#sweets🍭 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

threadsun · 1 year

Text

Sweets🍭 Asks: "Heeeey! It's me! I've just been struggling with ideas because....ive been thinking about things unrelated to sunny day Jack

BUT HEAR ME OUT

Remember that one fic you wrote with Jean and Joseph with teacher MC

Yeah that but...mc is the director\creator of the sunny time crew and here's the kicker

They are extremely miserable

They hate their job

They hate their life

They hate children

They probably hate Jean and Joseph too

Will that stop them from flirting with this tired annoyed grumpy director?

Nope! I mean Jack and Rory were made to make people happy!

It's gonna be a piece of cake

...right?"

Oh Sweets hellooooooo!!! I love you!!! You always bring me the absolute most banger ideas!!!

I love the idea of them both falling for this person who looks like they haven't slept in weeks and visibly loathes every moment they're on set lmao

Content: hatred of children, general depression, ngl reader just sort of sucks, smoking, absolutely shamelessly dirty flirting, suicidal ideation/joking about suicide, reader is not okay

Coffee isn't enough anymore. You need an IV drip of caffeine straight into your blood stream. Or some heavy drugs. Or a real hard blow to the head with a baseball bat. At this point, you're not picky. Whatever gets you off this stupid set.

The SunnyTime Crew Show. Your crowning achievement. The idea that made your career. Shown across millions of tv sets all over the country every single day. Shown to all those little ankle biters you can't stand the sight of, too young and useless to so much as wipe their own asses.

It's all bright colours and simple words and stupid, terrible songs that get stuck in your head on loop until you want to bash your brains in against a wall. Not that it takes much for you to feel that way these days. Especially given the people you're working with.

Joseph Haberdae and Jean Laurent. Rising star and bossy diva. The constant bickering. The even more constant flirting. The adlibbed lines. The relentless cheer while the cameras roll. And the insufferable questions when they don't. They take the whole thing so fucking seriously. Like this is anything more than some drivel for parents to shove their kids in front of when they can't be bothered to parent anymore.

Maybe you don't hate the kids, maybe it's the parents you resent. Always shoving crying babies into your arms during live recordings so their "precious child" can get a better look at the set. Demanding the show teach this or that lesson. Begging for the Crew to come work birthday parties.

But no, you can't stand wiping little noses and listening to the shrieks. Kids have always given you the creeps, but now they piss you off. Always saying weird things and rubbing their sticky fingers all over set. You're just lucky the stars are better with the kids than you are.

"Should we cut?" Your brought out of your stewing annoyance by the sound of your PA whispering in your ear.

You down the last of your coffee and shove the cup into his hands, a silent demand for more. "Cut!"

You hadn't noticed the scene end. But it didn't matter, Joseph and Jean had started improvising lines anyway, as they so often did. Your eye twitches in annoyance. You don't spend your time yelling at the writers to get every line perfect just for these idiots in costumes to make shit up.

"Haberdae, Laurent." You snap your fingers and point to the spot in front of you. "Everyone else, take five. Then we reshoot. We get it right this time or every single one of you is out of a goddamn job."

As the rest of the cast and crew file out for their break, the two men stand at attention before you. They know where this conversation is going. It's the same one you have every time they so much as change a single word from the script.

"So, which school was it?" You cross you arms and scowl at them both.

They exchange a look of confusion before Joseph ventures a reply. "What?"

"Which school? SoCal? Columbia? You do RTF at Austin?" They can tell your tone is derisive, but they're still not sure what you're getting at. You roll your eyes. "Where you studied screenwriting. I assume you've got some writing background, since you're always changing my fucking script."

Oh. Ohhhhh. Okay, they're on the same page as you now. Joseph has the good grace to look chastised, staring at his feet like a kicked puppy. Jean isn't one to be so easily intimidated. He raises an eyebrow and shrugs.

"What was it today, your assistant got you the wrong coffee? Or did some kid get ketchup all over your copy of the script?" He's used to your bad moods. They both are, but he's not swayed by them. "If you'd actually watched the take rather than staring off into space, you'd realise it was better than the shit your writers came up with."

You purse your lips. He's... probably not wrong. It's hard to find good writers who are willing to throw their talents away on a show like this. And they do both have an admirable understanding of their characters. Much as you hate them, they're true to your original vision. The vision you wished you'd never had.

With a reluctant sigh, you move to rewatch the take. Your PA hands you your coffee and a lit cigarette before hastily retreating, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire of whatever's going on. It's a relief, the burn of the smoke in your throat followed by the burn of the scalding coffee.

"Watch."

Joseph's behind you, hands hovering just over your waist as his breath brushes against your ear. Damn this infuriatingly handsome man and his lack of personal space. You grit your teeth and focus on the screen, ignoring the huge man all but pressed against your back. He and Jean crowd you, trying to get a good look at the viewer as you play back the scene.

It's... good. Better than the script. You don't want to admit it out loud, but their additions make more sense with the episode's story, and sound more like Jack and Rory. Damn them.

"See?" Joseph's lips brush against your ear, one hand making contact with your waist for just a moment to give it a soothing rub. "Not bad, right?"

You shove him aside, taking a long drag of your cigarette and pretending to mull it over. As if there's any question. He watches you closely, with all the eagerness of youth and all the ego of an actor who knows he's good at his job.

