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landitolover · 5 months

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𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒈𝒐, in which charles isn’t the best boyfriend.. ౨ৎ charles x famous!reader

warnings- toxic charles, cheating, reader is love-dumb… !

y/n 💋

charles what the fuck

tell me it isn’t true??

who is she

cha 🤍

baby it isn’t true

i swear, i love you

she came onto me

y/n 💋

are you sure

cha 🤍

yes, my love

i promise you

y/n 💋

come over?

cha 🤍

i’ll be there in ten

Liked by charles_leclerc, alexademie, maxverstappen1, and 1,092,299 others

yourusername 🤍.

tagged charles_leclerc

View all 6,209 comments

user oh this man has no shame at all 💀

user yn…. 🌝

user girl pls run as fast as u can

user no queen you’re too good for him 😭😭😭😭

user yncharles nation how do we feel

→ user uhm TERRIBLE

→ user poor girl ☹️

→ user nah she definitely knows.

charles_leclerc mon coeur 🩶.

→ user …..

→ user he gave me the eww…

alexademie gorgeous 🤍

→ alexademie he’s there too ig…

→ yourusername 🫶🏻 ily

landonorris 🤨🤨

→ user even lando confused 😭

→ user bro keep charles in line

→ alex_albon me too lando…

lilymhe my girl 🤍🤍

→ yourusername 👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻

maxverstappen1 pretty :)

→ yourusername thank you

→ user SHOOT YO SHOT MAX!!

→ user mr steal your girl 🙏🏼 save her

lilyrose_depp 😍😍

landito

yn are you okay

y/n

uh, yeah? why

alexander albon.

be so fr

charles???

y/n

it was nothing, she came onto him

he loves me guys

landito

whatever you say, yn..

alexander albon.

stay safe queen!

Liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lilymhe, alexademie and 1,249,298 others

yourusername paris

tagged charles_leclerc

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user this is so sad seeing how much she loves him

→ user fr and he’s out there cheating ????

user babe he hasn’t posted u in months why are you still posting him!!! 😭😭

user u are better than this queen 😪

user OPEN UR EYES BITCH

user she’s so strong

→ user not strong enough to leave him :///

landonorris sooo cute 😃

→ user i can hear the sarcasm

→ user LMFAOO

alex_albon yeah stay away from paris…

→ user SPEAK UR TRUTH KING

charles_leclerc ❤️

y/n 💋

chaaa, do you wanna come over?

cha 🤍

I can’t

sorry, chérie.

i’m out with friends

y/n 💋

nono it’s fine

have fun!

i love you ❤️

Read 20:22

Liked by alex_albon, lilymhe, charles_leclerc, landonorris and 1,293,293 others

yourusername time away!! with my favorites 🫶🏻

tagged lilymhe, alex_albon

View all 4,199 comments

user break up with your bf now xx

user too pretty for him

user 🙏🏼 a weekend without ch*rles

landonorris glad to see it!

→ yourusername 😃

lilymhe IT WAS SO FUN HANGING WITH U ❤️

→ yourusername 🤍🤍 love you sm

alex_albon i look gross in that pic

→ georgerussell63 nothing new mate

charles_leclerc so pretty mon amore

→ user the audacity this man has

→ user 🤺🤺🤺

Liked by lilymhe, alex_albon, landonorris, and 29 others

yourprivate when he’s making out with yet another girl 😂! idk what happened because i tried giving him my all 😂😂

View all 8 comments

lilymhe leave him please

→ yourprivate 😂😂 I can’t

lilymhe i don’t want u to be even more sad ☹️

alex_albon FUCK MEN!!!!

landonorris yn u are better than this

→ yourprivate am i though…

georgerussell63 he don’t know what to do with allat!!

→ lilymhe fr!! yn is too good for his ass

y/n 💋

what’s her name.

cha 🤍

what?

y/n 💋

her name

the girl you were kissing, charles

cha 🤍

baby

i was drunk

y/n 💋

don’t ‘baby’ me

and you WERENT drunk charles

what did i do wrong?

cha 🤍

nothing i swear

y/n 💋

I must’ve done something wrong

if you cheated on me TWICE

you probably cheated more than that.

cha 🤍

fine then, i just got bored of you

is that what you wanted to hear?

that i just stopped loving you?

because that’s what happened.

y/n 💋

fuck you charles

i knew I shouldn’t have dated you

I should’ve listened to everyone who told me to leave you.

cha 🤍

you should’ve 🤷

but you didn’t

You have blocked this contact

yourusername • 1 hour ago

maxverstappen1 replied to your story

maxverstappen1

hey, sorry about the break up

charles never deserved you though.

Seen just now

౨ৎ some crazy shit forreal 😭😭🙏🏼🙏🏼 now me personally i could never take charles back (why am i lying)… okay anyways i hope you enjoyed this 🐨🐌🤍

requested by my wife @landovilla ily 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 ౨ৎ

#𓇼 landitolover #꩜ my writings #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 x reader #female reader #smau #angst #toxic #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 x y/n

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mari-the-bimbo · 6 months

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Gojo’s Satoru’s obsession

A/N: Some yummy content for our glorious king 🙏👑

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, unprotected sex, age gap implied

Gojo Satoru was obsessed with you from the moment he laid his icy blue eyes on you. He knew he needed you, in a way he couldn’t explain, you were made for him, he could feel it. Fantasies of spoiling you, kissing you and touching you forever played on his mind.

So once you finally gave the business tycoon a chance, he wasted no time making his admiration known. You haven’t been dating for long but you sure knew how he felt about you through his touchy ways.

“So how was college today princess?” He says casually, as if his tall 6’3 figure isn’t towering over you, making you hyper aware of the size difference.

You both sat on his leather sofa in his large monochromatic living room. A dim light from the crystal lamp that glowed amber.

“Oh it was okay” you manage to say with a smile. His long pale finger twirling strands of your hair, “oh yeah?” He purrs with a devious smile, as he watches your poor attempt to keep your composure, he knew his sweet girl wouldn’t last long though. Not when you’re already blushing and squirming in your seat.

He leans in closer and takes off his sunglasses as if to create more tension, before asking “you didn’t miss me too much did you?”

Trick question, he was setting you up, either answer leads to a dangerous territory.

However you couldn’t deny his scheming flirty ways and the authority he had over you didn’t turn you on. You tear your gaze away from his entrancing eyes and fiddle with his shirt, “um well..”

“Y/n~” he sings your name out when you don’t answer.

His bulge now pressing against you, you gasp from the sudden contact but that doesn’t stop him from grinding against your clothed pussy painfully slow. You feel the hardness cause friction between your sensitive area until you had a wet patch exposing your desire. You hear a stifled laugh from Gojo as he reaches down to play with the wet material. Pervert.

Suddenly you find yourself dry humping him too, chasing that delicious feeling it gave you. He smiles widely at your contorted face, eyes closed, gosh you’re so cute when he has you like this.

“Oh Gojo…” you sigh

“Say it”

“I missed you too much!” You gasp as your hands weakly attempt to pull his grey sweatpants down.

“Hey hey slow down princess, I’ll take them off for you okay? You know I’d never deny you anything right?” He says, with a soft chuckle. You nod your head in agreement.

And so as you hold eye contact with his intense gaze on you, his hands travel down, pulling down his sweatpants and boxers at once, exposing his girthy cock, pre cum glistening at his pink tip.

He gives it a few pumps with his own hand, and all you could do is stare in awe before he placed his cock into your own trembling hand, much to your surprise.

“Your turn” he says with a flirty wink, and you blink a few times, before getting to work. You knew the drill, if you wanted him inside you, you need to work for it.

Your much smaller hands pumped his now wet cock, smearing more wetness along the length, the cold feeling of the diamond bracelet he bought you touches his skin, causing him to shiver in pleasure. His hands were still entangled in your head as he let out a strangled moan. “Oh you’re so good to me y/n, such a good girl for me” he whispered.

“You deserve it don’t you?” He asks. And you know what he’s referring to. “Yeah”

“Take it off then”

Upon command, you waste no time leaving his length to undress yourself, taking off your panties to welcome him. He has a content smile as he watches you adoringly, hands behind his head.

Once you’re finally undressed, Gojo grabs you by the hips and pulls you to him to line his tip up with your folds.

Now it was a harmonious team effort of moans between you and Gojo, both immediately lost in pleasure as he pushes his length into you after promising to only ‘start with the tip’’ liar, he knew he didn’t have such self control when it came to you.

The power of his thrusts rocks your hips back and forth. At some point your screams of his name overtakes his loud moans from when you grab the white strands of his hair in desperation. Your back arches in pleasure but Gojo is quick to press you back down with just one hand.

“Can’t miss me when I’m buried inside you yeah?” He rasps as his pace quickens and you knew you were close.

You’re unable to respond as you become a whimpering mess, responding with nothing but another scream as your vision blurs. He moans as he feels his own high too, “yes yes yes that’s it, yes!” pressing himself closer to you into a mating press as you both cum, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as he releases his hot white cream into you with a lewd moan.

Your chest heaves from the aftermath. But your strong, older boyfriend holds you in his warm embrace. You wrap your arms around his neck, letting him press flat against you as you both catch your breath.

Once you finally escape the euphoria, you look up from Gojo’s chest to see him already staring at you with a lovesick smile. How could someone hold so much love for you after only knowing you for a while?

“Such a sweet girl” he praises as he strokes your cheek with his thumb, jokingly booping your nose just after to make you laugh.

“Forget college tomorrow, spend some time with me instead okay?“ he says pressing a kiss to your cheek as you scoff knowing damn well you won’t be able to walk tomorrow anyways.

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elenamegan14 · 7 months

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One Piece Imagine: F!Reader giving a Victory Smooch to Monster Trio

Luffy

Luffy did not see himself as a hero. He is a pirate, and he never shares especially food. But boy, the rage he felt when he saw that terrible Marine captain stole the food that you have painstakingly tried to keep - nobody has the right to starve anyone on HIS watch!

