention to your face. "Remember that hexapede I killed?" He hums in a curious tone, and you take it as a response to speak further. "Well, I tried looking for it, but it wasn't there. Some other animal must've snatched it up."

"Nah, I carried it back to the village," he announces.

"Right. When you left me?" you ask, tugging a sharper strike to your knife than the other strikes. Jake notices it. His jaw tenses, blinking to you with his eyes boring holes into your form.

"When I left you." He swallows, "Listen, I wanna apologise—"

"Oh, you want to apologise, Jake?" you laugh sarcastically, venom dripping from your words.

His jaw tenses, "I didn't want to leave you."

You snap your head back, a glare stung into your eyes. "But you did."

"You're making it out like it's a bad thing that I did."

You laugh dryly, chucking your knife onto the ground as you stand up. He immediately stands up with you, glowering over you. "You know that it is."

"Don't tell me what I know and don't know, girl." Jake warns, nose twitching. "I helped you, and then left. That simple."

"You can't tell me that you weren't just fucking me to help me. That's not how it works and if you say otherwise, you're lying," you snarl.

He's quiet for a second, searching back and forth between your eyes with his chest rising with a long breath in, "I don't—"

You give him a harsh shove to the chest, hissing out a groan of anger. His eyes blow out wide, then they relax into a dangerous squint. Your eyes widen. He reaches for you and grabs firmly at your wrist, his fingers clutched tight around your bone and your arm twitches with the sudden spring of pain. You attempt to slip your wrist out of his grasp, and when it doesn't work and he doesn't budge, you claw at his jaw recklessly. It's successful and he lets go of your wrist with a grunt.

He grabs your hair, fisting his fingers through your scalp before yanking it back. You swing your leg and kick him in the stomach, sending him back as you zoom past him.

He acts quick and grabs your tail, tugging you back towards him and for the millionth time this week, presses you against him. You stamp on his foot, digging your nails into the skin of his arm and he cries out, a half-hiss and half-groan. He flips you, finds the tree right beside you and pushes you flat against it. He takes both of your wrists into his hands as he shakes them angrily. You scramble and squirm in his grip. "I'll tell you what I know, girl, and you'll fucking listen."

You whine out a hiss, heart beating against your rib cage like it's about to pop out and splatter across the ground. He hisses back, edged fangs spiking out from his mouth and it makes your skin crawl in either a bad or a good way, you're not entirely sure.

"I know that you're the most beautiful person I've ever fuckin’ seen," he pants. "You don't know what you do to me, huh? Just your giggle makes my stomach drop. It annoys the shit out of me how you've got me drawn to you, it's damn stupid. I don't know what to do with myself anymore."

You try to wiggle your wrists out from his grip, but it proves to be helpless, a smug look flickering in his eyes that makes you want to clock him straight in the face. Jake picks your joined wrists up off the tree and slams them back onto the wood for a hard warning. "You— you think you're confused?" you sneer between huffed breaths. "Mr. I'mfuckingyoutohelpyouconcentratenotbecauseIwantto. Like that doesn't fuck with my feelings! By the way— it didn't help me focus, just like the last time, what a surprise."

His lips split into a snarl, an annoyed flick of his tail as he glares you down, his chest grumbling with a deep growl. You return him with the same feverous eyes, chest strong and upheld with no sense of backing down.

Then you catch it. The weakness of only a man; the millisecond of a pair of eyes dropped down to your heaving lips. Your eyelashes flutter, a new tension rushing in like a thick cloud of smoke. Your heads jut forward at the same time, teeth clashing in a rushed, wanted motion morphed into a messy kiss.

But it's different this time. It feels different, different than the first kiss he gave you the first time you were pushed up against a tree. You can't pinpoint it, but it's just different.

He lets your wrists go, grip fading to a none until your arms are flopping around his shoulders. His tongue slips with ease into the cavern of your mouth, as he uses a hand to cup the part of your neck just below your ear, bring your face even closer to his. You let your head tilt, allowing him a wider opening to your mouth that he groans lowly in thanks to.

He skims past your loincloth, palming your hot cunt and grinding the hard edge of his palm directly onto your clit. "This give you déjà vu from last time?"

You groan, back arching towards his head. "Shut up and put your fingers in me," you whine.

"I remember leaving with the biggest fuckin' boner. Seein' you all whiney and shit and like putty in my hands," he claims, seeming like he can just feel the pain from remembrance. "Good thing you can fix it for me this time."

He says this as he leisurely slides two fingers into your cunt, and you suck in a tight breath, the thick girth of them lengthening you out. "And just like that, sucking me allll the way in," he whispers in astonishment, just like the last time.

"Will you just shut up?" you groan, wheezing out a groan when his fingers curl into your walls. He strokes them in and out of you, slowly and steadily. He presses loosely at your clit, gentle circles on the sensitive bud.

Then he suddenly pulls his two fingers out, staring at the thin strings of your juices that stick to his finger pads, "Wet enough."

He kneels to the ground in a rush, taking you with him as he fumbles to untie your top. You drag your hands along his skin, touching every patch of hard bone and toned muscle you can manage. You're both kneeling in front of each other, grabbing at any clothing that gets in the way of each other's fingers. He pushes you back with a hand, laying you out in the grass as he scoops his hand down to your pussy, runs a thumb over your clit. Jake leans down, grabbing at the bone of your hips and jutting you closer to him.

Jake cooly wraps a hand around his cock, sighs as he starts to stroke the length in slow movements. He reaches out from behind him, and your stomach drops. He presents his tsaheylu to you with a sense of shyness, his head tilted down. You look between him and the glowy, spiky end of his platt.

Your silence speaks volumes to him, and just before he's going to say something to rub it off as a joke, you're reaching from behind you as well, body squirming in anticipation as you air your tsaheylu next to his. They twitch and fizzle, swaying so close and it's just that tiny bit of space that needs to be filled.

He looks to you, eyes softening in one last ask and you give him a reassuring, hasty nod. He readjusts his grip on his platt, leaning his tsaheylu just a little closer and they connect. A surge of electricity bolts through your body, biting in a gasp as your skin jitters. You feel it, you feel him, understand him. Understand everything.

Jake's blinking rapidly, as he leans over you just to nuzzle his face into your neck, his hot pants of breath pressing into your skin. He slurs over his words, "Oh my... fffuck, s' good, you're so good."

"Jake," you warn, voice wavering as you tremble underneath his warm body. "Need you ins— inside me. Right now, Jake, please."

He teases his cock at your entrance, letting out a shaky breath at your warm wetness trickling down his tip. You gasp when he slips it in with one thrust, bottoming out perfectly as he sits in snug. He breathes out a quiet laugh, "You're so... fuck, girl. So warm and— and ni—hice."

You dig your nails into his back, tail curling around his thigh. You feel everything he feels, connecting with him at such a level that all you can do is hold onto him, just needing to feel him, to hold him and kiss him and fuck him and do everything as long as it's him. You can only rasp one word out. "Jake."

He snaps his hips into you, starts at a pace that's brutal and uncalculated. His cock pushes into your tightness with ease, like it was made for him. You pull him in with each thrust he gives you, welcoming him in to the warmth of your femininity, your body that he's claimed as his.

Your pussy flutters around his girth with every single groan he lets slip from his throat, voice cracked and husky from the euphoria he's coated with. He lands a kiss to your neck, suckling at the skin before biting down, a sting that zips through your body all the way down to your cunt. You squeal, back snapping into an arch and he scoops an arm around it, giving him a better grip on your body to deepen his thrusts, to strive further up into your pussy.

He desperately grabs at your thighs, swings them up and over his shoulders as your feet dangle in the air. It opens up a whole new angle, and you scream out, his dick hitting steeper and stronger inside of you. Your hair is tangled from the ground, the skin of your back grinding against the dirt of it.

At the new found angle, he groans, head leaning up a little as his eyelids close halfway, his eyes bruised in a haze. He's completely lost in the way you squeeze around him, the way his cock feels sliding into your tight body. It's like a drug. A new found addiction.

"Shut up, hah— jus' fuck me," you babble, a moan ripping out of your chest when his hips thrust a sudden jolt into your pussy, brushing over your cervix.

"How funny," he pants out, smirking like a goddamn idiot and you frown.

"What?" you question, a quick moan breaking from you when a random wave of heat splashes through your stomach.

"Bet Selkath wishes he was wearing this necklace." He rasps, letting a harsh laugh fall from his mouth as he reaches up a hand and tugs on your ankles wrapped right around neck.

You make a weak hiss, turning into a groan when he lifts his body higher, angles his cock deeper up into your cunt. "If you don't shut up, maybe I'll let him."

Jake growls, eyes flicking wild, turning a dark and dangerous hue that you can tell is whipped with a color of jealousy, even betrayal. "You won't even be able to feel him graze your pussy once I'm done with you."

You feel a purr erupt from your chest, your inner woman squealing in delight because yes, she screams, he must breed you until all you can feel his body and only his and nothing else.

He brushes a hand over your cheek, face distorted in complete bliss and he stares deep into your face, tail swishing at the way your mouth agapes. His hands slip to your waist, thumbs digging into your stomach and he uses it as a leverage to bring you back harder onto his dick, lifting you up until you're practically leaning on his body to stay off the ground. He bends you to his will like you're a rubber band, like a toy.

"So warm," he coos, and you whine, digging your head into the grass laying beneath it. You don't want him saying that, don't want him climbing his stupid fingers into your heart and taking it any more than he already has. The feminine instinct fixed in the depths of you screams mate, mate, mate. Big, protective mate that needs to pound you into oblivion or you'll lose your mind. That along with the anger that burns inside you, like a match that's been lit way too many times and is about to snap underneath the pressure of his hands.