"Fine." You breathe the word out in a plume of smoke. "It's good enough, I guess. We don't have time for another take anyway."

Joseph grins, leaning an arm on your shoulder like you're an old friend rather than his director. "Come on, you can admit it. We're good."

You sneer at him, trying to nudge his massive forearm off you. But he doesn't budge. Instead, Jean takes up an identical position leaning on your other shoulder.

"So tense," he tuts and shakes his head. "Come on, you can praise us sometimes, you know."

With a roll of your eyes, you resign yourself to once again being crowded by the two men. You can't honestly say you mind it. "Why, so you can get off to it later? I've got about as much interest in stroking your goddamn egos as I do in stroking your pathetic cocks."

"Watch out," Jean's voice is a familiar, teasing lilt. Though it feels directed as much at Joseph as it is at you. "Talk like that might just get Joseph all riled up."

"Eugh." You mime throwing up, ducking from under their arms to grab your coffee and down some more. "Don't need to know about your humiliation kink, thanks."

Joseph's redder than he'd care to admit, but he tries to brush it off. "You know, I didn't realise you thought about stroking our cocks that often. Or our egos."

"Maybe a quick romp would help loosen you up a bit?" Jean suggests, raising an eyebrow with a quirk of his lips. "Keep you focused on your job. Is that why you've got that thousand yard stare every time we shoot? Too busy thinking about fucking us in our dressing rooms?"

From an outside perspective it might seem like sexual harassment in the workplace, but... you encourage it in your own way. You could easily set boundaries if you wanted to, but their flirting—however much they annoy you—is the only interesting part of your life right now. The only part that doesn't make you consider jumping off the roof of the studio.

"Too busy thinking about the easiest way to off myself, more like. Still trying to decide between throwing myself in the reservoir and just jumping in front of the next car I see."

"Well, wouldn't that be a waste of a pretty face?"

Jean's not worried by your theatrics. It's not the first time you've loudly proclaimed your intentions to off yourself, nor will it be the last. It never stops you coming in the next day, looking as dead behind the eyes as ever, and yelling at everyone you see.

"Pretty face." You snort, trying not to choke on your coffee. "What, is it the eyebags or the fact that I haven't had time for a decent meal in months?"

"I think it's your smile." Joseph's always so... genuine. He flirts like Jean, of course, but sometimes he'll throw something so earnest at you that it winds you. "We don't get to see it often, but... you've got a really nice smile."

It feels like he's punched you in the chest, not given you a sweet compliment. It's time to put a stop to this for now. The flirting's gone past entertaining and straight into that dangerous territory that leaves you worried you might do something stupid. Like fall for one or both of them. Not to mention, you've still got half a day of filming this bullshit left.

"Fuck off to makeup, be back on set in two. We'll pick up with Rory's baking lesson."

With a stern nod to the stage door, the two hurry off. You feel like you can breathe again. When they're around, you start to get claustrophobic. Or maybe coulrophobic. Or maybe just... you feel vaguely nauseous at even the shadow of a thought about having romantic feelings for either of the frustrating, handsome actors.

Nope.

No way.

Definitely not.

Not while you have the world's worst tv show to direct.

God you hate your life.

#swwsdj #something's wrong with sunny day jack #sdj jean #sdj joseph #joseph haberdae x reader x jean laurent #gn!reader #18+ only #sunshine #sweets🍭#dear director au #crosspost

70 notes · View notes

soleilnomoon · 11 months

Note

Hi Kaia could i order white chocolate,fruit tart,glazed Donut,nougat,Donut hole,with caramel and whipped cream for one piece men: (Luffy ,Rayliegh ,Ace, Zoro, Sanji ,Shanks,and Law) plz and thank you

hihi ty for being patient angel 🥰️ i def took some liberty w. this one, but i think i like how all of them turned out; you gave me a tall order but *clenches fist* i survived 💛💛💛 anyway, ty for requesting hope you like it :)

3.2k words, fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni; smut, some angst, fluff (wow i know), hurt/comfort; feat. luffy being a total menace, rayleigh being the dilf we all want, ace being mischievous as ever, zoro being a dumbass, sanji being overwhelmed, shanks being the absolute worst, and law trying to teach reader a lesson. also feat. cute stuff like: ass grabbing, rough (consensual sex), exhibitionism & public sex, lil bondage, jealousy, orgasm denial, some sof smut™ (who am i), oral (f receiving), fingering, oral (m receiving), idk other stuff probably. y/n has no self preservation ofc, these men are ridiculous (i love them). (if u see grammar/spelling mistakes no u didn't <3)

it isn’t your intention, but somehow you and your captain get separated from the group one afternoon while canvasing a new island. you normally don’t get lost, but luffy was teasing you all morning — pulling you aside for impromptu kisses, grabbing onto your hips from behind, his lips curled into a devilish smile against your neck with each kiss he left behind. luck was usually on your side during those instances, except it seems it’s suddenly run out.

“don’t give me that look,” you say as sternly as you can, eyes glancing around to see if any of your crew mates doubled back to look for you. luffy’s really to blame for you both getting lost, but he doesn’t want to admit that just yet; it’s more entertaining to tease you, because you’re cute when you’re annoyed. luffy wraps a hand around your wrist and pulls you further away from the path you came from.

in between kisses, you remind him that you’re both pressed for time.

