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nanaslutt · 4 months

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call me baby

pairing: choso x reader

contains: fem reader, pussy rubbing, panty-fucking, cream pie, dirty talk, sensitive!Choso

note: someone sent an ask for this w/ gojo or geto… but i couldn’t stop thinking abt it w/ choso…

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"What should I do?" You asked Choso quietly as he slid his large thighs under yours, gripping the fat of your thighs to pull you closer to him so his erect cock was pressed right against your clothed cunt, only clad in your panties, which had started to become sheer where your hole was pressed against it from how much you were leaking.

"Just... lay there and don't move, let me do all the work," Choso said, a blush spread across his porcelain face as his eyes stayed trained on your cunt which pulsed and throbbed under his gaze. "The girl in the video sounded like this felt good for her, let me know otherwise please." He added, his eyes flitting up to yours so he could see you nod in acknowledgment at his words.

Once Choso saw you nod, he dropped his gaze back down to your cunt. He grabbed the base of his dripping cock in one hand and pressed it against your clothed cunt, rubbing the head of his leaky dick up and down your pussy. Your stomach clenched each time he rubbed the fat tip against your clit, the stimulation making your toes curl.

Choso kept looking up at your expression to gauge whether or not this was feeling good for you. He licked his lips as he watched you stare where the two of you were connected with a slack jaw, your lips making a pretty o shape as you stared at his thick cock rubbing against you.

"I can feel how wet you are through your panties, it's so cute," Choso mumbled, his voice coming out less confident than he would've liked. You swallowed hard, feeling your face suddenly grow hotter at his words. "You're dripping too y'know... that's not all me." You said, your face screwing in pleasure when he pressed his fat tip harder against you, pushing it right under your clit.

Choso blushed deeper, his cock twitching at your words. "You're right, I just like doing this with you so much." He said honestly, giving himself a couple of quick strokes along his shaft to calm himself down. You smiled at that, your hand reaching down to place itself over his, which gripped your upper thigh in support. "I like doing this with you too Cho." You replied, tilting your head at him.

Choso moved his hand down his cock so he was gripping his length about halfway. He pressed his cock against your clit and started thrusting against you, wetting the already wet spot there even more. He used his hand like a pocket pussy as he thrust into it, making sure each time he thrust forward against you that his head was pressing right against your clit.

"Does that feel good?" Choso asked, his eyes looking up to your face for approval. You gasped and whined quietly each time his bulbous head pressed against your clit, stimulating it just right. "Y-yeah, keep going, Cho." You nodded, retracting your hand from his to join the other and slide underneath your shirt to massage your tits.

Choso pouted at your blissful expression as he took in your words, all the while he kept rubbing his cock along your pussy, further wetting your panties and making them almost completely sheer. "Good." Choso nodded back, swallowing whatever saliva was in his dry mouth before he looked back down to your cunt. Choso then pulled your sticky panties away from your pussy, revealing a sliver of your bare folds to his greedy eyes before he slipped his cock against you and covered his tip with your panties.

He testingly rubbed his cock along your wet folds, the head of his cock brushing past your clit and poking through your panties right above it, the pink material of your panties that was covering his cock making it look so cute. "So warm..." Choso whispered, choked gasped and moans falling from his lips as he slowly thrust his cock back and forth along your pussy, letting the folds of your cunt hug the underside of his dick.

He placed both of his hands on your thighs and pelvis, his hands almost forming a triangle in the middle as he used his thumbs to press his cock against your pussy, letting him pick up his pace now that he had his cock secured by his thumbs to make sure the head of his cock would rub your stiff bud no matter how fast he went.

"C-choso-" You gasped, a little louder now as he rubbed against you with more vigor. You squeezed your tits under your shirt, your lithe fingers playing with the stiff nipples for extra stimulation as your body shook and slid along the bed with each thrust. "Let me see." He said vaguely, his eyebrows furrowing as he fucked his cock against your pussy. You tilted your head at him, confused at what he was referring to.

"Y-you're playing with your chest. I want to see, can I?" Choso elaborated, his honest words making you feel hot all over. You nodded before releasing your breasts, your hand slipping out under the shirt to push it over your chest, the fabric bundling by your collarbones as your tits were revealed to his greedy eyes.

"So pretty, touch them again, I wanna watch you touch them," Choso begged, his words coming out more desperate the longer he rubbed his cock against your folds. This felt so much better than he expected. The man in the video was silent so he wasn't sure how good it would feel for him but now that he was actually doing it, he had no idea how he stayed so quiet. Choso was a gasping and groaning mess, much unlike the man in the video--his cock was always quite sensitive though.

Obeying his wish, you grabbed your tits once more, massaging them in your hands as you alternated between pinching your nipples and squeezing the fat of them together. Choso's brain nearly short-circuited as he watched the fat of your tits squish between your fingers--he wished so badly he was the one touching them instead. "God, they're so pretty, I love your tits." Choso groaned, his thrusts against your cunt becoming more erratic, making your body jerk forward from the intense stimulation.

"F-fuck, t-thank you, baby." You whined, your hips absentmindedly bucking against his. Choso felt all of the blood run to his cock at the nickname, he swore his heart skipped a beat. "B-baby?" Choso repeated, his eyes flitting between your cunt, which was now meeting his thrusts, and your face, which was screwed in pleasure from his doing.

"Yeah, I called you baby, is that okay?" You asked, smiling at the way he pouted when you repeated the pet name. Choso nodded, his lips pressing together and folding in on themselves as his head tipped back, revealing the muscles in his neck. "I-I think it's going to make me cum." Choso groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as his head was tipped back.

"A-ah- what is?" You asked through a moan when the two of you fell into the perfect pace, your hips humping upwards each time he thrust against you, his leaky head rubbing your clit perfectly. "That name, I like when you call me that." He answered, his chin falling back down as his eyes locked onto your cunt and your hips that were eagerly meeting his thrusts as you worked yourselves towards your orgasms.

"You're so cute Choso." You smiled, the expression quickly getting wiped off your face as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, your orgasm building steadily in your pelvis. "I-it's not just that. You're so warm, and wet, and your face is so cute when my dick touches you right here." Choso said, emphasizing his words with a stronger thrust against your clit.

"And you sound s-so cute, y-you're gonna make me cum." He said, his thrusts losing their rhythm. You were whining at his words, your eyes fluttering back in your head as you let his wet cock work you over perfectly. Your hands squeezed your tits harder to stabilize yourself as you felt yourself right on the edge of your orgasm. Everything was so slippery, the wetness between the two of you had completely ruined your panties, and they were soaked through from your fluids.

"G-god Choso, I-i'm close." You whined, your eyes fluttering back in your head as your head tipped back against the sheets, rolling around as you braced yourself for such an intense orgasm. "M-me too, fuck me too." He chimed in as he forced his eyes to stay forward in their sockets so he wouldn't miss a thing, he needed to see your face when you came.

"I-inside baby, cum inside please, I need it." You begged as something came over you last second. You think you might die if he didn't fill you up right now. Choso's dick twitched at the name, he wanted to ask if you were sure but the use of the pet name shortened the time before he was about to cum in half, so he trusted your words as he heard them.

"O-okay, shit, I'm gonna cum inside you." Choso groaned, his head nodding rapidly at your words. He pressed his thumbs down against his cock, the appendage sliding down your cunt and finding your entrance as it slipped in with ease, thanks to how wet the both of you were. Choso's thumb replaced his cock as he rubbed small circles over it as he quickly started a sloppy pace and fucked into your heat with reckless abandon, his tip hitting your g-spot with every thrust and effectively pushing you over the edge.

Your hand shot down to the sides of your body as your fingers gripped the sheets tightly. Choso watched as your eyes screwed shut and your mouth fell open in a silent scream before you were spasming all over his cock. "Shit- so tight-" he moaned as he felt your walls squeeze around him ten times tighter as you came.

You looked so cute, your face screwed in pleasure, your body jerking uncontrollably, the feeling of your cum dripping out around his cock that was plugging you up. Your moans were like music to his ears, his cock pulsed with the need for his release before he was stilling inside you, his thumb still working sloppily over your clit as he continued to work you through your orgasm as he came.

"Cumming- fuck- c-cumming-" Choso groaned as he released rope after rope into your already sopping wet cunt. You whined in oversensitivity as he continued to roll his hips against yours, fucking you full of his cum. The veins in Choso's neck bulged out as he came with such intensity, his cock throbbing as he filled you to the brim with his seed. "Fuck, thank you, baby, thank you." You whined weakly, gasping against the sheets as Choso rode out the last waves of his orgasm inside your cunt, letting your walls milk him of all he was worth.

Choso flopped forward, keeping his softening cock inside you as he laid all of his body weight on top of you. You groaned dramatically as he semi-crushed you with the weight of his very muscly body, but the feeling of the warmth from his skin seeping into yours prevented you from saying anything. Your hands reached up to wrap around his back, your nails softly scratching along his soft skin as he groaned into your neck in appreciation, trying to recover after such an intense orgasm.

"Was that okay for you..." Choso had the audacity to ask as he buried his head in your neck, his warm breath tickling the skin of your neck when he spoke. "That was perfect Choso, you always make me feel so good," you said, holding back a giggle as you continued raking your nails over his skin. "We should probably clean up soon though." You added after a couple of seconds.

"Five more minutes... this feels good," Choso mumbled, his words almost coming out incoherent from the sleepiness in his voice. Choso's love for the simplicity of things like back scratching filled you with so much love you wanted to explode. You knew 5 minutes would turn into 2 hours, but you couldn't find yourself to care much when you heard him start to practically purr into your neck.

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso #choso x y/n #kamo choso #choso x you #choso x reader #choso kamo #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso smut #choso my beloved #choso x female reader

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ff2-soda-pop · 1 year

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having. bad moment today alright-

#everything in class was too overwhelming to the point i couldnt even talk anymore and i couldnt leave and i didnt wanna stim because then #people would See Me and stuff so i just sat there suffering with that.#and then ig we're preparing for Finals but i barely have understood this whole class because it goes Too Fast for me and im scared im gonna #fail and i cant fail otherwise im gonna get the help w/ the financial stuff taken away and thats basically gonna screw me over big time but #idk what im doing!! and then the teacher said things about like 'oh if you say you're not taking this again next semester i'll take off #points' BUT IDK IF SHE WAS SERIOUS OR NOT?????? like shes generally pretty nice but like i cant tell if she was kidding or not at all but i #dont wanna ask because no one else seemed confused by it and i dont wanna stick out so i just. am confused #also im scared if i fail this class my mom'll get pissed because shes very insistent that i am the 'normal' one and so i 'have' to go to #school ad basically live life like a Normal Allistic Person which. is bullshit but thats besides the point #and my only class rn is japanese which until now ive been consistently GOOD at so if i fail that my mom'll probably get Extra pissed at me #for it because of that. also trying to ask for help hasnt worked so good so far because i tried and the teachers like 'you're doing fine!#dont worry about it :D' and im like 'i have barely understood anything for weeks on end but idk how to argue you on this and it feels rude #to try and be like No Actually Wrong' so then i just. dont say anything #also i still have no accommodations because i still havent gotten copies of papers i need and they wont let me do anything until i have #those copies of things from older schools before i went here. EVEN THOUGH IM LITERALLY DIAGNOSED AND AM STRUGGLING BUT APPARENTLY PAPERS #FROM OLD SCHOOLS ARE THE ONLY THING THAT CAN 'PROVE' I NEED HELP???? WHICH MAKES NO SENSE TO ME BUT ANYWAYS-#anyways everything is too much and i wanna curl up in a ball and just kinda stay like that forever #vent

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angelltheninth · 3 months

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Leon S. Kennedy Gets Tired of Dancing Around His Feelings for You

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, fluff, kissing, friends to lovers, confession, sexual tension, quickie, possible pregnancy

A/N: Back on Leon! I mean back writing Leon. But... also wouldn't mind being on him.

Fed up!Leon is very on edge when he goes on a mission with you. You're avoiding his eyes, asking his assistance, avoiding him all together for some reason. He does know the reason actually, it was that kiss you shared with him when you were so happy that he was alive. Ever since then you've been awkward around him.

Fed up!Leon tries to get things back to normal but it's getting more and more difficult to pretend that everything is fine. It's not fine that you can't talk to him for more then a few minutes. And it's definitely not fine that you're on his mind so much that you're the only woman he's been able to jack off to for weeks.

Fed up!Leon goes to the shooting range more and more often lately. He needs to focus on something other then you, and the missions with you. Otherwise he will lose his mind. And of course you were at the range at the same time as he was. Fate always loved screwing him.

Fed up!Leon pushes though the heat of the gun barrel as he moves it down and gets into your face, demanding that you talk to him already. He won't let you get out of here until you do. You look at him too, and during missions it's dangerous. You need to settle this, for your safety and of those around you. That was the excuse he was going with and he will stick with it.

Fed up!Leon kisses you to shut you up when you keep insisting that there's nothing wrong. You're in denial of your own feelings but can you really ignore them when he is right here, giving you, showing you that same love that you wanted for so long? No you can't. You have to kiss him back.

Fed up!Leon pushes you up on a desk and pushes away all the bullets and guns to the side. He doesn't want to waste time anymore, he wants to be yours and for you to be his, he wants to be one with you. Both your pants are down around your ankles by the time his lips leave yours, he wants to hear those whimpers he's been fantasizing about.

Fed up!Leon knows you don't have much time before the next group arrives for shooting practice but he can argue that he's shooting too. He doesn't have the patience to wait until your time is up now that you've kissed him back and are looking at him with so much lust.

Fed up!Leon thrusts his cock into you with so much urgency that you can barely keep up. Your pussy barely has time to tighten before it's pushed open again, his hard cock making you dizzy with how good it feels, your pussy making him dizzy, making him confess to every time he wished he could have fucked you like this and backed away instead.

Fed up!Leon didn't think ahead enough to put on a condom and because of that knows he should pull out but then he would ruin your uniform. Can't do that, then people would know about you taking your relationship to the next level. There would be no end to the teasing you'd both be subjected to.

Fed up!Leon will make sure to take responsibility if you end up pregnant. He's the one who wasn't thinking, but then again you did put him in a leglock. Maybe you were just as sick of dancing around your feelings as he was? He hopes that's the case and if you don't end up pregnant and he becomes baby daddy then he would at least hope that he can become your new boyfriend

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy #leon kennedy headcanons #leon x f!reader #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil x female reader

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bobbinlacebliss · 1 year

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Finished project: Rosemary

I was scrolling through my own blog today (as one does) and realized I never did a proper round-up post for Rosemary. So this is a bit of a retrospective I suppose! Click through for my notes on the project if you're interested - otherwise, I hope you like the pictures!

