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jo-com · 9 days

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ Mine

Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Summary: He's yours, and you're his. That's how it should be.

Tw: DARK, implied smut, obsession, manipulation, possessive behavior, branding, angst, jealous charles, some grammatical error, not proofread, google translated french cause i can't speak french and sorry if i wrote it wrong i just started writing again so idk if this is good or not.

words: 1.1k

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ───

From the start, Charles was nothing more than amazing—he would give you endless adoration and assurance, and overall was the perfect boyfriend. He would worship you like you were some kind of goddess—well, in his eyes, you were.

But Over time, his once pure love became a crazy obsession.

The need to always be by your side and not let any other guys come closer to you, talk to you, or even breathe the same air as you intoxicated his mind and clouded his judgment.

And you start to see changes that would never occur in the past—changes that weren't good. Like that time when you and Carlos were just casually talking and catching up—that sight alone was enough to make his once-puppy dog eyes become piercing ones. Burning a hole in both the backs of your heads, from across the room you could see how tensed he was, his jaws clenched and his hands gripped the seat making the texture of the seat all crinkly.

At that time you only shook it off as a "concerned gesture" and never said anything about it to him.

But then it was constantly happening; he would always get riled up whenever someone would just approach you, whether it was a girl, boy, kid, or even animals; he was getting jealous over almost everything.

You started to worry that things would get even more complicated as they continued. So you stood your ground and got up the courage to voice your concern to him.

...

"Charlie?" you said softly, entering the room, where he was reading. Your eyes scanned around the room then stopped when you spotted his figure.

There he was, sitting by the fireside with a book in his right hand and the other resting on the armrest. He looked like one of those guys that were sculptured to perfection, but you knew that, underneath that godlike demeanor was one possessive beast that was hard to tame.

Hearing your voice, Charles looked up from your direction and immediately lit up. "Oui? Mon chéri," he responded with his thick French accent.

You smiled half-heartedly and slowly walked to where he sat. From your action, he could tell that something was bothering you.

His face scrunched up with a frown as he stared intently at you as you sat down on one of the armrests.

"Is there something bothering you, Mon cœur?" he asked, lowering down the book he was reading and then slowly snaked up his free hand to rest on your waist.

You let out a deep sigh before answering, "You'll tell me when something's up right?"

He didn’t answer but just tilted his head and stared at you blankly. At that moment there were many questions running through his mind, but one particular thought stood out: Why would you ask something out of the blue when everything has been perfect? not unless someone put thoughts into that pretty little naive head of yours.

He let out a low chuckle—the grip on your waist tightened as he sucked out a breath—your eyes met his. Seeing the lack of emotion as he stared back at you, sent shivers down your spine, and what scared you even more was when he gave you a calm but menacing smile.

"What makes you think that there's a problem sweetheart?"

You bit your lower lip, holding back the urge to just blurt out your thoughts.

That small gesture was not left unnoticed by Charles. He raised his other hand and touched your lower lip, softly grazing his thumb to where you sunk your teeth. "You know you can tell me anything, right? Mon cœur? he assured.

His expression didn't change; the loving eyes that you once knew were now an emotionless void. With that look, you knew he was getting impatient the longer you stayed silent.

Breaking the silence, you slowly nodded your head and smiled lightly. "Yeah, I know baby, it’s just that you’ve been off lately and you get so riled up easily, mon amour—I know that you mean no harm, but it’s just too much and i-"

“Do you think I like being that way? ”Charles cuts you off.

He gazed at you—eyes filled with rage from what you just said. You squeaked at his burning glare and were quick to look away. The hand that used to rest in your waist was now at the bridge of his nose, pinching it with frustration.

"You know i wouldn't be that way if not for you, y/n. I am just keeping you safe from all those disgusting men at the paddock, tu ne sais pas de quoi ils sont capables y/n (you don't know what they are capable of)."

You kept your head down and stayed quiet, not wanting to say anything further that might ignite more of his anger.

Charles stared at your weak state and sighed heavily.

He stood up, standing in front of you. His hands are cupping both your cheeks, forcing you to stare at him. Charles rubbed your rosy cheeks soothingly, making you lean in on his touch.

"Everything I do is for you, mon chéri, okay?"