So you truly fall for him when he and his crew return with a wagon of fruits, veggies, all the finest delicacies he can offer... and a very beaten up corrupt Marine captain on his feet. The villagers were more than grateful to be freed from that jerk, especially you.

After giving that Marine a well-deserved kick on the nuts before handing him to the ACTUAL authority, you came up to Luffy with a plate of his favorite meat on the bones and told him that he deserved a reward for helping her. He gratefully accepts it... but not before you gave him a gentle peck on his cheek, "My hero." Luffy is annoyed that you are interrupting his meal. Also, he is not a hero, damn it! But he is still grateful for the reward. Meanwhile, Sanji is fuming about the background of why Luffy always gets the good part of the reward.

"Shishishishi! You're welcome! But I want more meat instead of kisses!"

Zoro

You're gonna need a lot of cold showers when Zoro saves you. because the way he saves you is actually hoooooot.

Oceans in Grand Line are stupidly dangerous. Freaky weather and monsters will always come when you least expect it. So it really kind of surprised you when the crew got ambushed by a giant Sea King.

A very vicious, pissed-off Sea King.

Its battle with it can be described as near-death and brutal. The crew had a lot of close calls, but it was when its jaws almost closed on you that Zoro got to work.

A couple of swishes from his blade, followed by an intense "ONI GIRI!" battle cry had turned that Sea King into a seafood fillet fit to feed as Luffy's dinner. It was vicious, it was professional. IT WAS HOT.

When Zoro came to check on you, you had to fan yourself really hard because, WOW. How does that muscle of his work again? And how hard his teeth are? Zoro did not have time to react before your lips descended on him, catcalls and cheers from the crew (and a furious rant from Sanji) accompanied the scene. "My hero~" you purred.

The normally serious Zoro became incredibly flustered, annoyed, and sorta impressed by your reward. He never expected this turn of events, promising you that he will need more than that in the bedroom.

"Oi, OI! Really? Ah, damn it. All in a day's work I guess. Seriously, what was that?"

Sanji

The day you're engaged to the most violent and sexist man is the day Sanji saved you. Your noble parents sold you off to the most notoriously rich man, who is known for his brutish "manly" treatment of women. To them, it was discipline. But to you and the other poor women, he is hell.

Enter Sanji. He has been on the island for a few days and he already heard plenty of horror stories about the future groom of yours. So he did what a pirate should do - crash into the party with the crew and humiliate your father and groom with the knowledge of wine and food.

Your ex-fiance's luck ran out when he slapped you halfway across the room when you tried to stop him from jeopardizing the guests' safety. Gone is the suave Sanji - he only sees a man who DARES to hurt a lady and brags about it - oh, he won't get away with it. One Diable Jambe Concasse later, Sanji left the terrified household and one horribly hurt unconscious fiancee, carrying you in his arms.

When you're already in a safe space, Sanji asks if you're okay... only to be met with a barrage of kisses on his face and a large one of his lips. Never had you felt so grateful, so much in love with Sanji. "My hero! Thank you so, SO, much!"

There was a happy, sheepish grin, lots of "mellorine!" and blood spurts from the nose before Sanji replied joyfully with "You're welcome, milady!" And then he would ask if there is more to come from your reward.

He nearly went to heaven when you slyly said yes.

"HA! You see that?! I am a hero! Yes, I am! Mr. Prince is here to save the ladies's day from danger! Ahaha! I am always here to serve you any time, Y/N-chwaaan!"

Please reply if you would like to suggest more scenarios like this with other characters!

#one piece #one piece headcanon #one piece imagine #One piece fanfic #one piece x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #monkey d. luffy #monkey d luffy #luffy x reader #reader imagine #Roronoa Zoro #Zoro #Sanji #Luffy #monster trio #monster trio headcanon #monster trio imagine

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greyskyflowers · 8 months

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Zoro being just a little desperate for soft affection because people don't touch him gently. He's not something people handle with care or touch with careful intentions.

He's a swordsman

The first mate of the future pirate king and a god

A strawhat pirate

He doesn't mind it, because you can't miss something you don't really know, but sometimes he gets hints of it. Like Chopper taking care of his injuries or Robin's hands brushing against him as she hands him something. The others don't touch gently. They're pirates, liars, thieves and fighters.

It's hard to be gentle on the sea.

Luffy's too strong for his own good

Sanji's alway eager to pick a fight

Nami's not very familiar with gentleness herself

Usopp's too unsure

Franky doesn't trust himself

Brook doesn't think he's capable of it anymore

Zoro deserves gentle sometimes though, when he's more white bandages than tan skin or when he smells like blood rather than salt.

Sometimes he looks very breakable for how unbreakable he is.

There are times he looks soft, only with them.

When he lets himself wake up slowly, silver eye still cloudy with sleep and everything about him sleep ruffled and soft.

Or when he speaks with Chopper, letting his body loosen from a stricter hold and creating a welcoming atmosphere that always has Chopper climbing into his lap or dancing happily.

Always when he takes care of his swords, each movement done without too much thought after years of repetition. A critical eye looking them over before moving to the next, handled with a care that looks like it should be unnatural to a man like Zoro.

He goes sweet for them.

Looking as surprised as they do when he surges towards the gentle affection like he can't stop himself.

💙

Luffy throwing his arm around Zoro's shoulders, and touching, thoughtless and confident because he knows Zoro won't pull away. His fingers playing with earrings, petting at soft hair and brushing against skin.

Zoro can't help the little, protesting noise that slips out when it stops.

Luffy looks at him with a blank expression and observing eyes, the face he wears when he's serious about something. He returns his hand to the side of Zoro's neck and it's so careful, fingers caressing against his neck in little brushes and it has him melting.

Luffy's incredibly pleased because Zoro is such a warm, happy weight against his side, all loose limbed and practically purring.

He looks vulnerable and sleepy in a way that has a bubble of something growing in Luffy's chest. It threatens to choke him, his throat tight with it and his heart beating weird. He just keeps petting with confident but gentle touches.

Zoro buries his face in his shoulder and it knocks the wind out of his lungs. He wants to move, energy popping under his skin in happiness but he stays still. The arms he wraps around Zoro to drag him closer, half on his lap and still not close enough, are gentle.

💙

Sanji trying to figure out the best way to get Zoro back to the crew after a battle. Hovering because everywhere looks bruised and bloody, seriously it's like he tries to get cut up during his fights.

Finally getting him up enough that he can climb on Sanji's back and they'll try that way.

Zoro's lighter than he looks, they all know that but it's always a little surprising. He's quick on his feet, has used half the crew as spring boards for a push off in fights and he definitely wouldn't be able to do that so easily if he weighed what he looks.

He's a warm weight against Sanji's back and the cook can feel his thighs from where he's got his hands placed for support, they have a healthy layer of fat covering the muscle.

He's embarrassed by the pleased feeling he gets from that. The idea that Zoro is healthy and taken care of because of him is powerful. He's very proud of how the crew looks healthy and strong, nothing about them that suggests hunger or poor nutrition.

He brushes his thumb back and forth in a gentle way, briefly wishing he felt skin instead of fabric, before very quickly shoving that thought into a little box and placing it all the way to the back of his mind.

Zoro relaxes into him, body pressing heavier as he stops tensing up and his chin digging into Sanji's shoulder. He looks exhausted but his breathing has calmed and he almost looks like he could fall asleep.

Sanji just tugs him more securely against his back, desperately ignoring the way Zoro's legs tightens around his waist at the movement and how his chest pressing against Sanji's back has his nose itching. Zoro relaxes again and Sanji goes back to rubbing his thumbs back and forth, gentle and comforting.

💙

100% based on the ideas that:

Luffy just casually touches, hugs, climbs on, etc the crew whenever he wants because they're his.

Sanji is very proud that the crew looks healthy and strong, knowing it's because he's the one making their food.

Zoro being a strange type of touch starved that has him unconsciously giving off cat vibes of please pet me and I'm sorry if I get overwhelmed and bite.

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dalishious · 3 months

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Alistair vs. Cullen

It really annoys me when people act like Alistair and Cullen are the same character, when they are very different.

Alistair grew up with child neglect. When visiting Denerim, Eamon kept him in the kennels. At Redcliffe, he slept in the stables on a pile of hay. Alistair also recounts a time when he was locked in the dungeons for a day before someone came to get him out. And of course he also talks about how Isolde despised him, and “made sure the castle wasn't a home.” But is still convinced that Eamon is a good person and he deserved all that. Cullen had a very fortunate upbringing with a loving family who supported him and what he wanted in life.

Alistair never wanted to be a Templar; he was forced into joining the Order by Eamon. He is vocal about how much he despised this, and considers Duncan recruiting him for the Wardens as “saving” him from them. The only thing he says he enjoyed about Templar training was the educational component, which he did not receive previously. Alistair was a poor recruit because he frankly did not want to be there, and therefore did not take it very seriously. He saw practices like the Harrowing as horrifying, and deepened his dislike of being a Templar further. And as time goes on, he becomes even less of a supporter of the Order; he outright says Meredith is the biggest threat to Kirkwall in Dragon Age II, if made king of Ferelden. It was always Cullen’s dream to be a Templar, and would even force his younger sister to “play the apostate” for his “training” before being recruited. Cullen was an enthusiastic recruit who considered Templar training “all that he had imagined”, and “did not hesitate” in taking his vows. Even the Harrowing did not waver his devotion to the Order, which by Dragon Age II becomes downright fanatical and tyrannical, practically worshipping Meredith. (Though this was later attempted to be retconned in Dragon Age: Inquisition… just as poorly as all the other retcons in that game, taking the path of “just pretend he never said and did all those things!”)

There is a lot of dialogue from Alistair about how much he dislikes the Chantry. Cullen, on the other hand, is extremely faithful and the only criticism he ever has about the Chantry is that they don’t treat the Templars well enough.