This is certainly one of my favorite pieces that I've done. I think it really turned out beautifully! But, it also stands out in my mind for having a foul, foul, truly foul number of broken threads that had to be replaced in the middle of the work. I think at least 6? The ideal number of course being zero. At the time, this sucked. I had no idea what I was doing - you can see in one of the pictures that I was referencing three different books at one point trying to figure out how the heck to fix the dang things. But in hindsight, it was valuable experience! I got a lot of practice splicing in new threads, and I also stopped being so afraid of it happening. (Though of course one still likes to avoid it...)

I am not sure why so many threads decided to part company with their fellows, but I have some theories. I'm fairly sure it's not because of putting too much tension on the thread, because it didn't snap under pressure so much as just kinda fray and drift apart. My prime suspect is the bobbins - something about this style of bobbin makes it really hard (for me, at least) to prevent them rolling wildly all over the pillow during the work, which runs the risk of untwisting the thread. This is very sad for me because I love these bobbins. But I haven't given up hope that I can still make them work. They seem to roll less on my box pillow, so maybe they can just be reserved for that pillow. Also, I'm on that "it was a bad batch of thread" copium 😅

This was also the first time I tried mounting the finished lace onto fabric, which I was very worried about screwing up but it wound up not being so bad! Sewing is definitely not my strong suit, but I got through it and am pleased with the result.

Technical Notes

Pattern: "Rosemary" from A Visual Introduction to Bucks Point Lace by Geraldine Stott

Thread: Egyptian cotton 80/2 in bright white

Gimps: 8 ply of the base thread

Pins: .5 mm pins for the picots and motifs; .8mm pins for the ground and footside

Picots: 5 twists

Started: September 14, 2020

Completed: August 11, 2021

(If you've made it this far and you somehow haven't heard enough about this project, you can check out the "rosemary" tag on my blog to see my other posts about it.)

#bobbin lace #bucks point #rosemary #finished project

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xo-cod · 7 months

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someone asked for it but the ask got deleted so here it is again :)

bodyguard!simon x popstar!reader

absolutely hated you in the beginning. only tolerated you because price had given him this responsibility and because the pay was decent. otherwise he was just a shadow with one worded responses and grunts towards whatever you said.

used to manhandle you whenever you used to walk slow, pulling you along with a tut and a roll of his eyes. you couldn't really see his face since he still wore his balaclava but his face was definitely screwed up behind it

the loud cheering becomes jarring to him the first few times, he's not used to this environment and there's been a few times where his hands have sprung to his gun ready to unload hell onto a poor excited fan who wanted a signature

but the more time he spends with you, the more he warms up around you. he even knew time brought you on base for when he needed to grab something quickly and you ended up meeting his team members

gaz and soap are basically #1 fans fr. the fact that you're friends with their favourite musicians makes them fanboy, your life is so exciting and they always want to know the latest gossip.

simon watches on unamused but secretly feeling a certain way when he sees you speaking happily with his friends

the dances you have with your backup dancers make simon so jealous ‼️‼️ the way your hips sway with theirs, the way their hands are across your waist, the tight outfits, god he has to physically restrain himself from ravishing you

he watches on with his jaw clenched, body rigid as his eyes feast upon your body like treasure. even through the thousands and thousands of people there, you'll always feel the burning of his eyes on you

and when your eyes meet him on a special part of a song, he's literally entranced by you. his breath held and he feels vulnerable, despite the millions of people there. when you're singing to him, it's to him

his praise to you is usually a nod of his head and a "good" but the more you both grow closer, the more you notice how touchy he can become and the more praise that falls from his lips (though it still can sound a little cold only because he feels awkward and doesn't think you need his reassurance that you're doing a good job)

"wear this pretty number f'me" when you both become super close, he likes it when you wear his favourite outfits. he'll hand them to you offering no explanation, only that it looks really good on you. secretly admiring you on stage when it glimmers and shimmers against the light because you look so beautiful

secretly has a few pictures on you on stage where you look so beautiful, he can't help but flick through them at the dead of night when he's alone.

will also secretly heart and save the videos on a private account of all the fan edits of you and him (a cliche but i like them 🤭)

will definitely notice the little skulls you have dangling from your outfit/jewellery and he smiles to himself, it's like an easter egg no one could guess

begged him to make an insta and after much reluctance and pleading he finally did.

he gained followers very quickly, his dm's full of people wanting to thirst over him to his workout routine

but you're the only one he follows <3

yes, he's also fallen victim to stalking your page and looking at old boyfriend with a smug and annoyed look

you got papped one time with the initials SR♡ on your necklace and it went crazy popular. everyone trying to figure who the mystery person was.

but simon looks on in pride, he might be called ghost to everyone else but between you both he'll always be your simon riley. a secret no one could know <3

cue soap and gaz screeching at the paparazzi pictures, having called on the whole thing when ghost was assigned to you in the first place

#simon riley #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x y/n #ghost x y/n #bodyguard!simon #bodyguard!ghost #bodyguard!simon x reader #bodyguard!simon riley #bodyguard!simon riley x reader fluff #simon riley x reader fluff

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queers-gambit · 2 months

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Blue Bunny

prompt: you and the Twins show up to collect the same debt.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 4.4k+

warnings: Tan's real name being Aaron, Lemon's real name being Brian, Mafia antics, depiction of murder, blood, guns, brief physical violence, given nickname, Daddy's Girl trope? dialogue heavy fic.

"I like the lilac, what do you think? Maybe the yellow?"

"The pink's rather nice."

"How's about green? For St. Patrick's Day? Celebration of spring?"

Your lover chuckled over the receiver, phone set on speaker to the desk in front of you. "Think I prefer the blue," he replied, the smirk evident.

"You always prefer blue," you teased, handing the bottle of pale blue nail polish to your nail tech. "So, tell me, where are you now? Haven't seen yah all week," You pouted, placing your AirPods in to keep the conversation private. Not like it mattered, your nail tech, Collette, only spoke French, and she was the only other person in the room.

"'Fraid I can't divulge that information, sweetheart," Aaron sighed, "on a bit of business right now."

"Now? Like, in the present?" You chuckled, nodding at Collette when she pointed at the length of the acrylic.

"Yeah," Tan mused back, "say hello, sweetheart!"

"Hello, luv!" Brian, or otherwise known as Lemon, was heard calling. His twin, your lover, used the codename Tangerine for the contract agency they worked for - keeping their identities safe. Something you didn't necessarily have to worry about, being as your name held power. It was something like a shield in the criminal world, everyone knowing your surname dictated fear.

"Oh, hello, my sweetness," you cooed, grinning slyly. "What's it you two are up to? What sort of business are you on?"

"Ah, hang on a tick, love," Aaron mused, setting his phone down. You waited patiently, hearing a series of gunshots ringing out as you watched Collette paint the pale blue in sleek, professional strokes. Screams echoed over the line, tires screeches, several grunts of exertion, but you didn't so much as flinch, just admiring the work your nail tech did.

You blew on your nails, admiring the color.

Collette asked if you wanted to keep the paint shiny or add a matte overcoat, you humming, replying in French that you preferred the shiny coat. She held up a bottle of silver glitter, perking her brows, watching you nod - trusting her artistic eye.

"Hello? Still there, Bunny?" Aaron got back on the line, using your pet name he bestowed on you after your first date. You had a cold coming on, and after he kissed you, you instantly sneezed - nose screwing up like a fluffy bunny.

"I'm here," you smiled.

"Right, what color did you go with?"

You grinned, "Take a guess."

"Blue's your color."

"More like yours. I much prefer pastels, but I think this color's the best of both our preferences."

He chuckled, "Listen, yeah? You free Thursday? I'l be in your neck of the woods."

"Ah, I'm traveling this week," you answered with a pout, "what about next week?"

"I might be able t'swing that, yeah," Aaron agreed easily. "You hear from that Edward bloke recently?"

"No, no, I've told you, I'm done with him. You're quite the jealous type, you know, scared him off real good."

"Ah, well, don't like folks touchin' what's mine, now, do I?"

"Apparently not," you smiled, phone line beeping with an incoming call. "Oh, shit, I gotta go, Aaron, Daddy's calling."

"Mhm, and we all know you betta answer, huh?"

"It's how we all stay alive," you laughed. "Bye."

"See yah real soon, Bunny. Make sure your toes match!"

You hung up with a laugh, then accepted your father's incoming call, "Hi, Daddy."

"Hello, sweet one," he answered. "What are you up to?"

"Collette's doing my nails."

"Ah, very good. What color?"

"A pretty pale blue."

"Wonderful. Tell Collette I say hello. We'll have t'get her a sensational Christmas bonus with the way you work her."

You chuckled, "Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Listen, poppet, I need you to do something for me."

"Mhm, anything you need, Daddy."

"One of our associates is late on payment."

"How late?"

"A week."

"Oh, you're taking time in collecting," you mused, appreciating the full set Collette was detailing. "What's the hold up? Why wait?"

"I'm stuck in Prague."

"Daddy."

"I know," he rushed, "but I need you on this one, princess."

"Who's the associate?"

"Fella name Wilmer DeLano."

"I know of him, doesn't he own the chain of pharmacies? His son and I went to university together, right?"

"The exact same," your father confirmed. "I need you to go collect, princess, please."

"How much is the debt?"

"With the added week, chalks it up to $3 million."

"US dollars?"

"Yeah."

"Since when do we deal in US dollars?" You asked with a curled lip.

"Not the question I think you want to be asking."

"Uh, no, you're right, okay, sure, I can collect. Tonight?"

"He's not expecting it, knows I'm still in Prague. Take Rufus and Gunther with you for protection detail."

"I'd rather take Samuel."

"No, he's doing a different favor for me."

"Daddy."

"He's making a delivery, all right?"

"What about Gunther and Casey? Rufus creeps me out."

"That's fine," your father agreed with a sigh. "Listen, princess, tonight might get a little hairy, so I want you prepared."

"Daddy, I'm literally getting my nails done, I'm not handling a gun. That's what Gunther's for."

"I taught you better than that. You protect yourself, you can't depend on anyone else."

You nodded, "Yes, sir. Do you wanna call the boys or...?"

"I'll call them, don't worry. Just be ready to go by 8. Remember, princess, $3 million - and make sure you count it, too."

You agreed, promising you loved him, then wishing him luck in Prague on whatever his business was. After hanging up, Collette smiled, asking in French, "When are you going to tell him?"

"Tell him what?"

"That you have a boyfriend," she laughed. "He's your father, he'll be happy for you."

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"Oh, please," she scoffed, swiping the glitter on your nails. "That boy that you're always on the phone with? You're not hiding it, not from me."

You felt warmth flush your chest, heating your core. "He's still not my boyfriend," you mumbled stubbornly.

"He picks your nail colors," she grinned, "that's a boyfriend!"

You double checked the address your father sent, nodding at Gunther in the driver's seat. "All right, lads, I want this a clean collection. Just got my nails done," you smirked, the lights of the three-story home still on and indicating DeLano must've been home.

"Yes, ma'am," Casey agreed, getting out of the backseat and opening your passenger door; helping you out, letting you readjust your clingy black dress. Gunther moved around the back of the car, grabbing the usual go-bag brought to every collection.

Slowly, carefully, you stalked up the long driveway, heels clacking with every pace. You let Gunther peer through the windows, him nodding before leading the way to the backdoor. It was simple enough to jimmy the lock open, silently swinging the door wide open and stepping over the threshold.

Casey went around the side to enter through the living room as you walked through the kitchen, surrounding your target. Wilmer DeLano was sat at his dining room table with his wife, looking up when you cleared your throat. He jolted in shock, but Casey blocked the only other doorway; his gun in hand, both clasped in front of him.

Gunther checked the rest of the house.

"Hello, Mr. DeLano," you greeted casually. "Oh, something smells wonderful in here, you cook this?" You asked his wife, casually strolling up to the table, Red Bottoms sounding over the polish hardwood floors. You plucked up a slice of roast, tearing a bite off and humming, "Oh, very good that. You're a lucky man, Mr. DeLano to have such a talented wife."

"Who are you?" The portly woman begged, flinching when you hummed and brandished your gun.

"Right, guessing you don't know," you nodded. "Your husband's in a bit of a lucrative business, Missus. Nice house, though," you gazed around, "lot of fine art you've got hung up, saw all name-brand appliances in your kitchen."

"H-He owns a chain of drug stores - "

"Yes, yes, yes, I know. Very true," you agreed, "but that's only a front, it's not the full picture. I'm here to help illustrate, if you will. C'mon, why don't we all go into the living room? Hear that's where the safe is kept."

"What is happening!?" Mrs. DeLano demanded, gun pointed at her temple.

"Up, up," you demanded.

Slowly, Wilmer lifted from his seat with his hands held in peace, "Okay, okay, we can - let's go talk in the living room. Just don't threaten my wife, she's got nothing t'do with this."

"For now," you agreed, gathering the couple to the living room couch.

"Boss," Gunther alerted, dragging your old university classmate and a previous lover, Edward DeLano, up from the basement, "found this one down there, smoking a joint. Rest of the house is clear."

"Wonderful," you nodded, gesturing for Eddie to sit. "You bring enough to share with the class?" But your old peer just looked around the room of criminals. "Guessin' he didn't wanna share," you pouted, then rolling your eyes. "Well, now that we've all gathered - "

Suddenly, there was a noisy crack and bang as the front door was kicked in, making all three of you gangsters turn with weapons drawn and aimed. However, you chuckled and dropped your arm when you realized it was the Twins, Aaron and Brian, or Tangerine and Lemon, standing in the splintered doorway.

"At ease, lads," you chuckled, holstering your gun to your thigh. "These are friends of mine."

"You outsourced the job? Out your fuckin' mind, princess? Huh?" Casey growled, not lowering his gun as Tan and Lem strolled in.

"Don't fuckin' talk to her like that," Aaron snapped instantly.

"Fuck off, Casey, I would never outsource, I know the fucking rules," you sound more amused than anything.

"Well, ain't this fun?" Aaron mused with a grin, strolling in casually before pausing in the open foyer as Brian tried shutting the door again - but it the very doorframe was shattered, making it impossible. "Sorry 'bout the front door, ol' chap, but you understand, yeah? 'S just business," He nodded at DeLano. "Bunny," he smirked at you, hands in his tailored suit pants pockets; polished Italian leather shoes gently scoffing across the floor.

Aaron magnetized to your side, coiling his arm around your waist to lean in and peck your cheek.

"Hi, handsome. Thought you weren't in town until later?"

"We wrapped a different job early," he answered. "Question is: what're you doin' here, love?"

"Collecting debt payment."

"No shit," he grinned, "so are we."

Your head cocked; leaning into his side with your own arm wrapping around his chiseled waist. You asked, "He owes my father money. You?"

"Owes an associate, too." He smirked at the DeLano's you two stood in front of, "Ain't that right, geezer? Got yourself into a bit of a pickle, didn't yah? Got a bit of a problem with the nose candy, don't'cha, naughty boy?"