“don’t worry,” he says in a low voice, “it’ll be fine, probably.” you’d slap him if he wasn’t already kissing you again, tongue licking inside your mouth hotly; you arch against him, face flushed from the heat. his kisses remind you of summers and warm breezes; your mouth still tastes like the mangos you consumed with him earlier — sticky and sweet, a taste he’ll always covet.

you squeeze your thighs together when his hand roams lower and take a shuddering breath once he backs you against a thick tree. you hike a leg around his hip, holding him close to you, humming pleasantly when you feel the growing bulge in his shorts. being this close to him makes you impulsive and you know that all you have to do is rub against him once and he’ll fuck you against that tree. but your conscience wins out and you pull away, ducking out of his hold quickly, panting lightly as you touch your lips with the tips of your fingers.

“we need to get back to the others,” your voice is a bit too high when you say that. luffy laughs at your act and plants a wet kiss on your cheek; you bicker with him playfully on the walk back while holding his hand and lacing your fingers together with his.

“i don’t normally do this. i have to go.”

that’s what you said twenty minutes ago, after you’d gotten tipsy enough to have the courage to flirt with the older man sitting next to you. the pub was crowded and you only ever came by if you didn’t want to be recognized. rayleigh had a dangerously devilish charm, one that extracted information out of you with ease.

his voice is thick and rich, his words a pretty distraction — hypnotizing you as you find yourself nodding along to his impetuous plans. he hadn’t intended on sleeping with anyone tonight, but he couldn’t resist himself once he saw you sitting there by yourself, swaying on the bar stool while humming a nameless tune.

you seemed so content to be alone, it was admirable.

he had a bright smile and a laugh that came deep from the soul; you felt your body flush at the thought of kissing him suddenly. you blamed the alcohol for making you foolish, but you knew that wasn’t exactly true.

now you’re seated atop a sink in the upstairs bathroom, whimpering softly as you keep your legs spread for him. your skirt is hiked up, panties discarded somewhere — they were ruined once rayleigh whispered in your ear and suggested you carry on the conversation elsewhere; his hands were skilled, his mouth even more so.

he liked how pliable and supple your body was, how plush and soft your thighs were under his calloused hands. you shivered as he ran a finger along your slit, making you tremble as you keep as still as possible. rayleigh, you come to find, is experienced and passionate; you grow impossibly drunk from all his teasing — to the point that you’re panting and begging him to fuck you.

“all in good time.” his voice is gravelly when he nips at your exposed clavicle, cock hard and heavy; he knows he should hurry up, but something about you makes him want to take his time — so he can see all the frustrated expressions on your face. you pull him close and wrap your hand around his cock, stroking his length, rattling his nerves until he finally gives in.

he buries his cock to the hilt, hips pulling back and snapping forward roughly against you. letting out a breathy moan, you can feel just how slick your pussy is from your arousal. legs wrapped around him, you lean up to kiss along his jaw; he chuckles and indulges you, hands gripping your thighs, fingers likely to leave bruising marks behind from how tight he’s holding you. rayleigh fucks with you with fervor and selfishness that serves as a daunting reminder — that you’ll never find someone else like him after this.

“ace,” you pant as quietly as you can, but you’re struggling badly. the 2nd division commander has you in a back hallway on the ship early in the morning. he’s grinning like a fool, clearly entertained by your insistence on keeping quiet. he kisses you as he knocks his hips against yours, his cock sliding deeper inside your pussy; he holds you up against the wall as your legs stay wrapped around him.

you buck your hips against his, doing your best to match his thrusts, but his strokes are deadly and frenzied.

“wait, wait, ace slow down,” you whisper, sighing pleasantly when his cock reaches a sweet spot that has you clenching around him tightly.

“can’t,” he says in response, breath warm against your jaw, “stay. unless you want to get caught.” he gives you a meaningful look that’s accompanied with a smirk. you purse your lips but shake your head. it would be easier if you could stay mad at him, but he’s too cute and funny and attractive — plus, you like that he’s bold enough to fuck you in public without a care in the world. you hear voices off in the distance and panic, eyes widening as you look back at him.

but ace only winks and tells you to hold on tight.

as you bite down on the fleshy part of your palm to keep yourself from screaming, ace pummels his thick cock into your cunt mercilessly, balls slapping against you loudly. the sound is lewd and tantalizing; you find that you can barely keep up with his thrusts, but you do your best anyway.

apparently, he’s determined to make you cum before your crew mates catch you. and as much as he jokes that he wouldn’t care if someone saw you, a small wave of jealousy passes through him at the thought of anyone seeing you like this. he wants to finish up quickly so he can take you somewhere more private. it’s when he bites your neck roughly and pants against your skin that you cum unexpectedly, a blinding, white hot flash filling your vision as you forget yourself and scream his name.

the rain has yet to let up, not that it matters to you since you’re trapped in yet another argument with your thick-skulled boyfriend. you can’t even remember what triggered the argument in the first place, and because stuff like this makes you extra sensitive, you end up crying.

he sighs at the sight of your face flushing and eyes closing as you try to wipe away the tears, as if they were bothersome and unnecessary. guilt eats away at his chest, making it hard to swallow or breathe; he knows he should apologize, but he’s just so terrible at it. so, he does the one thing he knows how to do — apologize with his hands and mouth.