Alistair has a good sense of humour—in fact, it’s one of his biggest coping mechanisms. Cullen wouldn’t know a joke if it hit him in the face.

The player can disagree with Alistair on every turn. He is presented as sometimes being right, and sometimes being wrong, like most people. (Side note: more than that, you can be downright verbally, emotionally, and physically abusive to Alistair. Holy shit, I didn’t even realize how bad it can get until reading through the dialogue in the toolset, because I’ve never picked those options in game. I was honest to god flabbergasted and very uncomfortable through much of it.) The player rarely has the chance to even mildly disagree with Cullen. On the rare occasion you do, the dialogue is painted as if the player is being an unreasonable asshole, and he never even addresses what they say. (Example.)

The only reason I think people are capable of mistaking them for another is because fandom likes to donate Alistair’s personality onto Cullen. That and the the ever-frequent whitewashing of Alistair doesn’t help matters. But I’m not even a Cullen fan and I think it’s a disservice to both of them to act like they’re just Alistair and Alistair 2.0, honestly.

#alistair theirin #anti cullen #dragon age #meta

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velocesainz · 2 months

Text

Le reali

(CS55)

F1 masterlist | main masterlist

summary: Carlos hasn't publicly dated anyone in over 3 years and people get suspicious. He tries to tell his friends that he's dating the heiress of Italy but they don't believe him until a special moment.

Warnings: None, cursing?, fluffy

Pairing: Carlos x Italian!princess!reader

Carlos showed the entire text chain to y/n and as she scrolled through the responses bursted into laughter at lando's response to Carlos.

"Love, I wasn't pissed. I was just annoyed that he was feeding into rumours. Poor Lando must've been scared out of his wits" y/n told Carlos.

Carlos chuckled "Lando deserves to be scared out of his wits from time to time darling. How else would he function effectively and not spill our secret in front of the entire world?" he told y/n

"I guess you're right" y/n laughed.

"Amore?" Carlos called out to y/n

"Si, Corázon?" Y/n replied adjusting in the bed to meet his eye.

"Do you ever want to go public? I mean I'm not forcing you to go public, just asking. We've been together for 3 years now" Carlos asked with a thoughtful and soft expression on his face.

"Of course Corázon, I would love to. Do you want to maybe go public on the day of the Monza GP? I've already gotten an invite and will be giving out the trophies" y/n replied with a soft smile.

"That would be absolutely wonderful amore" Carlos said softly and held her close.

Timeskip:

"Ready to go sis?" y/n's brother asked her as it was time to leave for the GP

She was only going to go for the race day otherwise it would seem suspicious to the public and they wanted to be extra careful.

"Yea yeah let's go" Y/n called out grabbing her brothers hand and getting into the car.

She was more than ready to reveal to the world her relationship with the love of her life

Meanwhile: (Carlos Pov)

"Mate is your girlfriend ever going to come or are you just pranking us all?" Charles asked me while everyone was waiting around in the paddock for y/n to come.

"Yea mate, no shame in saying you haven't been able to get girls for the past 3 years. At least don't live in the delusion that the direct heir to the Italian throne is your girlfriend."

Nobody believed me except Lando since he's met her but everyone thinks me and him are pranking them together.

I would get my sweet sweet revenge.

But deep down I was scared. I was planning to propose to her soon. If I got on the podium today, I would propose and I've never been more scared for a race in my life.

Her entire family would watch me race for their country and would also find out about our relationship because she was very private and didn't share even with her family. Would they approve of me? Would they force me and her to break up?

Just then her family walked into the paddock and everyone immediately stood up and greeted the family but she was not in sight.

"So Prince b/n how do you feel about your sister dating our friend over here?" Fernando asked her brother and dragged me into his view

"Dating? I wasn't aware that my sister was dating anyone. That too with a commoner? Not expected." Her brother replied and my heart slowly sank to my stomach.

The rest of the grid came up to me.

"See Carlos? How would you be dating Prince y/b/n's sister without him knowing? Stop living in your delusion" Max said

"Mate such delusion isn't good for you at all. You should start seeing the team therapist a little more" Charles added.

The rest of the grid exchanged glances of amusement and worry while Lando came over to me.

"Don't worry Carlos, I believe you. Don't listen to them. You and Y/n have a beautiful relationship and she told me that she didn't want to inform her brother of her relationship status since she, frankly, hates him" Lando told me and I felt slightly better.

but her brother didn't approve of me, why would the rest of her family? I was internally panicking when Y/n's father King f/n came up to me and took me aside

"So you're the lad dating my daughter huh?" He asked me

"Si señor, I love Y/n with all my heart" I responded slightly nervous about his response

"She made a good choice, how long have you both been together? She didn't give me many details" He asked

"We've been together for 3 years senor. We met when I was invited to the royal house for my medal" I replied feeling better that at least her father approved of us

"And no proposal?" He said with a smirk on his face

"I was planning on proposing to her if I get on the podium for the race today and also wanted your blessings señor" I answered

"Good good. I've seen that she's been much happier around the palace ever since she started dating you. She truly loves you and you have mine and her mother's blessing. May you both be forever happy together" with that he left as I the race was about to start.

I gave Ricciardo my ring box and gave him all the instructions before getting into the car.

After the race:

I couldn’t believe it.

I had won in Monza.

The crowd was going absolutely wild as I got out of my car and the mechanics lined up outside tapping my helmet congratulating me.

I felt like I was in a dream.

I looked over to the vip box and I saw y/n in all her glory.

The look of admiration she had and her soft smile made me fall for her all over again.

That was when I knew nothing else mattered.

It didn’t matter to me that her brother didn’t approve of our relationship. It didn’t matter to me that my friends didn’t believe my relationship.

I had her and that was all that mattered.

The podium ceremony came quickly and y/n’s brother gave out the p2 and p3 trophies.

Then came my turn and y/n walked into the podium with the most elegant red dress I’ve ever seen.

She looked absolutely ethereal and I couldn’t wait for her to be mine forever.

She handed me the trophy and I raised it over my head after which I leaned in to kiss her.

The crowd went absolutely wild when they saw the scene.

I took the ring box from Ricciardo and got on one knee and I saw tears welling up in her eyes.

“Y/n. You have made me the happiest person these past 3 years and it would mean the world to me if you were with me for the rest of my life. Y/n m/n l/n will you marry me?” I asked her pouring the emotions out.

“Yes Carlos! Of course I’ll marry you” she said and hugged me tight.

I slipped the ring on her finger and we kissed once again.

Timeskip:

“Hey Carlos, sorry about all the comments we passed. We really couldn’t believe that you were actually in a relationship with the princess of Italy. We apologise for our actions” Charles apologised to me on behalf of the rest of the grid

“It’s ok mate, I myself can’t believe that I bagged a literal princess” I laughed

Y/n came back to me and it was time for us to leave.

In the car y/n sat leaning her head against my shoulder

“Our wedding is going to be one of the most celebrated occasions in Italy you know? They’re going to keep it as a national holiday and it will be broadcasted live on tv for everyone to see. Are you sure you’re ok with that?” She asked me in a soft voice

“Of course amore , as long as in the end I get to be with you. I’m ready to do anything.”

A/n: hope you guys enjoyed this fic. Took me a while to come up with it. Would appreciate feedback and suggestions. Also please send me any requests you have! Kissies ✨

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charlie-lec-stories · 4 months

Text

Drama King // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: Already used to Max's shenanigans, Y/N finds out that Charles with the flu can be quite a challenge.

Warnings: None, this is fluff, fluff and even more fun. (Only one paragraph about homophobic Jos Verstappen)

Author’s Note: Gees, there's nothing worse than a guy with the flu. Also, there's a little introduction of Max and Y/N's parents and the relationship they have with their children. Rate: PG

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

She was used to Max being a drama queen, after so many years being friends, she already knew how he could turn a minimal problem into a world-ending alarm. His computer froze for 5 seconds? It was probably broken. He couldn't find his phone? He probably lost it forever. He was hungry? He couldn't function until he ate. She had fun with that, because Max's little drama stunts were never something that came without a good laugh for her. She would watch him run around the room looking for his phone, or quickly throwing a tantrum when his computer'd go slower than he'd like it. Charles was a lot more composed, which was also funny because he was the one that go into serious trouble more often. He set his dinner on fire? It wasn't that bad, he's not afraid of fire. He's at the police station because he tried to jump the fence when he forgot his keys? Just a little inconvenience and he made new friends! He hurt his hand trying to fix the toaster he just broke? Well, he has a lot more blood in his body, nothing to worry about. Sometimes she wished that Charles would take the bizarre situations he got himself into a little more seriously.

But she takes that wish back, dear God, she takes that back.

It all started with winter break, they were off season and they had been together for a year now, their first anniversary on the 26th of December. Charles, who loved to spoil his partners, decided that they deserved a week for themselves, before they all had to part for New Year's celebrations with their respective families. Plus, they knew that Max was less than happy to have to spend the holiday with his father, so the idea of chilling together, somewhere away from the world was more than appealing. The Monegasque made a reservation at a very private cabin complex, where they could be alone in the middle of nowhere, in Germany. From the 25th at night all the way to the 31st at noon, they would turn off their phones and ignore the rest of the world. Max was more than happy for that, he needed to recharge batteries before facing his father, and Y/N knew that this little trip was perfect for her to sleep all the hours she missed that season. It was the perfect plan, and it went amazing. They relaxed in the woods, lit a bond-fire, swam on the lake, and the cabin even had a jacuzzi, which they used every day. But, when they finally went back to reality on the 31st, happy memories weren't the only thing that Charles brought back home with him.

"Tu es pâle, mon garçon". (You look pale, my boy). Pascale, Charle's mother, said when he arrived at her door for New Year's dinner.

"Je vais bien, ne t'inquiète pas, Maman". (I'm fine, don't worry, Mom). She wasn't convinced, and she was proven right when Charles started coughing in the middle of their meal. The poor man started his new year with a fever.