"You told me you quit!" Mrs. DeLano hissed, "now you're in debt!?"

"I have it under control," Wilmer deflected stiffly.

His wife sobbed and begged, "W-Would someone please just explain what's going on!? Who are you people!?" Tears fell fast. "What do you want from us!?"

"This ain't rocket science, love, fuck you mean what do we want?" Lemon snickered. "You not listenin' or something?"

"Ah, right, well, I was in the middle of explainin' the situation," you told the Twins, waving a manicured hand in the air as if swatting away a pesky fly. "'Ello, lovie," you grinned at Lemon when he stationed himself on your other side, "good t'see you."

"Sweetheart," he nodded, offering a side hug when you released his brother, "been too long, hasn't it?"

"Since Cancún," you agreed. "Right, then! Onward, ho! Casey, darlin', would you be a doll and open the bag? Get us set up t'count up?"

"'Course, boss," he agreed, kneeling at the mahogany coffee table and unzipping the duffel you brought.

"Right," your hands clapped, the family jumping at the sudden sound, "back to what I was sayin'. See, your husband owns the drug stores, that's true," you allotted, "but he also launders money for the Mafia. For my father, my family. Maybe you've heard of him?"

You relaid your father's first and last name, seeing the Fear of God paint over the DeLano's. "What?" Eddie snapped at his father sat beside him. See, despite dating briefly, you kept your identity a secret from Ed. "What have you done!? Do you know who her father is? Know what he's done!? He fuckin' gutted his own brother - "

"Allegedly," you interjected sharply.

" - all in the name of business! You don't know what this family is capable of!"

"Yes, boy, I'm well aware, the man is my bloody business partner," Wilmer snapped right back.

"Well, not so much of a partner now, are yah? Just more of a fuckin' nuisance," You smirked, earning the attention again. "So, you see, your husband washes our money, earns a significant cut for shouldering the risk. Payment's collected every two weeks and as of today, your husband's a week late on delivering our cash load."

"I-I can explain, please - "

"No need," you cut Wilmer off, "because I didn't get t'where I am now by listening to pathetic explanations. I don't listen to excuses. Fact is, you own my father money, and because you're late, the total is now $3 million - and he wants it in US dollars."

"Well, ain't that somethin'?" Tan smirked at Lem. "Turns out, he owes our client some million, too."

You hummed, nodding, "Right, right, but see, thing is, if my Daddy ain't paid, he goes postal. Nasty business, truly messy, just a chaotic clusterfuck, bodies left everywhere, cities in shambles." Turning back to the family, you offered, "So, we're just gonna make this easy. You cough up what you owe, we won't blow your brains out all over this nice Persian rug. Mmmh! See that, love?" You pointed to the fabric you stood on, looking at Aaron. "That's real authentic, you can tell by the threading. Be a shame to ruin it, yeah? Exquisite work."

"Sure is," he agreed, "but did you see up there, Bunny? 'Bove the mantel?"

"Oh, yes," you breathed in impression, "an ancient Aztec tribal mask. An artifact, very hard to get your hands on. Heard the British Museum was actually lookin' for that particular mask."

"Seems like Mr. DeLano is quite the collector of finer things," Lemon admired, pointing at a portrait on the wall. "Oi! Is that what I think? Is that a fucking Monet?"

"Priceless," you nodded.

"Listen, right, we've got strict orders, yeah?" Your lover sighed, shifting his weight. "We're t'collect payment by any means, a message is t'be sent. Right?"

"That's right, yeah," Lemon agreed, crossing his arms. "Make sure this kinda misunderstanding don't happen again."

Gunther asked, "You need tarps for this?"

You refused, "No, we're not here to kill anyone. We're here to let a loyal man the opportunity to pay us what's owed."

"Listen t-t-to me," Wilmer begged, stuttering in fear, "I don't have the money. Okay? The government came sniffin', I had tax liens to pay off to avoid prison time - "

"More fuckin' excuses! Jesus, fuck, man!" You groaned. "Who do you think can do more damage - the bloody government or my family? Huh? Look, lad, I know you've got what we're owed, so, be a good li'l boy and open the safe. Huh?"

"Fucking do it, Dad!"

"What're you doing, Wilmer? What are you waiting for!? You can't play this game! You'll get us all killed!"

"I don't have the money! How can I pay with what I don't have!?"

"Why do I not believe that?" You mused to Tan.

"'Cause you've been in this business a helluva lot longer than he has," Tangerine / Aaron answered. "You know a rat when you smell one, I reckon."

You nodded, then pulled your gun out again, aiming, and firing at Eddie's knee to shatter his kneecap. Blood splattered onto the couch. He screamed in agony, you raging above the panicked cries and shocked shouts, "Do I have your fucking attention now, Mr. DeLano?"

Edward sobbed in pain, trying to staunch the bleeding, Mrs. Delano gasping and shrieking. "Do whatever they want, Wilmer! For fuck's sake! Just do it!"

"Listen to your wife, mate," Lemon advised. "Unhappy wife, unhappy life, innit?"

You aimed at Eddie's other knee, firing, causing another flurry of screaming, crying, and begging. "If you want your son t'only have two bullets in 'im, I suggest you get moving!" You barked, aiming at Wilmer. "Now!"

"Well, wait a tick," Tangerine halted, "if we're both on the job, how's it gonna look if the geezer's telling us the truth, hey? Who gets the money?"

"Let's find it first, darlin', distribute later," you breathed as Casey finished setting up the automatic money counter. "Mr. DeLano? I advise you to do what we're asking. See, I use to duck hunt - I'm an excellent shot. The next bullet's goin' in your son's head and I never miss. Now, where's the fucking money!?"

"I don't have it! Please!"

"The money, DeLano, where's the fucking money!?"

"Please - "

"You want a dead son!?"

"All right!" He sobbed, "All right, fine! Yes, you win! Just please, please! Don't hurt my family anymore! Please, just leave them alone! I'll do what you want, just - leave them out of this!"

You nodded, "Well, you fucked with my Daddy's money. Only right I cripple you in a sense. Hey? Now, chop chop," you checked your watch for the time, "I'm a very busy bee and don't have all night."

"You're a smart lad, DeLano, we know you would've wanted to prep for a comfy fall if it came to it," Lemon laughed easily from beside you. "Ain't no way you're bone dry, know you have money stashed for security. Just c'mon, mate, these two sickos consider this a sort of foreplay, they'll go all fuckin' night with yah if you continue to refuse," he gestured at you and Tan.

You tacked on, "Lotta places to shoot someone without killin' 'em. Just saying..."

Wilmer stood from the couch, his wife shooting across the newly vacated space to embrace her whimpering son. The money launderer approached the Monet painting and lifted it from the wall; revealing an iron safe. You shared a look with Tangerine, smirking as the combination was entered and the door opening.

"That's what we fuckin' thought," Tangerine sneered, seeing the stacks and stacks and stacks of money. " Fuckin' hell. Right, so, look, count up the lady first. We'll settle after," he sniffed, fluffing his suit's lapel, picking off a piece of lint.

Wilmer began handing stacks to Casey to count, one of your arms crossing over your stomach to prop up your other arm; hand limp in the air. "Faster," you demanded, the man sweating bullets.

"Oh, now, look at that," Tan mused, taking your hand to admire your fresh manicure, "you went with blue."

"Like it?"

"Looks real pretty, Bunny, but I know something these would look better wrapped around," he grinned, making you smack his stomach playfully. "You wanna go get drinks afta this? My treat."

"Sounds like a date," you accepted, Gunther storing the counted cash into the dark duffel. "How's it lookin', Casey?"

"Looks 'bout right, boss," he reported, handing over another stack of banded money. "You want me t'count the Twins up?"

"Oh, if you would please, darlin', it would be very helpful," you nodded. "But I'm having a thought, right? Stay with me, would yah?"

"Oh, go on, toots, you've got great ideas," Lemon encouraged with a chuckle.

"Not always," Casey snickered, "remember what happened in Texas? At that Western bar?"

"Oi, the electronic bull was not my fault!"

"But the incident with the tequila and donkey was!"

"Hush!" You scolded. "Listen, all right, you see, this fucker tried to stiff us all... Let's clear the safe out. Take away any safety net? Truly cripple him, set him back to nothing?"

"Sound like your father," Gunther chuckled.

"That's a compliment," you shot back. "Go on, I want the lot."

Gunther agreed, standing, and approaching the safe. He shoved Wilmer out of the way, sweeping his arm into the safe and starting to load up the duffel. "You can't do this! If you take it all, what are we supposed to do!? How is my family supposed to survive when leeches like you suck us dry!?" Wilmer barked, making the amusement drop from your face.

"Watch your tone."

"No! No, I will not! You think you're high and mighty because of your father, but you're just a spoilt little girl! You all break into my house, extort me - "

"Can you truly extort a criminal? For the money they owe other criminals?" Brian / Lemon wondered out loud as he meandered the living room, making you shrug.

"He likes playing victim," you mused, but in the time you looked over your shoulder, Wilmer charged. You gasped when his shoulder bullied into your gut, tackling you past Tangerine and into the coffee table, shattering it.

"GO! RUN!" He shouted at his family, Tangerine lunging instantly to wrangle him off of you; the breath knocked from your lungs.

"Got some fuckin' nerve, don't yah!? Touchin' my girl!?" He raged, throwing the man to the floor again. "Nobody fuckin' moves!" Aaron growled, gun pointed at Wilmer.

"Not like they can, two blown out knees," Brian grunted as he helped pick you up from the wreck.

"Yeh all right, Bunny?"

"All right, love, yeah," you answered and adjusted your dress, picking up your weapon as Tan began wailing his balled-up fist into Wilmer's face at a jackhammering pace. It was wildly attractive, watching the man you were in-love with beat the shit out of someone who offered you threat and harm. Then something caught your eye, gasping, "Oh, you rat bastard! You broke my fucking nail!"

You yanked Tan back; aiming at Wilmer, pulling the trigger to let a close-range bullet explode the man's head; leaking brain matter on the Persian carpet. You turned to Mrs. DeLano and Eddie, cocking your head as they begged and pleaded for their lives, but you weren't listening anymore. "Got it all, boss," Gunther informed, dropping the stuffed duffel. "What we doin' with them?"

"Exactly what my father would do," you decided. "No witnesses."

"PLEASE! NO, GOD! NO, DON'T, PLEASE! WE WON'T SAY ANYTHING, I SWEAR! I SWEAR! PLEASE! MERCY! MERCY MERCY!"

Three more gunshots sounded, Tangerine's gun smoking before being tucked back into his shoulder holster under his jacket. "Well," he fluffed his lapels again, sniffling harshly, "shall we be on our way, Bunny? We good here?"

"Oh, might as well - got what we needed," you agreed, grimacing when blood bloomed towards your expensive shoes. "Ugh, what a mess. I'll make a call, have this cleaned up, pose it as a murder-suicide," you side-stepped the puddle. "Gunther, Casey, take what you want from this place, get the cash back to the stash house. I'm gonna grab a drink with the lads," you smirked, looping your arm with Aaron's.

Lemon / Brian packed up their share of the money, following behind as Tangerine / Aaron lead you from the house; placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting the end, inhaling, tossing his free arm around your neck. The night was dark and brisk, refreshing on your clammy skin as you stabilized your breathing; always a little shaken after taking life.

Call it morality.

Once in their tinted Mercedes, Brian got in the backseat, Tan rolled his window down to smoke, and you pulled out your ringing cell phone to answer, "Hi, Daddy."

He breathed in relief, "Good, you answered. Means nothing bad happened."

"That's not entirely true," you admitted. "We're leaving now."

"What happened?"

You winced, brushes already forming, "DeLano got bold, he attacked. So we left no witnesses."

"Good girl," he praised. "You feel all right?"

"Yeah, I'm good. I'm actually going to drinks with some, uh, friends," you glanced at Tangerine - seeing his lips pulled in a smirk as he started the car and pulled off down the street. "Turns out, DeLano didn't just owe us, but some coke dealer, too. Right, love?" You checked.

"Right," Aaron confirmed, reaching over to plant his hand on your thigh and give a soft squeeze.

"Right, yeah, so, he tried lying 'bout money, I shot his son's kneecaps - "

"That's my girl!"

" - and cleared the safe out. That's when DeLano attacked me - "

"WHAT!?"

"Daddy," you reprimanded softly. "I'm okay. Actually, the hired contractors on the job saved my arse - they showed up after we did with the same agenda. Gunther and Casey are gonna take the cash to a stash house, I gotta call Mr. Brooks about cleaning up."

"Did you say contractors?"

"Yeah, uh, you know, from The Agency?"

"You mean hitmen?"

"Yeah, guess you could say that. Think they're more like contract killers? Verbiage is so fickle."

"Who? Who exactly was there?"

"The Twins, Daddy. Don't worry, they're absolutely charming, only took their payment. We're gonna go for drinks, yeah?"

"Huh," he grunted, "must've been some bigwig t'send them two. Or a considerable debt." You were about to reply when he gasped in realization, "Wait, no. No, no, hang on a tick, don't bloody tell me."

"What?"

"This the lad you've got a thing for, innit? The one that sends yah flowers every other week?"

"Daddy."

"Don't tell me it's that Tangerine fucker, princess, please!"

"Oh, no, look at that, we're heading into a tunnel! I'm gonna lose the call; talk tomorrow, be safe, good luck in Prague, okay, muah! Muah! Muah! Love you! Bye, bye, bye!" You rambled quickly, blowing air kisses, then hanging up swiftly.

"The hell was that about?" Aaron chuckled. "He mad we were there?"

"Not entirely."

"Was he mad you're gettin' drinks with us?" Brian laughed from the back.

"That's a little more accurate. Well," you winced, "he was a bit testy that I'm goin' with Aaron..."

"I haven't done a damn thing to him," he grumbled.

"You do have a bit of a reputation, bruv."

You smiled sweetly, gripping Aaron's hand on your thigh, "He's my father, 'course he's gonna worry."

"'Bout time he found out, keeping you two a secret was mad frustrating, yeah? You two are disgustingly in-love."

Tangerine squeezed your thigh again, sending you a bright grin, "That we are."

requesting rules and masterlist

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ultravioletrayz · 2 months

Note

hello, darling!!

i absolutely love your work and how you write and i was wondering if you could write something for miguel inspired by the song million dollar man by lana del rey? it could be something like him being reader's sugar daddy and taking them to trips and shopping sprees. I'd love it if it had some smut to it but that's up you!!

thank you!!

A miguel ask based on lana? Nonnie, I’m in love 😩 (18+)

"You're screwed up and brilliant... Look like a million dollar man... So why is my heart broke?"

You had thought that being with a man of such status, a man with sophistication flooding out of his deep pockets, would make such degenerate acts a thing of the past. You're 'dating' the CEO of Alchemax, a certain level of refinement should have been expected.