the mattress is soft beneath him as you straddle his hips and slowing sink onto his cock; you both shed your clothes some time ago, lips swollen from kissing him hungrily, an insatiable need seeping into your pores and making you greedy. you place kisses along the base of his throat, hips rocking forward as he thrusts into your cunt slowly. and while he’d love to just fuck you senseless — something quick and dirty — he knows that you’d appreciate his apology more if he took his time.

so, he does.

you sigh against his lips, fingers threading through his hair, tugging on the short strands. his chest is broad and firm, your nipples harden each time they rub against his light brown skin. slipping your tongue into his mouth, you cradle his face in your hands as he continues to give you broad, sensual strokes that have you whimpering in the most pathetic way against him. he likes you like this, though, and tells you as much when he presses a kiss along your jaw.

he finds forgiveness when you bounce on his cock a little harder, his hands rough against your skin as he grabs onto your ass to thrust into your pussy at a devastating pace. tears coat your eyelashes, but they primarily because zoro’s fucking you like he loves you. and maybe he does; you don’t want to think about that too much, because the intimacy behind it scares you.

jealousy, you think, looks good on him.

sanji rarely likes to show his true jealous side to you, it’s less playful and much more charged, possessive but you don’t mind that at all. earlier, zoro had offered to help train you and before you could turn him down — you’d seen firsthand just how brutal he is with his workouts — sanji was already up in arms over it. they argued for the entire afternoon, but by then you were already annoyed over the situation and dragged sanji off to calm him down.

his face is flushed when you kiss him suddenly and pull him into a broom closet without thinking too much about it. you can’t remember if you locked the door, but it doesn’t really matter. all you care about is wanting to give your silly boyfriend a little bit of attention.

your idea of giving attention is rubbing his half-hard cock through his pants, smiling slyly against his lips when you feel him shiver. in one fluid motion, you sink to your knees, fingers quickly unzipping his pants and tugging it lower. you pull his cock out and admire the shape of it, the slight curve always made your mouth water; before he can say anything, your tongue darts out and swipes at his slit, the pre-cum slightly salty in your mouth.

you make a big show of licking your lips, which only causes another flush to stain his cheeks. whenever you get like this, he has no choice but to follow your whims; he likes that about you, a lot. that you take charge and keep him grounded whenever his feelings get to be a bit too much for him to handle.

he opens his mouth to apologize, but you kiss his tip and he forgets all about it, mind short-circuiting momentarily, which gives you the opportunity to take him by surprise again.

“i don’t care that you’re jealous,” your voice is honeyed and sweet, wrapping itself around him comfortably, a lust-filled haze taking over his mind when you wrap your lips around him and suck. you run your tongue flat along his length, taking your time to lick all over before you take his cock into your mouth completely.

sanji’s breath slows and he does his best to not fuck your face, but then you’re massaging his balls and bobbing your head faster — so he does the most impractical thing and bucks his hips forward and thrusts his cock further down your throat. you gag around him, the pressure intense but welcomed; if he didn’t already know that you like it rough, he’d feel bad — and he still does, but he hasn’t voiced that out loud just yet. you don’t care though; truly, you don’t. you just want him to feel as relaxed as possible, but how can he relax when your mouth is warm and wet, when you’re looking at him tenderly, like you’d be on your knees for him every day if he asked you?

you let him have his way, and he doesn’t last very long, but you keep still, hold onto his thighs, nails sinking into his skin when his cock goes a little too deep. when he sees the tears roll down your cheeks, it ignites something in him and he cums in your mouth, your name a soft chant that tumbles out of his parted lips. he feels feverish and dizzy, but very much alive. you rub your thighs together as you swallow the thick load, smiling prettily at him, head tilted slightly while you boldly ask, “do you feel better now?”

he knows better than to piss you off, but he does it intentionally anyway. the captain of the red hair pirates loves pushing your buttons; he likes when you roll your eyes at him, when you pout cutely and demand he take you seriously; he likes when you don’t stop him when he kisses you openly, mouth possessively staking its claim against yours.

if you weren’t so used to his whims, you’d have the decency to act bashful.

you have a short temper that he’s been warned about time and time again; except, shanks doesn’t fucking listen — nor does he care.

so when he has you bent over one of the tables in the kitchen late one night after you both argued and drank and argued again, you have no choice but to forgive him. especially when he his thick cock is buried deep inside your pussy, his large hand pressing down on your lower back as you grip the sides of the table. your legs shake, but you know better than to complain right now. shanks fucks you hard, the wooden table scraping against the floor every time his hips knock roughly against yours.

“shanks, fuck,” you cry out, chest heaving as you try to keep your sanity intact. his chuckles annoy you, but he knows that you only pretend to act annoyed with him because you like the way he makes up with you. your ass bounces back against him, jiggling from the ferocity behind his thrusts.

“careful, doll,” he grabs your hip to power into you — his strokes turning you into a mumbling, delirious mess, “thought you didn’t want us to get caught.” he sounds so fucking pleased with himself, and you hate that your pussy is wet enough that you can take him without much prep. you blush at the thought of being caught and remind yourself to keep quiet.

