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#look im sorry im just. im very proud of myself

slityclayloam · 9 months

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Sometimes I like looking up dyspraxia on google or tumblr as it makes me feel better seeing others like me, but like everytime I am violently reminded just how much it seeps into my everyday life.

Like I have decent movement, I can't remember the last time I fell over and I rarely bump into things. I can now wear turtle neck jumpers without feeling like I'm being strangled. I can type fast on my laptop and rarely have to look at the keys. I can drive, parallel park and reverse park. I can even now catch stuff thrown at me like 9/10 times! All of this is because I've been working on those skills for 19 years, both by myself and through speech and physiotherapy between the ages of 5 and 9.

But then I still have major issues organising my life, I have problems going to appointments and responding to emails. My main emotion everyday is to feel unemotional and when I do feel a real, strong emotion I have a hard time showing it, often apperaing neutral or like I don't care. I still don't fully get some social concepts. My memory can be really dodgy. My handwriting is quick and spidery as it hurts my hand to write slowly and neatly and I can't use anything but cheap gel pens as anything else will smudge. I still drop food on myself or the table daily. I'm still nervous carrying mugs of tea or coffee around, in fact I actually refuse point blank to carry trays of food in cafes, as I worry so much about dropping them and I find the weight and instability difficult to handle. I get tired easily and find it hard to stand in the kitchen and cook for more than half an hour before I just end up in pain, I can't use can openers and I have a hard time chopping food. I really like doing craft stuff with my hands but I find it so hard to continue with that craft stuff as it always comes out looking horrible and I just don't have the patience to continue.

It is hard living in a constant uphill battle, with everyone around you getting on with their lives and being so "hyper" organised. But I've managed to grow so much over the years and I hope that one day soon I can move some more of the things on my "I can't do or struggle to do right now" list, and move them into my "success" or "I can just in my own way" list.

#sorry this is a rant and a half but idk im proud of myself for doing so well #also idk i know its hard to find stuff outside of 'oh you trip over a lot' as there is so many more aspects to dcd that get looked over #and I just kinda wanna let other people know.- esp those just being diagnosed - that there are other aspects of your life it effects #dyspraxia #actually dyspraxic #long post #dyspraxic #god im only 24 but i sound more and more like an internet 'elder' christ i have matured a lot since 2019 #this feels very saccharine for me but its true i am doing better! and i want to continue to do better in my own neurodiverse way!#also apologies for spelling mistakes im also dyslexic ;)

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astrolynnworld · 4 months

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aftercare

pairing: matt x reader

summary: matt takes care of you after rough sex

warnings: aftercare, comfort, kink talk, sweet, romantic, love

a/n: something short and sweet cause all my matt fics are smut

word count: 714

“fuck i’m so proud of you baby. you did so well tonight” matt says after pulling out of me

i don’t respond.

“baby? are you okay?” matt asks

i try to speak but nothing is coming out my mouth.

“you’re shaking princess-“ he pulls me up and holds me against his chest, “can you tell me what’s wrong baby? please?”

“i’m sorry. tonight was just a lot.. i’m not used to you being so rough” i say in a soft tone

“baby i’m so sorry. i didn’t realize that you weren’t enjoy-“

i cut him off

“no no no i did enjoy myself, i just don’t think my body was ready for all this-” i imply

“i mean .. i came three times, i can’t say i didn’t enjoy myself. it was just a lot” i continue in a lighthearted joking tone

he continues to hold me and lightly trace his fingers through my hair

“so.. i didn’t do too much?” he asks anxiously

“no baby, i’m just a bit overstimulated” i say as i lean back and look in his eyes

i could tell he really felt bad. which only made me feel worse

matt would never intentionally hurt me or do anything i don’t enjoy

we do have safeword, if i ever felt uncomfortable im not afraid to use it.

im just so used to a soft dom matt.. not a matthew who’s slamming into me at full speed while pushing my head into the bed so i can’t breathe.

i mean i was done after the second orgasm but he kept going, and i couldn’t stop him. it felt so good

i couldn’t even think anymore. he had his hands around my throat squeezing softly while lightly slapping my cheeks. it was all a lot

don’t even get my started on the hair pulling. i never knew matt even had it in him to be aggressive.

i think what set me over the edge was when he told me to stick my tongue out so he can spit in my mouth. he’s not even into that?

but regardless, it was all very overwhelming so i’m not surprised that i froze up after our final round

“baby?” matt calls out

“hm?” i respond

“did you hear what i said?” he asks

“no..”

“do you want me to run us a bath, would that help you relax”

i simply nod my head and he gets up to run the bath water

no less than a few minutes later he comes back and carries me to our bathroom and sits me in the tub loaded with bubbles

“aww you put bubbles in it? matt that’s so cute” i snicker

he smiles, “i thought you would enjoy more than the regular clear water”

he hops in the tub and sits across from me.

a comfortable silence fills the room for a minute before matt begins to speak

“are you sure you liked the sex tonight? i kinda just wanted to try something new, im sorry i didnt bring it up to you”

“matthew, i promise i enjoyed tonight! i just wasnt expecting it whatsoever.” i reply back

“okay oka-“

“it was really hot actually. i didn’t even know you were into some of these things” i interrupt

“like what?” he asks

“the spit..”

“honestly. i kinda always wanted to try it but i never did in fear that you would hate it” he exclaims

“what? no! that shit is such a turn on.”

“glad to know..” he smiles

i laugh, “boy! stop”

more silence fills the air for a few more minutes until i start to feel the drowsiness take over me

i yawn, “im getting sleepy..”

“wanna head to bed?” matt asks

i nod in response

he gets out the tub and guides me out, matt drains the tub as i dry myself off then we head back to our room

“where are you going?” matt asks

“to find a top?” i reply

“you don’t wanna sleep body to body?..” he questions acting offended

“you’re such a girl” i laugh

we hop in bed and i get comfortable in matt’s chest

“i love you so much y/n”

“i love you more matt”

our last words before the silence is filled in by comfortable snores

————————————————————————

a/n- the end 🫠

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leclsrc · 1 year

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you know it ✴︎ cl16

genre: porn WITH plot (for once?! everyone cheered), humor, bit of fluff... oh inaccurate depictions of the 2022 season sorry

word count: 7k

Charles is a bit disappointed the pretty girl he harbors a crush on doesn’t have him listed as a Formula 1 crush. He is a lot disappointed that you two can’t fuck.

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... degradation, praise, charles is a bit switchy here lol, penetrative sex, a bit of ass play sorry...., oral (m receiving), semi public sex, yeah

title from this. i love u guys im so sleepy

Joris insists there’s some big present waiting for Charles in his car, to celebrate the middle of the season that has, and will no doubt continue to stretch into a period of conflict and strategy woes. He yanks off the beanie sitting on his head, listens to small talk drifting between Joris and Carlos as they all walk toward their cars to alleviate the bubble of nerves in the low of his stomach.

Sure enough, there’s an unassuming box lying on the driver’s seat. Joris slides into the passenger seat after Carlos drives away with his girlfriend, his grin shit-eating and mischievous. The door is half open when Charles takes the box to inspect it. White, with the Ferrari logo printed neatly on the centre (very classy touch), the sides are signed by different members of his team. He scratches through the seal and pulls the flap open.

He’s been given a quasi-official Ferrari box of condoms.

Thirty-six condoms, at that, small squares neatly lined up next to each other. Talk about a welcoming present. Not a camera, not racing memorabilia, not a new pair of shoes. Just condoms. Thirty-six of them.

“A mid-season pick-me-up,” presses his friend, giddily. The shorter male lounges comfortably on the seat, a blissful look of pride on his face. Laughing with exasperation, Charles wedges the box shut and tosses it carelessly into the backseat, preparing to drive. This isn’t his first rodeo with weird gifts—he’s half-sure he got adoption papers from an especially excited fan once before.

“You are such an asshole.”

“It’s also a congratulations on winning literally every race so far present,” Joris adds. It’s hyperbole but has a ring of truth to it. As the season closes, Charles’ chances of holding up the trophy this year increase.

Despite himself, Charles has a better outlook on his chances for the remainder of the season, driving-wise. He’s given it his all so far, and the rest looks promising enough. He only hopes he’s right. Netflix also increased the amount of people getting into the sport, so he’s dealing with tons more fans and nosey DMs, but it’s not too much of an impediment to a hopefully stellar season.

Charles makes a right. “Do you plan to use them?” Joris asks then, a teasing tone taking on his voice as he scrolls through his phone.

“No, not really,” Charles says, lying straight through his teeth.

“You’re a fucking liar, you are.” He whips his head toward Charles, observing his stoic side profile. “You’re single, haven’t gotten laid in months—”

“—weeks.” Corrects Charles with a cough, the defense coming at an embarrassing speed.

“…Case in point. And sports gets everyone horny. And if you didn’t know, Mattia actually OK-ed the condoms, so you’ve basically been greenlit by your boss to fuck half the world. Thank me later. I’m proud of myself.”

“Sports gets everyone competitive. Because it’s sports. Which, you’re conveniently forgetting, is my life profession.”

“Loosen up,” Joris whistles lowly. “You think Lewis got seven titles by being a closed-off celibate? It’s practically tradition to fuck around if you’re single in sports. And, for others, being in a relationship is barely an obstacle, anyway.”

Charles hates to admit that Joris is right—because he is. Racing isn’t racing without the extravagant parties that follow, and the girls and guys brought back to hotels for reasons known to everyone. People from everywhere come to the paddock and the clubs—models, influencers, actors. The pent-up energy has to go somewhere, he supposes.

But even if the little shit is right, Charles still maintains a level of dignity. Ergo, he’s steadfast in his belief that he will not be sleeping around or putting this godforsaken box of condoms to any semblance of use while the rest of the season progresses. He just hopes he won’t eat his words.

—

Monza kicks off with a 1-2 and secures Charles with a comfortable lead ahead Max.

He is high on adrenaline all night, toasting and chugging to the win, snapping pictures with Carlos, proud out of his mind. It’s everything he’s wanted and more, a quench to the thirst he’d developed over the season, a slap in the face to his doubters, a kiss on his. He texts his family, friends who aren’t present, some other people who he feels are deserving of a personal announcement, and pockets his phone.

“Now would be a great time to put that gift to use,” Carlos says at some point, when everyone in the garage is kicking back alcohol and slowly preparing to move the celebrations someplace else.

Charles cringes visibly, having almost forgotten about the dreaded gift, and totally forgotten Carlos’ knowledge of it. Even with the recent win, he’s already thinking of the next, the promise of a two-peat, another podium, hell, another 1-2. The condoms were honest to God the last thing on his mind.