"Jake, just shut up," you snap, sentence ending on a hasty push when he smashes his lips onto yours, exploring your mouth with the thick flat of his tongue. He kisses you with a fever, an aching want with a grunt falling from his lips and straight onto the slick of your tongue. Jake crawls a hand up your body and to your head, fingers threading through your hair and he turns your head forcefully, allowing him to deepen the kiss and wrap his tongue tighter along yours.

"God, you're just fucking beautiful," he grunts, slapping your hips. "With this pretty fucking pussy, s' good for me and your little noises and— ssshhit, my girl. S' made for me, you're made for me."

My girl. It makes your stomach spin, makes you clench around his cock driving in and out of you and he groans, "You liked that, huh? My girl?"

You feel his pace inch a slower, and you're confused. His hand scrapes to one of your hands, slipping through the gaps of your fingers and he conjoins them together, pressing deep against the ground. His mouth breaks from yours, deep, panting breaths shaking out from his chest as he leans down to ravage your neck, licking and sucking at your skin like it's a ripe fruit.

You recognise the speed of his thrusts. Slow but strong, like he's trying to memorise each drag of his cock squeezing into your pussy, each squelch and pull of your walls gushing around his length. The rock of his hips is sweet, an act of something you can only describe as passion. You scratch out a whine. You squirm from underneath him, attempting to buck yourself up into him to speed it up, make him nail so hard into you that you see stars. But it doesn't work. He stays the same warm speed, slow rocks into your pussy as he lowly sighs with every calming push.

"No," you whimper, voice lower than a whisper, so quiet it could count as another breath. You huff out an angered patch of air out through your nose. You use both hands and push him, and he doesn't expect it because he tumbles back, flipping onto his back and hitting the trunk of the tree with a big thump. You ignore the cold air pushing on your wet cunt, the sudden loss of his cock deep inside of you making you shudder.

You crawl onto him, eyes wide with hunger and from what he can see, anger. Your tail flicks as you palm his shoulders, knees on each side of his legs as you air just above his dick. You grip at his tsaheylo and conjoin it to yours again, a flush rushing through you both. You catch the way his eyes flatten against his head for a second at your determined, heated gaze, now realising the rage you held. A woman who's not satisfied with her mate's fucking, there's nothing scarier. Especially after everything he's teased her for, everything he's done to her for the past week.

"Baby, you ain't gonna last two rocks with those little hips." Jake mutters, emphasising the words two rocks as he places his hands comfortable on your hips. You don't reply, instead lowering your body and inch by inch, sinking down onto his cock. He lengthens you up, and you feel so full and nice that you let out a sigh that screams finally, all the while hearing Jake take the biggest breath you've ever heard him take.

You're not wasting time as you start grinding against him, ears twitching, head falling back in utter bliss. Jake slips out a quiet laugh, and it sounds nervous. He watches as your breasts shift with each sway of your hips, and his cock twitches inside of you at the obscure scene. It's perfect, so, so perfect with the way his cock drags through you. But you need more.

You begin lifting yourself up, rocking right back down onto him, the motion of riding coming into play little by little. Jake's breath hitches, his hands twitching at your hips. Your cunt pulses around him, puffy folds tugging his dick so perfectly. He lets his head slump against the tree, the rise of his chest speeding up.

You lean forward, a sudden desperation taking over you, the anger flickering in your abdomen crackling to a fire. You grab at his hair, press your cheek against the top of his head as your hips move in an up and down circular motion. Jake chokes out a grunt, springing forward to kiss at your chest, shoving his face into your breasts as his tongue lolls out along your bare skin.

He pants, messy kisses along your chest as his mouth fans out hot breaths. "My g—"

"Shut. Up." You pull on his hair, forcing his head further back and moaning as you stride your body, moving his cock in so deep, then moving it just about out before you rock it back in. You shift a hand to grip at the tree for better stability, rising up before gravity whips you back down onto his dick. A whine leaves his lips, a literal whine. It's so, so quiet, but you hear it, and he knows it. He can tell by the way your ears flutter at his head. You puff out a laugh that's hilted with breath.

He leaves deep kisses along your chest, kissing at the plush fat of your tits and decorating the map of your torso with dark marks and tiny red hickeys. His tongue finds your nipple, swirling it around the hard bud and you move your hips faster, huffing out a moan as sweat beads neat at your forehead. The blunt of his nails dig deep into the skin of your hips, and starts to move your hips with his grip, sharpening your strokes into his dick and you hum an appreciated sigh.

You've left him stunned for words, mouth hung open as you grind your cunt deep along his cock, riding him like he's a goddamn stallion. You wrap your fingers around his leathered choker, leaning your head back and pulling him rough into an even rougher kiss. You can feel him pant into the kiss, his silent groans pressing on your tongue. His lips are wet and messed with saliva from previous times, all the while making them softer and easier to run your tongue over.

A broken moan escapes his mouth, muffled by your lips engulfed in his but it only whips the fire tangled inside your tummy, makes your body swing harder along his. You give him a sloppy kiss on the corner of his lips, before nibbling at the bottom centre of it, "Who's whining now?"

His hips jerk up into yours, a stutter of a motion and you can feel the vibration, the angry rumble of his chest and it only encourages you further to drive your hips harder. "Still you," he bites, but his pinched expression melts into a blissful one when you raise your waist higher, slamming back down onto him in one quick motion.

Anger fuels through your bones, all the way down your body to your toes that dig into the ground, dirt blotched on them from the constant movement and curl of them. Jake snaps his hips up into your sopping sex, gaining a low groan through his chest as he digs his messy head of hair into the tree against him.

Your body burns and shakes with every stride of your hips, sliding his cock into you with reckless rhythm. You're shivering with hot emotion, a blurred mixture of adore and vexation, and Jake can feel every single drop of it. You feel him shift underneath you, eyes squinting and his tail whacking the tree accidentally with a swift brush. He mumbles your name, the hoarse gruff of his voice sending a shivered bolt down your spine.

You already know he's preparing some rushed apology, some kind of reason as to why he's been throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes lately but you don't want to hear it. All your body and your being screams at you is to ride his cock and make him spill into you. Mark him as yours.

You want the release, can feel it burning up inside you and splintering at your fingertips, ready to explode into flames. Except this time it isn't him giving it to you, you're giving it to yourself, circling your hips around his cock like it's the last thing you're going to do.

And by Eywa, does Jake fucking love it. He's too focused in the way your perfect little cunt drives him, slipping his cock into your body like it's a piece of cake. He's entranced by the way your hips dance, the perky little bone of them sticking out against your skin each time you lean forward into his stomach. He's getting fucked dumb, and he can't even bring himself to give a shit. Never in his life has he ever met a girl that could ride like you. No, never in his life has a ever met a girl like you. And he doesn't think he ever will, not that he wants or needs to now. Your body is just too sickly sweet, and everything in his body screams at him to just keep his cock glued into you, fill you with his cum until all you can feel is it.

You feel it coming, feel the same mountain morphing as it soars above you. You use your hand to lean at his head, using it as your advantage to ride him rougher, dragging his cock firmer into your cunt. He lets you, now fucking up into you with matched energy and you're bouncing from the capacity. Sweat is slick on your skin, mending with his own and you just need to feel him, touch the soft skin he owns as you bounce on his length. Apparently Jake feels the same, as he pinches and grabs at any part of your body he can reach, mouth touching where his hands can't.

He drags out your name, desperation covering the word and filling in the air after with throaty groans. “Let me come in you, sweetheart. Come on, please. Need to, darlin’ please, need—“

“Yes,” you squeal, scratching at his skin while jutting your hips against him violently. “Pleasepleaseplease,” you beg, crave covering your voice in a high-pitched whine.

Then it hits you, like a bomb setting off, the fire in your belly exploding into millions of little red embers. The mountain erupts like a volcano, and you can feel every little piece cracking down into the ground and out your body. Jake yells out, croaking out a loud grunt as he spills into you, coating your walls with his sticky load. Your head’s spinning, eyes seeing a splash of colors and all you can do is rock in his arms, as you attempt to catch your running breath.

You’re trembling, quaking even as you lay still, Jake’s cock sitting limp in your body. The only thing you can focus on is your conjoined breaths, everything else seeming to hard to even look at. You don’t even realise you’re crying until the tears sink to your neck, and the sound of your quiet sniffles.

You don’t know how long it’s been until Jake begins to shift, and you pull enough strength to lean back. He looks to you, his face set into a hue of content, a small smug smile pulling at his lips. He reaches out to your face, wipes the tears on your face with his thumb lazily. “Holy shit,” he chuckles.

You let out a needed, soft laugh, and his smile widens at the noise of it, tail whisking up at your reaction. He pulls in a breath, chest rising up as he takes both his arms and cups your face. You lean into his warm touch, slumping your forehead against his.

“I see you,” he whispers gently, curling a few fingers around your neck.

“I see you.” You whisper back, mouth cracking into a giddy smile. And when you look into his eyes, you recognise the emotion behind them within a second; love.

wow. biggest chapter out of all of them and i can’t decide whether i like it or not

BIG SHOUTOUT TO @slxttedjakesullyenthusiast who helped me make this filthy fucking piece of whatever it is and if u don’t go follow her im kicking you in the pussy don’t test me

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grimm-writings · 1 month

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Hiiii, I would like some Dungeon Meshi headcanons please! Reader is the oldest human in the main group and they're really motherly towards them. Like they're always fretting over their well beings and acting like a doting parent. And if you want, could you also add that Chilchuck's kinda into that so he falls for them?

That's all thank you!