“oh, don’t stop now on my account,” his voice lowers substantially, you crane your neck to hear him better, and you just know without having to look at him that he’s got a pleased smile on his face. that man works every nerve in your body, but you like him too much to leave him properly.

you press your lips together to stifle another moan, but then shanks keeps his hips close to yours and gives you short, rough thrusts that you struggle to keep up with. with your back arched, you make for a pretty sight; he knows he should finish quickly, but he likes watching you hold onto the edge of the table like it’s your only lifeline. you don’t even have time to process the orgasm that passes through you because it happens so suddenly.

he teases you mercilessly and without remorse, but you take it; you take the rest of his frenetic thrusts, take the way he slides his hand underneath you to rub your clit. your body is much too sensitive, and when you moan his name like that, it flips a switch in him. you doubt you’ll be able to walk properly after this, but you’re not too worried about that; shanks bullies his cock in and out of your needy hole until he’s satisfied, successfully wrenching another orgasm out of you that makes you slump over the table weakly.

“don’t tell me you’re all done,” he presses a kiss on the side of your neck, lazily grinding against you, every bit as greedy as he always is. you can barely stand, but you feel alive in the best sort of way, already forgetting that you were mad at him in the first place.

you knew better and you still didn’t listen.

the restraints around your wrists dig into your skin a bit, but they don’t hurt that much; you squirm around on the bed, not liking that you can’t touch yourself or him. but he told you earlier to behave and you still chose to ignore his warning.

now you’re paying for it.

although, you wouldn’t exactly call this sort of thing a punishment.

law’s mouth latches onto a patch of skin on your inner thigh, teeth and mouth leaving behind marks that serve as little reminders for later. you whimper softly, but he pays you no mind, instead moving to the other thigh, tongue running along your skin. you buck your hips forward to get him to touch you properly, but all he does is click his tongue at you in faux-disappointment.

“seems like you still need to learn,” he says sharply, his eyes a dark amber, the look he gives you is equal parts fierce and mesmerizing. you want to kiss him, to run your hands down his chest, but he won’t let you and you’re upset about it.

when it looks like you’re about to say something that’ll piss him off, he stuffs your panties inside of your mouth to keep you quiet. your pleas are muffled but he pulls your hips close, mouth brushing along your slit, making you tremble with need.

he knows he should probably ease up, but if he doesn’t teach you now, then you’ll keep the same bad habits and he can’t have that, now, can he? you’re nearly in tears when he finally flicks his tongue against your throbbing clit, hips jerking forward when he swirls his tongue around. you can feel your saliva dampen your panties. you close your eyes briefly, ecstasy filling every part of your body when he stops and says, “keep your eyes on me.”

you want to tell him that it’s damn near impossible, but you try to follow his instruction anyway.

law eats you out with purpose and vigor, his mouth a sinful delight as he french-kisses your pussy without restraint. he teased you for so long that your nipples ache from being hard and untouched. you could kill him for that. and law is smug in his own way, enjoying you at his leisure, slurping and licking your pussy with fervor.

you thrash against him and he holds you steady; you can barely keep your eyes open and you feel like you’re having an out of body experience when he glides his lithe fingers inside your cunt. law fingerfucks you lazily, sucking on your clit like it’s his favorite piece of candy. when you cum, your moans are strangled and garbled, vision blurring as you ride his mouth shamelessly, a sharp pain on your wrists from the way you keep tugging fruitlessly.

he could let up but won’t, taking pleasure in watching you fall apart for him; you tell yourself that once you’ve calmed down, you’ll just have to pay him back in kind later when he least expects it.

1K notes · View notes

cali-kabi · 24 days

Text

~ Happy Easter 🐣🍬🌈🌟

Made this piece for Easter I had so much fun drawing this up lil Rainbow Dee loves candies/sweets ;w; Meta Knight is here as well :)🍬🦇

89 notes · View notes

circero · 5 months

Text

Cake Topper and Laughing Jack squishmallows! I thought this would make for a fun art challenge! 🤡🩵🤡🖤🤍

#squishmallows #art style challenge #laughing jack #laughing jack creepypasta #lj #cake topper #oc #clown #clown oc #creepypasta x oc #🍭 Sweet Tooth 🦷#my art 2023

58 notes · View notes

fairyw1ngs · 1 year

Text

#mine #sweet like candy 🍭

173 notes · View notes

abongthadoll · 9 months

Text

#pretty in pink #pink blog #pink pilates girl #pink pilates princess #self care #girlblogger #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #sweet like candy 🍭#sweetest gal in town 🎀🧁˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#sweetest #coquette dollete #bimbo doll #dollette #pretty girls

139 notes · View notes

kingspacebar · 2 months

Text

Icons for a bunch of my splatoon ocs!

33 notes · View notes

jaehunnyy · 1 year

Text

I know I love you

Genre: friends-to-lovers!au, fake-dating!au, angsty but with a happy ending, fluff (in the end)

Word count: 1k

Pairing: fake-boyfriend!Beomgyu x fem!reader

Requested by: anon (song: 0X1=LOVESONG - TXT)

Warnings: one kiss, usage of pet names (angel), a bit of a messed up situation, mentions of clubbing, mentions of Beomgyu being drunk (though he is sober enough), possible grammar mistakes

A/N: nonnie, im sorry it took so long to write this, but i am happy i got to finish it now. i changed the meaning of the lyrics a bit and i used them in different situations, so I hope you don't mind that too much. thank you! ✨️

__________________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

The flashing lights and the loud music defining the club Beomgyu was in were nothing new for the boy. The reason why he kept ending there? Very familiar as well. He often wondered what made him accept fake dating you, because instead of becoming closer, he felt like you were distancing more with every passing day. And still, it was his mistake, because he accepted the deal when you offered to help him with making the girl he loved jealous—not realising that you were supposed to make yourself jealous in this case. And once again, the memories have started to kick in.