They break apart an hour later, when Charles is heading to the hotel and Carlos is headed somewhere else. He’s almost to the exit when someone calls his attention in a curt English voice.He turns and finds Lewis jogging toward him, outside of his race suit and back in the fashionable apparel Charles merely wishes he could pull off.

“Lewis,” he waves, pacing toward him to save the extra few seconds of waiting.

“Amazing, amazing race, man,” the elder compliments. “You’ve got the best chance at the title here.”

Warmth melts into Charles’ body and he offers praise back, which—praising Lewis is just about the easiest thing in the world. Nerves bleed out of him as the conversation continues, the atmosphere of a finished race a welcome accompaniment to their strategic talk.

“Headed to a party, yeah?” Lewis asks when they’ve both exhausted the topic. Charles gives a half-hearted shrug, already energized enough from such a momentous win, and he nods in response. “Nah, I get it. Sometimes you just gotta sleep. But hey, if you’re ever free, we should go get dinner sometime.”

—

The “dinner sometime” happens in Singapore. Having gotten P1 beside Lewis and therefore once again high off the adrenaline, Charles claps Andrea on the back and retrieves his phone to view two texts. One reads Put the condoms to use yet, champ? from Joris, and the other Can I take you up on the dinner? from Lewis. One goes answered and the other goes muted on his iMessage.

A little something he failed to remember was Lewis’ plant-based diet, a fact that hurtles back toward him when he can’t find steak on the menu of this classy, hole-in-the-wall type of restaurant. Of course Lewis would know these types of places, he thinks. He’s a millennial semi-hipster with a separate Instagram account for his dog.

Charles ends up ordering pasta, and Lewis beside him orders a cacophony of very vegan, hippy sounding meals, the quantity of which could feed the two of them. “I hope you don’t mind,” Lewis says when the waiter departs, “but a friend is actually joining us tonight.”

“Sure,” Charles says honestly. As long as it’s not some deranged hyperfan, he does well in social situations. Right then, Lewis calls someone over. Charles looks up, squints through the dim mood lighting to try and make out the nearing figure. And then you’re sitting down across them, smiling softly, exchanging hellos with Lewis.

A little something Lewis fails to remember is his “friends” can just as well be called “celebrities,” because he is, after all, a sporting legend. So if Lewis says “friend,” Charles will assume it’s a “friend,” and not a world-famous model whose face is plastered everywhere on and offline.

“Charles Leclerc,” he says blankly.

You introduce yourself, sliding easily into a bout of questions, apologies for missing the race, you’re impossibly jetlagged, it’s crazy. Lewis chips in with something about how he’s already ordered food for the both of you, and this and that, and Charles is hopeless, staring at your face the entire time. He hopes he looks more sexy than aloof or, worse, starstruck, because it’s turning out to be the kind of situation where he looks like the deranged hyperfan, and not the other way around for once.

To be clear, Charles isn’t a fan of you. He just knows of you, because honestly, who doesn’t at this point? You’re talking on and on about how your latest shoot with Jacquemus was a pain because you shot in a tank top in sub-zero weather, but you express it like it’s the most profound topic on Earth.

Lewis turns to him and, in an (eventually successful) effort to include more of Charles in the conversation, goes, “She’s a big Formula One fan, Charles.”

Okay. Common ground. Charles lifts both brows smugly, his eyes flickering back over to you. “Really?”

You meet his eyes and smile, looking downward and blinking owlishly. You’re so pretty, long lashes fluttering as you blink and try to find an answer. Christ, you’re so painfully his type.

Lewis chimes in again—“Really. And not just because she and I are friends. I mean she was into racing before we got acquainted. Honestly. Quiz her and everything”—then excuses himself to “take a call.” (His phone wasn’t even ringing—total bullshit—but Charles is ultimately grateful for it.)

You make a face of shut up toward the departing Lewis, and Charles exhales a quiet laugh at your defiance. You clear your throat and come up with an answer.

“I’m not a big fan,” you say. “I’m more of a casual, ‘every once in a while’ type of fan.”

“That’s what every big fan of sports says,” Charles says smoothly.

“Is it?” You ask, cocking your head to the side, making a tch noise. You chuckle before going, “Well, if you insist, I’ll be honest. I didn’t want it to come to this, but okay. I am a fan… of Red Bull.”

Charles fakes extreme offense, his jaw dropping as if totally scandalized. You laugh, throwing two hands up in faux surrender. “Not Red Bull,” he says, his tone making him sound even more devastated. “You’re telling me you—don’t tell me you think Max Verstappen is attractive.”

“I mean, a bit!”

Charles makes sarcastic sounds of disapproval, and you laugh. Charles leans forward, and you do, too, both of you smiling. “So you’re into the angry drivers?”

“I’m not into a specific kind of driver,” you say casually, your tongue peeking out to lick over your bottom lip. Your voice is as soft as it is firm, slow and demure, matching the way your eyes glint. You’re impossibly pretty. He almost can’t handle it.

“So who’s making the cut?” He prompts, interested.

“Well, for starters, drivers who are my age,” you say slowly. “I turned twenty-four this year, so anyone within that bracket.”

“Oh?” Charles pretends to delve into deep thought, teasing. “Maybe Stroll? He’s very funny, speaks good English. You can never really say no to a Canadian.”

Your face warms, and you hope your flustered state isn’t too obvious as you shake your head. “He seems fun, but I prefer somebody a bit… a bit older.”

“Older…” he hums. “Pierre, perhaps? Tad bit older, real charming, great driver. I can introduce you. We’re good friends, you know.”

You click your tongue, smiling shyly. You bite your lip and it takes everything in Charles to not turn on his horny gears when he sees you, big eyes and lip bite, look so pretty. “You tease me,” you say meekly. Charles covers a cough with a chuckle and adjusts his position on the seat.

Later, after Lewis comes back in (“Long call, eh? It was about Roscoe.” Bullshit again) and you all get to order drinks, and you’ve departed in your private car, pressing an air kiss to Lewis and waving goodbye to Charles, he turns to the Mercedes driver and hums.

“Next time you have one of these”—he points to the restaurant, gestures to the front door—“dinners, let me know, okay?”

“Ah.” Lewis winks, smirking. “I’ll be sure to.”

—

Understandably, your schedules never seem to mesh well together. Lewis ends up giving Charles your number as compensation.

He stares at the contact longer than he’d like to admit, when he’s marinating in the sweltering heat of Austin. He’s finished much of his work for this half of the day so he’s mostly watching the engineers work on the last bits of modification for Sunday; he cherishest the free time and drafts, reads, and rereads texts, scours Google and Instagram for pictures of, and anything related to, you.

There’s a few new articles about buying a new car (a Benz, much to Charles’ chagrin) and new photoshoots intermittently scattered across Europe, with all sorts of brands. He sees a picture you’ve posted of yourself smiling at the camera and thinks of how pretty it would look as his lockscreen.

Am I seeing you soon? He texts finally. He hopes it’s enough to let you know who he is.

Hopefully is the reply. He smiles the whole day.

—

You’ve been texting and calling almost everyday, conversations stretching continents. He only sees you next in Mexico, Friday night, at a club Lewis has rented out for a crazy price that will no doubt be replenished in days anyway. He’s dropped to second here, but the thrill riding in him makes up for his disappointment. The place is so crowded—everyone and their mums seem to have been invited here—room blinking purple and blue, each step vibrating with the heavy bass of EDM. He catches you right as you exit the washroom area, and you look pleasantly surprised to see him.

He saw you earlier, when you were doing shots of tequila and chatting with with Bella and Lewis, but just as quickly as he spotted you, you’d dipped back into the sea of people. Now is better, he thinks. You two are alone.

“Charles, hi,” you say casually. You’re wearing a tight top and a short skirt that, despite Charles’ best efforts, always cast his gaze downward. He wonders what’s underneath, hungers to get his hands there. But he’s nothing if he’s not patient, willing to play the long game.

He takes a step forward, his gaze steady on you. Charles isn’t the tallest driver, but he’s got a big presence. You swallow, taking a step back to accommodate him. He smirks. “You look pretty.”

“You flatter me,” you say thickly, smiling, inviting him closer. The air is hot around the both of you—when your eyes flit around, they see nobody. You’re alone together. His eyes pierce into yours so deep you feel like breaking eye contact, exhaling as you take another step back—evidently, you’re distracted, because you stumble.

His arm circles around your waist, and once you steady, the hand moves down to your hip. It stays, a reminder of what you might be getting soon. You smile curtly, wondering what this might look like to a bystander, a stranger. Somebody might want to piss and walk in to see the strongest world champion contender’s hand on Chanel’s poster girl’s waist.

“Is this okay?” He asks softly against your ear.

“More than.” You say, breath shaky. “It’s more than okay.”

He chuckles. “Good. I’d hate if we couldn’t fuck before Abu Dhabi.”

Your finger traces down and wraps around the belt loop of his jeans. “Who said anything about fucking?”

Charles exhales a laugh, his lips curling upward into an amused smile. “Ah? I can’t fuck you, then?”

“I’ll let you fuck me when you’re holding up the world champion trophy,” you say sweetly, tugging him closer. “That’s okay, right?” You stare up at him, blinking, pouty. He wonders, is this how you might look with your lips wrapped around his—

“That’s about a month away.” His composure barely wavers, his hand traveling lower, blunt nails digging into your ass. Your breath hitches.

“I’m aware,” you say lowly. So be it, Charles thinks—he’s got thirty-six condoms for a reason.

“Define fuck,” he says, voice rough.

“Penetration.” You’re quick with it, cocking your head to the side. You lean back confidently, testin him, eyes batting flirtatiously.

It’s time he get a little creative.

—

Daytime weather is hot and the paddock is swarming with people, but Charles has his sights set on somebody sitting in the Mercedes hospitality. He manages to get out of morning meetings earlier, wedging himself out of the room and passing by a mirror to fix his hair with admirable concentration. He’s in the middle of combing through it when a force tugs at the hem of his polo, causing him to stumble backwards.

“Uh—Carlos? What the hell?” He asks, brow raised defensively. Facing him are Carlos, Joris, and Pierre, arms crossed over their torsos and amused expressions on their faces.

“What are you doing?” Asks Pierre, cocking his head to the side.

“Fixing my hair.”

“Pussy appointment?” Joris interjects; the vulgarity of his statement earns him a poke on the side from Carlos, who clicks his tongue.

“Wh—I don’t—”

“You are shit at lying, mate,” says Pierre, his lips curled into a devious smile. “Who is it?”

“It’s nobody,” he lies.