Arthur called Lando, who made up an excuse and called Max. The Red Bull driver was supposed to spend a week with his father, Jos, the two of them going on a "healing" trip to "help Max outgrow his queerness". The moment he got the call from Lando about "Sassy being sick", he canceled his plans with his father and flew back to Monaco. His father was more than displeased with that, and didn't believe a thing his son told him, but he decided to keep his thoughts to himself. He had an already difficult relationship with his father, coming out as having two partners and having to tell him that they were his rivals was not something he needed to do at the moment. Jos Verstappen hated Y/N with passion, and it was a mutual feeling. He believed that the girl wanted to distract Max on purpose, to take advantage of that on the races. He also believed that she was trying to get into Max's pants to "trap him" with a kid. But, he would rather have her as his daughter in law than a man. He had never been as mad as when he discovered that Max was bisexual, the idea of having his son dating another man was his worst nightmare. He made it his life goal to "cure" Max and his son knew that if his father ever knew that Max was skipping his trip with him for Charles, he would straight up force Max into an asylum. Jos disliked Charles the most, after Lewis Hamilton, so if he didn't like the idea of Max dating a man, he would probably lose it with the fact that he was dating Charles.

Max made it back to Monte Carlo on January 2nd, but he called Y/N to let her know that he could take care of Charles and she should enjoy her time with her family. She had a big one, and she didn't get to see them much, he didn't want her to miss that chance. He could deal with Charles for a week, how hard could it be? She thanked him and let him know that she could fly back if he ever needed her, but he assured her that they would be alright. At the airport, he was welcomed by Lando, who coincidentally came back home from England to prepare everything for his New Year's party, a tradition he started two years prior and that was the most awaited event of the grid. The brit offered Max a ride and, together, they made their way towards the apartment that Max shared with his partners. Lando lived just a block away and offered to help out if he and Charles needed anything. He also let Max know that Oscar, Alex and George were flying to Monaco on the 4th, to help him out with the party, so there were going to be some extra hands. Max felt grateful, even if his father was not there for him, he had his grid family that loved him for who he was.

"Charlie? I'm home!". He called out when he opened the door. Usually, Charles would drop whatever he was doing to greet him and ask about his day. He was an active listener and enjoyed asking people things, but this time he was greeted by the faint sound of a cough and the pets, Pete, Charles' golden retriever, and his two cats. He dropped everything he had in hand and quickly walked to the bedroom followed by Pete. "Hey, Poepie, how are you feeling?". (Sweetie),

"I think I'm dying". Max had to actively do an effort to suppress his laugh. Charles was on the bed, the blanket up to his neck and his voice was barely over a whisper, but he was definitely not dying.

"I think you're doing pretty well!". Max said with a smile and sat on the bed next to Charles, but he pushed Max away. Pete jumped on the bed.

"Don't get close!". He yelled as loud as he could and then coughed again. "You'll get sick too and this is a nightmare".

"Charlie, it's only the flu. I'm Dutch, I'm used to cold weather and never get sick". He placed his hand on Charles' forehead and noticed that his boyfriend was burning up. "Don't worry about me".

"At least you got away from your dad". Charles said as he did the best he could to sit up. Max helped him a bit.

"Yeah, your stuffy nose definitely saved me from that". Charles smiled, his eyes shining in a mix of sadness and fever. He hated Jos for everything he put Max through.

"I'm your knight in shining armor, even when I'm sick". Max laughed out loud and Charles followed, but started coughing again.

"Okay, Sir Charles, let's make you some tea to warm up that throat".

The first night was terrible, Max didn't sleep, not even one second, Charles turning around and whimpering all night, uncomfortable and bothered by the fever. He was cold and hot, all at the same time, so he was pulling at the sheets constantly. Max wanted nothing more than to go to sleep on the couch, but he couldn't leave Charles alone. He turned the Monegasque around and spooned him to keep him from moving too much. They slept through the morning hours, until the pets woke them up asking to be fed. Max got up at lunch time to feed them and make some soup for Charles. He had two big black spots under his eyes and every now and then, a yawn would escape his mouth. Y/N texted him, asking about Charles and how he spent the night. Max didn't want her to worry, so he told her that Charles slept like a baby. It wasn't exactly a lie, never specified which type of baby, he slept like a possessed baby. Charles' fever went down through the day, but he still felt like he didn't have any strength. The medication was doing its magic, but he was probably going to get a fever again at night. And Max was right, Charles' fever came back the second night, sentencing Max to another sleepless night.

"If I die, I leave my sim to Y/N and my underwear to you". Charles told him at 3 am as they were cuddling. Max snorted, almost offended.

"I'm the one taking care of you and I get the underwear while she gets the sim?". Charles looked up at him in the dark, his eyes narrowed. "Make your own soup tomorrow, traitor".

"My underwear it's all Ferrari!". Max already knew that. "It's really important to me. I don't know what you're complaining for".

"It's a good thing you're not dying". Max chuckled and they fell silent for a few minutes.

"If I die and you don't wear that underwear, I'm haunting your ass". And he knew that Charles meant every word.

On the 4th, Lando called Max to let him know that the boys had arrived and offered to stop by and help out a bit. Charles was in a good mood, after Max promised to use the Ferrari underwear if he died, meaning that the visit was a good way to keep up his good spirits. While they waited for their friends to arrive, Max called Y/N to give her an update. She scolded him for refusing to wear the Ferrari briefs, and then she thanked him again for taking care of Charles all on his own. She was convinced that it was an easy task, Max was the drama king after all, but she was grateful anyways. Max decided not to tell her how much of a pain in the ass Charles could be, he would rather have her believing everything was alright. He took Pete out for a quick walk and then went to feed his little demons again, Sassy and Jimmy already planning on eating Charles if he let another minute pass without feeding them. Lando arrived with Oscar, George and Alex, and they all ran to the bedroom to say hi to Charles, but he had a fever again, and what they found was anything but festive.

"You look like shit". Lando said without thinking, and Max hit the back of his head.

"You don't, Charlie". But the Monegasque was already mentally writing his will.

"It's okay, dying must be the only thing that doesn't look good on me". Max rolled his eyes.

"We should help you get better". Oscar added, willing to help. The other three looked at him with their noses scrunched.

"I think we're all more useful at a safe distance". Alex looked around the room as he made the comment, looking for a place he could sit down and not get too close to Charles.

"It's just the flu, stop acting like he's got a deadly disease". But they all ignored Max as Oscar organized them to cover all of Charles' needs.

"Alex, you'll make the food. George, you'll bring Jimmy and Sassy, since Pete's already here. Lando, you'll pick a movie. I will gather all the blankets I can find. And Max...". Oscar looked at him, unsure of what Max could do. "You'll comfort him, but please, keep it decent".

"I'm not doing that while you guys are here". Max said, annoyed.

"Just making sure!". Lando laughed as he remembered the situation in the hotel room.

Oscar's plan was kind of chaotic, as always. While Max laid on the bed with his sick boyfriend, he could hear Alex fighting with the kitchen, George chased the cats around the house and Oscar opened every closet in the apartment looking for blankets. To add to that, Lando just couldn't pick a movie, going through all the streaming platforms and genres. Charles still acted as if he was dying and even though Max loved every person in that house, he was too sleep deprived to tolerate the chaos. After an hour, George walked in with Sassy and Jimmy, his shirt covered in holes and wearing kitchen gloves. He placed the cats on top of Charles and they both snuggled on his chest, purring and relaxing against their Papa. Max looked at George worried, as the brit just kept a wary eye on the cats. He couldn't help but chuckle at the situation, Sassy and Jimmy were the most loving cats in the world, but they loved to drive people crazy. Alex brought to the room the worst soup Max had ever tasted, but Charles was so sick that he couldn't even taste anything, so it wasn't a problem. Oscar placed all the blankets on top of Charles and, even though Max thought Lando would never pick anything, he actually did, and they all sat in the room to watch it together. Charles was finally asleep after 30 minutes and Max had never felt more relieved.

Around 6 pm they all left and Max took the pets to their beds. Pete slept on a pretty fancy bed that Charles had brought for him, it had Ferrari's emblem all over it, still, the dog loved his Red Bull toy, no matter how many times Charles took it away from him. Max gave Pete the toy and the dog curled up on his bed, ready to sleep, hugging the toy. Jimmy and Sassy had high beds, ones that Max had attached to the wall so they could sleep as up high as possible. He told them to go to bed, in Dutch, since it was the only language they understood, and they both obeyed instantly. If there was something that Max loved about their pets was how well behaved they were, George might not agree with that, but that seemed like George-problem to Max. After everyone was on their beds, Max went back to his room and lied next to Charles, his little snores making Max smile. Maybe they could finally sleep for a few hours. But they didn't. Charles' fever came back and he started moving around again. At some point, Max even heard him crying.

"Charles, are you okay?". Max asked as he turned Charles around to look at him and see if he could find what was hurting. "Does anything hurt?".

"I don't know!". Charles said, already done with being sick. "I just feel like shit and I'm tired and my head hurts... and... and my throat is sore!". Charles complained in between sobs. "And my nose is so stuffed! I just want to feel better and do my things, like training and going out. And I miss Y/N too".

"Charlie, it's okay". Max tried to comfort him, ignoring his own tiredness as best as he could. "Be patient, you'll feel better soon. I promise".

But Charles kept turning around all night again, coughing, mumbling, sighing loudly, blowing his nose. Max was close to losing it. There is so much time one can spend not sleeping and Max was close to his breaking point. At 4 in the morning, he got up and decided to call Y/N. She was in Buenos Aires, so it would be around midnight there, she was definitely up, no one slept early in Argentina. He felt terrible calling her to complain about their boyfriend, but Max just couldn't take it anymore, he needed to sleep and their friends were too loud and energetic to actually help. He confirmed that the day before. So she was his last resort. He sat on the toilet with the lid down, looking at his phone and re-thinking about calling her or not. She was having fun, spending some time with her family, people she missed all year round, he didn't feel comfortable ruining that, but he didn't know what to do. He heard Charles cough from the room and dialed his girlfriend's number. It rang a few times, then, he was met with the sound of music and people speaking loudly.