"Hey, Gyu!" you shouted, gently nudging his shoulder: "I heard you're in love, hmmm?"

His eyes widened at your question, and the panic made his vision blurry. There was no way you found out, was it?

"Uhm, well, you see—"

"I can help you with that, Gyu! I know you are way too shy to confess, so I have a plan for that. Let's fake date!"

"I don't want to use you for that… you are much more than a rebound for me, Y/N…"

“I offered to do that, and I will be here for you, always. Let's do that, Gyu. Please, use me like a drug."

Let's fake date. Please, use me like a drug. He would have never imagined that he would be in such a situation, but if he said no, you would keep on asking questions, and he would expose himself; so he chose to say yes.

Already tired of the place he spent his last hour in and the aching memory of his mistake, he took his leather jacket and started walking slowly to your house, because even with his foggy mind, he knew you'd always let him in. You were his fake girlfriend, after all. He also took advantage of the silence on the street, engulfed by the pressure of his thoughts, until he reached your welcoming house. One knock, and you were already in front of him, the same, worried look plastered on your face.

"Did you get drunk again…?" you sighed, before letting him come inside.

"No, 'm not drunk," he said, an innocent smile stretching his lips softly: "just missed you."

You gave him a bitter smile, because in the end, you were not the girl he loved, (or so you thought).

"Is this part of our deal?"

"Missing you? No, Y/N, 'm honest with youuuu!" he laughed, clinging into you like a little kid.

You had enough of this painful pretending.

"Gyu… let's end this."

Was he not sober enough, so that he started to hear things? There's no way you would end things like this, right? Did he do something wrong?

"What? What about the girl I like?"

"You don't need me to pull her, Beomgyu. Once you do, you will be happy, and I will keep on hurting myself. It's over."

He felt the need to laugh, you couldn't be serious. It was toxic, but he was addicted.

"Are you saying that I'm the one hurting you, when you did that to yourself?" he asked, hands shaking in anger. Why did you blame him?

"Yes." you simply stated, arms crossed in front of your chest.

"Then why the fuck did you offer to help me one month ago?"

"Because I love you, Gyu. And I would rather have you as my fake boyfriend than not having you at all, but it has become an all or nothing situation, and I want all of you."

You did all of this—because you loved him too? All this messed up situation, for him to find out that you were crushing on each other?

"Y/N… you were the girl I liked. When you found out that I have a crush, I panicked and… I didn't want to give myself away, so I chose to say yes to your plan, even though it made no sense."

You looked at him with glossy eyes, giving up and squishing him into a big hug. There was no point in fighting more, the situation was already messed up. You were convinced he wouldn't remember any of this in the morning, but you wanted to use this opportunity, just this time.

"Gyu, look at me. If you remember this in the morning, kiss me. If not, let's both forget about this."

Even though he was sober enough to think rationally, he played your game once again.

"Deal."

The next morning came with such small steps, that you felt trapped in a never ending loop. Since you didn't have a lot of space in your one-person apartment, you had no choice but to let Beomgyu sleep next to you, his hands holding you close to him all night. You opened your eyes and saw him already looking at you, lips curling in happiness at the sight of you.

"Morning, Y/N!" he cheerfully said, stroking your back softly.

"Morning, Gyu. How do you feel?"

"Amazing, actually. What about you?"

"I'm… alright…" you whispered, trying to understand why he didn't act sick after his drunk state the other day; though, the boy had something else in mind.

He gently cupped your cheek with his hands, pressing his soft lips on yours. The kiss took you off guard, but you didn't lose any more time and kissed him back, full of feelings and love. You felt him smile, pressing his forehead on yours and looking at you softly.

"Say you love me, Y/N. That's all I want to hear right now. Say you love me till the end of the world."

"I love you, Gyu. I love you, and I'm so happy you remembered."

"I love you too, angel, I always did." he said, then pressed a sweet kiss on your cheek.

In the end, everything turned out to be worth it, as you ended up having your own happy ending story, next to the boy you've adored more than anything.

283 notes · View notes

threadsun · 1 year

Text

Sweets🍭 Asks: "OK OK....IDEA

Ian and Joseph...switch bodies-"

Oh Sweets you have unlocked something here, you're a genius!!

I'm going with this not being in the dilfs AU, so they don't know each other at all

Ian:

It takes him a while to notice that he's woken up in a new body

He's not a morning person. He could grow a third arm and not notice until he's had two cups of coffee

So he mostly just blunders around the house, opening doors with too much force and almost braining himself on the cabinets

It's not until he's more awake and staring at himself in the mirror while he brushes his teeth that he notices he's not... him

His hair is the first thing he notices, since it's so dark and different from his usual hair

Then he notices his physique. He's... big. Taller and broader and buffer than he'd ever dreamed he could be

His voice is also deeper than usual, gruffer as well

Once he realises that he's not in his own body, his first instinct is to... explore this new body

His second instinct is to test the limits of how much he can lift now that he has proper muscles

Then he realises he's gonna need a whole new wardrobe because none of his clothes come even close to fitting him anymore

Honestly, he really hopes that he can keep this new body. He's always dreamed about being this big and strong, and he doesn't want to give it up

Joseph:

It's hard for him not to notice that he's suddenly drowning in his pyjamas

Usually they're a pretty tight fit on him, so when he wakes up and they're loose on his body...