“Charles,” says Lewis suddenly from behind them, waving his arms to get the former’s attention, “are you going to go over and say hi?”

Hook, line, and sinker. He’s been caught. “Well, well, well,” Carlos starts, mischievous.

“Guys—” Charles says, attempting to make an excuse.

“Looks like your vow of celibacy isn’t so far off after all,” Pierre adds. “That one over at Mercedes is going to break it, eh?”

“Yeah.” Joris says, smirking. “Lucky George, huh.”

The three face him, incredulous. “I was kidding,” he fibs, once he realizes his epiphany is wrong. “Kidding.”

Charles walks off, and ends up seeing you right where he expected you, sitting beside Lewis in a tiny dress with your hair pinned up into a bun. Almost naturally, your words fall into the flirtatious back-and-forth you’d started at the dinner, hyperaware of the cameras snapping your pictures. At some point, the Brit excuses himself to “take a call” (again, bullshit) and leaves the two of you alone.

“See anything nice on the paddock?”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” you say with a teasing smile, head cocking to the side to gauge his reaction. He chuckles.

“Did you get a picture with Max?”

“Only a ton.” You pause. “And Daniel, too.”

“Ah, you’re just crushing on the whole paddock, now are you?” He pokes his tongue into his cheek, leans forward.” Uh, Checo?”

“Pass,” you say with a nose scrunch. You’re so fucking pretty.

“Lewis.”

“God, pass. He’s not ugly, but he’s my brother at this point.”

“Pierre.”

“Horribly French, but… smash.”

“Are you not into the French?” He smiles. “Good to know. Hmm—Carlos.”

“I’d be stupid to say anything other than smash.” You narrow your eyes, licking over your lips. “I’m into the Ferrari guys, is the thing.” His gaze travels to your crossed legs, long and disappearing into the hem of your dress.

He smirks. “Are you?”

“I really am,” you hum.

“Are you staying long? All weekend?”

“Yeah, I’m free from work for now,” you say casually. “Any recommendations on what fun things I can do here?”

“I can think of…” he says, smirking a little. “A few.”

—

Stupid places to have sex, number one: a motorhome.

Still, Charles is crowding you up against the wall of the room, swallowing the whimper that leaves your mouth with his own. And still, this isn’t sex. At least not the kind he wants the most. He mentally praises Carlos for being able to decipher the typo-laden text he’d sent out on the way here, one hand around your waist, the other barely capable of typing with how fast his brain ran. Clesr the fuckng room npw now npw it read. Thank God.

Your mouth tastes like champagne, and everywhere else smells divine. Your hands roam impatiently over his shoulders and you make muted noises of frustration at your inability to pull his shirt off. You settle for letting your hands crawl underneath it, stroking over his abs.

“D’you remember what I told you,” you pant, his lips insistent on your neck, “at the club?”

“Yeah,” he says, grunting at the memory.

“Okay.” You breathe. “Let me suck you off.”

“Fuck,” he groans. “Jesus. Okay. Fuck.”

You giggle, and he watches intently as you drop onto your knees, looking up at him through thick lashes. You’re insistent, pulling the zip of his jeans down and tugging his cock out. It’s pretty, thick like the rest of him, already hard.

He’s at his limit, having you here like this, on you knees and stretching your lips around the tip of his dick. Your eyes barely leave his, fluttering as they tear up when you take him in your throat.

He throws his head back, squeezes his eyes shut, lets a hand unpin your bun and thread itself into the untangled hair. If he looks at you, he’ll see your head bobbing up and down on his cock, and he genuinely needs to hold off the orgasm first.

He rocks forward into your mouth and feels your throat close up around him. That’s enough to weaken his resolve, send grunts out of his throat that he can’t keep quiet.

“Oh, shit,” he says, feeling every part of your mouth and throat around him, warm and tense. He can’t help but thrust harder, steady but not too rough, growing more aroused with every sound of you choking on him.

His gaze flickers toward you. You’re teary-eyed, lips dotted with spit, choking yourself on his cock. Just for him, here in public. You pull off, blinking tears away from your face and looking up at him smilingly.

He laughs, guiding his cock back into your mouth, watching the way your brows knit together, pleading, almost. You're at his mercy, he thinks, thrusting harder, listening to your coughs. He loves seeing you like this, innocent face messy and slick with spit and precum, eyes big and needy.

“You like that?” He grunts. “Look at me.”

You nod the best you can. Yes, you want to say. Give me more, I love it.

“Yeaaah, fuck. I know you do,” he says through his teeth, staving off his orgasm the best he can before he releases all over you. The image alone of streaking you with his cum, claiming you all over-eyelashes, tits, cheeks splashed with cum-is enough to send him closer to the edge. “Gonna cum,” he grunts.

You moan around him, the vibrations causing his eyelids to flutter. You shake your head, pulling off and wrapping your hand around his dick, stroking slower. “Not yet,” you say sweetly, watching him throw his head back in pleasure and frustration. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair, exhales shakily.

“Shit.” He whines. “Come on, baby. Make me cum.” He cups your jaw, stares down at you.

You stroke him faster, lip between your teeth. “Okay,” you say with a smile. “Cum for me, Charles.”

He stops staving himself off, falls into the pleasure and relief of your hand around his cock until he’s tense all over, knitting his hand into your hair and pushing you backwards so he can press his tip on the flat expanse of your tongue and let his cum shoot there. It drips from your tongue and lips onto your chin and you giggle, swallowing it, scooping up the rest to push into your mouth.

You stand, licking your lips slowly. “I owe you,” he pants, zipping himself up. Already he’s thinking about what he can do to you in return. Tease you, like you did him, bend you over his lap or sit you on it and make you whine and writhe and wait and cum.

“I’ll hold you to that, champion,” you murmur, kissing his cheek and slipping back outside.

—

Ferrari’s advice is shit and despite his good mood and quick-witted driving, Charles finishes in fifth—not too shabby, but disastrous for his overall standings.

He suffers through a horrible debrief where attempts to defend his honor go unheard, his mood wilting and wilting until he’s at the media pen and ushered in front of some network he hasn’t heard of. They’ve probably paid to get a good seat here.

He’s in a shit mood, he hasn’t seen Joris or Pierre or you in hours, and has only faced red-faced frustrated superiors and now, wide-eyed journalists with loose mouths. The media’s done the mandatory speculation between the two of you, so he already expects questions of that variety, but it’s still hot and angry when he does.

Are you banging the Marc Jacobs model? The Irish reporter asks with a wink, so very unprofessional and not at all belonging to reputable media. The hot leggy one who has fuck me eyes?

Charles clenches his jaw, rolls his eyes, says fuck off mate and shoves him backward a little, then walks away and readjusts his cap. The clip makes Twitter and he feels even worse with the amount of troll accounts telling him to Jeez, take a joke.

After the ordeal, in your hotel room, you sigh softly and run your hands through his still shampoo-smelling hair. “You didn’t need to do that,” you say, a bit strictly. He knows you’re grateful, though, and a bit proud.

“I wanted to,” he insists softly. He forgets to leave before morning; when he does, he forgets his official Ferrari shirt hanging on the seat, leaving in a spare one instead. It’s got his number across the back. You don’t tell him.

—

In between Mexico and Sao Paulo, he manages to catch a flight to New York to peek into one of your photoshoots. It’s for Chanel and he’s half-sure he’s taken more pictures of you than the official photographer did. At this point your vague relationship status has caught onto headlines everywhere, and he doesn’t miss the curious murmurs from paparazzo that follow him as he enters your apartment later to greet you.

You’re in a pair of shorts and a tank top when you open the door, greeting him with a tight hug and leading him inside with a loose grip.

“Wine?”

“Please.” He eyes the wide area, the big floor-to-ceiling windows and the art on the walls. “Hungry?”

“Mmm.” You hum, sliding a glass toward him. “Starving.”

“Pizza?”

“Something else.” You smile. He tears his eyes away from your tits, poking out of the thin cotton, and coughs.

The both of you end up on the couch, your legs draped over his as you talk about racing.

He’s ranting about how he’s neck to neck with Max now, and the final verdict will likely be decided at Abu Dhabi, a fact that sends nerves all through him. You’re listening, you really are, but it’s difficult to keep listening because his hand, big and rough, is stroking your bare calf as he talks absentmindedly.

You offer the occasional mmm-hmm and uh-huh and even the oh really to sell it, but he doesn’t seem to be conscious of how many sparks are coursing through you because of his hand on your leg. He just talks and talks, accent curving into curse words elicited by the competition.

And his voice, rough and deeper when he slides into Italian phrases, gets in your head, reminds you of the way he’d moaned when you had his dick in your mouth. You like that? he’d said, panting, heavy, hot. His hand remained in your hair, controlling you the same way you did him. Fuck.

When you blink, he’s stopped talking, and has likely noticed your wandering imagination if his teasing smile is anything to go by. You cough, clear your throat, adjust your thighs. You’re thinking—you can’t stop thinking—about what happened in Mexico, not just in the motorhome but in the club where he’d let his hand sprawl over your ass and stay there, possessive.

The tension rises. I owe you. He really does. You reach over and grab your phone from the coffee table, snap a few pictures of him. “—Hey!” He protests, scrabbling to grab it from you while balancing his half-full glass. “I look god awful.”

You stand up, review the picture. He looks so impossibly handsome. “You’re right, you do,” you say, pouting.

He reaches over again, chuckling, and you avoid him. “Foul play!”

“Tch. At least show it to me,” he says defeatedly, so you do: presenting your screen to him.

Quickly, he makes a grab for it, but you just escape his grip, ending up right in front of him and leaning over. You’re losing your balance, digging your toes into your carpet to maintain stance. He spares a glance at your shorts, riding low on your hips, showing a bit of thin lace.

Charles tugs you forward by the hem of your top and then takes your wrist into his grip—the force of his grab makes your tits shake underneath your flimsy tank top. It’s dragged down so far your tits are spilling out. His eyes flicker down to them, dark, and a pretty smile spreads across his face.

“Come on, give it,” he challenges, eyes narrowing a little. You bite your lip, inwardly liking this a little too much—being at his mercy, trapped in his strong grip. You’re flustered and it shows.

He wrestles you onto his lap with ease, his arms steady around you. You stare downwards, dark eyes meeting his, hand on his broad shoulder for leverage. He’s so pretty, you think, so hot and handsome and you need him right now. Through his jeans you can feel how thick he is, his dick growing, getting hard and huge under you. It feels big even through a few layers—you can’t help but imagine how it might feel inside you.

Your phone clatters to the carpet behind the couch. “I win,” you say breathlessly.

He grabs your hips and jerks his upward, letting his stiff dick press up even more against your shorts.