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader, platonic touden party & reader

…tags! fluff, some crack, headcanon format, mild manga spoilers, reader is referred to as ‘mom’ once

…wc! 847

…notes! the way i nearly screeched in delight when i got this ask. chilfuckers i’m one of you let me in. you used they/them for the reader so i’m gonna assume this is a maternal gn reader! i hope it is for your liking ty for being my first request 🥺

Having a more wise, of age individual in the party is always a plus when you need some advice.

And when most people in the party are absolute lunatics.

You have your hands full trying to stop Laios acting recklessly in action, or doting on Marcille when her emotions get the best of her. Goodness, even Senshi has your hair going grey from how he gets sometimes!

Laios just sort of… lets your doting happen.

He can get slightly grumbly if you get too mad at him. Still, it’s not the worst thing a parental figure could do. Go easy on him!

Marcille takes psychic damage upon learning your age. She’s staring at you, at the age in your face, and taking the years into account.

It’s simply not computing. You… You should be, like, a pre-teen or something! Human ageing baffles her once again.

Still… she is incredibly receptive to you doting on her. She’s more of a carer on instinct but she finds herself falling into you whenever her spoons are low.

Senshi just sort of hits you with the “why tho” when you try fretting. It’s actually slightly frustrating. Still, you can recognise his wisdom and take a step back. He can take care of himself… most of the time.

Izutsumi… oh the dear girl.

You must have recognised the signs immediately. Her lack of table manners, her reclusive nature… she’s so young.

The girlcat was a bit prickly to any doting at first. You would probably remind her a bit too much of Maizuru for her liking.

With time, perhaps sometime after he run-in with her succubus, Izutsumi would be a bit more welcoming of how you treat her. It’s… It makes her feel nice, or whatever.

She accidentally calls you Mom once. She was mortified as Marcille squeals in delight and Laios laughs to himself. You couldn’t even ask if she thinks of you as a mother figure before she’s already stomping away to hide in a corner somewhere.

Then there’s Chilchuck. Oh, what to say about him.

You probably thought he was a young human at first too. He’s taller than other half-foots after all. Still, as soon as you even try to act maternal around him, he yells at you and tells you he isn’t a kid.

Keep your distance for a bit, and he’ll warm up to you again.

Watching you do your thing with the other party members will have him commenting that he has no idea how you can just keep up with everyone like this, and he’s the one with three kids here.

You just smile gently and reply that it helps you keep stability knowing everyone in the party is doing alright. At that, Chilchuck will give you a glance, and internalise your words.

Upon Izutsumi’s arrival into the party, Chilchuck’s perspective on you begins to alter slightly.

Initially, he respected you a fair bit. You were more like the two older co-workers constantly giving each other looks at the younger ones’ antics.

But he sees you with this child he also has to admit he’s grown attached to. You really were a natural maternal figure to Izutsumi. He watches you tend to her sometimes, a smile slowly curling on his lips.

Then he catches himself, and his blood runs cold.

…Ohhh, shit.

Chilchuck is level headed most of the time, but when he’s panicking he can’t keep his cool to save his life.

Around you, he becomes more… frantic, in a way. Lecturing others to give you a break, even if he can just have a small talk with you. If asked what’s up he’d raise his voice defensively and say it doesn’t matter.

One time, Izutsumi decided she can’t choose between her two favourite human heaters, and practically forced you and Chilchuck to sleep on either side of her. Even with the girl slotted in between you two, Chilchuck was internally losing his mind at the closeness.

He even lets you dote on him a bit more again. Not too much, though. He’ll accept the occasional checking in and headpat but that’s it!

You can very easily pick up on his feelings for you. It’s not hard to notice the shift in his attitude.

Well… It’s not like you can complain. You may offer to help him out with his future shop once you’re out of here, giving him a slight wink.

Cherish how red his face gets. He won’t let anyone else embarrass him so easily. Maybe pinch his cheeks if you’re feeling brave, but he may swat you away depending on his mood.

At the end of the day, he’ll give you a small smile, and wonder aloud where the Hell all the party would be if it weren’t for you.

(Bonus! I think Falin would also super appreciate your presence. She’s the kind to simply take her own parents’ treatment of her and shrug it off in a ‘it is what it is’ sort of way. Your doting attitude would leave her slightly discombobulated, but she’s very welcome to it.)

#✮ grimm's fics!#chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck tims imagines #chilchuck imagines #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon #delicious in dungeon imagines #delicious in dungeon x reader #laios touden #marcille donato #senshi of izganda #izutsumi #falin touden

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diejager · 3 months

Note

Is there a Milf reader who have to take care of task 141 when they ask for a night stay? >:)) imagine they are your husband friends. (Your husband couldn’t knock you out so they help)

Affair Cw: implied cheating, voice kink, polygamy, creampie, rough sex, soft sex, fluff, fivesome/gangbang, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1.5k

Your husband, sweet Tom, had friends over, drinking and laughing echoing from the kitchen, loud and boisterous sounds filled with ease and pleasure. You’d never heard him so joyous with anyone else - apart from you, he was a loving man - joking and chuckling so openly, in comparison to his quiet and humble self outside of your home.

Donning a robe over your attire, you wrapped yourself warmly before walking down the stairs, padded feet muffling your steps down the smooth, wooden flooring. You gazed into the dining room, staring at Tom’s back at the end of the table, his leaner build in contrast to his friend’s broad shoulders, and the dichotomy of their various personality that shine through their eyes. Unlike your husband’s soft hazel, the four men had beautiful shades, two blues: a violent, stormy blue and a bright, electric sky, and two browns: a dark and thunderous brown, and a warm and gentle chocolate. It stirred something in your gut, a warmth that shouldn’t be there.

Your sudden appearance had surprised them, four pairs of eyes alerting Tom that you stumbled into their little chat. Tom peered over his shoulder, his pretty hazel meeting your eyes and smiled softly, coaxing you over his side with a hand. Pushed forward, you stepped out of the dark hallway and into the lighted room, hand sliding into Tom’s and seated in his lap, bringing your robe closer to your chest.

“My sweet wife,” his eyes gleamed proudly, lips dancing across yours in a delicious show of adoration, “These are my friends from the SAS, dear.”

You let your eyes rove over them, to Tom’s left was a rugged-looking man with a wild mohawk with the electric blues, a zealous smirk gracing his lips. Beside him was the man with dark eyes, a hood pulled over his head and a skull-painted mask over his face, leaving a dusty black painted around his eyes like a dark shroud over his black garments. At the head of the table was a bear-like man in a beanie that exhumed confidence and stoicism with his stormy blue-grey, a cigar hanging from the corner of his lips and arms folded against his chest. And the final man, leaner than the others, but as big as the rest with his warm skin and warmer, chocolate eyes, a well-trimmed moustache and stubble, and his cute, flag-printed cap, casting a shadow over his dazzling eyes.

They all looked at you softly, your name rolling off their tongues with a distinct accent that made your lashes flutter and throat clog, introducing themselves with a little quip of their lips, two smiles, one reckless grin and a gentle squint of his eyes. Kyle was the softest one, John the leading figure, Simon the man shrouded in mystery and Johnny the one with a Scottish drawl. You wouldn’t mind them coming by more often when the kids were asleep upstairs.

Johnny was a feral man, jumping you in bed and tearing your clothes away with two or three gestures, ripping your shirt from the seams and tearing the gusset of your panties into pieces. He left you naked and wanting, writhing under him and his teasing kisses, teeth bared and snarling. Johnny was an overzealous sort, recklessly dominant with his whole body, throwing himself at you without any baseline, going without a plan or second thought. He was a man that believed that acts dictated how he felt and that was how he could show it to you —with his body.

He kissed you roughly, all teeth and biting, nipping at your lip and jaw, sinking into the meat of your neck and shoulder as he split you open on his cock, his veined girth and wild pubes. He praised you with every breath, grasping your hips and waist with a soft grip, kneading your breasts and thigh, fat and skin squeezed between his fingers. He filled you with more than just his cock, he purged you of stress, blowing away any fear away with smothering kisses and the rough tap of his tip against your cervix.

He left you satiated, face buried in your covers and snoring away after he bathed and took care of you, feeding you snacks and water and tucking you to bed. Brushing your hair back and promising to stay until your husband came back, whispering promises to come see you again.

Kyle was an angel, setting the line between what he was willing and wasn’t to do to you, lifting you up slowly, building up a heat in your core and making you boil over the edge. He shrugged off your robes with soft, guiding hands, lowering you to your bed and going down on you as if you were the last thing he’d ever eat. He stretched you open with his tongue and fingers, pulling orgasm after orgasm until you were left a mess. His love language was praises and softness, a gentle dominance with a smile and loving caresses.

He embraced you slowly, pushing into you tender kisses, lips dancing across yours to paint a Renaissance artwork worth being hung in the Salon des Refusés. A painting of your body lost in the throes of pleasure, your face twisted and nipples perked up, toes curled and fingers gripping your bed sheets, and lips glossy as you moan out his name. Kyle put you on a pedestal, a painting rivalling the beauty of Monet’s Olympia, your skin the same softness of her image, your hair spiralled wildly and him waiting against you for your every beck and call. You were the Olympia of his world.

He filled what Johnny couldn’t, his cock leaner than the Scot’s, but he made up with his longer length, brushing against your g-spot before hitting the deepest part of your cunt, drilling a spot for himself with his rapidly growing pace and gentle hold, gripping your hair to have you arch against him, staring up at the ceiling with fluttering lashes.