But not with Miguel.

Miguel has money and power, sure, but he's dangerous. He's tainted. He's flawed.

Only you, his princess, get to see those flaws of an otherwise suave man. One of which being his inability to resist your seemingly innocent charms. Something about your naivety turned Miguel into a needy man, hellbent on satisfying you with his lavish lifestyle and fat cock, while you cling to him like the pretty little trophy you are.

Tonight is no different.

The noise of people chatting coming from outside the sleek bathroom of the fancy restaurant Miguel had brought you to is filtered out by your muffled cries into the calloused palm of Miguel's hand clasped over your mouth, smearing the Dior lip gloss you bought with his card last week.

Miguel's eyes constantly dart back and forth between the clasp of the Tiffany necklace that decorates your neck, and the way your ass ripples with the force of each of his thrusts, the bottom of your little black designer dress flipped up to give Miguel a good view of the way your perfect body greedily sucks his cock inside.

Everything acts as a constant reminder that, despite your relationship being hard to define, there is no price Miguel isn't willing to pay to get you to remain loyal. To remain his.

It's almost unbelievable, the fact that even though Miguel sees you as the most radiant exotic flower, he still makes it abundantly clear that you're at his mercy by fucking you in the cramped toilet stall of a 5-star restaurant.

You whimper and sob, Miguel's girth splitting you open as your forehead lulls against the wall, making Miguel chuckle.

"This is all part of the deal, muñequita. I get to grab you and take you anywhere I like. If you don't like it, then it's no more special presents for you. ¿Entiendes?"

I tried to incorporate as many lyrics as I could into this ;)

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golden-cherry · 10 months

Text

deal - cl16 (10/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: It's dinner time. Time to find new friends, since your roommate decides to treat you like shit.

Warnings: fluff, angst (whoops), asshole!Charles, alcohol consumption, Google translated French, swear words

Word Count: 3.9k

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A/N: a podium part! grande, Charlie! feedback is appreciated

Charles' mood has deteriorated quite a bit between his lunch and his return.

Funny, easy-going Charles, who would have loved to drive to dinner with you in potato sacks, is now sitting next to you in the Renault and the silence is deafening. Not a word does he say, but at least he's not crushing the leather of the steering wheel with his hands like yesterday. He doesn't just sit there like a statue, but in every now and then he rubs his forehead, runs his hand through his hair, or twists the rings on his long fingers.

The fact that he looks and behaves like a real person and not a sculpture calms you down a bit, but the stress is still clearly visible in his face. At least he looks more approachable, like you could talk to him. Like he needs someone to talk to about what happened.

Determined to get him out of his foul mood, you turn in his direction on the seat so you can look at him properly. "You want to talk about it?"

Your roommate clenches his jaws even tighter and exhales loudly, as if annoyed by your question. Good start to a conversation. "About what?" He stares ahead, propping his elbow against the car door as he steers the vehicle with his right hand.

You furrow your eyebrows. "About whatever is going on inside you right now."

He gives a short laugh, but it sounds spiteful and not at all like the Charles you know. "It's none of your business."

So at this point you've both arrived again, how nice. Your gaze moves from his eyes, to his nose, to his mouth, and you try to read his expression, but find only irritation and displeasure. Finally, you lower your gaze to your hands folded in your lap. "At least pull yourself together for your friends. Otherwise you'll screw up everyone's evening with your bad mood," it slips out of you.

"I won't."

He knows that you know that something is wrong. And if he wanted to talk about it, he would have answered differently than so snippy and irritated, so annoyed. But apparently he'd rather sit grimly next to you and take out his frustration on you, which would be fine with you if you knew the reason.

You can't help him if you don't know what it's about, and you'd love to grab Charles by the shoulders and shake him until he comes clean. But you're afraid he's not one to be talked down to or pushed into something he doesn't want to do, so you let it go at that. If he wants to talk, he knows where to find you.

You don't know the restaurant Charles stops the car in front of, but it looks beautiful from the outside with the ivy vines winding around lamps and awnings. Some of the tables inside are occupied and even from the car you can tell that the food on the plates looks delicious.

As you unbuckle your seatbelt and reach for the door handle, your roommate doesn't move a bit. "You go on in. I'll park the car and catch up with you." He doesn't even look at you, but clenches his jaw and waits for you to exit the car. So you just nod at him and get out.

You're about to ask him what name the table is reserved in, when he leans over the center console and closes the passenger door from the inside before sitting down normally and speeding off, disappearing around the next corner. He leaves you on the side of the road, and the wintry evening wind swirls around you so coldly that you can't be mad at him, but enter the restaurant directly, where you stop at the hostess's counter.

"Bonsoir," she greets you with a friendly smile, typing away briefly on the iPad in her hand. "Avez-vous réservé une table?" good evening. have you reserved a table?

In your mind, you give Charles a pat on the back of the head. Couldn't he have waited a moment longer?

Behind you, the glass door opens and other guests enter the restaurant. You press your lips together. "Bonsoir. Une table est réverée, mais je ne sais pa à quel nom," you try to say in your best French, and apparently the hostess even understands you. good evening. a table is reserved, I just don't know what name.

The friendly hostess opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, a slender hand rests on your shoulder. "Je crois qu'elle est avec nous." I think she's with us. Confused, you turn around and look into giant brown eyes. "Y/N, right?" The woman in front of you is so beautiful that you can only nod mutely. Smiling, she takes her hand off your shoulder and looks at the hostess. "La table est réservée au nom Gasly." the table is reserved in the name of gasly.

Behind her stands a young man with one hand resting loosely on her hip. He smiles at you as he notices your puzzled look. "We're Charles' friends. I'm Pierre and this is-"

"Kika," the brunette grins, interlocking her arm with yours, "nice to meet you. Where's Charles?" she asks as the three of you follow the hostess who takes you to a long, set table. There are individual chairs on one side, with padded booths across from them.

You shrug your shoulders. "He's parking the car. I should go in already."

"Ah." Pierre pulls one of the chairs back so Kika can sit down - a gentleman, that is - but she just shakes her head.

"Girls belong on the booths, Pierre," she says, and before you know it, you're sitting side by side at one end of the table. "So, Charles said you're a photographer?"

Charles. English pronunciation. Somehow it sounds strange, so out of place for the Monegasque. The fact that his friends pronounce his name so differently unsettles you, as does the fact that he seems to have been talking about you to his friends. But if Charles's friends call him Charles and not Scharl, then it must be right, no?

You nod. "Right."

Kika picks up her purse and sets it next to her on the bench. "How cool! So where do you work?"

Before you can answer - you wouldn't even know what exactly, to be honest - Charles pops up behind Pierre, who's sitting across from Kika. "What are you talking about?" He puts both hands on his friend's shoulders and squeezes them briefly before standing next to him at the table and leaning over.

"We're talking shit about you," Kika jokes, also leaning over the table so that the two of them can kiss each other on the cheek. In contrast to just now, he actually seems changed, just like yesterday when you went to Joris. It's almost creepy how well he can mask his feelings.

"Doesn't surprise me," your roommate replies with a smile and sits down on the free chair facing you. But he doesn't acknowledge you at all.

Is he ignoring you? Did you do something wrong during the time he wasn't home that he doesn't pay attention to you now? Or is he angry because you just gave him a piece of your mind? If it's the latter, then he can go to hell.

But maybe it's the former. Maybe you shouldn't have written him while he was gone. Just picked out clothes, got ready, and waited for him. Maybe you misjudged the friendship.

You make yourself smaller next to Kika, almost invisible, and watch as more and more people join the small group. They all introduce themselves briefly, but you immediately forget their names as they sit down. The seat next to you remains empty, for which you are somewhat grateful. But the fact that the person you know best here gives you the cold shoulder makes you feel uneasy -

- and suddenly you are ten years old again, in the back seat of your father's car, trying to breathe shallowly so as not to provoke a sudden choleric fit in him.

You avert your eyes from the people and study the menu, on which the actually not-so-expensive dishes are written, so you don't even notice how someone else joins the group until your name comes up.

"Y/N?"

You look up and see the blue eyes of your helpful stranger from this afternoon. This time, however, he is wearing a white shirt, which greatly accentuates his tanned skin, the top two buttons are undone despite the weather, and light-colored pants hang from his hips. On his head, instead of a cap, are now brown curls that hang a bit in his forehead.

You'd be lying if you said he wasn't incredibly handsome. And as you look at him, his smile widens.

The feeling from just now has fizzled out as you stand up and walk towards him. As you face each other, he spreads his arms, wraps them around your middle, and squeezes your body tightly against him. "I didn't think we'd meet again so soon." His arms are so long that his hands are on your sides while you have your arms around his neck. You're so close you can breathe in his scent.

"Is this a good thing or a bad thing?" you ask him as you pull away from each other, but his hands remain on your hips. He looks down at you.

"You two know each other?"

You turn around, feeling Lando's hands slide off you, and behind you stands Charles, who looks at you with a look you can't interpret. Apparently you're talking to each other again.

Uncertainly, you look from him to Lando. "Yes. We met at the grocery store this afternoon."

"She was shopping for her roommate," Lando continues, then points to Charles, who smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "So you're the roommate, I guess?" He looks back at you and smiles. "I knew Charles had a roommate, but I didn't know she was that beautiful."

"And bam, there went my hunger," Kika calls out to you, rolling his eyes playfully.

Embarrassed, you look back to Lando, whose gaze is already on you. "Shall we?"

To your amazement, Lando sits down in the empty seat next to you and not with his friends. He pulls your menu over a bit, even though his own is right in front of him, and scoots a bit closer to you so you can browse the dishes together.

"So," he finally says, leaning back. "I'm afraid I can't find any canned soup."

You nudge him with your shoulder. "I'll eat something else, too."

"There's no BigMac on here, either."

Before you can shove him off the bench, Charles interjects. "Canned soup? BigMac?"

Lando nods. "We found out today at the supermarket that Y/N's culinary journey ended somewhere between canned soup and BigMac." He points his index finger at a spot on the menu. "Ah, look. Kids' plate, with fries and chicken nuggets. How about it?"

You roll your eyes. "I think I'll order the carbonara."

"Ohhhh. Are we venturing out of our comfort zone?"

"Shut up, you dumbass," you say, playfully annoyed, and are glad to see the waitress come to the table shortly after, taking both drink and food orders. You ignore Charles' cold stare.

Kika taps you on the thigh. "You two know each other already, too?" She points to you and Lando, who has risen briefly to greet someone at the other end of the table.

"Since noon today, to be exact." The waitress puts the drinks on the table. Coke for Kika and you, and a beer each for the three guys sitting with you. "I went shopping and couldn't find some things. He was kind enough to help me find them."

"You didn't tell me that." Charles tone is as cold as his gaze. You would have preferred him not to talk to you at all. You don't like this Charles. Not at all.

You don't know what you've done that he can be so friendly and lighthearted toward others, but act completely idiotic toward you. But you definitely don't let that happen to you. "I had to go to another supermarket because ours doesn't have some of the things you wanted." You raise an eyebrow and shrug. "Lando helped me find the sesame seeds and chili flakes."

"That's very kind of him." Charles's expression is impenetrable, but anyone who knows Charles even a little can pick out the underlying sarcasm.

You smile at him sugary sweet. "Yeah, right? He even walked me home and carried the bag."

Kika, whose gaze bounces back and forth between you like a tennis match, is glad Charles doesn't respond, just rolls his eyes. "And you two have only been living together for two days, right? What's it like having a roommate?"

Your gaze wanders to Charles, expecting a snarky comment or whatever he would come up with to put you down right now. But the opposite is true. His previously serious expression softens, his shoulders don't seem so tense anymore, and the little smile around his mouth makes your heart skip a beat, even though he was acting pretty out of line until just now. He's looking at you - really looking at you. This is Charles right here. Your Charles.

"Y/N Is the best roommate you could ever ask for," he replies, and you feel the blood rush to your cheeks. "She's kind, considerate, and so funny. I couldn't ask for a better one."

You're definitely still going to talk about what's happened so far this evening, and you're definitely going to throw words back in his face about how dare he ignore you for half the evening. But right now, you're too relieved that Charles is Charles again that you can't even be mad.

Kika pokes you in the side. "So what's Charles like?"

"Charles," you begin, but don't quite know how to answer. Charles is so much more than your roommate. He's your savior in times of need. Your confidant. Your friend. He's that warm feeling that spreads through you when you're together.

Charles is everything.

When you say his name, he barely noticeably screws up his face.

"You can go ahead and say he's an asshole," Pierre grins, catching Charles' fist directly as he gently punches him in the shoulder.

"Does he leave his dirty socks everywhere? We were all on vacation together once and you couldn't enter his hotel room without stepping on his dirty laundry," comes Max, sitting next to Pierre and thankfully far enough away that he only gets a nasty look.

"Or does he take too long to style his hair? Ouch!" Kika rubs his shin and gives Charles a venomous look. "What? You take longer in the bathroom than I do in some cases!"

"You're all soooooo funny." Your roommate leans back in his chair and clasps his hands behind his head. The sleeves of his shirt stretch across his muscles. He winks at you. "I'm the very best roommate."

You take a sip of Coke and look at him over the rim of your glass, grinning. "The jury's still out."

Several waiters bring the food and the conversation takes its course. The carbonara tastes delicious and the conversation between Kika, Charles, Lando, Pierre and Max changes topics so frequently that you can't keep up with questions and laughter. In the meantime, Kika asks for your number "so you can talk to someone other than Charles" and you are infinitely grateful to have found a friend in her.

The small group you are in seems like a small family and as much as they include you in everything, you feel like a part of it. A feeling that is foreign to you, but doesn't feel strange.

You knew that Charles must have such great friends. But you didn't expect them to accept you directly as part of their group.

The plates are getting emptier, the conversations are getting louder, and people are changing their seats to be able to talk to others. Charles has gotten up to sit down three seats away, but not before asking you if it's okay if he leaves you alone for a moment, whereupon Kika has wrapped her slender arm around your shoulder, saying, "Don't worry, Charles. Y/N is in good hands with me".

In between, he still gives you glances as if to ask if everything is okay, to which you just smile and nod.

"So, was the carbonara better than canned soup?" Lando takes a sip of his beer.

"Nothing comes close to my favorite canned soup," you joke, "but I have to admit, I didn't know pasta could taste so great."

The Brit laughs up. "I saw that. All that was missing was you licking the plate."

You cross your arms in front of your chest and act offended. "Would it have surprised you?"

"Definitely not." He slips his tongue into his cheek, which is much more attractive than it should be. "So, about dinner-"

From across the table, someone calls his name and you notice him hesitate to get up, but the guys wave him over energetically.

Lando looks at you. "Is it okay if I just-"

You wave him off and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's all good. Go ahead and see your friends. It's definitely not the last time we'll talk."