“I think I’m the winner here,” he says gruffly, hands feeling you up all over. He thumbs at your chest, rubbing over your tits. You shiver—it feels good having him on you like this, your mind turning to mush.

“Shut up,” you laugh, shakily. A hand wanders in between your thighs, another coming to squeeze your barely-covered ass. You can’t focus on much, just his hands roaming everywhere and his hard dick pressing against your core. He shoves your hips downward again, his cock hard and perfectly against your pussy.

“You feel that?” He asks; it leaves him in one low breath.

“Yeah,” you say, whimpering. “I want it.”

He grinds up against you again, his thumb teasing the hem of your shorts. Closer to where you want it. “Don’t think you could even take it, baby.”

“I hate you,” you say. “You know I can.”

He laughs. “We’ll see, yeah?” You find a rhythm of grinding down against his cock, nestled right against your ass. He’s everywhere and you can’t handle it anymore, finding yourself craving him more and more.

You moan against his neck—and then come to your senses. “No.”

He smirks when you pull away. “Tempted, were you?”

“Not…” You pause. You’re sweaty, flushed all over, and your panties are sticking to you from how wet you’ve grown. “Not very.”

—

Abu Dhabi is a son of a bitch.

It comes with meetings, meetings, debriefs, calls, meetings. Everything is riding on the night’s race, the flurry of social media a welcome source of anxiety for him as he watches the hours whiz by. You’d missed seeing him, understood he was busy; you send a selfie to compensate and it gets him calm enough to last the pre-race buzz.

Time speeds by with lunch, coaching, drills, talks with Carlos and Mattia and even Max, who displays support as strongly as competitiveness. Before he even realizes it, he blinks and he’s in his suit, adjusting his balaclava, inhaling, exhaling. Everything is just the way he likes—needs—it to be.

He drives himself to P2 behind Max, eyes shut.

All else seeps into him, natural method, natural routine. He flexes his thumbs. Through the team radio his engineer goes good luck, and Charles’ practice bleeds into his subconscious. The air is heavy, with tension and excitement, the division of blue and red. Everyone’s eager to see who claims the title.

The lights go off and everything is left to skill, blurring into noise and turns and expletives yelled into the team radio. He can’t even feel himself think, turning with dexterity and overtaking with the kind of vengeance he hasn’t let out in a while.

For all his trying, Max keeps up just the same, keeping a neck and neck level for the relative entirety of the race. They’re milking out the last few laps together, and Charles feels every fibre of his being work toward this, just this, nothing but this right now. Nothing but the finish line.

You got this, Charles, says the engineer, voice heightening. Maiden world championship.

He nods to himself, trusts his instincts and when he catches sight of the finish line, he thinks: he’s the best driver on the grid.

So he revs faster, and the rest descends into—

Absolute fucking chaos.

—

He’s smiling when he approaches the reporter, who’s already holding the mic with wonder. He asks for a message in Italian, then reminds him—and the crowd—that, in case he forgot, he’s world champion. Charles thinks he genuinely can’t ever.

“What are you doing to celebrate?” He asks then, smiling.

Sweaty, with damp hair and shiny skin, he smirks and leans closer. “Someone, I hope.”

—

“Hey there, champ.”

You’re already leaning against his hotel room door when he gets there, after the chore of wrestling himself free from the rest of the team pressuring him to get drinks. Carlos helps out, babbles something or other about Charles being “busy with something else”—which isn't wrong, not at all. He offers a smooth wink, bending down to kiss you.

Your mouths meet, softly first then increasingly messy as he pins you against the door. You push away, breathing heavy. “I don’t know what you’re into, but I don't want the top floor of this hotel seeing us fucking.”

“I wasn’t into that, but now that you brought it up…” You swat his arm and he laughs, unlocking the door and pulling you inside. You’re clinging onto him—his arms, his chest, anything, kissing up his neck and jaw. He groans at how needy you are. All for him, he thinks. Probably soaked through your panties and it’s all because of him.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he says gently, voice low as he leads you to the bed. He catches sight of your shirt and a brow raises. “Did you buy that?”

“Hmm?” You look down, following his gaze and blinking. The shirt you’re wearing is loose, hanging off your shoulders and hastily tucked into your miniskirt so it looks like you actually have trousers on. “Oh. No, this is yours.”

“Mine.” He smiles a little. “You look so good in it, princess.” His hands mindlessly grope at you, hungry, sneaking underneath your skirt to feel at the lace there.

In retaliation, you lean forward, unbutton his jeans and tug at it.

“You left it at one of my”—you gasp, feeling his finger sneak its way beneath your panties—“my hotel rooms.”

“Pretty girl, pretty shirt, pretty lace, yeah?” He tugs, lets the garter of the skirt loosen and fall off your hips on its own. “Red.”

“You take too long,” you groan.

“You’re just eager,” he laughs, thumbing at your clothed cunt.

You’re so wet, evident even in the lazy circles he rubs over your entrance. You’re aching, desperate, begging almost. So he gives you what you want, maneuvers you onto his lap and pushes your (his) shirt up to stuff your mouth with it.

It won’t work for long, but it’s enough. He pushes your panties to the side and pulls his hard dick out. You’re sitting against it now, leaking slick onto it, at his mercy, branding his name and his number across your back. It’s hot.

He stares at the way you rock softly against him, hungry eyes meeting yours. “You’re so pretty, baby. Ruined.”

“Fuck me already,” you say, voice throaty, innocent.

“Can you take it?” He asks, teasing you, slapping his dick against your clit softly. You whine.

“Please,” you insist. “I want it. Make it fit.”

He’s a massive tease with it, his breath fanning against your skin, hands sticky on where they’ve hiked your shirt up. He lowers you, slower, against the tip of his dick and he watches your eyes flutter when you sink onto it. After ages of waiting. Your grip’s like iron on his shoulders, moans leaving you in quiet bursts of pleasure.

You’re far away, dumb from the feeling, you barely register the way he shoves the shirt back into your mouth to keep you quiet. “So fucking tight, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. It’s muffled, barely intelligible. “For you.”

You’re only able to take it because you’re so wet, so turned on, face and brain filled with nothing but pleasure. He can’t take it.

“Mmmfh,” you say, muffled by the bite of cotton in your mouth. You’re sweaty, flushed, overstimulated—you don’t know where to focus. On his lips against your jaw, his hand on your neck, the way your pussy swallows his aching dick. “It’s so big, I—”

“You okay?” He asks, breathily. Smiling. He’s in control, but still he sounds whiny—almost, if not as desperate as you. “You’ll take it all for me, won’t you?”

“Oh god,” is all you muster, letting him stretch you out even more, gushing all over his cock. “I, I—”

He moans, his grip tight against your waist, watching his dick bury itself in you. “You’re getting me so full,” you whine. “So deep, I feel it—” you taper off into a moan again when he presses hs thumb to your clit, distracting you from the stretch as he finally, finally bottoms out.

“Good?”

You nod. So good, give me more.

You grind against him, let the shirt fall out of your mouth. “You’re getting my dick so wet,” he comments, breathless. “So pretty for me, too.”

Growing antsy, he attempts to move, but you whine. Your turn to tease, you think, after he was a dick to you just now. “Not yet,” you say, lip caught between your teeth. His hands are tight around your waist. Desperate.

You squeeze around him, watch his brows knit together, a grunt leave him in a frustrated exhale. “You wanna fuck me?” You tease against his neck, blinking innocently.

“Yes,” he replies, not missing a beat. You pout, like you’re empathizing with the problem you’re causing; you grind slowly against him and he lets out a guttural fuuuuck. He’s so big, so hard—you can feel every inch of him inside you.

“Tell me again, Charles,” you say with a giggle. You’re so hot like this, face flushed and timid, hips moving slowly. He could cum just from the way you bite your lip, the way a whimper slips out of you when he hits the right spot.

“—Yeah,” he says, sweetly. “I want to—please, let me fuck you. C’mon, baby, can I?”

“Aww,” you tease.

“Can I?” He asks again, voice deep and thin with the need to fuck you, thrust up into you and make you the dumb one. His face is flushed and desperate. “Can I move, baby? Let me, please.”

You’re not stupid. You know—if his flushed, pleading face and big green puppy eyes are anything to go by—that he’s going crazy, growing antsy. But you’re not complaining.

“Hmm,” you say, feigning genuine thought. “I don’t know, Charles. Feels good just like this. And you want to make me feel good, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says.

“Yeah.” You repeat, staring into his dark eyes. He’s frustrated, desperate, flushed all over and sweaty. His fingers dig into your hips. “I’ll make you feel really good, baby, if you let me.”

“Go ahead,” you say softly, “fuck me, please.” And he’s thrusting upwards to meet you halfway. It’s knocking you out, almost, the pleasure of it, the dizzy onslaught of euphoria. He’s stretching you out so well, whining softly into your neck and yeah, you two have waited far too long to have this. You

“Fuck,” he grunts, lids squeezed shut and head rolled onto your shoulder. “Go on, baby, ride it, make me cum.” He cups your jaw, reaches his thumb into your mouth. It’s too much, all of it. He makes you suck on it while thrusting up, dizzying you with his cock.

He grabs handfuls of your ass, teases his thumb at your tighter asshole just to watch your eyes flutter, feel your cunt grow wetter. “I’ll fuck you even fuller next time,” he says; the implication gets you hot.

You bounce harder, chasing release as his thumb teases over your ass, the tip of it just thrusting in enough to elicit strings of moans out of you. “Come on, ride me,” he goads. “So good for me.”

“Fuck,” you pant, “cum in me, please.”

You cum first, writhing around him and riding your orgasm out in lazy grinds over his hard cock. You want to see him cum, see his eyebrows knit and his mouth release pretty whines, feel him claim you inside, hands hot and heavy on your ass. He does, with a guttural fuuuuck, shoving his dick up in you to the base and spurting all his cum in you.

He thrusts, watches his cum leak out of you, fucks it back in, in a vicious cycle. You shiver, blinking coquettishly and watching along—and then you’re both crumpling over each other on the bed behind you. You pant heavily against his chest.

“Hey.” He muses out loud, drumming against your skin.

“Yeah?”

“I have thirty-six condoms we need to go through. Wanna go on a date?”