Simon came third, a wall standing between you and your freedom, a force to submit to. He was a rough lover, hands calloused and gruff voice. He manhandled you into your mattress, pressing your face into your bed while he ploughed through you. He was brutal and silent, taking control of you without uttering a single word, legs open and slick rolling down your thighs. Simon had you call him Sir or Master in the bedroom, having you scream his title and voice your needs to him, cries muffled by your wet cushion.

You felt every graze of his girth, thicker than the two before him and long with heavy balls, his cock throbbing inside of you when you clenched down. He loomed over you, an inked arm forcing you to arch your back, ass raised high and face down by the harsh hold of his hand. He was a mass of fat and muscles, unmoving and rough, snapping his hips against yours while he murmured filthy things, dirty and degrading words before throwing praises, lacing them with demeaning remarks. He swore he’d prepare you for Price, that he was the last step before you’d be completely ruined for anyone else, still filling you up with his cum.

You were unconscious by the time he tucked you in bed, taking his time to clean you up while you dozed away, dreaming about the men who gave you something to dream of while they were gone. When you woke up, you realised he left you a message on your phone under an unknown number, and you added him without a second thought.

When John came over, he expected you to obey him, kneeling by his feet in nothing but your panties, gazing at him with wide and teary eyes, tensing your thighs to drive off the tingling heat between your legs. Your core burned with a wildfire that hungered for more, hole leaky and clenching around nothing while you served John, your lips wrapped around his girth, drooling down his balls. John was stern, demanding to let yourself go to him, but he was hard like Simon, gentle like Kyle and rough like Johnny.

But unlike them, he moved with precision, folding you in half as he pumped you full of himself, his cock abruptly sinking into you before he pulled out completely and snapped his hips, burying himself balls deep inside of you. With your legs hanging off his shoulders and his hand collaring your neck, you let out choked breaths, his thrusts punching the air out of your body with the pointed and precise drive of his hips. He made you come twice before he filled you up, gushing around him with a loud whine, being bred by Tom’s friend from the Air Force.

He left you debauched and ruined, his spend leaking from your cunt and swollen clit throbbing from being pinched and rolled throughout your session. He kissed you goodbye before he left your room, pulling the blanket over your dazed and naked figure.

You couldn’t look at them in the eye when they all gathered for another boy’s night at your house, seated on Tom’s lap, fiddling with your finger as his thumb drew circles on your thigh to soothe your apparently sudden nerves.

“Did you remember to thank them, dear?” He kissed the skin behind your ears, teasing you with his breathy voice.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy

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bunnibaby-love · 4 months

Note

i luv all your fics sm ^_^ i get so excited whenever i see u post hehe can you do blade wif a bunny reader too ? :]

🐰 Blade x Bunny!Reader 🐰

♡ female reader + nn little girl n bun + sub reader + manipulation + oral m receive

Blade thirst of death makes him act recklessly on every situation and making him always bruise and hurt and neither Kafka or Silver Wolf wanted to patch it anyways, Kafka found you, a bunny somewhere that will be Bladie's little nurse

"Bladie omg so many blood oh oh my aeons.." you pout and your ears drooping while treating his wounds for the first time "You have to be very careful!"

Blade should be mad but instead he is amuse. Your frown is cute he poke your nose "Shut up now" hiding the ghost of his smirk, he is carefully enjoying watching you. You're just as cute as those cat cakes the trailblazer has!

That leads to Blade just wanted to get more bruise to see your concern teary expression. He can't even kill a stray bunny that is getting on his way because it's just like you.

"You have a poison on your manhood?! That would hurt so much!" you gasped when he told you his concern on your little clinic you even costumize with those cute stuffs

"Bunnies can heal with their tongue and mouth...you would help me right little girl?" Againt with your confuse expression oh he have to make you believe him "I saw on a book...surely you won't disappoint? if you do maybe i'll finally die"

"I...i'll do it!!" Blade loves how expressive you are. Is it also because that is something he lacks? he pulls down his pants and reveal his long veiny manhood

"It's so swollen!" silly bunny. Blade just smirk of course there's no poison there he's just horny "I just have to lick?" you ask still amaze with it

"You have to suck my whole cock on your little mouth bunny" he held your chin "go on little girl"

Althought you are still confuse you did your very best! You tried to take it whole but you just cough and choke and had to pull out but Blade show a grumpy expression "Sorry it must hurt..." you instantly continues to take him more and more

"Fuck bunny....so tiny.." he held both of your ears and control your paced. It's hurting you! you look at his with teary eyes but he just grin "feels good bun...swallow kay?"

Thick ropes of white liquid flows out your mouth that you forcefully swallow when Blade enters his two thick fingers "that's a good bunny"

"Mhn you okay now...?" you ask and wipes your tears

'I don't think so...i need to release more you can help me more right?" the invite is tempting you and your insides feels wet and hot! "just be my cock whore you slutty bunny"

ps : thanku lovely n lovelots to u too !! 💕

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader #blade x reader #hsr blade #blade smut

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sooniebby · 1 year

Text

ఌ 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔

❝ 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚 ❞

꧁ 𝙄𝙯𝙪𝙠𝙪 𝙭 𝙆𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞’𝙨 𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Teaser ➤ Izuku realizes he must act to get what he wants.

Word count › 1.7k

Rating › NSFW

Warnings › possessive behavior and borderline obsession from Izuku

Kinks › mentions of breeding/creampie

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

Izuku had always wondered how Katsuki was related to him. Bakugo (Name). An angel compared to the devil that Katsuki was. He was only three years his senior with looks that resembled Masaru. His quirk was a bit underdeveloped compared to Katsuki's.. Weak, really.

But that's what he liked. He liked that (Name) didn't judge him for being quirkless. Unlike Katsuki. He still remembered that time (Name) slapped Katsuki for calling him ‘Deku.’

Katsuki hadn't really bothered him after that. His little lackeys, sure, but Katsuki himself didn't say much. Izuku couldn't be sure if Katsuki was even helping him sometimes against the bullies. But he knew Katsuki would never willingly say that he was.

He'd kill if he asked.

Izuku sighed to himself as he tugged off his sweaty suit. Of course the meeting his attended with Iida turned into an ambush by some lowlife villains. They won, obviously, but he still worked up a sweat in one of his favorite suits.

He turned it over to check for damages and to his dismay, there was a large scratch.

“(Name) got me this...” He muttered to himself. He felt the sudden urge to kill someone. (Name) had spent so much money to find a suit that was tailored to his larger body type and didn't rip once his arms went through.

What was he supposed to do?

Logically, fix it.

But emotionally, he wanted the villain who ruined such a special gift to gravel at his feet for ruining such a precious item.

He shook his head. He'd find someone to fix it. Resting it on his chair in his bedroom, he walked over to check his phone before noticing someone was calling him.

Katsuki?

“Hello?”

“Tch, what the hell have you been doing to not answer me? I thought today was your day off?” Katsuki's usually angry voice bled through the phone. But Izuku knew he was a little bit worried.

He could read Katsuki's emotions better now ever since they graduated.

“Sorry. I left my phone at home when I went to visit Iida.” Just a little white lie wouldn't hurt.

“You free now?”

“Yes, why? Did something happen?”

Katsuki paused for a second. “Come straight here. Don't do anything crazy, alright? You worked too hard for your hero's license.”

“Huh? What happened?” Izuku frowned. Sure, he acted recklessly sometimes but he had grown older. He knew to think before acting compared to his high school self.

“It's (Name). I—”

Katsuki frowned as the call ended. He cursed to himself, hoping Izuku was just coming straight his brother's house. Dressed in his hero suit, he wished he could stay longer with (Name) but he had already used his days off two weeks ago.

“(Name)?” He asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft if anyone had heard him. (Name) huffed as he glanced up from his pillow, tears staining his face. His glasses were on the nightstand, the right eye broken from the incident that happened this morning.

“De—Izuku's coming. Are you okay with that?”

(Name) frowned. He was happy to see Izuku, it's been awhile but he didn't want him to see him like this. So weak and broken. (Name) simply nodded, wondering if he was the older brother or did Katsuki really just grow ever since UA.

A harsh knock the door shocked the two as Katsuki grunted. “Stupid nerd...” He stalked off to have a talk with Izuku, making sure (Name) couldn't hear whatever they were saying.

(Name) sighed to himself as he reached over to light a candle, using his quirk. His quirk was stronger than most useless ones but it wasn't like Katsuki's. It couldn't be used in a fight. The fire quirk only lasted a few seconds, like little explosions.

It was good for lighting candles and other mundane things. (Name) only used it a few times for self defense and those few times he ended up hurting himself as well.

It was rare that a quirk could also hurt the user. Well, until Izuku came along with an alarming amount of broken arms from his own quirks.

“(Name)-chan?”

“Zuku!” (Name) grinned, a childlike grin on his lips. Izuku was larger than the small home that he shared with Katsuki. (Name) held his arms for a hug that Izuku awkwardly returned.

“Kacchan left. I'll be staying here until he comes back.” Izuku said, sitting down on the bed. The small tv was playing some random American action movie. (Name) hummed.

“Sorry to bother you on your day off,” (Name) laughed. “What happened was really silly...” He glanced over at Izuku to blink at the angry look he was giving him.

“Silly? Getting attacked is silly to you?”

(Name) frowned. When did he get so serious...?

“Eh, no! I was just—”

“Your boyfriend attacked you in public. You had to use your quirk to defend yourself,” Izuku grunted, a scowl on his lips. “I knew he was a terrible person.”

“Huh?”

Izuku's face flushed. He hated every boyfriend (Name) got. There was always an inching pain in his heart that wanted to scare away—or kill—the men in your life. It always ended up being true because of how often they broke (Name)'s heart.

This is just the first time they ever physically hurt you. (Name) huffed, hating how Izuku was somehow inferring he had terrible taste in men.