He heads to the mirror immediately, with a few stops to pull his pants up and steady himself from tripping over the legs

He's... a twink now. He's really not sure what to do with this information or how to process it

So he sort of just pushes it aside and goes about his morning

It's difficult though, to ignore the fact that he now has to reach up for things that used to be eye-level for him

Honestly, his life has been so weird anyway, he just sort of rolls with it. He doesn't know what else to do

He's a twink now, and he's just gonna find his smallest clothes and try to keep living his life until he turns back

But it's definitely a big adjustment, not being able to lift things he used to be able to or reach things that are higher up

He also can't eat as much as he normally does, which is weird for him

He's not really thrilled about any of this, but he sort of figures he just needs to ride it out until he goes back to normal or just adjust to this being his life

#swwsdj #something's wrong with sunny day jack #sdj ian #sdj joseph #sdj headcanons #18+ only #sunshine #sweets🍭

43 notes · View notes

soleilnomoon · 1 year

Note

May I get a oatmeal raisin cookie, dulce de leche roll, nougat, with caramel on top with Law from One Piece, with a f!reader, please?

hiii angel 😊💕 ty for your patience, i had fun writing this one, something short & sweet as law is the worst and i h8 him (i'm lying ofc).

1.8k words, fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni, a lil bit of angst (i can never help myself ok) mixed w. smut; feat. cute thangs like law being the worst ever, delusion on both law and reader's part, rough (consensual) sex, reader as always lacks self-preservation, but that's how i like her; law likes to think he's above intimacy but lbr he ain't. (if u see spelling/grammatical errors, no u didn't <3)

if he’s honest with himself — and he often isn’t — you brought this on yourself. he’s grown beyond tired of repeating himself throughout the day; he tells you as much after he instructs you to hold onto the backs of your thighs to expose your pussy to him in a way you’ve never done before. there’s something almost clinical about the way his amber eyes take in your body. his gaze is hawkish, a little cold, but also very familiar — leaving behind a blazing path with every passing second.

you knew you shouldn’t have pushed him, but you were having so much fun earlier, and things are always exciting whenever he gets angry. what you didn’t count on, was law reacting so quickly. normally he lets you have your way and then deals with you the next day, preferring to drag out his punishments — but today, you really toed the line. you’d be proud if you weren’t currently in a bind.

one ironclad rule that everyone on board the polar tang follows, is to never disturb the captain while he’s working. on the rare occasions where there’s an absolute need for his assistance, he’ll make an exception — but you’ve never cared about that, often provoking him in front of the others, flirting as you taunt him by not wearing the appropriate attire in the submarine.

trafalgar law thrives on order, on ensuring his crew follows his plans exactly the way he wants them to, and without question, too. you’ve always thought the others archaic and ridiculous for following him blindly like that, and, besides, law makes it easy to tease him. constantly finding reasons to touch him, always making sure to sit right next to him during meals, your hand drifting to touch his thigh under the table, nails dragging down he inseam of his denim.

whenever you act like that, whenever you brush up against him with the intent of rattling his nerves, he has to remind himself that it’s not feasible for him to fuck you on the table for everyone to see exactly how he likes to deal with you. it’s because you know he won’t do it, that you keep poking.

he stopped fighting you ages ago, but he doesn’t let you get away with much in front of the others.

except for today. you actually managed to fluster him in an irreparable way, so he’s teaching you a lesson.

there are books, papers, and pens scattered on the floor near the desk — law shoved them off to drop you on the surface without restriction. you’re on your back, hot tears pooling around your eyes, threatening to roll down your round cheeks without mercy.

when he originally called you into his office, you figured he’d give you a lecture then send you on your way; but the moment you entered, he had you backed against the door, long fingers wrapped around your throat, squeezing tightly. you’re normally not so careless to let yourself be caught off guard like that, but he has height and strength to his advantage always.

you expected him to kiss you then, to make you fall apart without even doing much — but he didn’t, as usual, he always refuses to kiss you. the sting of that rejection somehow always leaves you with a bitter feeling that you swallow with great difficulty each time. you don’t know why you get your hopes up like that; law isn’t intimate, nor does he crave any sort of romantic companionship. you know that, and yet you still can’t help yourself; hope is a dangerous thing, so you unfortunately have to learn that lesson repeatedly.

“don’t move,” is all he says when he slides the tip of his cock inside your tight hole before snapping his hips forward, the motion making your hips twitch and has your pussy clench around him. it’s pure desperation that has you whimpering and pleading with him to hurry up.

he doesn’t listen — and why would he? he’s the one in charge here, not you. still, he doesn’t make you wait for long, as he thrusts his cock in and out, enjoying the way your slick clings to his length, your thighs warm and soft each time his hips meet yours. you bite down hard on your bottom lip, hoping to keep quiet — knowing it’ll piss him off even more, but law isn’t having it. he plucks your lip away from your teeth, cock pounding into you harder, making you choke on his name.