#f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #f1 x reader

3K notes · View notes

69dias · 2 months

Text

jude + size kink hehe

a/n: hi guys!! this is a mix of two lovely anon requests that I thought were kinda similar. pls lmk what you think! smut under the cut! also im so sorry for the inactivity! I’m trying my hardest to balance work and writing and everything else I have to do and WRITERS BLOCK :( I hope this suffices, thank you for your kindness and patience!!

jude is a big boy. it’s his contact name in your phone, you see it all the time when you scroll through Twitter, and you feel it when he completely entraps you with his long limbs every time he’s around you. it’s a known fact, something he’s proud of, a size difference he’s so attracted to that it’s even gotten you on board, but you just cannot get used to certain things that come with said size difference.

certain things including the way the dull stretch of his pretty cock entering you hurts right now.

he has you on your back, body bared and littered with the love bites he’s left in his wake. jude’s always been sloppy, just a young man after all, desperate to let the whole world know that he’s left his mark on you in any way possible and the way your skin looks right now is nothing but a testament to that.

it’s not like you’re a very impatient person, but every time you catch his eye, see the way his muscles ripple as he strokes himself over you, every time he moves, practically, you feel yourself clench pathetically around nothing.

“judey, please,” you sound whiney, unlike yourself entirely, but the ghost of a smile graces his face as he stares down at you through his lashes.

“yeah, baby? what do you need?”

“need you to fuck me, jude, it’s too much-“

he cuts you off, pressing his cock to your slit, running it up and down until your legs are twitching in anticipation. he lets himself feel it, too, rubbing the leaking tip against your hardened clit, letting out a deep breath as he looks down at where the two of you meet.

“darling, look at your pretty cunt for me.”

it’s a quiet demand, but you’re practically enchanted by the idea of his cock in you. your eyes travel down to where he’s situated between your legs, a warm blush blooming over your cheeks at the sight of how soaked the sheets have gotten courtesy of you.

jude’s own vision is trained onto you, breath labored and cock still pressed against your clit. when he pulls away, you whimper at the loss of contact, but never stop looking between your legs lest he stop completely.

“you see that?”

the question stumps you. you’re not sure what exactly he’s askinb, but the fuzziness in your head has you unable to verbally clarify. he smiles down at you, all gentle and soft and sweet, using the pad of his thumb to stroke your cheek when you tear your eyes away from your soaking pussy to give him a look of complete confusion.

“look at how tiny she is, baby,” he presses bis blunt head against your entrance this time, pushing in slowly until you’re reminded of how big the stretch always is. when you hiss, he stills, clearing his throat for composure. “‘m gonna need to stretch her out, yeah? you think I’ll fit just like this?”

when he sinks an inch in further, you feel yourself leaking, but the sting makes your eyes water still. you shake your head, but he tells you to use your words, to answer him like a big girl.

“no, you won’t — hah — fit-“

“I’ll make myself fit, baby,” he murmurs it into the darkness of the room, slipping in further until whimpers pour out of your mouth. his hands find your clit, rubbing the softest of circles on the swollen nub just so you’re distracted from the stretch of him moving in you inch by inch.

for a second, you think it’s too much, but the way you clench around jude has his hips stuttering, sheathing himself in you a bit more until you can feel him kiss your cervix. the beginnings of a high coil in your stomach; you can feel him so deep that every deep breath you take has your walls fluttering around his cock, and the way his eyes are drawn to your lower abdomen, you’re sure it’s visible how full you are.

he laughs a bit, a breathy chuckle that’s almost delirious, running a hand over the soft skin below your belly button.

you can see a little bulge forming as he pushes in the last few inches, gasping incredulously as he finally bottoms out. your pussy feels like it’s being stretched to its limits, but you only spread your legs further, keen to take whatever it is that he’s giving you.

“you can feel me in your tummy, hm?” you nod, seeing stars behind your eyes every time you blink. “good girl, letting me stretch your pretty pussy out.”

#jude bellingham/reader #jude bellingham smut #jude Bellingham imagines

457 notes · View notes

leclercvsx · 5 months

Text

Shameless | SMAU

Lando Norris

pairings: lando x singer!reader

summary: in which reader is so very shameless that she never ever gets embarrassed for anything she says.

warnings: mentions of smut (?), using other singers music as hers

face claim: Yeji (Itzy)

yourusername

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1,725,826 others

yourusername: damn i always look so good

TAGGED: Chaer_12

chaer_12: you mean WE look so good

yourusername: no i mean what the caption says

user: her face is just so cute 😭

yourusername: thanks, i bought it from my mother ❤️

user: y/n wtf🤨

landonorris: you look beautiful baby❤️

yourusername: invitation to get on my knees?🤭

landonorris: you’re welcome anytime baby

mclaren: this isn’t helping the pr😔

user: no cos how does she always look so good

user: new album when girlie?

—

landonorris

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 935k others

landonorris: p3 baby🧡

yourusername: i gave him the best celebration he could ask for🤪

danielricciardo: i don’t mean to brag but i bought him his favorite takeout 🤷‍♂️

yourusername: i gave him head and my vagina. i think i win.

user: MISS GIRL

landonorris: yeah, sorry Daniel. Y/n won this one

yourusername: 🤭

user: what that tongue do👀

yourusername: wonders. it does wonders.

user: so proud of you😭

mclaren: 🧡🧡

oscarpiastri: 🧡

—

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 739k others

yourusername: i love riding lando <3

TAGGED: landonorris

user: GIRL WHAT

maxverstappen1: i don’t think this was something i needed to know😖

landonorris: baby, i think you need to reword the caption🤭

yourusername: YALL CHILL. MY HORSE IS CALLED LANDO COS I LOST A BET

yourusername: get your head out of the gutters🙄

yourusername: but i do also enjoy riding human lando too😚

user: tells us to get our heads out the gutters then OPENLY ADMITS to enjoying what we all originally thought😭😭😭

mclaren: 😃

yourusername: 😉

user: she’s getting too comfortable on these captions y’all

chaer_12: and what about that second picture? 👀

yourusername: i let him have a snack 😚

—

yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 691k others

yourusername: never beg for anything in your life🫶

TAGGED: landonorris

landonorris: baby, you were begging for my dick literally 20 minutes ago

yourusername: and i still want it, so hurry up🙄

danielricciardo: you guys do know REAL people can see these right

user: im sorry but lando’s comment😰

chaer_12: i will beh

yourusername: me too

mclaren: yes, don’t beg🫶

yourusername: i beg for Lando’s cock in your garage x

landonorris: it’s true

mclaren: 😨🫨

oscarpiastri: 🙄

yourusername: get lost oscar

oscarpiastri: no

yourusername: well, me and lando had sex on your bed when we visited your house last month 🤫

oscarpiastri: i’m killing myself

—

landonorris

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 638k others

landonorris: alright end to the season, until next season🧡

TAGGED: mclaren, yourusername

yourusername: and now you get to spend the next 3 months with me 😍

landonorris: gonna make it so you can’t walk princess

danielricciardo: PLEASE talk about this in dms and not on social media🥲

user: good luck!! 🩷

oscarpiastri: 🧡

mclaren: please behave yourself so we don’t have to apologies on your behalf’s🙃

landonorris: no promises, y/n is very shameless

mclaren: that’s who we’re on about.

yourusername: i’m just bold🙄

——————————

this is so short and just not good lmao but i’ve ran out of plots so pls request some🙏🏼

masterlist | request

488 notes · View notes

ericityyy · 5 months

Note

Hello dear, i dont know if your tired of young sheldon requests but if you are im so sorry, i promise that for future requests it will be another fandom. But i was just thinking about georgie with a female reader where she is very protective over missy and makes sure she is not forgotten or less than sheldon, which george finds very cute.

Thank you so much

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐒𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘈 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘔𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘥.

𝙏𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚: 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘎𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘉𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥’𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺

𝙏𝙮𝙥𝙚: 𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 600

𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

“Y/N, do you think I can join the baseball team?” Missy asked with an insecure look on her face. She’s been meaning to join the baseball team for some time and was about to talk to her father about this, but then she decided to consult Y/N first.

Y/N stopped putting nail polish on the younger girl’s feet to look at her. Missy, although she may always seem fierce, doesn’t change the fact that she’s still a little girl who sometimes doesn't get that much attention from her parents. The attention most of the time is to scold her.

Don’t get Y/N wrong; Mary and George are great parents, but a lot of the time, they don’t have much trust in Missy and Georgie, and for good reasons too since most of the time, the two of them have been troublemakers. However, that doesn't change the fact that they feel inferior to Sheldon due to how their parents treat him. It has always been Sheldon who gets most of the attention.

“I think if that coach won’t let you in the team, I’ll go there myself and give him a piece of my mind.” Y/N finished polishing Missy’s nails, looking proud as ever seeing the girl’s beaming smile. “You are great with the sport, and if he can’t see that, then that old guy must be having some sight problems.”

Missy teared up at her words. She has always treated Y/N like a sister, even before Georgie and she started dating. Y/N always had Missy’s back, when Mary praised Sheldon or when George made comments about Georgie and Missy being less than Sheldon.

Missy doesn’t have a team. Not until Y/N came.

“You always are so kind to me.” Missy sniffled, causing Y/N to coo at her, bringing the crying girl into her arms. “Thank you for being here with me when I need you. You’re my team.”

Y/N pulled away from the hug to wipe the girl’s tears away, giving her a warm smile. She then stood up and grabbed a baseball bat before throwing the ball softly at Missy’s bed. “How about you and I play some ball before you go to your tryouts?”

The two girls didn’t notice that Georgie was at the doorway, leaning, "Well, aren’t you two sweet?”

Missy and Y/N turned at Georgie, the former standing up from her bed and grabbing the ball before running outside her room shouting, “Come on, Y/N!”

Y/N laughed at the girl’s enthusiasm, then turned to her boyfriend, who was smiling at her, and asked, “What is it?”

Georgie shook his head, standing up straight and walking toward the girl, who had a baseball bat on her shoulder and a hand on her waist. Georgie, at this point, decided that he was deeply in love with her. “Nothing.” He put his hands on her waist. “I just love how you’re always there for my sister; you have always protected her, and I love you for it.”

The boy kissed his girl’s cheek, noticing the slight pink hue appearing on her skin as he smirked playfully. He still has that effect on her.

“Well, what can I say? I’m the big sister she never had. I am what you call a sister by heart.” Y/N proudly, albeit teasingly, put a hand over her chest where her heart is, closing her eyes with a smile on her face. Georgie rolled his eyes, despite the chuckle that left his lips.

"Yes, you are, darling. Yes, you are.”

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

hi, i’m sorry this is short but i can’t really think of anything else. but i hope you like this though :>

i’m also fine with the georgie requests!! but yeah i do wish i get to write other fandoms though… it’s okay though!! i enjoy writing georgie cooper imagines!!