You looked at him through your eyelashes and smiled. Charles just wants you to be safe and there's nothing wrong with it, maybe your just overthinking it?.

Charles smiled and kissed your temple; hugging you close to him as if you'd leave once he let's go.

Only a fool would believe that Charles's "just wants you to be safe".

Y/n was a fool

...

Your body jolted at the sensation, your hand moving to your mouth as you bit down the urge to moan out loud.

The two of you were inside a closet room in the pit. Charles decided to pull this stunt the moment he laid eyes on you and Max talking. Like usual, he got riled up and dragged you somewhere secluded to "teach you a lesson".

Tears swell up your eyes, making your vision go blurry. Your other hand was pushing his head away and attempting to stop him from diving into your cunt and eating it like there was no tomorrow.

"Stop," Charles hissed, grabbing both your wrist and pinning it above your head—restricting your movements.

"What did i tell you about talking to others?"

You gulped down the lump in your throat and shook your head. "I am sorry, mon amour" your eyes pleading for him to stop.

Charles scoffed, gripping your jaw tightly. "espèce de salope (you slut), you just want everyone's attention, don't you?"

"Charlie, no, it's not like that," you begged, your voice shaking as his grip on your jaw tightened.

"Oh, I'll give you attention alright, Chienne (bitch)," he cussed, his accent making his aura more frightening.

...

You lay emotionless on the table, tears falling down your face—your clothes on the ground, your hair a mess, and your body filled with his markings.

In the corner of the room, Charles was fixing his clothes. Acting as if nothing had happened.

He then went over to you and pulled your body towards him, crassing your hair and kissing your temple. "Je t'aime tellement mon amour."

...

Should i make a part 2?? Btw hope you like this idk if i did it okay i just wanted to write again and like always my request are open!!

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muchosbesitos · 6 months

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crazy scientist!miguel smut and you’re his experiment 👀

(i mixed the request with ‘stressed out miguel accidentally overdosed himself with the spider injection thing and calls for spider readers help.’ so i hope you both don’t mind :p)

greatest accomplishment

pairing: miguel o’hara x spider!fem reader

contents: substance abuse (?), smut, oral (f and m receiving), face fucking, unprotected p in v, ice play, mirror sex, spanking, biting, web bondage, male masturbation, fingering (sorry if i missed anything 🫣)

author’s note: thank you for being so patient, i hope you enjoy <33

word count: 3.9K+

You were what Miguel considered his greatest achievement and his greatest failure. during his time at Alchemax, he'd worked on several human trials with few of them showing any signs of success. At most, he managed to regenerate lost limbs but the achievement still felt little to what he believed he could do. that was, until you showed up at Alchemax with glossy eyes and anticipation.

You had been used as a weapon in private government affairs until eventually the operation shut down. While everybody involved had some kind of direction in their life, you didn't know that anything existed beyond fighting or living to serve the purpose of someone else. You'd signed up for the human trials that Alchemax was offering, being aware of all the stakes at hand, in hopes of being able to lead a normal life.

"So, you basically have spider-like abilities that are in the control of someone else and you want me to change your DNA?" Miguel asked, pushing his glasses back up as he looked up at you from the clipboard. "Well, I know that ai can't really get rid of the powers, but I was hoping that maybe you could help make them my own. because even as we're sitting here, I still feel that urge to need to protect," you responded, hoping that he'd be a little sympathetic towards your situation.

While Miguel didn't feel anything towards your situation, he did feel a thrill of doing something more than regenerating lost limbs. He didn't feel the slightest bit of guilt towards using you to fulfill his personal desires. "Alright, well I can't really promise that the operation's going to be successful. Are you okay with those odds?" He inquired before the two of you got started, calling in a nurse to take your vitals and do your blood work. "Sounds good."

The operation had gone successfully, much to Miguel’s disbelief and he felt that thrill rushing towards him again. The excitement of being a geneticist once more. You enveloped your arms around him, your superhuman strength threatening to pop his eyes out of the sockets.

"Thank you," you whispered, though you felt the words couldn't convey how grateful you were at the opportunity Miguel had given you. He tapped on your arm, forcing you to let him go before he fixed up his jacket. "Thank you," he muttered after you left, completely fascinated as he looked through your file.