He reaches for your hand on his shoulder and presses a fleeting kiss to its knuckles before standing up. He doesn't let go of your hand until the distance between you grows too far. "See you in a bit."

Before you can realize what just happened, Kika catches your attention by scooting close to you. "What was that about?"

Your gaze lingers on Lando, who slaps his buddy on the shoulder and then sits down on a free chair there. He glances back at you and winks before turning to his friends. "I have no idea."

As you turn toward Kika, Charles catches your gaze. Despite the dim lighting in the restaurant, you can see that his cheeks are flushed, almost certainly due to the beer. His smile is warm and infectious, and as you smile back he stands up and makes his way over to you.

As he plops down in the seat next to you, he's still smiling. "Hi."

"Hi yourself."

Your roommate bites his lower lip and nervously twirls the rings on his fingers, and you wish you could have grabbed his hands and intertwined your fingers with his. But even though everything seems to be fine between you again, you have a relatively poor grasp on him, which is why you let it go.

"Listen," he begins, turning his whole body to face you, "I'm sorry I was so shitty to you." He looks down at your hands. "You - you were so understanding and kind and you just wanted to help and I treated you like crap. And you definitely didn't deserve that." When he looks you in the eye again, his gaze is soft and there's something sparkling in his green eyes that makes him look so young you melt.

Pull yourself together.

"It's okay," you reply, taking a sip of your Coke to wash down the lump in your throat.

"It's not. I don't know what got into me, but my behavior wasn't okay." He takes a deep breath, as if he needs to buy time to think about his next words. "I, um, was with my ex and-"

"Charles," you interrupt him gently, and he barely flinches. But you're so close that, of course, you can't miss it. "You don't have to tell me if you're not ready for it. You don't have to tell me at all if you don't want to. But if you're ever that mean to me again and don't give me a reason, I'll kill you in your sleep."

Charles smile turns into a grin. "Then I guess I'll sleep with one eye open now." He takes a big swig of his beer. A drop of it escapes his lips and runs out of the corner of his mouth toward his chin. When he catches it with his tongue, you have to look away for a moment. "I wasn't lying, by the way. You're actually the best roommate anyone could ever ask for."

"Stop it."

"I'm serious." He puts his beer down and looks at you. "We've known each other for two days - two days - but somehow I feel like we've known each other forever, you know what I mean?" You can only nod in response. "And I've never had that feeling with anyone." He takes a deep breath. "And I also think I can tell you everything, which is why I really need to tell you that I-"

"Charles!" The guy the roommates had been talking to until recently sits down in the vacant chair across from you. "I heard about Annika, by the way. I'm really sorry."

In all your life, you've never witnessed how quickly the mood can turn.

The easy-going Charles, the warm, friendly Charles, is gone as quickly as a shooting star. His body is tense to bursting, his fingers are clawing at his pants, and his jaws are clenched so tight you fear he's breaking his teeth. He doesn't even breathe.

Is Annika his ex? The one he was probably with today? Is that why he was in a bad mood?

He doesn't breathe, for a minute he hasn't taken a breath, just stares ahead, through the guy who apparently realized his choice of subject was absolute shit. Charles isn't present, as if he's on another star. Like he's short-circuiting. But by God, the man needs to breathe before he turns blue.

Without giving it much thought, you press your knee against his. You're so focused on helping him that you ignore the heat of his skin burning through the layers of fabric, and the goosebumps spreading all over your body, and the closeness you've never felt with anyone before, even though there are two pairs of jeans between you. You focus only on him, on making him breathe again.

Until he pulls his knee away. Like you've burned him, electrocuted him. As if you had crossed a line. And for a moment your heart stops because you think you've done everything wrong.

But then he presses his knee against yours again, more than that, he moves a little closer to you, so that not only your knees but also your thighs touch. Fire spreads through your veins even though your skin isn't even touching, but just being near him, this familiarity, causes lightning to twitch through your veins into your brain and your thoughts to stop. All you feel is heat. All you feel is Charles.

Charles next to you takes a deep breath, but you're too absorbed by him to realize he's looking down at you. "I'm alright. I have everything I need."

next part

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #carlos sainz jr #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc prompt #Charles Leclerc fanfic #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen

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yuutx · 3 months

Text

ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 ? (𝒢𝒪𝒥𝒪 𝒮𝒜𝒯𝒪𝑅𝒰)

gojo satoru x f!reader . 18+ content. ⟆ nsfw + unprotected sex/raw sex. praise kink. slight degrading kink. mentions of you cheating on him. clit play. fingering. dirty talk. possessiveness . creampie. ⟆ mdom + fsub ⟆ not proofread ! (๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑)

finally some jjk content ! this was meant to be out 2 days ago but i wasn't feeling too well so i had to postpone it ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

His fingers slowly traced the outline of your clothed pussy, squishing the folds of your clothed slit together. You let out soft whines, your hips twitching slightly as he touched you. "What have you been up to.. I wonder.." He spoke lowly, his other hand slowly caressing the side of your face. You turned away, refusing to make eye contact with the man towering over you. You could hear the disappointment in his voice, and his words were like venom. "I haven't seen you in months.. and you've never returned any of my calls or texts.." The man's voice trailed off, his hands continuing their movement against you. His fingers pressed into the material of your cotton panties, sliding his finger over your covered clit. You bit down onto your bottom lip, attempting to stop any noise from escaping.

"You've been avoiding me.. haven't you?" He asked, his lips pressing into the nape of your neck. You could feel the way his body towered over yours, his warmth enveloping your small frame. "You've been cheating on me again.." He muttered, his teeth lightly scraping over your skin. He continued to toy with you, his finger moving back and forth over the material that covered your sensitive bud. He let out a soft chuckle, his breath fanning across your neck. "You're so fucking wet, Y/N.. Is it him? Are you thinking about him right now?" He asked, his finger moving down further. He dipped the tip of his finger into the material of your panties, feeling the way your cunt dripped onto his skin. You could feel his erection pressed up against you, your body involuntarily grinding against his own.

You could feel his lips move into a smirk against the side of your neck, his teeth nibbling at the shell of your ear. "Look at you.." He whispered. "So fucking desperate.." His other hand wrapped around your neck, gripping the sides of your throat. He held you there, your pulse hammering against the palm of his hand. He moved his lips back down to your neck, pressing them to your skin as he slowly inserted a finger inside of you. Your legs twitched at the intrusion, a soft whimper escaping your lips. "I guess that.. man just can't satisfy you like I can.." He muttered, a low groan escaping his lips. You felt the way his tongue slid across the side of your neck, leaving behind a wet trail. He inserted a second finger, slowly pumping them in and out of you. "Otherwise you wouldn't be so fucking wet for me right now.." He continued.

"So, tell me.. Who is he? What does he look like?" He asked, his thumb rubbing over the tip of your clit. Your breathing hitched, your eyes screwing shut. "Does he have a bigger cock than me? Hmm?" He questioned, his fingers thrusting deeper into you. Your body shook with pleasure, his fingers curling inside of you. "Fuck.." You groaned, your walls squeezing around his digits. Gojo chuckled at the sight of your flustered face, his free hand slowly tugging your bottoms down. You could feel the way your juices slowly oozed out of you, a wet spot forming on the sheet beneath you. "He's probably not as good as me, is he? You like the way I fuck you, don't you, baby?"

You had to admit, you were putty in his hands. Every touch of his had your mind spinning, your head growing fuzzy. He always knew how to rile you up. He knew exactly how to push all of the right buttons. He knew how to get you so wet, you could barely control yourself. "F-fuck.." You moaned, his thumb circling the top of your clit. You could feel the way the knot in your stomach grew tighter and tighter, your thighs shaking as he continued his ministrations. "M-mhm.. fuck.. love the way you touch me.." You whined. The man above you let out a satisfied sigh, his fingers speeding up. "God.. I love the sounds you make, baby.." He muttered, his hot breath hitting the shell of your ear. "I wanna see you cum.." He added, his thumb pressing against the top of your clit. "Come on, baby.. Cum for me.." He whispered, his fingers thrusting at a faster pace.

Your body arched upwards, a loud moan escaping your lips. "There we go, that's it.." Gojo hummed, his lips pressing against the side of your jaw. Your hips rolled against his hand, his fingers still moving inside of you, helping you ride out your high. He slowly pulled his fingers out, bringing them up to his mouth. He made sure to hold eye contact with you as he inserted the two digits into his mouth, a soft moan leaving his lips as he sucked them clean. "Such a sweet pussy.." He mumbled. "Mhm.. so fucking sweet.." You could feel his hips slowly move forward, his clothed erection grinding against your bare slit. You could feel the way it pulsated through the material of his pants, a small stain forming where the tip was.

He continued his movements, his hips snapping forward, rutting his bulge against your slick folds. He let out a shaky breath, his head falling to the crook of your neck. "Shit.. so wet.." He groaned, his tongue licking a strip across the side of your neck, tasting the salty sweat on your skin. "I bet that fucker doesn't make you this wet, does he?" He asked, his voice breathy. You felt him slowly pull back, his hands quickly working to remove his clothes. "N..no.. he doesn't.." You stuttered, your eyes locked onto the man's figure. Your eyes fell onto his exposed torso, the way his abs tensed as he moved.

Your eyes trailed lower, until they landed on his cock. It was red and throbbing, the veins protruding from his shaft. A small bead of precum oozed from the tip, his dick twitching as you stared at it. He let out a small chuckle, his hands moving to his length. He slowly stroked himself, a soft grunt leaving his lips. "See something you like?" He questioned, a smug smile on his face. Your gaze quickly snapped back up to his face, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. Gojo let out a light laugh, his hand moving towards you. He grabbed the underside of your knee, pushing your leg upwards, exposing your dripping hole. "Fucking slut.." He muttered.

You let out a soft gasp as you felt the tip of his cock press against your opening, his grip tightening on the underside of your thigh. He slowly pushed himself in, his head falling back. "Shit.." He moaned, his eyes closing shut. Your walls clenched around him, a shaky moan escaping your lips. He let out a heavy sigh, his eyes opening. His gaze locked with yours, his free hand wrapping around your throat. He leaned forward, his lips pressed against the side of your face. You could feel the way he slowly began to move, his cock sliding in and out of you. You could hear the lewd noises coming from between your legs, your slick coating his member. "F-fuck, Satoru.." You moaned, the grip on your throat tightening. Your hands reached out, grabbing his shoulders. You could feel the way his muscles tensed beneath your fingers, his body rocking into yours.

"This what you want?" He asked, his teeth sinking into the side of your neck. You whined as you felt his cock stretch you out, your nails digging into the flesh of his back. "Yes.." You breathed out, a soft groan leaving his lips. "Yes.. m-missed your cock s' bad.." You whimpered, your head rolling to the side. "Yeah..?" He groaned, his thrusts picking up the pace. His hips snapped forward, a loud moan leaving your lips. You could feel the way his fingers tightened around your neck, his breath fanning over the side of your face. "That other man not giving it to you good enough? Huh?" He asked, his voice low.

"N-no.. h-he doesn't.. not as good as y-you.." You managed to speak, your nails scratching the skin of his back. "He.. he can't.. can't fuck me as g-good as you can.. you make me f-feel so good.. so full.. I love the w-way you fuck me.. so d-deep.." You whined, your back arching against him. He let out a low chuckle, his hand moving from your neck. His fingers tangled themselves in your hair, yanking your head back. Your eyes rolled back, your lips parted. "Look at you.." He cooed, his hand moving back to your throat. "So fucking pretty.. Taking my cock so well.." He praised, his hips slamming into yours. Your walls clenched around him, his cock throbbing deep inside you. You could feel the knot in the pit of your stomach grow tighter, your legs shaking.

"Mmh.. G-gonna cum.. Inside.. Hah.. Wanna see you.. see you filled with my cum.. Fuck.. C-cum for me, baby.." He stammered, his thrusts becoming erratic. "I-I really am a lucky bastard.." He muttered. "No one else gets to see you like this.. No one else gets to hear the way you beg for my cock.. From now on.. You're mine.. Just.. Fuck.." He grunted, his cock twitching inside you. "Only m-mine.. Mine to fuck.. You're all m-mine, do you understand? Say it.." You felt the way the coil in your stomach snapped, a loud cry leaving your lips. "All yours! M' all yours, Satoru.." You choked out, his thrusts speeding up. "Good girl.." He praised, his hand squeezing the sides of your throat. His grip loosened, his fingers caressing the sides of your face.

He groaned as he felt your walls flutter around him, his dick throbbing inside of you. "Good.. good fucking.. girl.. Hah.." He panted, his body collapsing on top of yours, hot ropes of his seed shooting inside you. He let out a shaky sigh, his head falling into the crook of your neck. His warm breath fanned across the side of your face, his hands holding onto you. He slowly rolled his hips, his softening cock moving inside of you, helping milk himself dry. You could feel his cum oozing out of you, pooling beneath the both of you. "Mine..You're mine.." He breathed out, his fingers trailing down your side. "Only mine.." He muttered, his lips pressing a kiss against the side of your face. "And if you're ever thinking about cheating on me again with that fucker, I'll kill him."

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eitaababe · 1 year

Note

PLS write me a headcannon of lo'ak and neteyam reacting to another person trying to court their girl !!

THAT'S MY GIRL !

a/n — u always have the best ideas istg / also i didnt proof read this i got lazy 😭

—

NETEYAM :

- he was pretty confident, if he were to say so himself

- you liked him and he liked you, it was simple really.

- it had been that way for years, and you guys thought your relationship with each other was pretty public, everyone knowing about you two

- clearly, you both were wrong.

- because you had caught the eye of another na'vi, unknowingly

- yorutro, was his name, and at first you truly believed he was just being friendly

- until he started gifting you shells, bracelets, tops, you name it.

- you accepted them, feeling bad, but would never wear them

- and you hadn't told neteyam yet, because you wanted to be sure your suspicions of him were correct

- and of course, the day you decided you were right, neteyam saw yorutro come up to you

- he hid at first, but the moment he saw the way the other male looked at you, he didn't waste time to break the meeting up.

"Hey!" Neteyam shouted, stomping his way over to you two. He tried his best to keep his temper hidden, flashing a flat smile. "What're you two doing here?"

Your eyes widened in shock, yet you were relieved. You glanced back and forth between the boys, giving Neteyam a subtle shrug when he raised an eye at the sight of you two together.

"Oh- um-" Yorutro stammered, alarmed at the sudden intrusion. "Just chatting." He finished, sending an all too nice smile Neteyam's way.

Noticing the boys nervous nature, Neteyam smirked, wrapping his arms around your figure. "Hey man, no worries. I was just looking for my girl."

You internally facepalmed, trying your best not to laugh at how Yorutro practically jumped at the words, scrambling to get out of your guys way. "Oh! That's fine! You can have her! I um- I had something I forgot about anyways. See you guys!"