#x reader #georgie cooper x reader #young sheldon #georgie cooper #georgie #imagines #imagine #georgie cooper imagine #fluff imagine #fluff #missy cooper #missy #platonic #romantic

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freyito · 7 months

Text

ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ & ᴋᴇɴꜱʜɪ ᴛᴀᴋᴀʜᴀꜱʜɪ + ᴀ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ-ꜱᴛᴀʀᴠᴇᴅ ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ

this ones super self-indulgent, simply cause im in a bit of a mood and i need comfort. so why not write little drabbles with my HUSBANDS!!!! sorry im still working on requests! my schedule is packed and thursdays are about the only days i get to myself, so im working on them, i swear!!!

for more context, there's a couple different ways people can be touch-starved and how people react. i know some people seek out touch actively, but im one of the people who has an aversion to it. that's why it's written like the reader doesn't quite enjoy it!

also, this was kind of inspired by Kocham Wolność by Chłopcy z Placu Broni

cw: male reader, just fluff really, bonus, proofread

-Johnny Cage

Johnny's flashy, touchy, and over-the-top. Of course he is, he has to be. With his status, he wants everyone to know exactly who you are and show you off. You're all his, and only his, and he needs every single one of his fans to know.

So when you shy away from his touch, dodge away from his hand, or even keep your distance the very first time, his heart shatters. He doesn't quite know how to handle it. But he doesn't go with the same approach. He doesn't give up, either.

He's a sucker for physical touch, and if he's denied it, he doesn't know what to do with his hands. He quite literally looks down at them and wonders what he can do.

His first thought is that you dislike him, actually. That you hate him. He has a deep-seated fear of rejection, and for his beloved to turn away from his warmth and love, it stings. He overthinks, and he reacts as such.

Johnny is a 50/50 with being logical. It depends where he is and what environment he is in. However, with love, where he is completely and utterly vulnerable, giving his all to his boyfriend, logic does not take place with his emotions. He does not think that you do not seek the touch he seeks, he craves.

But, before he can let that vile, horrid, agonizing feeling in the back of his throat take hold, there's slight reassurance. A soft gaze that mends his broken heart, if only for a moment. That's when he finally rationalizes.

You don't even need to tell him at that point, he silently understands. Besides, he has other ways he can show his love for you. Spoils you rotten, tells you all he loves about you. See, he can find ways to make up for the lack of physical touch!

Johnny makes sure to ask you before any physical encounter. He asks to hold your hand, asks to hug you, asks to hold you, asks everything. And each time you say yes, he has the biggest grin on his face.

One night, while you two were sitting on the hood of Johnny's car by some cliff,- like those stupid romantic scenes in movies- you lean over to Johnny and rest your head on his shoulder. Your arms are touching, his shoulder provides a comfortable pillow. You feel safe. Gazing at the very few stars scattered in the sky, the night sky's beauty stolen by the city below (and by you, Johnny says). Johnny's beaming. He's trying so hard not to show it, he's trying to act cool. But he can't. He's almost vibrating because of the butterflies in his stomach. He's proud of you, he's in love with you, and god, he's so happy. He leans his head on yours, and whisper all sorts of sweet things, 'I love you', 'You mean so much to me', 'You're the most beautiful man I know', and 'Thank you'.

-Kenshi Takahashi

Since Kenshi focuses on touch mainly in the relationship, he has to re-evaluate how he goes about this without touch. He doesn't start off with it, like Johnny does. But he slowly builds up to it. And when he tries to place a hand on your shoulder, feeling you completely dodge him almost feels humbling.

He's at a loss. But unlike Johnny, his first thought is the right one. Perhaps you aren't ready, you aren't comfortable. And that's okay. He's going to think of different ways to seek out your affection, even though physical touch is the only way he really understands love.

But, he also understands. He knows what it's like to dislike touch, after years of hollow touch and forced affection. And he understands if you just don't trust him enough, he's empathetic.

He'll wait for you, however long it takes. He isn't afraid to admit it's a bit disheartening, but he understands and he loves you and he will always wait for you. He still cherishes your time together, and it isn't spoiled one bit. Besides, he can tell you just how much he adores you. He doesn't have to rely on touch every time.

Like Johnny, he will always ask. But he does prefer that you make the first move, at that point. Any little touch, he also cherishes. Even if it's your hand accidentally brushing against his while walking. You always catch a small smile from him when that happens.

He's happy as is, really. The lack of physical touch doesn't take away anything from the relationship or from you. Simply basking in your presence is enough for you. He adores you, and he knows you're his as much as he's yours. That understanding is really the only thing he craves in the relationship.

He relishes in every little touch you give him, however. Simply holding hands is the most intimate thing to him. He isn't big on PDA, but he loves holding your hand anywhere in public. Even if Sento offers slight guidance to him, he loves knowing you're there to guide him.

The night you finally initiated contact, he fell deeper in love with you. It was quiet, alone, still. In your room, you lay next to him, simply enjoying the pleasures of the mundane. You reach for his hand, and gently trace the ink on his hands. He's calm, collected, but inside burns a fire so bright, that you can feel his body temperature rise. He slowly turns his hand, opening his palm to you. For a moment, your fingers linger, tracing the creases in his hand, before finally intertwining your fingers with his. He turns his head to you, a soft and inviting small on his face. He breaks the silence, whispering an 'I love you, so much', before the silence lay over you two once more.

-Bonus! Johnny Cage AND Kenshi Takahashi

They both agree not to smother you and take their time with you and your comfort. Since most dates and activities will always center around all three of you, they're specifically gentle with you, and are rather hands off with both you and each other (as hard as that is for them).

Just because they are comfortable with each other and each other's touch, doesn't mean they are going to flaunt it. Kenshi believes the ideal is to slowly incorporate you into events. To suffocate you with the idea of touch is too much.

And they do just that. Johnny follows Kenshi's lead, really. Neither of them can live without your touch, and the idea of turning you away is a mutual fear.

When you found yourself between Kenshi and Johnny, simply "watching" a movie from Johnny Dearest, you ended up placing your head in Kenshi's lap, and your legs in Johnny's. You were tired, that was all. Just so happens you had the most comfortable men to lay on. Johnny gave Kenshi the most bewildered look, before realizing the man was still blind. But regardless, Kenshi almost shared the sentiment. However, Kenshi didn't waste his chance. He places his hand on your head, scratching at your scalp. While Johnny just revels in the fact that you've finally warmed up to them.

#*ੈ✩ freyito #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 x male reader #mortal kombat x male reader #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x male reader #kenshi takahashi x reader #kenshi takahashi x male reader #johny cage x reader x kenshi takahashi

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bingusbongu · 2 months

Note

(Sorry I'm about to send like 4 requests /srs)

May. May I request some rottmnt Leon general dating hcs..

-🖋

A/N: HEY BESTIE,,,, dawg really sent me 8 requests,,,, oh well here is my take on Leolanadro dating hc!!!!!! Im tired,,, sorry if this is to short

Masterlist

Rules

Leonardo Dating hcs♡

• he is a HUGE flirt. Even before you and him even began a relationship, he is finding the most wildest pick up lines that he can think of, and blurting them out without even thinking about it

• he would totally get hurt and when you rush to his aid he takes this chance to flirt

"Ow,,, ive hurt myself from falling,,,, for you ;)"

DAWG FELL FROM A BUILDING TO FLIRT WITH YOU WITH HIS BODY BROKEN

• does litterly EVERYTHING to get a blush or a giggle out of you it makes him look stupid (he already does)

•and when he actually manages??? His ego boosts, and he gets all proud of himself. The smugest smile ever

• NEVER uses your real name. He HAS to call you a nickname. From the moment you guys started dating, and even before he had a stupid nickname for you. And you just have to go along with it

• does litterly anything and EVERYTHING to try and impress you. Whether it just be chugging a whole can of soda without burping, he does it just to earn your praise. (He is also alittle insecure,,, make sure he knows how amazing he is ♡)

• he loves physical affection, atleast just holding your hand or tackling you into a hug to cuddle. But i also think he would use words of affirmation. Praising you on every little thing you do, even if you are just sitting there with him, he will just come up with a praise out of nowhere, and not even realize it.

• he also needs words of affirmation from you, make sure he is doing a good job and you love and appreciate him<3

• when he has to leave you or you have to leave, he wont let it happen without getting a kiss from you. Whether it just be a quick peck or a cheek kiss, he needs a kiss before he leaves. And has the biggest grin when he gets it

• speaking if which, when he is out with his brothers without you, he Conplains so much. Complsining about how he misses you and your kisses and your hand in his and the way you lean againts him-

• his brothers had to ducktape his mouth shut because of how much he was complaining about missing you.

• Donnie is getting so tired of here about you from Leo that he had to pull you aside and ask what you see in him. But alittle releaved since Leo goes to you to bother instead of him.

• Mickey thinks you guys are ADORABLE. Having Leo come home after a date and tell him EVERYTHING because he needs to know

• Raph is happy for him! He is just very worried that he is going to get distracted during a battle or something even worse and get himself hurt because he couldn't stop babbling about you

• when he is done with his day, he is immediately searching you our to find you, kiss you, lay ontop of you and tell you about his day and the recent battle. (Def twists the story to make him look like the only hero)

• you have to wear earplugs simetimes at night to drown out Leo from being up or making alot of noise in the middle of the night. Or, sometimes you stay up with him for as long as you can jusr to talk to him or comfort him. Thoigh, i also think he would love to hold you while you sleep. Even if he is awake, he'd like holding you close to him

• wakes you up super early because he is bored

• Dates are normal, going out to a different restaurant each week to try the food. And if there is pizza, Leo always orders that instead

• some of your dates though might be small, like him coming over to watch a show or movie with you

•you are one of his main priorities, alongside His Brothers, Dad, and April. So you bet your ass Leo would go out of his way to protect you and keep you safe. And you're his first concern when a battle is done. Has Donnie scan you just in case so many times.

• hold this poor baby PLEASE, he sp needs it

• he makes sure to drag you along with him everywhere he goes, he dosnt go anywhere without you unless its a battle. He needs to keep you safe and he intends to to so.

• brags about you all the time, mever shuts up about how amazing you are. Telling everyone how you woke up this morning

• HED BE SUCH A GENTLEMSN TOO URGGGG

• he is the type of guy to push you back in the car and close it just so he can open the door for you.

• when you enter the room he is automatically to your side and cracking up the worst pick up lines once again

• if you do actually manage to laugh at one of his jokes, he is already looking at rings to buy you

• if anyone tries to flirt with him, he will decline by going, "sorry, but im... taken." makes it so dramatic for no reason

• if you were to call him at any time and you could be halfway across the city and you need him, he is automatically up and out of the lair running to your destination to get to you he isnt slacking.