He did! But that doesn't mean he liked hearing it from someone else.

“Sorry, that was out of line...” Izuku muttered.

(Name) shook his head. “It's fine. There's some truth to that. I'm sorry for having to continually bother you with boyfriend drama.”

“It's not boyfriend drama, (Name).”

(Name) blinked. That was one of the first time Izuku dropped the honorifics from his name. He looked over at Izuku and reached over to touch his arm. They stayed like that in silence before Izuku finally spoke.

“I hate seeing you with anyone.”

“Like with friends?”

“Romantically.”

“Do you like me, Izuku?”

Izuku's face was flushed red as he looked at everything but (Name). (Name) wished he could properly see but without his glasses--things were blurry far away.

“I love you, (Name). I want to keep you as my own. Even when I was younger. Ah, I'm sorry for being creepy. I can get someone else to watch over you!” Izuku panicked, sitting up abruptly.

(Name) grabbed his hand, “wait! You didn't let me answer.”

“Huh?” Izuku turned around to face him.

“I like you too. I just thought it would be weird to have feelings for my little brother's friend.”

“I'm not Kacchan's. I'm yours.” Izuku muttered, kneeling down to press a kiss on (Name)'s lips. (Name) returned it with a smile on his lips as he pulled away with a giggle.

Izuku grasped (Name)'s hands and glanced down at the recent burn mark on them. (Name) frowned, body fidgeting at the sudden attention towards it. He wanted to ignore it. Much to his surprise, Izuku brought the hand to his lips and...

Licked it.

He licked it.

(Name) gasped, mouthing widening to oppose this but only a whimper came out as Izuku nipped at his hand. He could only watch as Izuku's much larger hand practically engulfed his. Each little kiss and lick made him shiver.

Part of him was disgusted hygiene wise while the other was very much into Izuku licking him.

“Do you want to wait?” Izuku suddenly muttered, glancing up with half-lidded eyes that (Name) was sure most fangirls dreamed of at night.

“Wait for what...?”

Izuku blinked, his sudden alter ego seemingly vanishing. “Ah, I'm sorry! I'm rushing things, aren't I?!” His face was full of panic that (Name) could only giggle.

“It's fine... I want you. I waited so long for you.”

Izuku's lips turned upwards into a boyish grin. (Name) was beginning to wonder how long Izuku loved him. It had to be longer than himself.

“I'll show you how long I loved you, (Name).” Izuku whispered.

ꕤ

“You're tight, (Name). Did your other boyfriends not fuck you right?”

(Name) whined, arching his back as he looked away. It had happened so fast. Izuku wasn't as innocent as he looked. The way he opened him and instantly found his prostate was scary. It truly took only two minutes before (Name) was a muttering mess beneath him.

And now this. With the constant squeaking of the bed of the bed, slapping of wet skin, and Izuku's sudden boost of confidence—(Name) wasn't sure he truly knew him.

“Don't... ngh, say that!”

Izuku simply smiled and pressed a chaste kiss on (Name)'s neck. (Name) squealed as his legs were grabbed as Izuku pushed them towards his ears, effectively bending him in a way he never believed was possible. Izuku's dick was large, just like the rest of his body and the burn that (Name) felt was pleasurable and painful.

“Sorry, (Name)-chan... I don't think I can last long,” Izuku grunted, his face turning bright red in embarrassment.

(Name) wasn't sure why he was embarrassed. He was ready to give two minutes ago from the harsh thrusting. A pathetic whimper left his lips as he tried to ignore the sinful squelching of his asshole. He was going to die if Izuku didn't come already.

“Its...mmh! okay. We have...” (Name) gasped at a particular harsh thrust. “Other days!”

(Name) blinked at the feeling of something wet touch his chest. He glanced up to see Izuku on the verge of tears. Only a huff of laughter left (Name)'s lips. Izuku still was a crybaby at heart.

“Then we can have a family in the future...” Izuku muttered. (Name) wasn't sure if he was supposed to hear that part.

“Uh...?”

Izuku brought a hand to (Name)'s more chubbier stomach and a smile formed on his lips. “I wish you could give birth.”

“Pervert...” (Name) giggled, trying to ignore the way he suddenly tightened around Izuku's cock at the thought. Izuku seemed to notice as a subtle smirk ghosted his lips as he quickened his thrusts.

The last minute was the both of them chasing their release as Izuku leaned down next to (Name)'s ears and whispered:

I'm sure we can make this a reality soon.

It shouldn't have made (Name) cum but it did. Izuku was soon right after, a blush ghosting his face as if he wasn't the one who brought breeding in the first place. (Name) simply hummed and wrapped his arms around Izuku, grinning at the warm cum inside of him.

It was going to suck taking it out but he'll enjoy it right now.

“I love you, Izuku.”

“Love you too...”

Before a quick slumber could take over the two—the door opened showing a pissed of Katsuki.

“I said watch my brother, not fuck him, you shitty nerd!!”

Oh, he was screwed.

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

First ever story! I made it short and sweet so you can get the gist of my writing style! I usually go more in depth with smut!

Thank you so much for reading! I’ll be taking any requests I get unless they make me uncomfortable or I don’t know the character.

Reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated!

Uploads are on Friday or Saturday!

#bottom male reader

2K notes · View notes

xiax · 1 year

Text

#"will you eat me out?"

;feat. xiao, diluc, + itto/afab!reader

;cw. cunnilingus

a/n. i like comfortable intimacy don't look at me

all characters presumed to be 18+. minors do not interact.

! XIAO

you both got home late from a commission, getting caught in a thunderstorm and effectively getting soaked to the bone.

the second you both stepped into his room at the inn, you began stripping yourselves of your wet clothes.

xiao plopped on the bed, folding his arms under his head as he relaxed. you paused you toweling of your skin to gaze at him.

he was still nude, strong muscles flexing with every minute movement he made. the position of his arms made his biceps flex and you found yourself clenching your thighs together.

"hey, xiao...?" you ask, approaching him carefully.

he peeked a single eye open to glare at you, though it held no heat to it.

"i was just wondering," you climbed onto the bed beside him, jostling him a bit, "will you eat me out?"

he heaves a sigh and you can't help but grin. because even though he acts like it's an annoying request, the way his cock twitches lets you know that he thinks anything but that.

in a flash, he has you pinned beneath him and he's carefully slinking down your body, tossing your legs over his shoulders before absolutely devouring you.

he keeps his heated glare focused on your face when he dips his tongue down to your entrance, prodding at it until your hips jolt st the feeling. he ferociously suckles your clit, lapping at the bud and positively drooling all over your cunt.

you're a mess within seconds, squirming and crying out while you tug recklessly at his hair.

"oh! xiao!" you cry, not caring about how lewd you sound, "that feels so good! you're so good!"

"shut up," he snaps, but his cheeks flush red under your praise.

he doesn't give you a chance to tease him, however, because he's swallowing your swollen clit into his hot mouth again.

the sounds of him eating you out is wet and lewd, loud squelching and his heated gasps for air every time he needs breath.

he's diligent in the way he works you to orgasm, salivating at the mere prospect of having your sweet, creamy cum fill his mouth. his cock is throbbing, painfully hard but you requested him to eat you out and he was going to finish you before he even thought about his own selfish pleasure.

he moaned, a sympathetic sound that he had no control over, as your back arched, chanting that you were cumming and thanking him so prettily for getting you there.

he was on top of you in seconds, desperately sinking his cock into you. his reward for being so good to you.

! DILUC

you knew he was working, shut away behind the heavy wooden door scribbling away at his paperwork. he had been so busy lately, leaving the winery at the crack of dawn to go to town and coming back late at night to do some paperwork before crashing into bed while you were sound asleep.

you missed him more than you could articulate.

you missed his company, his voice, his touch.

you were frustrated, a heated ache settling in the core of your tummy as you imagined your handsome lover just next door. so close yet...he wasn't there with you.

you whined into your pillow, petulantly kicking your feet against the mattress as you tried to rationalize your needs to yourself.

was it fair to disturb him simply because you wanted him to touch you? what if he rejected you? you weren't sure if you could handle that embarrassment. but maybe you could convince him to take a break and indulge you a little bit!

you knocked a couple times upon his office door before opening it when he called for you to enter.

he was sitting in his chair, hair tied up in a messy high ponytail and his jacket discarded on the back of his chair, leaving him in the short sleeved shirt he wore beneath it.

you closed the door behind you and approached his desk, glancing down to see he was signing some papers.

"do you need something?" he asked, voice blunt but not unkind.

he sounded tired, maybe even a little bored.

"i just..." you feel your cheeks flush as you remember exactly why you were in here, "i just...wanted to check on you...?"

his pretty, red eyes flicked up, peering at you from under his heavy bangs, "is that all?"

diluc was far too perceptive for his own good. no matter how much you tried to hide your true intentions, he always managed to figure out what it is you wanted most.

"is something bothering you?" he asked, finally setting his pen down.

"n-not really..." you respond, fidgeting with one of the little knickknacks that sat on his desk.

he sat back in his chair, making it creak under the shift in weight, "come here."

you obediently round the desk until you come to stand right beside him. a single gloved hand winds around your waist, slipping under the back of your shirt to rub your back soothingly.

but really all it does it make you crave for him to touch you without the barrier there.

"you can tell me anything, you know that, right?" he asked, his concern more evident in the way he furrows his brows and frowns.

you whine, knowing you can't keep it in anymore.

"i-i just..." you flush and clear your throat, "w-will you eat me out?"

his eyes widen for a fraction of a second before a blush settles in his cheeks. but he doesn't even hesitate in pushing his chair back away from the desk and moving everything important out of the way.