Eyes following him, Neteyam waited until he was out of earshot to speak. "What a skxawng," he pressed a loving kiss to the top of your head. "Thinking he could steal my girl."

Leaning your head back you smiled up at him, shaking your head. "You know I'm yours, my love."

"And I am yours."

——

LO'AK :

- in everyone's defense, you and lo'ak were pretty much just a couple of best friends

- i mean, minus the kissing and cuddling and all that

- but you had more of a teasing relationship, neither of you were really that lovey dovey with each other out in public

- PDA just wasn't really your guys thing

- so who could blame the other na'vi trying to shoot his shot?

- enlo was a nice guy, really (at least you thought, lo'ak felt otherwise)

- but he definitely wasn't subtle about his intentions with you

- as much as you tried to give hints you didn't feel that way, he kept trying

- you told lo'ak, and while he requested to just tell him straight up to screw off, you felt that was mean, and wanted to let him down easily

- it took some convincing, but lo'ak agreed and you were on your way to meet enlo, lo'ak coming and watching from a close distance (just in case)

"y/n!" enlo called, striding over towards you.

'oh, eywa' you thought to yourself, flashing him a smile. "hi, enlo," you started, glancing around for lo'ak. when you met his eyes he gave you a reassuring smile, encouraging you to go on. "we need to talk."

"yes we do!" he agreed, cutting you off. "i actually had something really important to ask you."

uh oh.

"oh? what is it?" you played along, tail nervously flicking behind you.

"we'll, i've been thinking recently. i really enjoy your company. you're beautiful, and smart, and-"

"enlo," you cut him off, trying to save him from making this worse. "i'm flattered, really, i am. and i think you're a nice guy. but i'm with someone."

his expression hardened, looking down at you. "you're seeing who?"

"she's seeing me, dickhead." lo'ak called out, immediately standing by your side.

enlo looked between the two of you, almost offended. "seriously, you're choosing this five fingered freak over me?"

"hey!" you snapped, about to step up to him when lo'ak put an arm in front of you to stop you.

"don't worry y/n, i got this," he stated with a smug look, walking up to enlo. lo'ak definitely wasn't as tall as him, but he didn't show anything that suggested that bothered him. "so, enlo."

"y'know, having five fingers really has it's perks. you can hold more things, you have a better grip. oh! and you even have an extra finger for this." he smiled, flipping the taller boy off.

you facepalmed, trying not to laugh at your boyfriend's antics.

clearly, enlo didn't find it amusing, and shoved lo'ak harshly out of the way, beginning to walk off. "whatever, man. you can have the bitch."

"oh sorry, i forgot one thing about my hands! i can curl them up into this ball and-" lo'ak didn't even bother to finish his sentence before he landed a punch square to enlo's jaw, then another to his nose.

enlo, taken by surprise, didn't even have time to react while lo'ak took it to his advantage, still throwing punches at him and knocking him off his feet. and while you weren't fond of the words spoken of you, you didn't want lo'ak getting too carried away and getting into more trouble with his dad.

"lo'ak! that's enough." you called, and of course, he listened. he got off of the other male, sending a glare to him while he walked over to you.

enlo got up (barely), and held his nose, groaning in pain. "yeah, run back to y/n! can't even finish a fight." he pathetically spat at lo'ak, making him turn around to finish the fight until you stopped him.

"i got this one," you muttered, making your way back over to enlo. "clearly, he was trying to be nice, but since you're such a dickhead, i'll finish it for him." so you punched him right in the nose, making the boy stumble back in pain, both hands covering his bloody nose.

as you walked back over to lo'ak, he looked at you proudly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"that's my girl."

—

a/n — lo'ak's was longer than intended whoops

#avatar x reader #neteyam sully #avatar #neteyam #neteyam fluff #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x reader #lo'ak sully #lo'ak #lo'ak fluff #lo'ak x y/n #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak headcanons #neteyam fic #neteyam imagine #neteyam headcanons #avatar fluff

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dduane · 6 months

Note

Sorry if you’ve answered this before, but any tips on improving your technobabble?

I originally came at this problem from two different directions. The first one took considerably more time to enable.

(a) Be familiar (or get familiar) with the languages in which most scientific terms are coined: Latin and Greek.

I took Latin in high school, already knowing that I was a science person and that Latin was considered "the language of science". (And medicine, which also turned out to be handy for me later.) I also started studying Greek in college—and, sigh, I'm still studying it.

Once you're starting to get familiar with the languages, practice coining terms as you need them. While it's considered a failure of style in scientific naming to mix Latin and Greek in the same term, I've found it better to be guided by euphony than a slavish obedience to the rules.

Because sometimes a word or term just sounds right. "Temporospatial claudication", for example, was coined by running a Latin physics term head-on into a medical one. "Claudication" was (and still is in some countries) a term for a constriction in a blood vessel. Its origin in the Latin claudo- and clausum roots is responsible for the Emperor Claudius's name, which would once have implied somebody who limps secondary to such a circulatory problem. I simply bent the term's most basic meaning off into a different direction.

...So you see how that goes. Bang the roots together and see what successfully sticks.

The second approach is a little easier. But only a little.

(b) Base your coined terminology on the conventions and rhythms of real technobabble: by which I mean actual, technical scientific language.

The best way to pick this up in sufficient depth is by reading technical papers in your field of interest—lots of them—so you can see how the pros communicate to/with one another. Every field has its own jargon lying around just begging to be stolen... assuming you observe very carefully how it's correctly used. Otherwise you risk outing yourself as nothing but an interested but insufficiently-committed bystander. You must also be super careful not to screw with the interior grammar of such techspeak... as inevitably it'll have one.

For example: when I was tooling up for writing The Wounded Sky, I spent easily three months reading papers in/on hyperdimensional physics. (Not that I wouldn't have done this anyway. It's a fascinating subject, and before I went into nursing I'd been a physics major, so I had a fair amount of the necessary background to understand what I was reading.) Even in the 80s there were a lot of such papers around, and in those distant pre-Internet days I was helped a whole lot by living just across the road from the impressive science library at Cal State Northridge.

During that period I could be found in the periodicals racks once or twice every week, digging through the monthly journals on the hunt for material that would be germane to the plot I was boiling. I found ten times more goodies than I ever could reasonably have used. The toughest part was winnowing it all down to what I actually needed to scatter here and there for atmosphere's sake, or to plant in specific spots to grease the plot's wheels. (My favorite remains the [legit!] paper with the delightful title, "Taub-NUT Space as a Counterexample to Almost Anything.")

Anyway, I must have got something about that whole business right, since one Princeton physics professor whose work I'd cited at the end of the novel asked me if he could use it in teaching his classes. :)

But there's a third element involved; more an attitude that you apply to what you've produced while employing the first one or two approaches.

You have to treat your coined terms as if they're absolutely real... something that any person educated in the science you're working with would know. The voice and tone in which you write using them has to reflect this absolute confidence and commitment to their reality. Because if you don't—at least while you're writing—absolutely believe in them enough to speak confidently about them, no one else will believe in them either.

But then that's a solid general principle anyway. If you don't do something you've created the courtesy of taking it seriously enough to believe in it (or its reality inside the larger reality you're creating), it won't long survive contact with exterior realities like the inside of your reader's mind.

HTH!

ETA: here's that citation page from the end of Wounded Sky. I believe it remains the only Star Trek novel with a cites list at the end. :)

#technobabble #how to #or a couple of ways to

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444ajax · 11 months

Text

beg for it

– miguel o'hara x male reader.

cw; dom!miguel, sub male!reader, miguel is mean in this, a little non-con but you (the reader) is into it, rough sex, impact play, praise, degradation, breeding kink, a little surprise at the end, miguel speaks spanish in this (i google translated it so if it's not good, sorry). also, this is 4k words and no, i won't do the "MDNI" because y'all ignore it anyway.

It seemed like you were just rubbing it in his face that he couldn't catch you, no matter how hard he tried. Sure, there were times where he almost caught you, but you slipped out of his grasp before he could finally put a stop to this.

Until one day, Miguel did catch you.

And he wasn't nice about it.

+++

You were swinging through rooftops, easily dodging Miguel, laughing underneath your mask. The chase was so fun and enthralling that adrenaline began to pump through your veins, kindling a fire to brew and burst through the crevices of your chest and —

And then your foot slips, causing you to lose balance as you stumbled off the rooftop and landed on the dumpster, back erupting in agony as you gasped.

Fuck, you couldn't help but think as you rolled off the dumpster and landed on your side, air rushing out of your chest as you once again gasped. You laid there for a few seconds, breathing — no — gulping in air desperately. Then, you hear feet smack on the ground by the end of the alleyway and you freeze.

You almost forgot about Miguel because of the white-hot flashes of agony coursing through your body, nails digging into the filthy ground as you forced your gaze up and there he was, standing menacingly.

You could make out his broad chest, his wide shoulders, his tiny waist, and how his fists were curled up.

In other circumstances, you would find him drop-dead gorgeous, stunning, beautiful. Miguel isn't gross, or ugly, or any negative symptom.

But at this moment, you aren’t thinking about his beauty or his fat voluptuous ass, or his deep voice, or—

Goddamn, stop being down bad! And so you focus on the fact that you're absolutely screwed as you turned around and tried to crawl — your muscles burning and aching as you did so, panting.

”Fuck, fuck, fuck—” Your words are cut off as you heard Miguel’s callous, harsh laughter.

You could hear him approaching — footsteps slow, but loud enough to ring in the otherwise empty alleyway.

“My, my, what do we have here?” Miguel rasped, chuckling to himself; it's muffled because of his mask and you tried to crawl more, but your muscles were screaming. “And here, I thought I could never catch you, after all this time.”

You grunted, hearing Miguel’s footsteps stop before the heel of his foot digs into the lower end of your back, a quiet gasp escaping your lips.

“And now?” He presses harder on your back, making you groan, “I have you here. Alone. Maybe injured.”

You can't help but shake your head, attempting to crane it upward so your gaze can meet his own; a throbbing sensation in your head forces it back down, squeezing your eyes shut.

“I–I’m not alone—”

Miguel laughs again, digging his heel harder. “Stop the lies,” he hissed. Then, he removes his foot and you decide that it's either definitely getting locked up or trying to salvage what you can of yourself.

You begin to lift yourself up on your elbows, arms trembling as you try to use one of your web shooters to yank a broken chair down the alleyway, but Miguel is faster.

He immediately drops to sit on your fucking backside, pressing down, down, down, until you're forced on the ground again; his hand had encircled around your wrist and he slams it down, uncaring and unkind as you grimced in pain.

“Fuck!” You cried out in pain, trying to wriggle from beneath the man, but he quickly used his other hand to grip the base of your neck and slam it down onto the cement; pain explodes in your skull, affliction rushing through your blood and you weep.

“Stop fucking moving,” Miguel growled in your ear, and you do, chest wheezing with bated breaths. Everything fucking hurts and you let yourself become limp for a moment; the presence of Miguel doesn't leave. In fact, he leans away for a moment before he’s leaning over you again, minty breath fanning over the shell of your ear.

A shudder ripples through your frame and you have to hold yourself back from whimpering, feeling Miguel's hand tangle in your dark tresses as he grips them, yanking your head back.

“You’re trapped, you little shit, I have all of my crew on speed dial.” Miguel says, warning in his voice.

You squeezed your eyes shut, swallowing. Warmth pools in your stomach and you're trying, desperately, to fight against it.

Not now, you think to yourself as you could feel Miguel’s talons scraping and digging into your scalp, causing beads of crimson to drip down the slope of your temple.

And sure, like any other person, they would have cried in pain because it hurts, but you? No. You liked it.

“Fuck, I—” Your voice is breathy, quiet. You can feel yourself slowly getting hard in the suit; it constricts around your cock and you squirm, holding in the moan at the contact. “It wasn't — I was just…messing with you.”

Miguel is quiet for a moment, his breath harsh before he snarls out, “Just messing with me? You kept ruining the multiverse, and we had to clean up your damn mess! Eres estúpido,” He finished in Spanish and wow.

You swallow again, trying to clear the lumpiness and tightness in it as you whispered, “I…It wasn't like that …I just—”

Miguel slams your head back on the concert and hisses, “Save it! I don't want to hear your fucking excuses, maldito mocoso.”

His tone is harsh, yet there's a hint of huskiness and rasp in it that makes your back bow, just a little. Of course, nothing goes unnoticed with Miguel, and he grabs your neck; his talons barely missing the fabric of your suit.

“You think I haven't noticed?”

You freeze, nails digging into the dirty ground, trying to control the storm brewing. “Noticed…what?” Your reply is quiet, but Miguel is in your space, in your face, his breath fanning over your ear and over the side of your face; your mask had slipped a little to expose these features, and you were terrified that he would know who you were.

“The fact that you're enjoying this,” he breathily says, warm lips brushing along your ear. “You like this, huh? Does it turn you on when men like me chase you?”

You don't know what to say. He isn't wrong, the evidence in your suit that is too damn tight, a bead of precum dribbling from the tip of your shaft.

And — when Miguel pressed his hips against the curve of your ass — you could feel him and fuck, he’s big.

“S’fine, I—” Miguel huffs, before pushing some of your mask up a little more, making you try to claw at his arm and he quickly pins that.

“Don't you fucking dare,” Miguel growled, before he forcefully twisted your head to the side as he hungrily pressed his lips against yours; it's rough, unkind, as he devours your trembling whines. He swallows them as Miguel wrapped an arm around your neck, fingers caressing over your jaw, squeezing it until you mewl.

He pulls back, inhaling sharply as spit connects your lips before he leaned in again, kissing you once more.

This time, he's a little more gentle, swiping at your bottom lip and you open your mouth, letting him inside.

Your tongues brush against each other and you moan, swirling yours along his and he groans, scraping his talons along your cheek.

“Fuck,” he whispered against your lips, pulling away as he pressed more kisses along the curve of your cheek, then your jaw, until he huffs and pulls back. “Fuckin’ look at you, cariño, you're a mess.“ He thumbs at your swollen lips and you can't help but whimper.

Your eyes are blown wide and your face is flushed, body warm and hot and needy as your hips bucked against the ground; Miguel easily noticed and pushed your head back down, making sure to sit back on your legs for a moment as you writhed.

“What are you…what are you going to do?” You asked, voice quiet; hints of nervousness slips into your tone and you wonder, briefly, if Miguel can notice.

When he replies, he either hasn't noticed, or doesn't care enough to comment. Both seem suitable. “Use your brain, what do you think I’m going to do?”

You hear his talons rip down your suit and you gasp, trying to crawl away; you knew what was to come and you wanted no part of it.

“No, no, stop—” You cried but Miguel held you down, pinning both of your wrists and squeezing them so hard until you sob, face buried into the ground.