• LOVES the fact that you depend on him. Makes him so proud of himself, also gives him another bit of motivation to be a good leader!

• cant go a full day without seeing you at least once. He will show up to your home unannounced and break in. He's done it so many times that you just gave him a spare key.

• your home becomes his second hang out spot. If hes not at the lair, he is definitely hanging in your house and raiding your fridge for food

• his brothers dont question it, they know where hes at

• sends you random memes in the MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, LIKE???? leo honey, we need sleep

• gets so pouty when he has to leave you, but when he does he makes the most dramatic exits like jumping out of the window and shouting "WE SHALL MEET AGAIN, MY LOVE"

• He's so stupid, but we love stupid♡♡♡♡

#rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt leonardo #rise leo x reader #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt x you #gender neutral reader #gn reader #reader insert #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #THE SILLY BLU MAN #one done so far #rottmnt zone

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lostarchivesoforpheus · 6 months

Note

Hello! Could you do Pure Vanilla Cookie x Fem! Ancient reader, whose kingdom is like a spiritual kingdom and The Reader Is just very stressed?? Like, very little time to eat, sleep, ect. How could PV maybe comfort her?? Have a nice day!!

`•- Time for Yourself

pure vanilla cookie x fem reader

summary: pure vanilla notices you haven't been acting like yourself lately. how does he help you feel better?

warnings: physical touch, pure vanilla is kind of a worry wart, also im not super proud of the writing on this one so im sorry if it's not as good as my other stuff :((

a/n: is it bad that when i went to the store today and saw pure vanilla extract on the shelf i thought of pure vanilla cookie

Pure Vanilla Cookie has noticed the lack of letters you've been sending him recently.

Of course, he knows that ruling a kingdom is no simple ordeal, and, of course, there's no way you would be able to send him a letter every day. However, despite that, you've always made sure to send him letters frequently and inform him of every nifty little thing going on in your life.

That is, up until roughly three and a half weeks ago.

You used to send him letters every four or five days to keep him updated on everything going on in your kingdom, and he always wrote back when he received your letters. However, when he responded to a letter you sent about three and a half weeks ago, you hadn't written anything back to him.

He found this behavior very strange, as you were always enthusiastic about being able to talk with him whenever you got the chance. Pure Vanilla Cookie was, frankly, getting rather worried about you and how you were doing. So, he decided to take a trip over to your kingdom to see for himself what was wrong.

When he finally arrived, Pure Vanilla Cookie was quick to stride towards your castle, making haste towards your office, where you spent most of your time. Gently knocking on the door, he quietly entered the room, as to not disturb you too much. He immediately notices your eyebags, the empty coffee mugs littered around your desk, and the way you don't even glance at him when he enters the room, thinking it was just some servant needing to ask a quick question or something of the like. Needless to say, when he spoke up, you immediately turned and stared at him in surprise.

"My Dear, has everything been okay lately?" He gently asks. "Ah! Pure Vanilla Cookie? What are you doing here?" You respond, shocked. You had no idea he was coming, you had no time to prepare, you didn't want him to see you like this.

"Are you alright?" He slowly walks toward you before draping his cloak over your shoulders, "You haven't responded to my letter for weeks, and you look awfully tired. How long have you been sitting here working today?" He looks at you with worry swirling in his eyes.

As you sit there failing to answer his question, he gently places a hand on your head and caresses your hair, sighing, "You need to remember to take care of yourself, you know. You can hardly handle this much work in the state that you're in. Why don't you rest for a bit?"

You look at him with tired eyes, attempting to provide a counter-argument, "I know, I know, but-" "No buts. You're going to go lay in bed and read a nice book to help you de-stress. I'll also fetch you some tea. Then, perhaps you can take a nap. You'll feel a lot better when you wake up," He suddenly picked you up, carrying you back to your bedroom before you can even say anything. Perhaps he was right though, as you were indeed doing a lot better the next morning. Perhaps self-care really is important after all.

a/n: not me writing a fic about self-care at 2 am when i haven't slept and i am in fact not taking care of myself lmao uhhhhhh i promise ill get some sleep once i finish up the rest of the requests i swear i pinky promise i swear

thanks for reading, and remember to take care of yourself! don't be like me lmao

#`•- side hall in the archives: hurt/comfort #fanfic #fanfic author #fanfiction #fanfiction author #x reader #cookie run #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom #cookie run kingdom x reader #crk #crk x reader #pure vanilla cookie #pure vanilla x reader #pure vanilla cookie x reader #pure vanilla cookie run #pure vanilla cookie run kingdom #pure vanilla crk

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didi-writes · 3 months

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could do some fluffy headcanons for mammon, and beel with a chubby reader who gets insecure if they still like them?

Thank you sm 🫶🏻

꒰🎶੭・how beel and mammon reassure insecure reader hcs .

characters : 3,297

warnings: mentions of insecurities, feeling upset over your appearance and slight jealousy feelings.

notes : a little angst + fluff , gender neutral reader hi!! hopefully you like them ^^ i apologize for not really making em headcanons though, hope that's not an issue. not proofread so sorry for any possible grammar mistakes.

— Beelzebub .

As of recently you had been feeling quite down about your appearance, insecurities were still something that would torment your thoughts every now and then. And today was another one of those days.

Beel noticed how you were more kept to yourself as he gulfed down another cheeseburger. He stared at you before speaking. "Y/N??" he asks. Beel noticed your rather sad expression as you looked up at the red haired demon sitting in front of you on his bed.

"are you sad Y/N??.." Beel asked softly, focusing his attention on you. As you sighed his expression softened further. "do you still...like me? at all? i mean, i feel so unattractive sometimes Beel" you replied quietly.

Beel furrowed his brows as soon as he heard you talking negatively about yourself. "Y/N. did someone make u feel this way?" he asks, his vibe shifting from concern to serious.

"No..just myself i guess" you'd reply, staring back at the guy. His expression softens again as he pulls you into his arms up onto his lap. Beel wraps his arms around your figure, resting his chin onto your shoulder, his hold firm.

"Yes, i do still like you. you make me feel warm on the inside. You make me feel full, but in a different way than food does and when im with you i always feel better Y/N. And i think you are very attractive, you're so soft and i love holding you...i love you Y/N..a lot, please do not feel this way, i will always like you" Beel replied, his firm hands softly caressing your stomach and sides as he continued to hold you. He kissed your shoulder and smiled when he heard you let out a soft sigh, relaxing into his hug.

He would spend the rest of his day around you and making sure you know he only has eyes for you! (and food of course)

— Mammon .

Mammon and you were together in his room like usual, hanging out. He counted his money he had earned from his recent modelling gig. He got up and stretched, letting out a happy sigh. "Y/N!! Your oh-so very great and amazing boyfriend earned 7,000 Grimm! aren't ya proud of me?" He said, turning around to face you.

You looked up, lost in thought as you forced a quick smile nodding as Mammon waved the bills around. "mhmm, good job" You'd add, your tone slightly upset, which Mammon took notice of.

"What's got ya so down?.." He asked, plopping down onto the couch next to you. You sigh and shake your head, telling him it's nothing. Mammon didn't let go of it and got closer towards you, speaking in a soft manner. "cmon..what's wrong??".

"Do you still like me?? i mean..im not even remotely as good looking as the people you're constantly surrounded with" You said, staring at Mammon. He furrowed his brows, his hands moving to your face to cup your cheeks.

"How dare ya believe the great Mammon wouldn't like you Y/N. i very much like you...you're the most attractive looking person in all 3 worlds to me. I wouldn't dare think otherwise, your my human, and you always will be....i love you.." He replies, muttering the 'i love you'

Mammon pulled you closely, hugging you tightly as he softly petted your head. "I wouldn't wish to have anyone else in my arms rn...your beautiful/handsome Y/N, i mean it." He added, placing a kiss onto your head. You looked up at him, noticing his cheeks flushed red. You smiled, hugging him back as he denied his blush.

thank you sm for reading! have a great day or night ♡

#requests open #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #headcanon #x reader #obey me mammon #mammon x reader #obey me beelzebub #beelzebub x reader #obey me nb #obey me x reader #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me #om x reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #gn reader

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voltronisanobsession · 10 months

Text

Miguel codes Lyla a Friend

I had this idea since I was thinking maybe sometimes Lyla gets lonely being the only hologram in the spider society apart from Spider Byte. So I decided to do this and show what it could be like if Miguel finally coded and programmed Lyla a new friend!

This also might be the very few writings I’ll do for this fandom since I wanna focus on the ones Im active in now :D

For this to even be CONSIDERED a possibility, Lyla would have to have been annoying Miguel for awhile, complaining about how oh so lonely she’s gotten being the only hologram

“Come on.”

“There’s Spider Byte.”

“She doesn’t count, plus she’s still a spider. Come oonn.”

“Is my company not enough, Lyla?”

“Look me in the eyes and you tell me. Come ooonnnnn.”

In the end Miguel will succumb to Lyla’s persistent complains much to the her delight

I can already see her excitedly yapping away while Miguel begins programming her new ‘friend’

I totally see Miguel just copying and pasting Lyla’s original coding while making some changes like the personality and appearance just because he didn’t want to spend too much time on this

It takes a couple of runs before both he and Lyla are satisfied with the final outcome, you😍

Miguel made it so that you were the more compassionate and kind one between the two of you while Lyla is the honest and blunt one

You chose your own name, which surprised both him and Lyla since you were already adapting and growing as an intelligent form of tech

“Well then Y/N, welcome to the team.”

Cue Lyla grabbing your arm and disappearing to who knows where while Miguel sighs

Omg she would totally give you star glasses so you could match with her heart glasses!!!

You guys are rarely seen without the other ever since your arrival

Lyla would show you all the ropes to being Miguel’s assistant and would be so proud when you help file your first report on an anomaly :,)

“They grow up so quick.”

“But I can’t ‘grow up’ Lyla.”

“You’ll understand those sayings soon.”

You guys do everything together, like karaoke nights with Miguel, make friendship bracelets for each other and take silly pics with that one bunny filter Lyla’s obsessed with

It’s like you’re Thing 1 and Thing 2 according to Peter :]

Because this is technically your shot in ‘living’, you definitely look at everything with stars in your eyes

Everything is still so new to you and so exciting that you often get carried away with rambling about how fascinating life is

Which causes Miguel to raise an eyebrow at times because it’s almost like your becoming more self aware of yourself, gaining more… human emotions despite you being only a hologram

And he isn’t wrong

Once learning of Miles Morales’ story and how he’s essentially going to destroy the multiverse according to Miguel, you can’t help but feel for the boy

Your traits grow from being compassionate to feeling real emotions which confused you at first when you began feeling so different at times

(You asked Lyla about the weird feelings you’ve been getting but she only looks at you weirdly so you don’t bring it up again)

You make it a habit to mention every now and then that Miles had no control over what happened and how you feel sorry for him

How you even theorize that with him, the cycle of Spiderman could possibly be broken!