"yeah, yeah, i can do that baby," he smiles, patting the empty spot on the desk, "been neglecting you lately, haven't i?"

"mhm," you whine as you settle into the spot made for you.

"i'm sorry, sweetheart," he coos, pushing the hem of the oversized shirt you stole from him up.

if he noticed how completely dripping wet you were, he didn't comment on it. instead, he just tugged your panties down and spread your legs.

the sight of your lover between your thighs had your heart racing.

"please, diluc," you beg so sweetly that it brings a smile to his face.

he dips down immediately, tongue sliding between your folds to find your clit. you keen, head faking back at the intoxicating feeling of him making you feel good after so long without it.

"oh!" you cry, hand tangling itself in his ponytail, tugging slightly to direct his tongue to the right spot you needed, "there!"

he grunted, eyes slipping closed before flicking his tongue over the sensitive little bud until you legs twitched over his shoulders.

"so good!" you cry, moaning unabashedly as your lover ate you out so well, "please, i'm so close!"

at that, he quickly sealed his lips over the bud, moaning when you harshly yank his hair. you topple over the edge embarrassingly soon, nothing but a trembling, twitchy mess on his expensive desk.

he releases your pulsing clit with a little pop and wipes his mouth with the back of his gloved hand.

"that was fast," he muses, grinning at the sight of you so messed up just from him suckling on your clit, "would you like more?"

"what about your work?" you whimper, letting him tug you to your feet.

"i can finish it later. let's go."

! ITTO

itto had a habit of being a tease. but it wasn't conscious he was just...touchy! his love language was physical touch. but unfortunately for you, you were always completely heart eyes for him that any measly touch from him had you skin setting ablaze.

a brief brush against your back as he scooted past you, cupping your hip when you reached to grab something high, lips against your neck in a display of fleeting affection — it all steadily got you to your breaking point.

the sight of your teary eyes had him jumping to his feet immediately. eyes wide and hands flailing desperately as he assessed your body for any injuries.

"what's wrong!?" he cried fretting desperately over you as you sniffle.

"itto...?" you whimper, "w-will you please eat me out?"

he freezes at your request, a thousand thoughts popping into his head.

"i-is that all?" he sighs, slumping against you, "i thought something was wrong!"

"you've been teasing me all day!" you whine, wrapping a trembling hand in his hair, forcing him to his knees. he easily let you, already feeling his cock twitching to life at the sight of you so desperate for him, "you've been mean!"

"ah...i didn't realize, little one," he coos, smoothing his hands up your thighs, talented fingers easily stripping your lower half, "i'll make it up to you just like you want."

the position wasn't ideal but he couldn't deny that having you over him, holding your shirt out of the way and staring down at him as he slowly licked your needy little cunt, was doing something to him.

his tongue swirled over your clit, long nails biting into your hips as he held your steady when you swayed at the pleasurable feeling of his hot mouth.

he was messy, letting your slick soak his face and letting his drool drip down onto the floor. but neither of you cared, all you cared about was using his tongue to get yourself off. and he was more than willing to offer it.

holding his tongue out, all you could see were the whites of his eyes as you ground against him. your clit was hard and pulsing as his slid along the wide expanse of his tongue.

you were so grateful for that oni tongue — it felt better than anything you could ever imagine.

startlingly soon, you were cumming. he held you steady, practically panting as he tongues your clit to help you though your high.

but if he thought you were done, he was sorely mistaken. because before your orgasm could even come to an end, you were resuming humping yourself against his face, crying and gasping as you overstimulated yourself into stupidity.

you were a dream after his own heart.

@xiax // do not modify or repost

#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #xiao smut #xiao x reader #diluc smut #diluc x reader #itto smut #itto x reader

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beanghostprincess · 1 month

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TW // Suicidal behavior/tendencies

The ASL brothers deal with suicidal tendencies constantly in different ways and I find it so interesting how little the three of them value their lives for completely different reasons.

Ace is obvious from the very beginning. He has been constantly told that he shouldn't have existed. That he should die. That he is not worthy of living. His whole identity was a secret from the rest of the world because if they knew, they would want him dead. But he knows already that people want him dead, so, whatever. He can't take love from others. And it is not he is actively trying to kill himself but he doesn't value his life at all. At least not until he meets Sabo and Luffy. And he still doesn't value his life much, but he realizes there are people who want him alive. And it is hard for him to believe it, but they do. Ace's journey is a tragedy because he keeps asking himself if he should be alive, constantly fighting against it because he genuinely thinks he shouldn't have existed, and then dying in the arms of his little brother and thanking him for loving him. And he dies because he is too proud and stubborn and it was just obvious that his recklessness would end up killing him somehow. It was not a conscious action but-- Ace knew he was dying that day. Which is extremely sad because he realized he wanted to live seconds before he was killed.

Sabo is just too focused on saving the world. He puts the greater good before him constantly because he quite literally has never known any better. He joined the revs with no memories and no purpose and only hatred for the ones with power. He was raised with love and friends there but-- There is only so much you can do in a place where they teach kids specific ideals and what they should do. And Sabo is happy there and more than glad to be of service, but he doesn't value his life at all. He constantly puts himself in danger, ever since he was a kid, to fight for others. And not even others as 'specific people' but just society and his ideals as a whole. Like he would rather die and kill if that spreads the revolution around. He genuinely doesn't care about dying if he is able to help the cause. I mean-- I think it does change when he meets Luffy again (he is canonically still reckless af okay this is self-indulgent) and realizes he can't let his brother lose him again. But still, he keeps on not valuing his life at all and acting without thinking things through.

Luffy is quite obvious, isn't it? It's not that he doesn't value his life, but he values his life around others. He is a person whose core need is to be with people. He was left alone at a very young age. Dragon left him with Garp and Garp, aside from being an awful role model, wasn't even there much and left the kid alone. The only role model he had was Shanks and he was going away constantly too. Uta basically disappeared from his life out of the blue without explanation. So when he finds Sabo and Ace it is normal that he gets heavily attached to them right away. When he is kidnapped and tortured he doesn't say a word about their treasure because he doesn't want to get in between their dream which-- Is another story. He values people's dreams even above his own life too. But there is also this layer of "If I break the promise of not telling people they will not want me" and it is just-- Pretty fucking sad. Like. Luffy's need to be around people and not lose the ones he loves comes from abandonment issues. Plain and crystal clear. He puts his life in danger constantly to not lose people and when he is alone he doesn't see any reason to keep going. He always finds something, of course, but being alone for him is quite obviously worse than death and he has had those types of thoughts/tendencies before. That is why I love the Baron Omatsuri movie so damn much. It is basically this whole thing.

Ace and Sabo are pretty similar when it comes to not valuing their lives and acting recklessly, but Ace is more on the 'I should not be alive' side of suicidal thoughts and Sabo is more on the 'I don't care if I die' side of self-destructive tendencies. While Luffy is on the 'There is no point in living if I am alone' side of abandonment issues.

I don't mean to go anywhere with this, btw. I just find it interesting how the three of them value their lives so little and end up forming a little family together. They found comfort and love in each other and I think their damaging tendencies keep existing because they are not together anymore. Like. Genuinely. In a Modern AU where the three of them are together their mental health would be so much better because of being next to each other. Ace would struggle with his self-worth but would be constantly reminded every day that he is loved, Sabo would overwork himself but they'd keep him from it being actually damaging, and Luffy would just not be alone at all.

#i could make a proper analysis? yes. but i don't want to so you have this mess #i think they deserve to live and be happy but the three of them are too mentally ill #they make me ill #i am too tired and i need to sleep but i love them so much it's insane #one piece #monkey d. luffy #revolutionary sabo #portgas d. ace #asl brothers

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ladyempty · 15 days

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Yan!Daemon Targaryen x Lady!Reader

° | !English is not my first language! |

° | This is a yandere work and may contain triggering behavior. I'm not in favor of that in real life. |

Power was Daemon's greatest motivation for living. The growing desire for more, eager to have more power, more influence, the pulsing, anesthetic adrenaline that clouded his mind making him act recklessly. Always living by emotion, almost never by reason.

Consequently, the Iron Throne and her parental rights were at the top of her list. Above anyone. It just felt right, he had helped Viserys rise to power, partly because he loved his brother, and partly because he liked being so close to the throne as Viserys' unofficial heir.

Daemon thought for years that having the throne for himself would be the greatest happiness he could achieve.

His teenage niece was key to his personal achievement. Of course, he thought Rhaenyra was beautiful, witty, passionate and fun. In addition to the burning desire that they both had along with the passion.

But nothing prepared him for the overwhelming, knockout feeling that would hit him with the speed of an arrow when he met you.

The moment the bright purple eyes of malice and mockery landed on his majestic figure, At the banquet organized to celebrate his niece's wedding, a burning fire rose through his body, infiltrating his bowels until it settled in his heart.

Daemon was not religious, he just believed, without much faith, in the Valerian gods. But upon seeing you, he was sure that a higher being sculpted you for his attention and temptation. Made for your eyes to analyze and admire.

From one minute to the next, the throne was a distant thought and Rhaenyra was just a momentary feeling, even superficial compared to what he felt so quickly and overwhelmingly for you.

He wanted you. Now. This instant. And Daemon had never been so happy and relieved to have gotten rid of his first wife as at that moment.

Yes, the first, because you would be the second.

The rogue Prince didn't like the color green, he abhorred the color with a fervent hatred, largely because of Otto, But he found the soft green dress you were wearing at the moment very pleasant. But a blood red dress would be even better.

His cunning eyes were fixed on you without any shame or shame. So intense and fun that he seems to see through your dress, undressing you in his thoughts far beyond simple clothes, he wanted to see beyond your soul.