A couple of years had passed when you got a phone call from a strange number, excitement coursing through your veins as you answered. Though you'd had the desire to live out a civilian life, a part of you would always long for being able to use your abilities. "Hello?" You asked, hearing someone's breath on the other side. "It's Miguel, I'm not too sure if you remember me. Can you meet me at my place? I'll send you the details," he spoke quickly before he hung up, leaving you confused as you looked down at your phone.

You opened the door to miguel's penthouse, noticing that the curtains were all pulled to darken up the room. You sat down on the couch, deciding to wait for him to come out to talk. "Would you like a glass of water?" A yellow hued hologram woman appeared in front of you, pushing her heart shaped glasses up her nose. "No, but thank you," you responded, watching her as she faded away. You looked up when Miguel came into view, sweatpants hanging low on his waist.

"Sorry, I know you wanted to escape fighting when you came to see me last time but I'm starting up this society for spider people," he spoke up, sitting on the couch next to you. "Spider people? Does that include you?" You inquired, looking over at him as you noticed how much he changed throughout the years. He'd bulked up immensely, his biceps almost the size of your head and his eyes almost had a red hue to it. "It does, but that's not the point here. I'm asking if you want to help me," he responded, keeping eye contact with you.

You'd felt immensely grateful towards Miguel for allowing you to take control of your life once more so you'd agreed on joining him. Despite the fact that Miguel seemed to easily irritated, he helped you out in using your abilities for good this time around. While you were skilled at harnessing your abilities, you'd only used them to inflict pain on others. He helped you establish a good workout routine without pushing you too hard past your limitations.

The days had started to blend together for Miguel, losing all concept of time. Anomaly reports hadn't stopped coming in and spiders were currently working on overtime to be able to control the damage. His eyes were bloodshot as he looked at the monitors, dark circles under his eyes with only coffee to fuel his body. He grabbed his mug from the table, filling it up with some coffee he'd made three days ago? Maybe four. The cold coffee provided no taste as he sipped it, but it did provide him with the caffeine rush he needed.

His eyes drifted over to the collection of empty vials he had on the corner of his desk, having used most of the drug he'd created throughout this week. He deactivated the shoulder part of his suit, the green liquid providing him with the strength that he needed to continue staying up. His eyes strained as he returned his attention back to the monitor, the brightness hurting his dry eyes.

As the anomaly reports started to die down, he overheard through some of the speakers at the society about what the spiders were planning to do after work. He turned on the cameras, instantly spotting you talking to one of the spider-women and decided to listen in on the conversation. He felt his right eye start to twitch and his fist clench up as he heard you mention going out on a date tonight, immediately turning off the camera.

He grabbed the monitor like he wanted to crucify it for your actions, tossing it on the ground as he stomped on it. "You know, half our budget goes to replacing shit you break. Soon enough, we'll just be working with broken computers," LYLA spoke up, appearing in front of him as she folded her arms. "Like we'll ever go bankrupt," he mumbled, picking up the scraps of the monitor. "What's got you all pissed off now?"

Miguel ignored LYLA, eyeing the last bit of the serum that he had left. He was starting to feel his body want to submit to humanly desires such as sleeping and eating, but he genuinely believed that he didn't have any time to spare towards those things. He grabbed the last vial and headed toward the chemical lab at HQ, looking over what he could mix it with. He wanted to make the mixture more potent, something that would keep him up and keep him strong for a long time.

He mixed a couple of chemicals that looked like they would work, the mixture turning a bright purple. Normally, he would've been more cautious about mixing things he wasn't sure of but he felt like a junkie desperate to have his next fix. He deactivated the shoulder part of his suit once more, injecting himself with the strange liquid. He was expecting to feel that instant bit of relief like he did with the original serum, but he didn't feel like it did anything. Miguel let out a loud scream, pissed off at himself for messing up the mixture so much that it didn't have any effect.

A couple minutes later passed by when he felt sweat dribbling on his forehead though the temperature in the room had seemed to drop a couple degrees. He gripped the corner of the table as he coughed, his body rejecting the modified version of the serum. His head began pounding and suddenly, everything was too bright and everything was too loud. He hastily opened up a portal to his house, unwilling to stay at HQ where anybody would just come in and find him in that state.