Lyla would 100 percent lecture you on how that would be terrible and all that fun sunshine stuff which you definitely don’t listen to

Hobie would be around when you’re on one of your tangents on how Miles could be the change the multiverse could benefit from, capturing his attention

“Rebellious one, aren’t you?”

“Oh Hobie hello! What do you mean by that?”

“I sure as ‘ell know bossman wouldn’t program your own ideas to go against his, now would he?”

After that small talk, your hologram self would realize ‘hey! Im thinking for myself, I have my own ideals and beliefs!’

Cue you acting out against Miguel cuz you’re in your rebellious phase

Bro would totally tell Lyla to control you

You’ve been giving him more headaches than Lyla has and that’s saying something

I think Lyla would try to tap into your programming to see if there was something wrong only to find out you put a PASSWORD on that file LMAO💀💀💀

Her reaction: 😦

Besides that concerning factor that is making itself way more known after Miles arrives, most of the spiders do enjoy your company

They love how you just float around them as you beg to hear more of their stories and fights they’ve experienced

You have an almost childish light because of how interested and amazed you are at them

You love being around Peter B. though because of Mayday

She loves just swishing her hand at your frame, giggling as you reappear in a different spot, your soft glowing light capturing her attention every time

Overall I think being Miguel’s second assistant isn’t the most terrible thing in the world

Lyla’s sarcasm has rubbed off on you so you both like to make Miguel’s job a little more difficult than it needs to be

But he definitely has a soft spot for both you, especially since you often sympathize with him whenever he watches those videos of his past life

You’re just a silly member of the society trying to learn more about life and the special moments it holds

You want to be apart of the real world instead of being confined to the digital world, which Lyla and Miguel don’t realize is a problem until you finally go against them

DUN DUN DDUUUNNNN

#spiderverse x reader #across the spiderverse x reader #into the spiderverse x reader #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #lyla x reader #atsv x reader #atsv Miguel #atsv Lyla #atsv #Spiderman atsv x reader #x reader #atsv headcanons #atsv peter b parker #miles morales

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ellieromanov · 5 months

Text

I loved you too.

Pairings: Natasha x R

Warnings: angst, breakup

Words:600

This is very different from what I normally write but it's very angsty so I thought I'd share. This is just a text conversation inspired by the "peeled orange" story on TikTok.

2020

Me:

Hi.

Natasha:

Hi.

Me:

How are you, Natasha?

Natasha:

I'm good. Surprised. I wasn't expecting to hear from you again.

Me:

Sorry.

Natasha:

Don't be.

How are you? Are you okay?

Me:

Trying to be.

Natasha:

I'm sorry.

Me:

Why?

Natasha:

You're trying to be, but you aren't. I'm sorry.

Me:

That's okay.

Natasha:

Was there a particular reason you reached out?

Me:

Yeah actually.

I just wanted to tell you that I got the job.

I'm moving to Berlin next month.

Natasha:

That's incredible Y/n! I'm proud of you

Me:

Thank you. I don't think I would have been able to do it without you.

Natasha:

I doubt that's true. You have talent.

Me:

thanks.

Natasha:

your welcome.

Me:

I still wouldn't have been able to do it without you.

Do you remember when I first got the call for the job?

Natasha:

Yeah I do. We were in the living room watching Elf.

Me:

And I nearly didn't answer the phone because I didn't recognize the number.

You were the one to tell me to answer it anyways.

Natasha:

That's true.

You cried so hard afterwards.

Me:

I did.

Natasha:

I don't think I ever ended up seeing the ending of that movie.

Me:

Sorry.

Natasha:

That's okay. I'll watch it again.

Me:

Natasha?

Natasha:

Yeah?

Me:

How's Yelena?

Natasha:

She's okay. She misses you around here.

Me:

I miss her too.

Natasha:

I think we all miss you.

Me:

Yeah.. I miss everyone too.

Natasha:

Yeah.

Me:

I miss being cared for.

Natasha:

You are cared for.

Me:

By who?

Natasha:

By your family, by the team, by friends.

Me:

But no by you.

Natasha:

That's not true.

I care for you very much. I love you Y/n, im just not in love with you anymore.

Me:

Oh..

I still care for you too.

Natasha:

I know.

Me:

Do you think I'll be loved again?

Natasha:

Of course you will be Y/n. You're young you have so much time to be loved. I promise.

Me:

When you left everything changed so much.

Natasha:

How so?

Me:

A lot happened with the family.

Inge died.

Im sorry i didn't tell you sooner.

I've been struggling with that a lot.

Natasha:

Im so sorry Y/n

Me:

Me too.

Natasha:

I wish I had been there for you. Im so sorry I wasn't.

Me:

It's okay

I've also learned that I have very little control so the things i don't have control over I can't worry about it. I can only worry about the things a do have control of.

Natasha:

That's very true

Me:

For such a long time I thought it wasn't real.

Natasha:

What wasn't real?

Me:

Us. Love. I don't know.

Natasha:

It was real Y/n. And love still is. I know because you are full of it.

I also think kindness is real because you are kind. Good people exist, and one day one of those good people will love you for all of your worth, remember that Y/n.

Me:

You're still always understanding

Natasha:

I try to be.

Me:

Thank you for responding Natasha.

Natasha:

You're welcome.

But Y/n you can't text me again. It'll only hurt.

Me:

Okay...

I love you Natasha.

Natasha:

I loved you too

———

2021

Me:

I miss you

———

2021

Me:

I saw you on the news today, you look different, good. But different.

———

2022

Me:

I know you said to stop messaging you. I’m trying.

———

2022

*missed call*

Me:

I really loved you.

I Hope you find happiness.

I know you’ll do great things.

But It’s time for me to let you go Natasha.

I can’t keep doing this to myself

I have to let you go.

———

2023

Natasha:

I miss you so much.

I wish I still had you.

I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me the most.

I love you.

I’m so sorry if you ever doubted that.

———

#natasha romanoff #natasha x y/n #angst #black widow #marvel #mcu x reader #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanov #natasha x you #fanfic #text #text convo #sad thoughts #black widow angst #scarlett ingrid johansson #scarlett johansson x reader #hurt/comfort

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sanjisboyfie · 6 months

Text

one piece smau: married to robin edition

— kinda implied that robin is some "celebrity" but i kind of just enviosioned her just being a really successful writer or smth LOL

— male reader ! ! !

liked by nico.robin, nrs.husband, and 12k others

uso_pp: bro is definitely a mama's boy

tagged: nico.robin and nrs.husband

nrs.husband: well i call her mommy in bed anyway so it checks out

-> uso_pp: DEAR GOD.

dni_nami: they're both so whipped for each other, true love is real igggg

[liked by nico.robin, nrs.husband, and 90 others]

freeluffy: is it normal to be this clingy with your girlfriend...[name]'s behavior seems concerning guys ://

-> roro.zoro: it kills me how serious u seem about this

princesanji: IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MEEEE

liked by nrs.husband, dni_nami, and 30k others

nico.robin: my husband is so thoughtful - he's never forgotten to give me floewrs whenver my older ones die <3

tagged: nrs.husband

nrs.husband: if my baby loves flowers IMMA GET HER FLOWERS

-> nico.robin: and i'll treasure them each time my love

princesanji: robin, i too, remember that you love flowers - do you love me now :3?

SUPERCOLA: i thought im the ways of being a SUPPPERRR husband well

-> nrs.husband: SUPPPPEERRRR

dni_nami: were these from your garden?

-> nico.robin: yes :) he has been tending to them ever since he planted them for me so now that they're grown, he made them into a bouqet

[liked nrs.husband, roro.zoro, and 100 others]

-> dni_nami: UGH I DONT KNOW WHY I BOTHER ASKING it's too cute i might kill MYSELF

liked by nico.robin, princesanji, and 20k others

nrs.husband: before and after the event, so proud of my beautiful girl

tagged: nico.robin

nico.robin: your support means the world to me <3 i love you so much

-> nrs.husband: if you have 1000 fans, i'm one of them. if you have 100 fans, i'm one of them. if you have 10 fans, i'm one of them. if there are no more fans of nico robin in the world, then i'm dead. i love you so sososososo much more my love

uso_pp: someone check up on sanji-

-> roro.zoro: i just heard a thump from the room over, i'm gonna assume he just fell to his knees

skullnsoul: such an elegant couple - YOUNG LOVE IS SO BEAUTIFUL

-> nrs.husband: brook you're like ten years older pls ur not an old man yet LMFAO

-> nico.robin: thank you brook :)

liked by nrs.husband, dni_nami, and 20k others

nico.robin: my favorite place in the world is his arms

tagged: nrs.husband

nrs.husband: i'll start crying right now.

nrs.husband: I DONT DESERVE YOU UGH

uso_pp: photo creds robin?? cmon now my work aint free

princesanji: what did [name] do in a past life to deserve a goddess such as yourself, robin-chan?

-> nico.robin: sanji you need to move on <3

[liked by roro.zoro, dni_nami, and 400 others]

freeluffy: mama y papa :DDDD

-> nrs.husband: LUFFY LMFAOOAA

liked by uso_pp, nrs.husband, nico.robin, and 11k others

dni_nami: the one time we get to see robin and he's hogging all her attention....wtf

tagged: nico.robin and nrs.husband

nico.robin: dw nami i reserved us a girls day at the nearby resort <3

-> dni_nami: mommy? sorry, mommy? mommy? sorry...mommy??

-> nrs.husband: hello????

uso_pp: as if he doesn't get to spend eveyr waking second with her like cmon bruh

-> nrs.husband: my BADD for loving my wife jfc i cant win w u guys

nrs.husband: omg send me this photo she looks so cute here hehehe

-> dni_nami: stfu.

nrs.husband's story:

i love lovelovelovelove my beautiful wife. everyone is just jealous she's mine <333

nico.robin replied to your story: i wondered why nami just texted me she hated you — you're very cute with this story, [name]. i love you too and am glad that i can call you mine as well <333

#≡;- ꒰ ° smau series ꒱#one piece smau #one piece modern au #one piece x male reader #nico robin x male reader #nico robin x reader #x male reader #x reader #nico robin imagines #one piece imagines #male reader imagines #one piece male reader #robin x male reader #robin x reader #one piece robin x reader #one piece robin x male reader

224 notes · View notes

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