And when Daemon Targaryen wanted something. He conquered. And not even his father's half-closed gaze could stop him, it just made him open a feline, predatory smile on his thin lips, a glimpse of his white teeth.

That same night, at that same banquet, Daemon decided to start pulling strings. As soon as the bride and groom's dance ended and the lords and ladies were able to gather in the center of the room to dance, Daemon was fast, moving carefully through the crowd of people, his eyes fixed on you as his calloused hand quickly snaked around your waist, pulling you close, almost against his chest, and smiled mockingly at the other lord. Saving the image of his face for a little visit later.

"Sorry, but I spotted it first." Daemon quickly pulled you away from the man, and didn't pay attention to any protests you might have while helping your body to dance.

After that, it didn't take long for the man's invasive procession.

The prince's intimidating presence was constant, almost a cunning shadow moving carefully until he found you, attracted like a magnet, starting conversations that were always more intimate than they should be, always deeper and with jokes and manners that were far from gentlemanly. Of course he had already investigated everything he could about you, but he liked it when you told him. His sweet voice softly entering your ears.

After the initial step, they saw the gifts, countless gifts with the intention of gaining favor and marking a territory that was no longer public. The countless red and black dresses,Valyrian steel pendants with heavy ruby stones, earrings and bracelets. All to mark you as a dragon and no longer a sheep. Just tell him what you want and he will gladly give it to you. And you can't ignore or reject their gifts.

The third step was to try to instill a certain fascination in you with ancient valyria. He will ascend to the heavens together with you holding tightly to his breastplate the moment he presented Caraxes to you. He would spend long hours talking about his victories and the superintendent of the Targaryens, after all they were closer to men than to the Gods. And would definitely smile broadly if you showed any interest. If you didn't seem intrigued or even upset, well, that's funny... Do you think you have choices?

Daemon is beyond possessive and jealous. This man is completely insane and has no hesitation in seriously harming or killing anyone he deems a threat. You are his. Why doesn't this get into other people's heads?

He doesn't want to lose you. Not that Daemon Targaryen thinks he can be replaced, but you know, they tried to attract or divert you from your path. And he won't allow it.

He wants you to trust him. Depending on him. He wants you to give yourself body and soul just to him.

And the wedding didn't take long to arrive. Don't you want to marry him? This is a shame because you will be his wife, have his heirs and be touched and admired only by his hands.

You should have already learned. You have no choice.

#yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #yandere x reader #yandere Daemon targaryen #Yandere Daemon Targaryen x Reader #Daemon targaryen #Daemon Targaryen x reader

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chubs-deuce · 1 month

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Part of why I ship Charlastor over Chaggie other than how one has more chemistry over the other, is that with Charlastor... I can literally see the building blocks for them to be a ship.

Like as Alastor helps Charlie with the Hotel and sees more of her, he would start to slowly fall for her. And it could also be that type of dynamic where they teach each other something.

Alastor teaches Charlie to embrace her power as the Princess of Hell and how to use it to it's full potential, while Charlie teaches him how to be a more decent person and let people in to help him.

Yessss

Though I have to admit that my favorite flavor of Charlastor is the one where Alastor doesn't even really change as a person, Charlie just becomes the sole exception to his personal rules and she embraces him completely for who he is 😩👌

Everything nice he does as a result would be exclusively for Charlie's benefit then if not for his own.

I also think it's a fun way to challenge Charlie's biased belief system of "everyone deserves a second chance and is capable of being better" by making her fall in love with someone who's an unapologetic, violent asshole to everyone but her but will behave if she asked it of him, who makes her feel loved, important and powerful like nobody else has ever managed to and has a genuine desire to help her in any way he can - including all of the immoral and fucked up ways.

I also love me some Alastor who's internally at war with himself - on one hand being in love with Charlie hasn't changed him as a person and she truly embraces him for all he is, but he still finds himself unable to ignore how she'd feel about certain actions and is desperate for her approval and attention, so she's still inadvertently influencing him and reduces the amount of violent urges he acts on by just being someone whose opinion he gives a shit about.

He both loves and hates it, she's his weakness and his greatest strength, his inspiration and muse and the bane of his fucking existence. He would move mountains, obliterate cities and fight god with his bare fucking hands for her if she asked him nicely, but she won't because she's a reasonable and sweet person who worries for his safety and wellbeing.

She's self-sacrificial and recklessly giving, but he's there to ground and catch her when she flies too close to the sun and will happily execute her will wherever she falls short.

In turn she keeps him sane, gives him something to genuinely want to fight for, someone to come home to without tying him down... She's love and light and goodness he never thought himself to be deserving of

Like. I know a lot of us will happily indulge in all the ways these two would be toxic for each other, but I also deeply adore their potential to be such a mutually beneficial, healthy relationship, much to the surprise of everyone at the hotel, including themselves!

#charlastor #radiobelle #anti chaggie #chubs answers

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cherry-leclerc · 1 month

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method acting ☆ cl16

genre: series, angst, yearning, reminiscent

word count: 3k

cherry here!...you guys, this is it! while i am sad to see it end, i am also so happy for those who tagged along and read this little mini series; i love you all. and so i ask: can i break your heart one last time?

ch. one ch. two ch. three ch. four ch. five ch. six

Chapter 6

Life, as you fear, is falling apart as you're confronted with a serious case of writer's block that puts your career on the line. As a solution, you're roommate helps you plan a solo trip to the Amalfi Coast for a much needed break but it doesn't take long for you to meet a certain Monegasque who lays passed out on the beach.

“I can explain!” you gasp, eyes frantically glazing over to where Charles messily packs his suitcase. “Please, just let me—”

“Sure.”

You come to a sudden halt, blink, and a single tear falls. The Monegasque smiles gently, though a red tint paints his cheeks from trying to not explode due to his fury.

Nothing but a squeak escapes, struggling to find the right words. You felt pathetic; like the worst person to ever walk earth because you were the worst person to ever walk earth. He almost wants to laugh and you can tell by how his lips tug upward in the slightest, and that itself makes you want to hurl over sobbing. This was all a joke to him, of course it was.

The brunette takes long strides over to where you stand in the kitchen, weakly leaning against a wooden chair to help your legs to not give out. You had been so surprised you were even able to run up to the house, clumsily twisting the knob and looking for him. He crunches down a bit, looking down at you with dark eyes, and grabs your face with his right hand. You wince.

“Let me make things easier for you; did you know who I was when we first met at the beach?”

“N-no. I swear to God that I did not know a single thing about you—”

“Did you ever truly enjoy my company as a friend?”

You breath hitches at him even considering the possibility that you never did, but he takes it the wrong way as his jaw clenches. “Of course I did! Charles, you’re the best thing that has—”

“And did your boss ask for you to write this article or was that all your idea?”

The light in his eyes have long dimmed, but your answer crushes the rest of his soul as you look down at his chest and then back at his stern glare. “It was all mine.”

It’s all a blur, and you’re sure you let out a yell when he disconnects from you and wipes his hand across the table, sending a singular plate flying before it roughly hits the floor and recklessly shatters. For a while, it’s complete silence; you can faintly hear the sound of crickets, the wind that sings, his ragged breath and your silent pleas. It’s both beautiful and ugly, all at the same time.

You’re sure to be careful and step around the porcelain dish, steadily making your way over to him. It kills you when he stumbles back as you inch closer; as if you were some type of toxin he knew best to stay away from. It took him a while, but he knew that now.

“The reason I came to the Amalfi Coast was to get away from work; the pressure, the—”

“You think you’re the only one?” he spits out sourly. “You’re not fucking special, we all have our own shit! Except some of us are decent human beings and don’t seek other people for our own benefit.” The twenty-six year old shakes his head. “Grow up.”

The room is spinning, and the walls are closing in on you, but you continue. “I never had the intention of hurting you and I swear I didn’t know who you were up until Nico. He mentioned enough for me to grow curious and that’s when I searched you up.” You release a shaky breath, chest tightening like a fist. “My parents never believed I could make a living out of journalism. No one did.”

Charles stands quietly, orbs tracing your breathless state. “I kept trying to be the best, but everyone was always five steps ahead of me, and I…” Returning your attention back up, you grimace, aware of what you’re about to confess. “And I thought having a Formula One driver as a friend might help get me there.”

When he doesn’t answer, it allows you to drown in an ocean of shame, finding it hard to face his guarded stare. As a way to pass time, you lick your salty lips, runny nose making you cringe.

“A-and then I got to know you.” Don’t do that, he warns coldly, but you push past it. The room is arctic almost, but you try to find strength and warmth in between the memories. “And for the first time in all my years of living, I felt at peace with someone who was my own reflection. You make it so easy; you’re kind, down to earth, funny in all senses, and you never fail to make my heart feel like it's going to fly out of my chest.” The rest of your words get stuck in your throat despite stupidly trying to say them out loud. Then again, he probably wouldn’t like it.

“At first I felt bad, but my hands were still able to move against my keypad; I was sure you would understand. But the more time we spent together and grew closer to one another, I knew that would never be the case. And my fingers felt stiff, they weren’t my own, but I had to do it—my job depended on it, Charles,” you whisper.

The Monegasque had never felt so conflicted in his life, not even when debating whether to resign with Ferrari. A part of him understood completely, and the other was torn. Okay, he murmurs, awkwardly pinching the tip of his nose and then releasing. “If you need this so badly, you could’ve been honest. I won’t be untruthful and say that I wouldn’t have been a bit thrown off, but not disappointed like I am now.” The blow punches a staggered breath out of you, fumbling back, dragging the chair along.