"Hey, Maxie, it's everything alright?". She greeted him. He could hear her friends mocking her, saying "Maxie" over and over again, her grandmother scolding them, and Y/N laughing at the situation. "Wait! It's like 4 am there. Max, is Charles alright?".

"YES". He quickly reassured her when he noticed how worried she was. She sighed in relief. "I just...".

"What is it?". He heard the noise turn down, she had probably moved away from people so they could talk better.

"I lied to you. Charles has not been easy to deal with. At all! He's terrible, and I miss my sleep and we miss you and he's coughing all the time and the guys came by and it was a mess...". He kept rambling about how the last few days had been horrible for him and she patiently listened to him. It was bad that Charles was still with a fever, that wasn't normal, since he was taking medication for that, but Max was also someone who could escalate a situation pretty quickly, so it was hard for her to know exactly if the situation was that bad. Nonetheless, she let him let it all out, once she noticed that he was done, she offered a solution.

"Listen, Amor, give me two days. Tomorrow I will say goodbyes and then I'll be on the first plane I can catch, okay?". She heard him let out a breath he had been holding. "We'll take care of him together".

"Thank you, Schat, thank you so much". He said, feeling a lot better.

On the 6th, around 8 pm, Y/N finally got back home. She slowly opened the door, Pete went to her to greet her. She patted his head and scratched the back of his ears, earning a little huff of approval from the dog. Sassy and Jimmy went next, rubbing against her legs and meowing, showing their Mamá how much they missed her. She tried to shush them, noticing that Max and Charles were probably sleeping. Quietly, she dropped her suitcase by the door and took off her shoes, walking around the dark apartment towards the bedroom. The door made a minimal cracking sound as she pushed it open softly and she cringed about it, but she discovered that her boys were wide awake inside, completely unbothered by the sound of the door. Charles was in a semi-awake state, his eyes glossy and forehead shiny with sweat, probably still with a fever. Max was next to him, his eyes tired and the bags under them prominent, like he hadn't slept in days. The Dutchman's eyes light up with her presence, the tiredness still there but now mixed with relief.

"Schat!". He jumped up and ran to her, picking her up and spinning her a few times, before he set her back down and kissed her, like his life depended on it. Maybe his sanity did. "You're here!".

"Yeah, how have you guys been?". Max was frowning at her instead of answering her question. "What?"

"Weren't coming back tomorrow?". She was the one frowning now. "I told you we could wait, I can't believe I made you leave your family so soon".

"No, Amor, I said two days, that was the day before yesterday". She went to the bed and sat down, placing her hand on Charles' face and caressing his cheek.

"No no, today's the 5th, Schat".

"Max, it's January 6th". She took her phone out of her pocket to show him the date. "When was the last time you slept?"

"I don't know...". Y/N looked at him, worried, taking into his pitiful state. Charles was still out so she got up and dragged Max to the living room. They sat on the couch and he rested his head on her shoulder.

"You should sleep here tonight, I'll look after Charlie". He hummed in agreement. "Did you guys eat already?". Max nodded. "Good, then lie down and rest".

"Thank you, Schat".

Max lied down and closed his eyes, falling asleep instantly. Y/N walked back to the room, changed for the night and got into bed with Charles. He had the flu, how bad could it be? Really bad, she discovered that night. The Monegasque spent the night complaining, she wasn't able to close her eyes for a minute. Between Charles' never ending turning and how tired she was from the trip, she was wishing she could go to the living room with Max. When the morning light came, she was still awake and extremely tired. Charles was the most annoying patient in the world. If he was complaining like that for the flu, what would he do for a stomach bug? They were lucky that Charles rarely got sick. Max went to the bedroom around 11 am, better rested and ready to treat his girl better than last night. But she was looking just as miserable as he did the past few days. Charles was finally asleep, so she got up and the two of them went to the kitchen for breakfast. Max, with more energy than her, made some Stroopwafels, while Y/N just rested her head on her hand, slumped over the table.

"I think it's time for Charles' meds, Amor". She told him after a few minutes in silence. "Where are they?".

"First drawer, my nightstand. It's a bottle that says-"

"Paracetamol, I know, my mother's a doctor, remember?". He noticed the pain in her voice, under the tiredness, but he chose not to keep up the conversation about her mother, she was not rested enough to talk about that woman. She walked back to the bedroom and opened the drawer, the bottle being the first thing she saw.

"Here's a glass of water". Max told her as she walked up to him, the bottle in her hand.

"Have you been giving Charles this?". She showed him the bottle.

"Of course, every 8 hours". He proudly answered.

"It's expired, Max". His smile dropped instantly. "This expired in 2020".

"You're fucking with me". He took the bottle from her and inspected it. "It can't be expired".

"This is so old I wasn't even in F1 when it stopped being useful". She ran her hands down her face and sighed. "I'll run to the pharmacy and buy a new one. Of course he's not feeling better, the meds don't work once they are expired, it's like giving him nothing".

Y/N brought a new bottle of medication and Charles was already feeling better that night. They all finally got some proper sleep. The next morning, Charles was a new man, back again with his good spirits and big smiles, as if he hasn't been the most over dramatic person for the last few days. Max and Y/N were still exhausted as he walked into the kitchen for breakfast.

"I can't believe you flew all the way back here just for the flu, Amour, it wasn't that serious!". He told Y/N as he took a bite of his Stroopwafels. "And I took it like a champ".

"Yeah, sure, Corazón". She said, condescendingly.

"Get sick again, Charles, and I'm personally burring you with your Ferrari underwear, you fucking Drama King".

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

This one is pretty long, but i had fun writing it! Hope you guys like it!

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #lestappen imagine #lestappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #max vestappen one shot

609 notes · View notes

comfortless · 2 months

Note

so. please consider: König is a prince (yeah we aren’t going full king this route, maybe he has an older brother or some complications having the throne to himself but either way he has some power just not all of it lol) and reader is part of a performing troupe that usually acts out plays outside of the castle. he goes out to watch them and becomes so desperate for her that he gets /her/ to perform as /him/ when the plays are about his heroic deeds or whatever.

i have had this idea stuck in my head for days and i just know you can bring it to life 🩵

the evil little König in my head took over. no one look at me. 🥩🏰

prince!König x fem reader.

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. dubcon. mentions of adultery (not committed by reader or König), corruption kink (virgin!König), cunnilingus, light roleplay, scent & praise kink, smut (piv), reader is kind of evil here (König still manages to be worse), allusions to abduction.

“You are certainly lovelier than my wife, the Queen!”

He had his sword drawn, not high enough to elicit panic, but just enough to know that yes, there was a very present threat. This could be a bloodbath in an instant. Speak another word — he won’t refrain. He feels his teeth grit, grating, ash in the mouth and in the air.

The actors are unaware where they are stood on stage, and the mass of bodies surrounding barely take note of their Prince. A phantom. Loathed thing that he has always been. More hated than even their lecherous, stupid king. There’s only one thing he’s good for and it’s never been politics; there’s no need to garner up public appeal when your stage is a foreign field littered with blood and corpses.

Another insult to his poor mother and the city could be one too.

From a small wooden booth acting as a prop depiction of a brothel, steps a woman. Barefoot, bare flesh, the only thing she wears is a breast band and a loincloth of finely stitched lace. She isn’t a whore, not in truth, but she looks the part of the women his men rush to the second they’ve returned home. Ale and sex in abundance, and he’s never had the focus for the latter after a round of the former.

He watches as she sways, draws her hand to her forehead and bats her lashes while her other trails up her thigh to the hem of the piece concealing her womanhood. She stops with a laugh, turns to the crowd with sparkling eyes and says, “You lot should not cheer! The Queen surely deserves better than a womanizing fool!”

König’s never been one for plays, how tactlessly they slander the royal family and make jest of current affairs. This troupe, though… he thinks it’s done in taste. Or maybe it’s just her.

Even as the aging performer with his weathered face and messy gray beard acting the part of his father rushes to the pretty thing on stage and paws at her waist, König can not tear his eyes away.

The scene reaches its end when the brothel is burned, enacting something horrible the king had done several springs ago. Bereaved, the woman returns to the stage and bares her breasts, monologuing so sweetly as she feigns tears for her fallen sisters.

König swears to be nothing like his father but he still finds his trousers fitting more tightly at the sight, not foul enough to touch himself here, if ever at all. His heart aches with each fragile word spilled from those plush lips, and his cock demands further engagement with each gentle sway of her body and heave of her round tits.

His sword slots back into place at his hip when the scene comes to an end: the crowd a storm of laughter, the fire of the torches illuminating the street flickering, the actors dissipate behind the wooden stage, and all at once the play is over.

Tactless and impulsive, he thinks to thank her for not furthering the set-up for a joke, looks the part of a proper fool when he makes his way backstage where she’s sat wiping away carmine from her cheeks. The actress’ eyes go wide and hazy when she catches sight of him towering over her, the cloth and mirror slipping from her hands to rest on the table.

Of course, she takes it as a warning, asks him if he would prefer they only act out the current affairs— the recent siege of the southern kingdom, maybe? Or a story about the harvest festival? The gods or beasts? Anything she can sputter out to the man she easily recognizes as being the Prince.

König only finds himself further endeared when she dips her head as if ashamed and moves to conceal the bare skin of her stomach as though it would be insulting to see her in such a state of undress.

He excitedly tells her about the siege, of how he slaughtered those treasonous men and so valiantly brought their women and children to the capital to live much more honest lives, boasting while she looks on in acute, wonderous horror. That’s what he chooses, even pulls his hood from his face and drops it into her lap when he tells her she has to play his part.