Yet, your cock twitches, more precum leaking and your suit is stained; Miguel is an asshole, a menace, but he makes your body so hot that it feels like it could boil over.

You want this.

It seems like Miguel has read your mind because he leans down and whispers, “Don't fucking pretend you hate this. Remember, you got hard first.”

He's not wrong.

“Miguel, I—” You gulp, accidentally brushing your ass against his clothed cock and moaning.

He leans back his hips and tsks. “If you want it, you gotta beg for it, pretty boy.”

Pretty boy. Pretty boy. Pretty—

Miguel just said you're pretty and your brain is melting, so you're nodding, words almost slurring as you whispered;

“Please.”

He doesn't shift for a moment before a shallow “fuck” escapes his lips and you can hear movement, a zipper sound, then something is rubbing along your ass and you know it's his cock.

“Can't wait until I’m filling up this ass of yours, what do you think, hm? I know you can take me. Boys like you will do anything to be fucked. Isn't that right, querido?”

You nod, moaning as he ripped more of your suit until your ass was exposed; Miguel easily maneuvers you until you were onto your hands and knees, a groan escaping your mouth as your cock hung between your thighs.

God, you were so hard, that it physically pained you.

Miguel's large hands roamed over the dip and curves of your supple ass, before squeezing it and giving a nice, rough smack; the flesh jiggles you and you groan, arching your back deeper.

“Mhm, good boy, just like that — keep that back arched,” Miguel muttered as he spread your cheeks and leaned forward, blowing warm air over your hole.

A whine escaped your lips as you wiggled your hips, desperate. “Please, Miguel, need it—”

“Is that so, slut? You think you deserve this? My tongue, lapping over your hole, hand wrapped around that pathetic cock of yours that just keeps fucking leaking,” Miguel growled out the last part as his large hand engulfs the base of your dick and squeezes tightly, forcing a muffled cry from your lips.

You were trembling, toes curling as you nodded, breaths ragged. “Please, please, need it—ngh—so badly,” you begged, nails clawing at the ground as Miguel stroked from base to tip, tightening his palm around the head as he stroked over the glans; sensitivity flowing through your veins as tears sprung to your tears.

Miguel curses, “Suenas hermoso — necesito hacerte sentir bien,” and then Miguel dives forward to push his warm tongue along the curve of your hole before flicking it, making you moan as you sink your head down onto the ground. Pleasure wracks up and down your spine, thighs trembling.

You peek one eye open as you watch Miguel wrap his hand around his cock and squeeze the base, grunting into your hole; he pulls back and spits on it before slurping, relaxing you enough so he can ease his tongue inside, making a surprised groan leave your mouth.

“Oh, god, please–” You whined, back arching deeper, trying to get a hand around your dick to release some pressure but Miguel is quicker, slapping it away.

He pulls back, making sure to collect the precum that has been leaking on his palm to smear it over your asshole, before easing one finger in; it's easy and you relax, grunting. His fingers are thick as he pushes past the tight ring of muscle, groaning himself.

“Just like that, babyboy,” Miguel’s voice is encouraging and you shudder, letting yourself relax more as he pushes all the way knuckle deep. A gasp leaves your lips and you squirm, uncomfortableness stretching across the pane and curve of your frame.

Miguel wraps his other hand around your cock, tugging on it. It's clear he’s trying to distract you. “I know you can take it, like I said.”

You pant, but nod anyway. “I—I can,” you stumble over your words and feel sweat roll down your temple.

“That’s right.”

You think about his talons and shift, “You haven't scratched me with your talons, at least, in my ass.”

Miguel thrusts another finger inside, making you grimace. Wrong thing to say, then?

“Sounds like you're asking me to do it.” He says it like a statement, not a question, and you shake your head quickly before opening your mouth; no words of such slip out, instead, a moan falls from it as he scissors you open easily.

He keeps stroking you, making you pant and moan in bliss. Miguel then proceeds to curl his fingers upward and —

“Fuck!” You cursed in the open, gasping as he hit your prostate, and you moaned wantonly. Miguel continues to press on the bundle of nerves, forcing back-to-back cries and squeals from you.

Miguel grunts, leaning over you as he eased his hand off your cock. “You sound so good, sweetheart. Like a little mutt in fucking heat, dontcha agree?”

You're nodding, but you're too deep in your pleasure to really think as you gasp, feeling him stroke over it consistently. The tightness in your balls, your stomach, in your chest slowly begins to unfurl as you claw at Miguel's forearm that rested next to your head.

“Oh, fuck, oh fuck, Miguel—ngh, hah—so close, m’so close—!” You squealed, but then he slips his fingers out, forcing your climax to settle down before it could explode. You slump down onto the floor, limbs quivering.

Miguel easily rolls you onto your back, his suit pooling around his waist and the front part tucked under his heavy balls; broad chest covered in little scars here and there, nipples hardened, waist snatched and wide shoulders hunched over as Miguel caressed over your smaller frame.

“Even though your mask is halfway up, you still look good—” You tried saying, but Miguel slaps a hand over your mouth, narrowing his eyes.

“Shut up,” and then he pulls his hand away before he lifts your legs up and settles them over his shoulders, forcing your body to slide up as one of his large hands grip your waist, the other wrapping around the base.

You look down and swallow, tongue darting out to lick your chapped lips. “I know you said, uh—”

Miguel glares at you, face scrunching in annoyance, fangs poking over his bottom lip.

“But…I don't think it’ll fit, I mean, you only prepped me a little and–”

Miguel rolls his neck as he pressed the blunt head of his cock against your wet hole, looking up; his dark, crimson eyes stare into yours as he says, “Then we’ll make it fit, you fucking slut.”

Then he pushed the head inside, slowly, but the stretch was unbearable as your back bowed and your chest was exposed; Miguel greedily touched your nipple and rolled it between his fingers, making a whine leave your lips.

“F–Fuck, Miguel,” you moaned, feeling him push his cock deeper, carving himself in and out of your hole. It felt amazing, yet it hurt so much, you knew it was gonna ache after, but in the moment? You didn't care.

He keeps pushing, panting as he wraps his hand back around your trimmed waist, squeezing it. “Fuck, you feel so good around me, so goddamn tight — might make me cum raw in you,” and then he eased more of himself into you.

You freeze, blinking as you look at him. Shit, you forgot to ask if he had a condom or not, and you know you wouldn't get pregnant but still…STDS and shit.

“Condom?” You pant, trying to push against his large chest, but he’s quick to shove you back roughly and essentially trap you so you can't move; you realize belatedly that you're in the mating press position and moan, writhing.

Miguel is all the way in and fuck it hurts yet the stretch is so good, you find your hands digging and clawing at his muscular biceps because of it. You can't tell if you want to beg for more or ask him to pull out.

“Too late for that, cariño, but it's s’fine, isn't it? Whores like you just take it like this — raw and deep so they can breed you, right?” Miguel’s voice is husky and raspy, it brings a shudder down your spine and you can't help but whimper at his words, writhing some more.

“Not—” You gasped, toes curling as you felt his hips roll forward, almost pushing you back. “Not true, Miguel, not—”

He’s shaking his head and leaning into your space, large frame pressing you down, down, down, until you whimper. “It is true, and you can't deny it. Admit it, baby, admit that you're a fucking whore.”

The thick head of his dick is pressing against your prostate and you moan, arching your back as he slowly pulls himself out, then pushes back in.

“Say it,” Miguel hissed, pushing himself out faster before ramming his hips forward, jolting you back and you have to hold onto him; your eyes are watering, cock twitching and leaking precum, it ends up smearing across the pane of your stomach as you nod.

You sob out, “Yes, yes, I’m a whore,” and moan as he grinds against your sweet spot.

“That’s it,” Miguel murmured, a wicked grin on his pretty lips. “Since you said it, I’m gonna reward you like the good little slut you are.”

Miguel begins a deep, but hard rhythmic pace as his hips and balls slap against your ass, his head near your face as he grunts in your ear; his harsh breaths fanning across your sweaty face as you cling onto him and squeal when he pulls back and forces himself back inside, each time.

“Hah—ah—yes! Miguel, please, harder—” You cry out, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he folds you completely in half, making a gasp rip from your throat as he placed his arms next to your head and tangled his fingers with yours.

He continues to fuck you like this, making your eyes roll back as your mouth falls open; streams of unfiltered, breathy whines escape your mouth and you can barely keep your eyes open.

“Look at me,” Miguel rasped, his own voice cracking as you trembled.

Miguel buried himself to the hilt, grinding against your prostate as you sobbed, eyes flying open as you writhed.

“M–Miguel, please…” You begged hopelessly, jolting from the constant pleasure on your spot. “Keep going, need it, need you to fuck me stupid and–”

He looked at you and then boldly pushed your mask off, gazing into your watery eyes as he brushed away your locks. Fear sinks deep and low into your stomach and you quickly look away, trying — (failing) — to hide your face.

“Chico hermoso,” Miguel whispers, before using his hand to brush off his own mask, then he dips down to kiss your bruised lips. It's soft, too soft, before he rested his forehead against yours.

You feel your throat tighten. “M–Miguel?” Your voice breaks.

Then, he pulls away and settles his arms around your head once more before saying; “You wouldn't look at me like I asked.”

Miguel then keeps pounding into you, mercilessly and ruthlessly as you hold onto him, nails carving into his flesh. Your cock is trapped between both of your sweaty bodies and you wrap around him, moaning into his ear.

“Taking me so fuckin’ well like I knew you would,” Miguel groaned, thrusting into you faster. “Been wanting to do this since I laid eyes on you, muñeca.”

You rake your nails down his broad back and hear him moan, hips spluttering before he resumes; not stopping, even though your limbs are trembling as you feel your stomach begin to tighten.

The orgasm from earlier is creeping on you and your back barely arched as your head pushed back against the ground, eyes rolling back. You can feel it getting closer, rolling in the pit of your stomach, settling beneath your bones and in your cock.

“Miguel, please, please, s’close, please–!” You cried, holding him closer as he erratically rutted into you, panting in your ear.

The rope in your stomach is loosening, forcing you to hold onto Miguel even more and you sob, “Miguel!”

He groans, pulling back to rest his forehead against yours. “You wanna cum for me, hm?”

Nodding, you claw at his back again. “M’gonna cum, fuck, I’m so close—ngh—let me cum, Miguel, please, I need it–”

Miguel huffs and tangles his fingers with yours again, removing his face from your forehead to whisper into your ear, “Beg for it, mi amor.”

Your voice pitches into desperation as your orgasm begins to unravel, “Please, please, please, Miguel I need it, I need to cum—ngh—please, I’m desperate, I’ll do anything just to cum, let me cum,” and you sob, tears rushing down your cheeks as Miguel groaned.

“Go ahead, baby, let go for me — be a good boy and cum for me,” Miguel rasps and you do, your orgasm untangling at the seams as it washes over you in waves; your heart thrumming hard as you wailed into his shoulder, body jerking and spasming from the intensity.

Ropes of cum paint both of your stomachs but Miguel doesn't even seem to care as he ruthlessly fucks into you. He’s animalistic in the way he pounds into you, unrelenting and unforgiving.

You can't even formulate a response or a moan because of how hard he’s fucking you; all you can do is hold onto him and rut your softening cock against his toned stomach, the aftershocks of your orgasm still making you spasm.

“Gonna fill you up sweetheart and breed your pretty hole — joder cariño, ya voy..” Miguel hisses, giving a few more hard thrusts before his hips stutter as he lets out a breathy moan. His talons accidentally dig into your hands and cause blood to spill because of how much he’s coming.

Both of your breathing is heavy and ragged as he slumps against you, releasing your hands as Miguel sighed, propping himself onto his elbows.

“I hurt you—”

You shrug and mumble, “S’fine. I’ve been a brat recently.”

Miguel hums before his tongue darts out to lick up the blood easily, soothing his tongue over the cuts before he pulls back, grunting. “All cleaned up.”

“It’ll heal, Mig, so it's fine,” you stressed and the man huffs, nuzzling against your cheek with a grunt.

His voice is muffled as he says, “I know, but still. We didn't plan that part out.”

“You know how much I’m a slut for pain, though, so is it really a problem?”

Miguel is quiet before he pulls himself away and gently eases his softening cock from your hole, which immediately allows his seed to spill from your asshole and you flush, cheeks in a deep shade of red.

“No need to be embarrassed, pretty boy, I did just fuck you in this alleyway, knowing anyone could see us,” Miguel brushes away your hair and gives you…a small smile? You can't tell because it's so dark, but his red irises stick out and your hand strokes along his sharp cheekbone.

“Yeah, you're right. We definitely needed this, but, uh, can we go? I’m absolutely starved.”

Miguel chuckled. “Of course, baby.”

Back at the apartment, Miguel gives you a massage, a well-deserved blowjob, and fucks you in multiple positions after you beg for it.

#miguel o'hara #male reader #i have no idea on how to tag #miguel o'hara smut #x male smut #x reader #smut #size difference #miguel x reader #mlm smut #bottom male reader #top miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099

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beeing1alive · 1 month

Text

Tokyo Revengers boys have to sleep on the sofa after an argument

f.t.: Mikey(Manjirō Sanō); Darken(Ken Ryūgūji); Mitsuya(Takashi Mitsuya)

Mikey:

he argued with you and you both got loud

after an hour he couldn't take it anymore and left to ride his motorbike through the city to clear his head. motorbike through the city to clear his head

when he came back, his bedding wasn't in his bed as usual, but on the sofa instead

asked you what that was about and you told him that you needed a bit of distance from him and that he needed to sleep on the sofa

became very quiet and went to sleep on the sofa without another word

but he couldn't sleep because he missed you

so after a few sleepless hours, he came over to you and meekly explained that he couldn't fall asleep without you and that he missed you

he also apologised to you

and because he was so sweet, you forgave him and said that you wanted to cuddle

he doesn't need to be told twice and goes straight to bed with you to cuddle you

you stayed like that for the rest of the night and he fell asleep after just a few minutes

Draken:

the argument started with the normal question of where he had been

but he was irritated and then just snapped at you that you didn't have to care

he got a bit too loud and rude

you left and left him alone in that room

this room was full of angry energy and it sounded like everything he had just thrown at you echoed off the walls

fell into a chair and slumped down, thumb and forefinger pressed to the bridge of his nose

he regrets it, so so so so much

wanted to tell you the same thing and jumped up to run out of the room, still reeking of aggression, into the living room

you were nowhere to be found, only his bedding had been thrown on the sofa

had actually intended to tell you that he couldn't sleep without you and neither could you without him, but realised that you probably wanted some peace and quiet and left you alone

so lies down without you on the otherwise warm and cosy sofa, which seems much colder and more uncomfortable to him at the moment, and tries to sleep

as expected, it didn't work

at some point, early in the morning, he couldn't take it any longer and came to you in the bedroom to ask if he could lie down with you

You didn't answer him, you just threw back the covers next to you back as a symbol that he could lie down with you

mumbled a thousand apologies into your hair as you lay there wrapped up in his arms and the blanket like a borito

Mitsuya

was stressed and, honestly, I hope we can all agree that he doesn't usually take things like that out on the people he loves, especially not you

but even he makes mistakes from time to time and sometimes his brain circuits go haywire

so he grumbled at you and used words that you had heard coming out of his mouth

you just stared at him at first, because that's not his way of just not driving you

that's why you were shocked and the last word you said was that you needed time to think, alone

screwed up in pain at the thought of all the things he had just accused you on

but he respects your decision and will leave you alone until you're ready to talk

is still surprised when he sees his bedding lying on the sofa in the living room and knows straight away that he certainly couldn't go to sleep without you

doesn't even try to sleep and prefers to continue working on one of his works for you instead

at some point he got so tired that he decided to ask you if he could sleep with you after all

asked you as politely as possible and assured you that something like that would never, ever happen again

you allowed him to, of course, how could you have ruled otherwise when he was standing there in the doorway like an abandoned kitten and unintentionally at that -thanks you and apologises to you until you effectively shut him up with a brief kiss of reconciliation and he then simply drifts off to sleep with you in his arms

Attention: The characters and the gif do not belong to me. All credits go to the actual owners. If you want anything to be changed or removed, please write to me.