“That’s the thing though…you should have asked for permission,” he pressed, tone harsh, distant, venomous. “And yet you didn’t. You went behind my back, just like everybody else. I actually thought…” His voice cracks and he looks away, blinking rapidly as if pushing back his own tears. “God, I’ve been so stupid thinking you actually cared enough to get to know me.”

Somehow the ability to move re-enters your body, instantly drawing you closer but still giving him enough space. “I did—I do care. I care a lot. Because I’m like that—that is who I am! You’re it for me, Charles; I fucking care.” There. The words were right there once again, and yet you continue vowing anything but them. You’ve run out of breath, ran out of words, and you could only wish there was something there valuable enough for him to accept.

The brunette seems to understand your revelation, even if you think he doesn’t. It makes his heart palpitate as if he just ran a marathon and he hates it. He hates that it had to be this way. In some other dimension, he confesses first. He admits defeat because that’s how worthy you were to him. Because he loved you. And you loved him. But that’s somewhere else; somewhere far away—something far too unattainable.

“You’ve used everything against me, what more do you want?”

The waves must’ve heard your conversation because the once wild sound is now slow, gentle, soft. You almost wish they picked up for your own sake; to swallow the sound of your whimpers. “I told you about Lewis’ contract in confidence, but good for you—you’re the first one who will release the news, so, you got it. I’m sure everyone will congratulate you for that.”

“Drugs aren’t a joke, but did you really have to out me like that? It was my choice, sure, but did you even think about what will follow?” He scoffs. “You’ll get clicks, millions, but I’ll get looked down on by everyone around me. The media, my team, my fans.”

It hadn’t crossed your mind, God, why hadn’t it crossed your mind? You open your mouth and then snap it back shut. Charles runs a hand across his jaw. “But fuck, I don’t care about any of that—not as much as the pin.”

“Charles—”

“That was between you and me. My father was a clever man; a believer. I’m neither of those things, but I’ve tried my absolute best. And you’ve killed the last bit of it.” You suck in a breath; you can feel your eyes getting smaller, skin puffier. “Do you know how hard it is to have faith in yourself as a driver? It’s exhausting.” A beat. “But that golden horse was enough for me to keep going and now it’s tainted.”

There’s no more sounds flying past your lip, but the acid rain hasn’t slowed down, only intensified. “That’s the last thing I ever wanted to happen, Charles…I am so sorry.” Closing the gap in between you two, you thread your brows together softly. “If I could take it all back, I would. I would have never gotten an interview out of you without your knowledge, y-y-you have to believe me,” you plead. He only nods, green eyes flickering down to your rosy lips, then shut tight. When he opens them, it hurts, because you don’t recognize them anymore.

“You took it from me…But I would’ve given it to you.”

The atmosphere is something astonishing; the colorful fireworks, the deafening cheers, the cameras, the podium celebration—it truly took your breath away. And he deserved all of it.

It’d be half-witted to think he would agree to this; he had every right to turn you down. Rightfully so, he could have. He should have, you think to yourself as you nervously click your pen. You didn’t keep in touch after that summer, so it made perfect sense for you to think that he would look rather different.

But as he makes his way over, chatting with his PR manager, he looks just the same. Yes, he’s older; a bit more tired looking than the last time you saw him, much leaner, and his smiling crinkles have expanded like a beautiful sight. But he was still Charles to you.

“Congratulations,” you quip when he reaches you with a knowing look. Stuttering, you point over at the screen that replays his terrific race. “Y-y-you were incredible. World Champion, eh?” Complete silence. Can we get a minute to ourselves? The older lady hesitantly agrees, strolling away. You click faster, heart rate picking up as you watch her go.

The Monegasque licks his lips. “You showed up.”

Somewhere in the distance, you can hear fans screaming his name, the flashes shuttering brightly; you’re honestly impressed you were able to find a place to talk. “I said I would, no? I, um, also have this…” You extend your hand out towards him and his breath hitches,

Nothing would ever shine as bright as gold. His trophy is utter counterfeit compared to the prancing horse that winks back at him. His green eyes blink slowly for a while, almost as if he doesn’t recognize it, but that quickly dies as he reaches for it.

His simple touch grazes past you but it zaps you to the point where you jump up a bit, and he does too. The fireworks up in the open sky were doing a fantastic job at interpreting what you were feeling at that very moment. Charles clears his throat, orbs tracing his reward. His golden cup was great, but this?

“Thank you.” And it sounds so sincere that you almost release a cry. “I really appreciate you keeping your word. I know I didn’t keep mine.”

He hadn’t. But you understood. The wedding invitation had been sent to him and he never responded. He never showed up. You never figured out why you were so surprised, but you were. “You were busy. I get it.”

Tension lingers. “How’s work?”

Work was great; easier. You guess that's what happens when everyone finally applauds you. It took a lot of strength for you to publish the article, but you did it anyway. Do it, he mumbled that night as he walked out of your life for three years. Don’t let all of this be for nothing.

Running your sweaty palm against your dress, you hum. “I’m chief executive now.” The Monegasque lets out an impressed whistle and for the first time since you landed in Abu Dhabi, you smile. “Eleanor retired a while ago and apparently loves me now.”

“How could she not?” You grow stiff. “How is Grayson? I’m sure the wedding was great, by the way.”

His eyes flicker down at your ring and you beam. His heart breaks just a bit when your eyes stare down in adoration. “He’s amazing—he’s right over there, actually.” Your husband is far enough away, but he could still see it all. The little boy giggles up at his father and you laugh.

Charles smiles. “I’m happy for you. I really am.”

“Thank you. But tell me, champ; how do you feel? This shit doesn’t happen everyday, now does it?”

“A lot of work and patience, but it all worked out at the end. Which I’m glad because I was close to blowing my brains out.” You playfully pout, red lips curling into a familiar look.

“Still going to stick around?”

“A couple years or so…” His gaze shifts over at the rest of the grid who eye you two suspiciously. Even to them it was clear that there is history that will always remain. “I think I could do it.”

You tilt your head, hair falling over your shoulder. “I know you can, Cha.” The newly World Champion freezes and then shakes his head, avoiding your vibrant eyes. “Question,” you mumble.

“Ears,” he retorts, voice painted with humor.

“Do you ever…” You’re too embarrassed to finish your sentence, too afraid to face the possible answer. The Monegasque chuckles, a single hand over his heart and it takes you back to your last day with him in Italy where the weather was perfect.

“No regrets.”

His confirmation shouldn’t have been enough to reduce your forever heartbreak, but it manages enough. Releasing a weak exhale, you curiously peek over to where he retreats a gem. Your gem. The shiny pearl radiates, nearly making you blind, but it's new look is something that tugs at your heartstrings.

“Where did you…how did you?”

He shrugs, slipping it onto your ring finger; but on the right hand as the left now had an owner you loved back. “A friend of mine proposed to his girlfriend a while ago and I had it laying around and I just…” You blink with glossy eyes. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.” A wet laugh slips out, hugging him like a blanket. You chew on your bottom lip. “I’m so happy you kept it safe; thank you so much.” He blushes, large hands brushing his damp hair back. “You know, sometimes…sometimes I think about you.” His name is mentioned on the large screen, but he’s not concerned by any means. Green eyes are focused on you; they always have been. “It’s mainly in the shape of a nightmare, but hey…” He winces. You continue. “It’s not your fault though, I brought it upon myself. I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

“You shouldn’t have.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “But don’t worry about it anymore; I forgive you.”

You can’t help but throw your arms over his shoulders. You don’t even care how sweaty he is, you don’t at all. You’ve kissed him twice in your life, but this had to be the best interaction you’ve had. You didn’t deserve it—you were well aware—but he had always been kind. Even to people like you.

Hot tears slide against his red fireproofs and he doesn’t dare pull away. Your sweet scent was still the same, but more mature. Your body was just as he remembered, but he could feel the small belly forming; you’re someone's home. He swears he feels a kick and his heart stops. Alas, you pull away with a rosy nose and swollen eyes. You giggle, wiping your teardrops.

“I think about you all the time, too.” He fiddles with his fingers. “But mine aren’t nightmares; they’re dreams.” A heave leaves you, pursing your lips. “They’re blurry, but they’re my favorite. In them, you didn’t step all over my heart. In them, you’re mine. And in them, I’m yours.” The pearl glistens harder. “And in them, I tell the truth that’s stuck with me from the moment you stepped foot on stage, rusty microphone in hand.”

He must think you’re having a breakdown by the way you crazily stare at him, but you’re not. You practice the shape of his nose, his lips, his brows. You admire his freckles, his watercolor eyes. Since when did they have a pinch of gray?

Charles takes a step towards you, but gets caught by the gate that separates you both. It’s up to his hips and he curses for it even being there. But then again; it was a sign. You must realize that too when you sigh sadly, delicate hands tracing the cold metal. “I loved you then.” A beat. “And I love you now.”

A sob is all heard as your face disappears, pressed against your hands, hiding. They grow louder and everyone must assume he made the pretty journalist cry or maybe it was her pregnancy. Maybe it was both. Separating to look up at him, you smile melancholic. “Do I even have to tell you too?”

“You don’t have to,” he clarifies. “Because I know.”

The feeling was bittersweet; it was more than that, but you would survive. Everything will forever stay in the Amalfi Coast, and you will cherish it all.

The Monegasque knocked out on the beach. The bar. Nico. The AirBnB. The love. The heartbreak.

Both ends were content. You would never truly get over that last summer, but you had others to care for now. He would never truly heal, but for now his job kept him busy. You were both at your prime. Just not together.

Clicking your pen, you nudge your notebook with a weak smile.

“Charles Leclerc, first time World Champion…Can I have an interview with you?”

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