The actress explains to him, docile and sweet, that she’s never played a male role and certainly lacks the stature to accurately represent him of all people. To which, he laughs, bids her a farewell with a flick of his wrist and wanders back out into the cobblestone and muck to finish up his patrol of the city.

A fortnight later, she returns to the stage in hastily put on armors, his veil hanging proudly about her head, a wooden sword clasped tightly in her hands. The crowd watching laughs at her expense as she tries in earnest to perfect the way she imagined his sword must have danced during that siege. The male actors fall with each tap of the weapon’s tip, and her voice takes on a forced, deeper tone when she speaks her praises to the kingdom she’s pilfered glory for.

König only sees fire, not in the flames of torches but lain out before him, a heat that courses from the picture of this beautiful little doe on stage straight down to simmer in his chest, his stomach. She’s so cute, pretending and doing her best just to appease him that he finds himself backstage again once the play concludes.

It’s just to talk, to congratulate her on a wonderful performance. He even presents a hefty sack of gold coins to her when she returns his veil, and she marvels at the donation, takes each piece and turns it in her fingers for a time before setting the little bag on the table.

Her brow scrunches for a moment before she settles on offering her hand out to him, fingertips ghosting over his upper thigh, loitering on the armor shell protecting him and drifting further up until he takes her hand and interlocks their fingers. Surely then, the actress comes to realize that her prince is as pure as the sisters in their temples.

She breathes out a laugh and shakes her head.

“I mean to pleasure you, my Prince,” she says, less meek now and more insisting. Her hand draws back to remove the prop armor from her body, eyes never leaving his own.

Though he considers the woman’s offer heavily, pulse stampeding and heart aching, he does eventually will himself to voice a weak refusal.

Never does he keep himself holed away from her for long, even after; König returns for each play whilst his men go about patrolling the city for prowlers and thieves. He watches each performance and continuously seeks her out backstage after. They talk each time, with him offering his suggestions and her clamoring for excuses as to why, no, she isn’t fit to play his role for another fight or some drab court meeting.

Finally, the same song and dance proves too much.

This night, there is no play and König still finds himself in the room cluttered with set pieces and props. The other actors have gone about seeking their own affairs for the evening; bedsides to coax comfort from or mugs of ale and bowls of bone to drown themselves in whilst gambling away the coins the hungering crowd has thrown their way.

She sits with him, perched up on her little table wearing nothing at all. Her skin is lit aglow by candlelight, the incense burning bathing all in the welcoming, warm comfort of lavender and rosemary. There’s ash in his chest again when he finds himself at her side, already aching with a want that should not exist, one that he would deny in full with bared teeth and blurry vision.

Only, she doesn’t prompt him with questions when her palms splay flat at the chest of his tunic, just grins like a wolf given a fat leg of mutton when she feels him begin to tense. She assures him that she’s only teaching him to act after demanding that he kneel, catches his jaw atop her hand and guides his face between her thighs where he then pants and groans at the foreign, enticing scent.

It awakens something in him, something bathed out and buried in blood, the very same that courses through his veins like a violent river now. A feral look and an iron grip on her hips that would leave bruises is all she gets. All until she hisses out the words, “I am your princess and you will do as I ask.”

The first lick is hesitant, clumsy, his stubble grazed over her most sensitive parts as he slips his tongue across the smoothness of her slit. He doesn’t have an idea of what he’s doing, only enacting the vile things he’s heard men about the castle speak of, how to properly take a woman apart and push her to not only want, but to need.

Mostly, she’s unimpressed.

When he gathers her taste on his tongue, he becomes a man possessed, ripped away from duty and sovereignty and brought down to the lowness of mere swine. He groans into her cunt, laps and suckles at anything his tongue and lips can touch, savors the sight, dewy and swollen when he presses a kiss to the bud that finally does get her to purr.

“Sweet boy..,” she coos to him when her hands find his hair, petting him so gently as he continues to lap at her clit. “You’re taking such good care of your princess, yes?”

His mind blanks entirely, driven forward with a renewed, feverish vigor as he dismantles her wholly with a drooling mouth and an unrelenting stare. Rationality should have pulled him away before it ever got to this point; she’s a peasant, and he can’t run amok fathering bastards and condemning himself to Hell for a simple woman. But that’s all beaten back by her taste, the way she writhes in his hold, keeps whispering her praises and lacing those soft fingers through his hair… no amount of devils or men could pry him from her cunt.

Only she does when her voice comes in a pant and her grip tightens to pull him back. The table, his face, all sticky and wet with what must have been her very essence, drawn out by a man lacking experience but so unknowingly eager.

“Take off your clothes,” comes her next demand, one he obliges with a great hesitance.

The tunic is pulled away with shaking hands, the tie of his trousers next. He mutters a curse below his breath when his cock springs free, so erect and angry it looks painful. The tip drools just as much as that fluttering heaven between her legs, pearly beads of preejaculate leaking down to stain the fabric and further condemn him to this impromptu fate.

He jerks when she wraps her hand around him there, whines when she leans forward to kiss its head.

“I can’t…” His voice sounds weak to his own ears, pathetic and miserable as he makes a mock attempt at prying her away with a gentle press to her shoulder. “My princess… we should not.”

He’s almost certain she’s a devil herself sent to exact some punishment upon him when her lips curl up into a grin and she lies back with her knees drawn to her chest. She speaks such words to him then that he would not dare to ever repeat, songs only the unknown could sing. An angel, perhaps, when she slips a finger into herself to demonstrate to him just what should be done… there, with panting breaths and whispers of heaven.

And finally, when his cock throbs and kicks at the sight, all resolve is entirely lost. He positions himself over her where she guides the tip of his manhood to her slit, praises his size when his hips give an involuntary twitch and he slightly dips into her, sampling her warmth and the resistance from something so thick pressing into her.

His world crumbles at the sensation, cobblestone replaced by the raging heat of brimstone and an obscene lust that clouds his mind and leads him to spear her open to his hilt.

He finds holiness in their union, bites back a roar when her walls tremble around him. She only laughs when his teeth find her shoulder, only sings more hymns into his ear as he fucks into her cunt at a reckless, brutal pace. The words don’t register, far-away and distant amidst the roaring tide of sensation. She’s so tight, so wet and yearning, quivering beneath him and clawing down his back.

“We shouldn’t, hm?,” she whispers in his ear, teeth grazing the lobe. His strokes become even sloppier, each thrust stuttered and heady when the sound of her voice pulls through the haze of bliss. “My sweet boy is so good at this, though…”

His voice is nearly a wail when he loses himself fully then. He holds the back of her thighs, fucks himself through an orgasm that leaves his head spinning and his body shaking as though he’s come down with some wretched fever. And perhaps he is ill, because he can’t bring himself to think of anything more than the divine rapture of stuffing his seed into the warmth of her pussy, can’t bring himself to pull his cock out of her even when he begins to soften.

His face is buried against her neck, professing his endless love as he breathes her in and ruts into her over and over until his cock is once again stiffened and drooling inside of the very cunt he would die to keep.

Surely, when her troupe begins to pack to drift further out into the kingdom for their performances to be seen… he could accuse them of slander, have the old man playing the part of the lecherous king executed, the others thrown into rat-infested cells, and the little princess tethered to his bed to warm his heart and his cock.

He will kiss away her tears, tell her that all could be forgiven if she would only let him make an honest woman of her.

#könig x reader #tw: dubcon

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ghouljams · 5 months

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"I could've sworn she was mine. What a pity." The fact that I blushed readin that line. That is threat sir! You should be on your feet groveling for your life and giving up any hope of marrying your betrothed because she's about to be queen. You are a fool. Don't leave your promised unattended when a selfish king of blood is nearby who would end your life without a second thought if only so he could keep such a rare jewel for himself.

Just imagining the fiance freakin out packin his bags knowing full well if he doesn't run it's over and just while he's packin he thinks of you and wonders it would make it worse if he tried to take you? The answer would be yes.

-Hot mess rambler

It runs through his mind when he's packing, when he's thumbing through the bonds that are handed to him by a masked emissary of the king, maybe you're worth something more than he'd first thought. You were pretty, a little stupid, an easy build-your-own wife. Of course, he'd never planned on being much of a husband: leaving you alone for long periods for business, affairs, a loveless and empty marriage. Barely a marriage even in name.

Your soon to be ex-fiance supposes it doesn't matter now. He's got more money than you're worth to leave you, and he's planning on using it well. Already he can imagine the new ventures he'll put it towards, new business ideas and fellows he can rub elbows with. Maybe he'll buy himself a proper title, a marquis of some kind.

He shoulders his bag, summons his valet and waits. After a moment he becomes frustrated and storms out of his office to find him. Stupid old fool, he hardly knows what he pays his staff for if this is the work ethic he can expect. The house is silent. It's never silent like this in here.

Something pops outside. Your ex-fiance grumbles a few swears to himself and makes his way outside. He has a few choice words to share with whoever is making all this noise. He throws his front door open with an angry shout and is simultaneously knocked back by a gunshot.

König hands his rifle to his attendant, exchanging it for a handkerchief. He wipes his hands clean of the gunpowder residue with a pitying look at the man withing on the front steps of his home.

"Wonderful shot sir," his attendant tells him. König hums and tucks the handkerchief into his pocket.

"Animals without brains make bad sport," König tells him, holding his hand out for his sword. It's neatly placed in his hand, and he finally takes the time to go put this poor stupid animal out of its misery. It's only too bad no one will ever miss it.

"Make sure you clean out his coffers," König advises his men as they file past him to comb the house. He tugs the handkerchief from his pocket and wipes the blood off his sword. "And make sure someone cleans up this mess," he yells, his voice booming through the silent house.

The arterial spray was beautiful, but ultimately messy. König wipes the blood off his face as he looks around the house. It's a good thing he came around when he did, this is no place for you. You deserve somewhere spectacular, where you can be treated like the treasure you are. Somewhere regal, royal, somewhere like König's bed.