“behave,” he clicks his tongue afterward, but gives you a dark smile. “you’ll take what i give you and like it.” more than like it, really; your mind is a jumbled mess, thoughts bouncing around erratically, heart beating too fast, as if you’re running an eternal marathon. he leans down, licks along your collarbone, nipping at the skin there, hips rolling against yours at a devastating pace. it makes you rethink all the times you acted out, makes you want to repent somehow — and this does serve as some sort of penance, even if you’re getting pleasure out of it.

and he is too; out of your submission, out of his domination of you. it’s always exhilarating when he has the upper hand in any given situation, but with you he’s amplified tenfold, and he doesn’t know why. or he pretends he doesn’t, anyway.

when you plead for him to slow down, he sucks his teeth and speeds up, reminding that he’s the one in charge — and always has been. your pussy swallows most of his length, a feat that he continues to remain in awe of. no matter how rough he is with you, you always manage to survive and he supposes he likes that about you.

your tenacity is dangerous, though, and if he’s not careful he might end up liking you more than necessary. even though he already does. he watches the expressions on your face, the ecstasy despite all your complaints — you just like running your mouth, is all; he knows that now.

law pulls out of you without warning, leaving a aching, vacant feeling in your pussy. you open your mouth to protest, but he motions for you to get on your hands and knees. he hisses in annoyance when you rub your ass against his hardened length; his patience is practically nonexistent, and you feel it when he grabs your ass and thrusts inside you again.

the change in position has you arching your back, a bit of drool gliding down your bottom lip and spilling onto your chin as you reach back and grab his hip. you bounce your ass against him, matching the timing of his thrusts; a warmth crawls around his chest as he watches the way his cock moves in and out of your pussy. he doesn’t know what to do with that feeling, so he swallows back a groan and grabs a fistful of your hair to pull you closer.

your whining grips him around the throat, makes him think about going easier on you — but then he remembers your insolence and drags his lips along the curve of your ear.

“stop running.”

an impossible request, you know that he knows that; but you take it anyway, grateful that he’s fucking you hard enough to make you forget you have feelings for him. you know later on you’ll mull over what you should or shouldn’t have said, but for now you’ll enjoy the way his cock kisses a spot so deep that it has your eyes rolling back. your words are barely coherent when he kisses the side of your neck, and he almost moans your name out loud when you clench around him in retaliation. and, because he refuses to let you push things in your favor, he rubs your clit with his fingers, your wetness dripping down your thighs so prettily, pussy squelching loudly with each thrust of his cock.

you know that this will only end with your heart in torn carelessly into pieces, but you don’t care; the rush that overwhelms you with each orgasm he gives you is worth it. it’s a powerful delusion, one that you’ll keep for as long as you can. law pinches your clit impulsively, and the way you tremble beneath him, the way you cry out for more more more nearly incapacitates him.

but he stands strong, thankfully.

it’s only when his strokes get sloppy and frenetic, that an orgasm seizes control of your body.

“you’re squeezing so tight,” he says lightly, breathing uneven against your skin, pressing kisses on your shoulder, “must be feeling good, hm?” he knows why you can’t answer him, which is why he pushes you back down onto the desk and slaps your ass. you’re not sure if it’s the aggression or the fact that you’re nearly spent, but it’s like your orgasm is never ending. arousal pools around your abdomen as sweat clings to your skin; he won’t last much longer, but he wants to delude himself into thinking he can handle more.

“too much,” you manage to say, pussy overstimulated, sensitive, and puffy; but you still arch against him, still buck your hips backwards, enjoying the way law seems every bit as obsessed with you as you are with him. you know you’ll be sore in the morning, but it’ll be worth it; and you know that no matter what he says, you affect him more than he’s ever willing to admit publicly.

your pussy has him in a literal chokehold, which is always the case whenever he fucks you, but tonight it feels different. he’s not sure what it is, but something compels him to pull you flush against his chest. when you turn your face towards him, he kisses you, the impulse surprising both of you. he cums the moment your lips part and his tongue glides inside your mouth, artful and graceful as it caresses your tongue with familiarity. a flush takes hold of your body, making your skin hot to the touch, but he doesn’t stop kissing you; his thrusts are slower, almost sensual but he refuses to read too much into it. when he pulls away, he tries to catch his breath, heart suddenly much too big for his chest when he realizes what he just did. you don’t bother teasing him about it, as your body is currently out of commission, your thoughts obliterated of anything that isn’t related to him.

he glances down and sees the way your cum spills onto his desk, the sight burned into his mind. you don’t even remember if you locked the door when you came in — and anyone could’ve heard the way law had you screaming, the pleasure much to great to keep quiet no matter how hard you tried. he isn’t worried about that, though; he’s concerned with how he’s supposed to move forward now that he’s allowed you a bit of intimacy and vulnerability. he supposes he can think about that later, so for now he runs a hand down his face before giving your ass a playful slap and commending you for a job well done.

#another fic down 349034 more to go #fic request #500+ followers event #milestone event #🍭✨🍨sticky & sweet event 🧁✨🍭#one piece imagine #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #law x reader #law x y/n #law smut #*washes hands* i am done

296 notes · View notes