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risuola · 5 months

Text

LOOKS LIKE WE'RE SNOWED IN FOR THE NIGHT — F. READER x KAMO CHOSO, with whom you got stuck in a cabin

A fireplace, a nice blanket, a bunch of snow and the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree… for some it might sound like a perfect way to spend the night during the festive season, but not when you’re stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with your biggest enemy. And it’s cold.

cw: smut, enemies to lovers, oral (f. receiving), angst-ish vibe, death mentioned (I put it as a warning, but honestly, if you're into jjk you're probably used to it, just sayin'), reader discretion is advised — 2,9k words

kissmas masterlist

“Looks like we’re snowed in for the night,” Choso pointed, making few futile attempts to push the doors open. “I can force the way out but I doubt you’re gonna survive it.” He added, venomous tone evident in his otherwise calm and low voice.

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. This is horrible, you thought, it couldn’t possibly get worse than that. The cabin, secluded and nestled deep in the woods, once a welcoming refuge from the cold, was now a claustrophobic cage trapping you and Choso inside. The doors, blocked by the snow piled high behind them were impossible to open and the windows – old and grime-stained – covered with ice, offered no escape. The interiors, now cleared out of the cursed spirit that resided in here scaring the owners away, were as cozy as they could be with warm colors of the creaking wooden floors and the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree, that funny enough was the only thing that still was working inside. The furniture was faded and worn-down by the humid air, the cobwebs decorating every corner.

The task at hand was simple enough – get in, exorcise, get out – but the snow and the cold were making everything more difficult, not to mention the man you had to share the experience with. It was a part of introducing the Death Painting into the jujutsu society and a silent attempt to make the two of you fonder of each other, but the result proved itself to be starkly different, when you got stuck with him for the night, or god knows how long.

“Damn,” you groaned finally, realizing there’s nothing you can do to make the situation better. No escape, no signal, not even a goddamn kettle that would work.

“Looks like you’re really screwed, huh?” Choso mocked you, a smirk twisting his features because he knew – he just knew that you’re not gonna make it through the night and though he enjoyed the idea of watching you freeze to death, he involuntarily threw some more wood into the fire to keep it alive.

“I’m perfectly fine, fuck you,” you snapped, glaring at his stupid handsome face from your place across the room, hoping silently that maybe once in this world a glare could kill.

You and Choso had always been on opposite sides. Your fights always end up in blood, there was little to no respect between you two, and though in a fight you two were able to work together, outside of it, it was a much different story. You just couldn’t stand each other, you could never put a finger on the reason why, but you just never clicked. Always having different opinions, always too stubborn to let go and not even once agreeing on a plan of work. You trusted him just enough to know he will most likely not kill you in your sleep.

Now, as the sound of the howling wind outside was constantly reminding you on the dire situation, the storm outside showing no signs of letting up, the pressure between you and him seemed to reach a breaking point. At first, you moved through the cabin, walking back and forth, avoiding each other’s gaze and trying to ignore the fact you were trapped together. “Sit quiet and stop being annoying,” you growled at him, hating the way he was sprawled comfortably on the little sofa while you were feeling more and more cold as the hours were passing by. Kamo and his damn temperature regulation.

You had been fighting constantly since you arrived, each blaming the other for the predicament you were in. You argued and hurled insults at each other, both trying to assert dominance over the other. You were constantly on the edge, you bickered until both of you were that close to exploding. You fought about everything, from the mission to the tiny space you were forced to share. You could barely stand the sound of each other’s breathing, much less the sight of each other’s faces and the constant, near proximity. It was only a matter of time one of you snapped.

It felt claustrophobic, nearly – the way only four walls were surrounding you and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t quite navigate yourself through the treacherous environment. You had no idea what exactly was oh-so wrong with this place. A desolate cabin with nothing but cold air and the palpable tension between you and Choso was slowly taking a toll on you. Harsh winter wind howled outside and it was clear that your spirits matched its bitterness. The twinkling, colorful lights adorning the mismatched Christmas tree in the corner did nothing to warm up the bleakness of the place.

Hours passed and you got tired of the banter. Choso noticed how slowly you became, quiet, less talkative. It became easier and easier to outsmart you as the cold was taking a toll on your body. Your retorts were less sharp, a little delayed as the temperature went even lower along with the night progressing.

“You’re gonna die in here?” He asked, his tone as nonchalant as ever, but it was getting to him that you might actually die that night. It was fun while it lasted and you did an excellent job in making him believe that you’re gonna survive the night, that you’re fine. He allowed his eyes, that up until that point were closed as he was resting on the sofa, to look at your form. You were shivering, seated on the furry carpet near the fireplace and though you were as close to the heat as it was possible, it didn’t do much to help you. Your breath was visible and you were constantly rubbing your hands together in hopes to stop them from going numb.

“I’m fine,” you said again, your voice much punier than you intended it to be and Kamo found it amusing how you forced yourself to sound strong, when in reality, you were so small and weak and vulnerable.

“Oh, are you?” The question had mocking qualities that Choso couldn’t hold back. “You know, all it takes is for you to ask nicely and I might consider warming you up.”

“Fuck you.” Oh, you were so stubborn. He shrugged and kept observing you.

The cabin fell quiet. The air was thick with tension and the only sounds were the occasional drip of water from the ceiling, crackling of fire in the fireplace and the soft tickling of a clock. The rattling of the windows in the wind accompanied the cacophony.

“Isn’t the big, strong sorceress now uncharacteristically quiet?” He joked once again, and you could have sworn that even in the freezing cold, he had an ability to make your blood boil. “Cat got your tongue?”

“I miss the times when paintings were not talking,” you retorted, wrapping yourself tighter in the imitation of a blanket you found laying around. “You have no idea how much I’d love to exorcise your half-cursed ass.”

“As if you were ever gonna be strong enough to put a harm onto me,” he said, pushing himself up from the couch. “Besides, you might wanna pick your words carefully. You’re at my mercy right now.”

“I’d rather be eaten by a polar bear than be at your mercy.”

“Oh, that would be a cool death, right?” He laughed, a taunting tone piercing the air and your soul, it seemed. “Or a curse. It would sound much better in the report later if I told your friends that you lost your life in battle, with bravery and strength, yeah? For sure it’s more appealing than a lame reason like freezing to death.”

“Oh, shut up…” you sighed, leaning your cheek on one of your knees. You kept them tightly pressed to your chest, a desperate attempt of storing any leftover heat along your torso, but it did little to nothing. “Come on, get your ass over there.”

“I already told you, you have to ask me nicely.”

“That’s as nice as I’m gonna get.”

“So that’s as close as you’re gonna get me,” he smirked, teasing you beyond decency, well aware of how delicate was a situation you were now in. To him, cold was nothing more than an inconvenience. In all honesty, he could break the doors open and just go through the snow during night and he would be just fine, but you… it was a different story and truth is that he stayed in the cabin only because of you.

“Choso, please, don’t be a dick, I’m freezing to death, literally,” you whined, forgetting about your pride and prioritizing the survival. “Please?”

“Much better,” Choso chuckled and moved from the sofa to the floor, sitting behind you with his legs on both sides of your frame. “Loosen up a little,” he ordered, throwing away your blanket and as his arm sneaked around your waist, he pulled you into himself, your back now pressed against his chest.

“Oh god…” you whimpered, shifting your position and wrapping yourself around him. He was hot and it felt like the heat was emitting from him, seeping onto you the moment you made contact with his muscular frame. You pushed your face against his neck, nuzzling your cold nose into his warm skin.

“Aren’t you a greedy little thing?” He commented, putting on an indifferent, snarky mask but inside, he was feeling things. It was odd, it was new. He wasn’t exactly an expert in romantic situations, in fact besides few really brief adventures with women, it was the first time he was actually somewhat intimate. Choso’s mind was in a limbo, trying to fight the thoughts of his body which were going crazy. The way your frame fit so closely to his, the way you turned your face and melted into him… it was almost too much. Thoughts raced around his head a mile a minute.

“Aren’t you a scrooge for letting me freeze while you’re that hot?”

“Well, I’m your partner on the job, not your personal heater,” he shrugged, allowing his hand to run along the curves of your waist and hip. “Also, I’d assume that the low temperature is a natural habitat for a cold bitch like you.”

“Ouch,” you acted hurt but couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “I have a great idea, why don’t you shut up?”

“Oh, did that sting you, princess?”

„I’m serious, you should shut the hell up,” it was a mumble, an unharmful one, but Choso must have gotten a different impression.

It was a flash. It took you few seconds to even register what just happened and once you did, you were already helpless beneath him. The soft, furry carpet now tickling you in the face as Choso kept you, chest down and pinned to the ground. It annoyed you how easily one of his hands kept both of your wrists pushed up above your head. You felt his weight on top of your thighs, his crotch pressed tightly to your ass and his other hand supporting his weight on the wooden floor.

“Now, if you’re gonna act like a brat, I’m gonna treat you as one,” he said, his voice low and close to your ear as he leaned down and gathered some of your hair to the side to uncover your face to his eyes. Your hopeless pulls and wriggles did nothing to loosen up his hold. If anything, his fingers only tightened their grip around your wrists.

“Get off me,” you groaned, trying to find your way out of the situation, but the movements of your body seemed to make it worse. The man hummed darkly, aiming a mean slap at your ass.

“Stop wiggling,” he warned, smirking at the way your body tensed for a moment. He couldn’t tell what’s gotten him into such a playful mood. Maybe it was all the thick air between you two finally exposing its true colors – something once filled with anger and hostility, now crackled with an undeniable sexual tension.

“Did you just slap me?” You couldn’t believe it, but you’d sooner be dead than you’ll admit out loud that it somehow felt good.

“I did,” he said nonchalantly. “You whined you’re cold, huh? Well, guess I’ll have to warm you up for real,” Choso added, now grinning mischievously. “Be a good girl, I know you can do it. Now I’ll let go of your hands and you’ll turn around, yeah?”

You hummed in response, not really sure what’s gotten into him but you were far from minding it so you flipped to your back as soon as he gave you a chance. Still on top of you, Choso kept a controlling grip over your hip, his touch burning your bare skin over there.

The fire crackled and flickered, casting warm, dancing shadows on the two of you but you couldn’t tell if the sparkle in his eyes was a reflection of it or just pure lust. The latter, you thought, catching his gaze as it scanned your form, paying a little more attention to your lips, chest and the little strip of skin that showed from underneath your blouse.

Kamo was enticed by you, fascinated even, by the way his body was suddenly yearning for you. The unusual desire overflown his senses and he found himself inching closer and closer, until he was just one, mere breath away from your mouth. He could feel you gasp, see the look of your eyes and if he wouldn’t know better he would be convinced there was lust in them too.

“Nervous?” He whispered, with a slight shadow of teasing painted all over his stupidly handsome features. His nose, now brushing against yours initiated the touch, a prelude of sorts to what was going to come and Choso chuckled at the lack of response from you. It was, in a way, an opening for you to push him away, to set a boundary, to lay down the consent but you made no effort to do any of that. Instead, you let your fingers to find his hair and once you pulled at them, there was no going back.

His lips pressed into yours. The kiss and the heat from your bodies warmed the cold air around you, melting the icy tension that lingered between you as you, too, melted below him. The time seemed to slow down and the melody of howling wind and fire was now a white noise to the soft sounds and whimpers you were making. Your mouth parted and Choso took the invitation eagerly, running his tongue along your lower lip and reaching yours. They twirled and twisted, danced and explored each other and you swore at the moment that the world around you had fallen away.

It didn’t take long since you were bare, completely exposed underneath his muscular body; the cold air around you a stark contrast to the extreme heat that was coming off of Choso. He was all around you, exploring your shapes with touches so tender, you couldn’t help but feel worshipped. The way he touched you, the way he kissed and drank every inch of your skin made your heart rumble against your ribcage. He went down, tracing the ups and downs of your figure with wet, sloppy stamps of his lips until he reached your thighs – both of which he kissed with as much attention.

It was intoxicating. Kamo felt as if everything around him twirled and he was drowning in the soft feeling of your plush skin. The curves of you filled every bit of his mind. Addicting, you were, so addicting he couldn’t find a strength to pull back and before he knew it, his tongue was already lapping at your clit. The beautiful melody of your moans filling his ears as he worked his mouth over the puffy bud, sucking and licking simultaneously. Waves and waves of pleasure you felt, spreading from your core and reaching every part of you. It was hot, it was like nothing else you’ve ever experienced.

“Oh god, Choso~” you were whining, a surprise to you cause up until this time you would swear you’re not the one to make such lewd noises during sex. All of that went out the window when it came to the man between your legs. He was flicking his tongue, twirling it and pressing it flat; every movement centered and focused, sharing one objective – to abuse the most sensitive, sweet spot on your body. He took his time, it was wet and sloppy, it was messy. The silky sensation of his tongue, warm and soft… oh, man has a talent.

Your breath was stuttering, hands grabbing the fluffy fibers of the carpet as your thighs were trembling and the urge to squeeze them over Choso’s head was slowly becoming irresistible. The way he was making out with your clit drove you insane, it brought you to the edge and pushed you over. You came undone and you came hard. He wasn’t stopping, just slowing down and leading you through the high as if it was his job and the very core of his existence.

“Feeling warmer?” He asked, once slowly coming back up above you. His face was now a real painting, covered with your essence and his lips, swollen and wet, stretched into a grin of satisfaction as he was taking in the sight of your breathless form. You nodded, barely registering the subtle teasing undertone he had in his voice. “Good. But I’m going to make you even hotter.”

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