What a splendid idea.

#könig mw2 #könig fanfiction #könig cod #könig call of duty #king!könig #regency au #goodbye shitty ex fiance #könig x reader #sort of #könig #x oc #cod x reader #x reader #cod x oc #oc: bee #sorry i didnt answer your ask but youre so right

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thechekhov · 3 months

Text

Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts: CH45

Slumber party!

Fair, but consider: She deserves a little murder. As a treat.

Kabru be like "IS THAT MY BACKSTORY???"

That sure is....a ship. With no one on it.

Ah, shit the Americans are here.

Two things: Toshiro being tended to like a pretty pretty princess is hilarious.

And also, the fact that they think the elves can kill Falin......... hmmm.... Pressing X to doubt.

............... oh. Laios. 😂

But also like. How was he MEANT to keep it silent? Put a little something in it? I thought since it was a magic bell you could code it to only ring when it's shaken with INTENT?

Fancy ass house.

Also, Namari...........are you hitting that yet? Both of that?

Oh, it's backstory time.

Okay one: that's fucking tragic, it sounds like the Elves are just forcing the dungeons closed with no regard for how the ecosystem compensates and what people suffer by being in close proximity......

And another thing: Kabru. Kabru, isn't that what YOU'RE after? Having all the power?

Why is this so much like that one meme where the girls at the party are looking at you.

It's the same picture.

Kabru that's. That's maybe not the way to go about it. you're going to give them MORE reasons to go in.

Nevermind the governor not being into this 'good boy, now sign' talk, Toshiro's kinda right. Ya fucked up Kabru.

No matter how far Laios runs, he cannot escape other people trying to tell him how to live his life. Poor guy. But at the same time...

Is this real? Or a red herring?

Laios' father and mother seemed to be living relatively pious lives. They clearly had a good house, but it didn't seem like they were extremely rich. Then again, perhaps he's just a cousin of royalty? Is that why his parents wanted him to have children?

They want to.... halt the growth of the dungeon? Is this another part of the natural ecosystem of things? Dungeons growing seems to point even more towards the idea that it's a gigantic, fleshpit-like creature instead of simply a construct.

Then again, constructs CAN be creatures. Like the golems.

Elves not understanding how old humans are continues to be hilarious because like.

As humans, we HAVE this same concept of variant aging. Like. Dogs. We understand that dogs live less than us, and mature a lot slower. But this is.... COMMON KNOWLEDGE. Most people do not make it into adulthood without understanding that dogs mature within 1-2 years of their birth.

The fact that elves, a species with FAR more time on their hands, who have lived alongside other races for AGES....... have STILL not got the general concept of aging down....means their education is atrocious. Or they're all not paying attention.

.......this. THIS is the most fascinating concept in this chapter.

The fallen.... turned into MONSTERS.

We know that dying inside the dungeon doesn't mean permanent death. But dying above-ground does.

We know that dying in the dungeon doesn't mean your body turns into a monster (aside from ghosts and ghouls?) ..... but dying aboveground.... DOES......?

WHAT'S THE TRUTH.

👁👁

Hm.

If Kabru and Laios fused, they could almost make one functioning human being.

Senshi just beginning to speak in the middle of his own internal monologue is so real.

...... what's going on there with the expression, buddy?

Bread.......are they STILL carrying around flour with them?! How are they getting bread?!

Also, it's awesome that the eggs are canonically hard to crack, because it makes sense that they don't break during their many fighting events.

Izutsumi really said ◉_◉

Don't tell me Laios, who is sensitive to ghosts has ALSO been seeing things?

Not gonna lie, that's highkey terrifying.

Props to that ghost that's been following Laios around, not ever giving up hope that it can bother him into acknowledging it.

And also - hey, it already saved them once! that means it's probably not evil!

That, or it's the king of the bloody dungeon. Wouldn't that be something!

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi quick reacts #dungeon meshi liveblog #chekhov reads dungeon meshi

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cryptotheism · 1 year

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The prince, beautiful for a six-foot clam, was freezing and starving. It wasn’t fair. Nothing was ever fair.

He cursed his father. He cursed his sisters. He cursed the pools of freezing muck and he cursed the film of saline moss that covered them. He lost count of how many times he had sunk his legs into freezing pools. His belly was empty, and his legs were numb with the cold. Bastards, he thought. Bastard bastards bastards. He kicked another small shelled creature into a wall. He didn’t deserve any of this. He had prepared.

Everything. He had packed everything into that catamaran, and now it was gone, smashed to the bottom of the interlocain by the autodefenses. Clothes, tools, bedroll, tent, rations -the goddamn rations- even the books. All he had was the boots, the leather pants, the billowy linen shirt with the gold buttons, his sword belt, and a nearly-empty sword.

Now he was cold, and hungry, and he couldn't sleep because of the cold and the hunger. He had tried to eat the weeds, but the taste made him retch. He tried to eat the small shelled things, but they were full of so many little bones. Bastards, he thought. They never thought he would actually do it. They never thought he would just pick up and run. He was glad, in a way, that his family couldn’t see him now. He could picture it. His father, bored and disappointed. His sister’s smug grin. His mother, full of pity. Poor Marin. Always poor Marin. It wasn’t fair. The city didn’t call them. It called him. It called to him alone. That little voice, deep into the night, calling him north, calling him here. Something wanted him here…wherever here was.

Here was Teleth Avaris, tomb-city to the old gods. Specifically, here was a shore battery on the south wall that had largely collapsed into the sea. Even in the cities heyday, it would have been a gray place devoid of honor or beauty. Titanic guns rusted on their mounts, eaten by the salt-sea air. The old concrete had been licked smooth by the waves, and the whole place sagged into the water like a great stone and rebar hammock. Tide pools formed in potholes dug by the impact of old kinetic shells. Moss and lichens and barnacles clung to every surface, trapping moisture and thus the cold. To the little shelled creatures and chubby gastropods, it was a banquet, a feast of winter vegetables and fresh fjord insects. To the prince, it was a palace of discomfort, the seat of some rude foreign king who decorated only in tapestries and carpets of wet, rotting, sponge. The prince attempted to kick another small shelled thing, but slipped on a patch of slimy lichen, nearly losing his footing. The prince chuckled to himself. You know what? Good. Maybe father would send Lunine in after him, and she would end up at the bottom of the interlocian, her and that goddamn bodyguard. Maybe this could be a good thing. If he could escape from this carbonsteel dung heap, he would be a hero. Lone survivor. A legend. Father would... No, who cared what father thought. Father would be forced to give him the reigns. If he escaped. If he survived. This was a win-win.

He could escape. Of course he could escape. He had read books on survival. Even books on survival in the teleths. Everyone always said he was intelligent, and he was. A tiny part of him was giddy at the idea of playing shaft-diver. He had always adored shaft divers. Every young man adored shaft divers. Yes! That's what he would do. It was all coming together. All he had to do was recall every piece of information he could remember about shaft-diving, every story, every book, every wayward tale, and he would survive. His stomach groaned.

The prince drew himself up, puffing out his chest with newfound confidence. Yes. It was all coming together. He seized a rock, a nice sturdy one, and scraped off the lichens with his hands. It was a disgusting sensation, but the prince reveled in his newfound rustic aplomb. No, he thought. It had always been there. He was emerging from his chrysalis. He crouched low, surveying his environment for danger. He focused his eyes on a chubby little gastropod, and began to stalk, creeping toward his prey like some huntress-witch from the glowing swamp. Toe to heel. Yes. By the gods it was working. Yes. He was doing it. He was actually doing it. Three meters. Two meters. One. He raised the rock.

As he brought the rock down, his foot slid out from under him, sending him toppling sideways. His elbow plunged through a bed of moss and into another freezing pool. The chubby gastropod hopped up, skittering away as fast as its tentacles could carry it. The rock caught it by two of its legs. In a herculean feat of hunting prowess, the prince lunged, sprawling upon his belly to slam the rock down on the gastropod again. The hit connected, breaking the shell with a satisfying thwack.

The prince, giddy with adrenaline and hunger, seized the thing in his hands. He peeled off his mouthplate, and tore into the mass. Almost immediately he recoiled as bits of shell tore into the spaces between his teeth. He plucked and spat out the shards, and remembered something about the little gastropods. He began to tear off tentacles. The texture was disgusting, leathery sheathes and overwhelmingly fatty meat with veins like gamey dental floss. The prince, in his starving delirium, found them delicious. He laughed and wept as he ate, mad with adrenaline, splayed out on his belly in the freezing muck. Success. Victory. A conquering.

The shaft diver, who had been observing all of this from a nearby boulder, watched on with an expression of mild horror, mercantile opportunity, and ill-advised lust. He descended from his perch as loudly as he could, and strode across the wet ground with purpose. He adjusted his bow tie, and in his most charming voice, the one he reserved for rich marks, said;

"Hey there."

The prince whipped around, bits of tentacle flying from his mouth as he drew himself up to one knee, and then up to both feet. He was met with the sight of a vile little beast. Maybe five feet tall, pink and fleshy, with wide dark eyes flanked by little fins and a row of razor-sharp teeth. No doubt one of the many horrors common to these ruins. The prince drew his weapon, the nanites flashed into place, forming a thin, scalpel-sharp, blade which he leveled at the beast's throat.

"mgie bgeft" he shouted through a mouthful of gastropod, and lunged.

A wristblade extended from beneath the shaft-diver's sleeve. It parried and backstepped with rigged agility. "Hey now! Hey hey hey! Relax! I'm not gonna hurt ya." Said the shaft diver, holding up his palms in a calming gesture. This guy was scared shitless, he needed an angle.

"Hey buddy calm down, its okay, whats your prodigal?" Said the shaft diver.

The prince stared at him, "Prodigal?" He said, clearly still panicking.

Oh boy, thought the shaft diver, this one was real out of his league. "Oh, sorry sorry, I thought you were one of us, said the diver."

The prince stared back, bits of gastropod dripping from his mouth. "One of us?"

Time to lay it on thick. "A shaft diver, dummy. I was watching you stalk that thing, figured you were pro." He paused for dramatic effect, feigning realization. "You're tellin me you're not a diver?"

"No. but I can see how you would make that mistake." Said the prince, swishing the nanoblade away with sudden dignity. "You stand before Marin de Trozier, firstborn and rightful heir to house Trozier."

The shaft diver was all but drooling. He could tell guy was wealthy, but the firstborn of an Atlantean merchant clan? The shaft divers thoughts went into overdrive. Do I bow? No. He's playing shaft diver, let him play the part.

The shaft diver put on his best shaft diver voice, the rough, touch-mad one, like how they sound in teleplays. He was nearly a foot shorter than the prince, but did his best to look rugged and unimpressed. "Am I supposed to be impressed, prettyboy? Want me to curtsy? You're in Teleth Avaris now, you left your titles behind. Like it or not-" He paused for effect. "-you're a shaft diver now."

"Hmph." Said Marin, turning up his nose at the insolence. "Maybe so. You still haven't given me your name. Your 'prodigal' was it?" Marin made mocking quotes as he said the words. The shaft diver shook his head. "Seeing as you've already given me your proper name, there's no need for prodigals." He extended a rigged hand, "You can call me Kip."

Marin returned the gesture, shaking. "Marin."

Kip grinned. Hook, line, and sinker.

This is the first chapter of Emerald Seas. You can read the first draft, and its prequel, here.

#Emerald Seas #Long Post

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tflaw · 2 years

Text

DE$PERADO.

☆★ ! afab!reader. exhibitionism w the boys. ofc, lots of cum. unprotected. good ol creampie. warnings are written on each character’s part ++ just a lil something for the short kings && before i disappear for my midterms ! (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) not proofread.

Discipline has been long entrenched in their bones. Who would’ve thought that it easily crumbles in the face of a pussy so insatiable?

CYNO + feral!cyno. it’s what we deserve.

placed in the top brass of people who rid sumeru of any peril, cyno’s mastery of the rules is indisputable. rules that are ingrained in his system like ancient runes carved into stone and that which hinders wickedness from fostering in the land of dendro. whispers might soar of how malleable said rules are under his jurisdiction, but hearsays grow wingless against the general mahamatra’s ascendancy.

until then, he would treat your pussy like a drop of water in his parched throat and stick his poor cock deep in your guts anywhere he covets. you can be as loud as you want: the reassurance he often whispers while wiping the fat head of his tip along your slit. he’d fuck you, then, until his name becomes a permanent echo inside and outside his tent until everyone in the campsite knows that the mahamatra is fucking you again. and once he departs the tent, expect not a soul to speak their dissent. for the rules are simple: none could go against someone who rules the desert.

XIAO + wrote this w beta xiao on my mind. corruption. predator & prey. i have gone completely crazy for him.

raised in a greater plain than mortals, an adeptus do not feel or bleed easily. and yet that has not hindered the people of liyue from beseeching adepti for good fortune nor the adepti from seeking warmth with a mortal. it is one thing, after all, to be blessed by an adeptus. but to be desired by one is an eternal musing on whether such a thing is a blessing or a curse.

xiao, the adeptus guarding wangshu inn, might be hostile, but in his being there lies a slumbering desire awakened by you. the dutiful person working in wangshu inn, who xiao fucks in every corner and in any way he pleases. to have an adeptus satisfying your mortal desires: you like this, so much more than what you’re willing to admit, he says while abusing his cock by fucking your cunt with fervent thrusts. licking your cheek before feverishly gasping against the wet skin, his body trembling as your sweet pussy sucks him in. all this talk merely to cover the truth that it is xiao who needs you to satiate the hunger unbefitting a respected adeptus like him.

KAZUHA + needy kazuha. overstimming himself. creampie. uhhh i’m so dizzy i don’t know what is this but i need him.

it takes unparalleled discipline to master the art of the blade. thousand swings and a thousand more callus before one can bend it to his will. even then, it is the blade that wields the man and not the other way around. this discipline has followed the ronin to this day, but meeting you certainly skewed him within. a corruption of sorts, and an indulgence far heavier than discipline: the lust you ignited in him.

there are trails of glossy cum spilling from your hole, which is being repeatedly plugged by kazuha’s fucked out cock. a pool of white semen on the ship’s deck, certain to leave stains once it dries. and yet none of you seems to care— minds too clouded by fucking, bodies too unstoppable. he pistols his cock through your creamy pussy with an audible cry, and your eyes cross at the feeling. his stretched-out shaft remains buried in your cum-filled walls. the sun peeks out on the horizon, but kazuha’s hips, despite their quivering, cannot stop pumping— obviously without regard to the rousing and yawning crews outside the room where he had fucked you in all night.

HEIZOU + prison sex. vvv nasty and i’m not sorry. creampie. feral!heizou. exhibitionism. itto watches from behind bars poor him <//3

for an exuberant detective like shikanoin heizou, solving a crime and apprehending lawbreakers is the pinnacle of joy. in inazuma, he has been acknowledged as the best one in the field. a weapon that even the tenryou commission finds taxing to wield. his desires have not any fetters, and he does what his heart pleases. however, aside from putting felons behind bars, it is making them physically suffer that gives heizou unrivaled euphoria.

the cool metal bars pressed against your cheek, totally fucked out and beyond coherence when heizou once again rams his hungry cock through your folds. his cum hasn’t stopped flowing from your hole, and it’s only ever growing thick inside your pussy with his ensuing climaxes. your eyes crisscross, clouding the image of utter stupefaction on itto’s face as he watches your tits bounce between bars with heizou’s feral humping. show him how good your cunt takes my cum, heizou says with a peal of manic laughter before turning your behind on itto, bending over, and showing your pulsing cunt as globules of cum fill the hole. heizou leans on the metal bars, then, with his cock out and sticking to his thigh before saying, be good, itto. who knows? i might let you fuck that pussy before i send you home.

💭 reblogs && feedback appreciated !

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #cyno smut #cyno x reader #xiao smut #xiao x reader #kazuha smut #kazuha x reader #heizou smut #heizou x reader #tw exhibitionism

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

woo!! my little mix-up is a mix of in a week ( au character ) and fade into you ( specific reader )!!

poly marauders as royal guards to a sunshine reader? :) if it's not too much trouble

- ✏️

Thanks for requesting my love <3

join the party

bodyguard!marauders x sunshine!reader ♡ 683 words

“Princess.” James wraps a hand around your elbow as you try to go out into the garden, his grip gentle but firm. “Just wait a minute, Remus needs to do a sweep before we can go out.”

“But it’s leaving!” you cry, gaze fixed on the orange cat slinking into the bushes with something akin to longing. “He’s gonna scare it off!”

Sirius chuckles. “Remus is great with cats, angel. Knowing him, he’ll have the thing sleeping at the foot of his bed by tonight.”

“But where’ll you sleep?” James asks innocently, snickering when Sirius shoves at his shoulder.

“It’s so cute,” you croon, eyes so heart-shaped James tenses in case you try to bolt for it. “Do you think my mom’ll let me keep it?”

“Think King’s allergic, so no,” Sirius says, squeezing your shoulder in apology.

“What if we keep it a secret?”

James smiles at you, ready to indulge you in your hopeless fantasy, but then Remus comes back.

“All clear,” he says seriously, and James nods at him as you rush through the door.

It never fails to surprise him how quick you are when you want to be, and he and the others have to break into a jog to keep you within a reasonable distance as you dash for the cat, stopping a few feet away so as not to spook it.

“Don’t do that,” Sirius says breathlessly, but it’s pointless. You’re beyond listening, all your focus on the orange tabby in front of you.

It hisses as you get closer, and you coo, making little kissy sounds. James tries not to laugh at your obvious desperation, staying back so you can’t blame him when the cat inevitably runs off.

“Be careful,” Remus warns. “We don’t know if it’s friendly, don’t grab it or anything.”

“Oh, of course he’s friendly,” you murmur liltingly, advancing toward the cat slowly and low to the ground. “He’s just scared, the poor baby.” Your voice is light and sweet as meringue, and James’ heart turns to mush in his chest at hearing it. You start to extend your hand cautiously, and the tabby tenses, eyeing you warily. “It’s okay, honey, I’m not going to—” you gasp as the cat lashes out with its claws, drawing your arm back reflexively as it dashes into the bushes and out of sight.

Remus had to have been anticipating it, because he’s at your side before James can move, crouching beside you and taking your arm in his hand. He shushes you softly as you call out after the cat, and James exchanges a look with Sirius, waiting for the dark-haired boy to nod in confirmation that he’ll keep watch before James joins Remus beside you.

“I didn’t even get to pet it,” you say morosely. James frowns at you, patting your shoulder consolingly.

“He didn’t deserve you, angel,” he says, and Remus tsks as he turns your arm over in his grip, four shallow but long scratches oozing blood down your wrist.

“Let’s go inside and get you fixed up,” Remus says gently, and he and James help you up, guiding you back towards the palace as you cast forlorn looks behind you.

“This isn’t a great look for us,” Sirius teases you. “The three of us walking back into the palace with a bleeding princess.”

You give a little laugh, your usual levity restored instantly by his joking. “It’s not like it’s a grave injury,” you reply, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. “I don’t know why these two are acting like I can’t walk by myself.”

James chuckles but keeps his hand on your back. “Like Sirius says, it’s not a great look for us. May as well appear to be taking it seriously.”

“Some guards we are,” Remus agrees lightly. “Can’t even protect you from a feral cat.”

“He wasn’t feral!” you say defensively. “He was just scared. He’s misunderstood.”

“Whatever you say, gorgeous.” Sirius shrugs, opening the door for all of you. “All I know is, you’re never getting near an animal again that’s not pre-vetted by one of us. Too risky.”

743 notes · View notes