He laid down on the ground as he stepped out of the portal, bile building up in the back of his throat. He brought his hand closer to his face, the limb feeling like deadweight as he scrolled through his watch. He texted you to meet him at his house urgently, his text morphing into one word. He knew that you were out on your date even in his drug-infused state, but he wanted you to pick him instead of your stupid date. He told himself that allowing you to work on the antidote would provide you with experience your college wouldn't give you, but he just wanted your company.

Miguel’s lids were starting to shut when you arrived at his house and you shook him awake, helping him up to his feet. "Stay awake for me, please," you spoke softly, seeing the pained expression on his face as you helped him to the couch. He pointed to a couple empty flasks with labels on them and you rushed to get them so you'd have an idea of what you needed for the antidote. "I'll lead you the lab," his speech slurred as he talked and you had to offer him some kind of support as you walked with him.

"What are you doing here, anyways? Thought you had a date," he mumbled, his brows furrowed as he unlocked the door. "He didn't show up," you simply said, walking with him inside as you looked over at the multiple shelves filled with chemicals. Truth was, you'd cancelled on the date because you didn't think it would make you happy. You weren't sure when, but in the midst of all the gratitude you felt towards Miguel, you'd started to catch some feelings for him. He was easy to like despite his attitude, he was protective of those he cared about and would do anything for them.

"You could've called one of the more experienced spiders for this, so why'd you call me?" You inquired as you read over the labels on the flasks. "I wanted you to be here. Plus, i figured you'd get some hands on experience," he responded, his speech still coming up garbled. You mixed up a concoction of chemicals, whispering a silent prayer that it would work as the colors began to blend together.

You injected the drug into miguel's shoulder, still exposed from the last batch he'd taken as you watched intently for any more adverse reactions. You watched as his body slumped with relief, the color returning back to his face as his eyes opened. "Thank you," he muttered, standing up from his chair. You nodded, picking up your jacket as you got ready to leave. "Don't go yet, I still have some ways to express my gratitude towards you."

You were unsure of what he meant by that but when you turned around, his lips were already on yours. "Tell me you don't want this and I'll drop it. We can go back to just being coworkers," he mumbled, pulling back slightly to give you enough space to leave if you wanted to. You stayed in your place, wrapping your arms around his neck as you returned the hasty kisses he was giving you. His lips enveloped yours in a thirsty way, almost like he needed this to live. It morphed into a clash of teeth and tongue as he explored every inch of your mouth, letting out a soft moan at the taste.

He picked you up, placing you on one the lab tables before restricting all movement with his webs. Though he knew that you could easily break through them, he found himself needing to be in control of the situation. He glanced over at the mini-fridge in the corner of the room, getting a bucket of ice before placing it to the side. His talons unsheathed and in one swift motion, he'd ripped the dress you were wearing in half. The tattered pieces scattered to the ground, leaving you in just your lingerie at his mercy.

He held one of the ice cubes between his front teeth, dragging it across your skin as he made his way down from your neck. He loved seeing the way your body fidgeted under the cold substance, his tongue lapping up the small water droplets. Your nipples hardened as he rubbed the ice cube on them, his tongue swirling against your areola. You whined at him to keep going but he pulled back, stopping his movements. You were nervous that you'd scared him off but he tore your panties off, shoving them in your mouth.

"Don't think for a second that this is for you. It's all for me, understood?" He told you, his hand resting on your thigh as he spoke. You nodded rapidly, arousal leaking to the lab table as you waited for his next movements. He brought the ice cube back to your breasts, the difference in temperature between his tongue and ice cube having you shiver. When the cube melted, he picked up another one and dragged it across to your pussy, swirling the cube on your clit. Your hips bucked up to get more of the sensation but your body couldn't help but want to squirm away at how good it felt.

The ice cube melted, the water droplets combining with your slick as it made a mess on the table. His tongue began to collect the slick on your folds, his eyes intently on yours. The small muffled whimpers that you were letting out spurred him to keep going, his tongue thrusting inside your pussy while your walls clenched around it. He let out a small moan as you released more slick, the taste of you threatening to take him over the edge. His fingers took place instead of his mouth as he kissed on your thigh, sucking on the skin to leave his mark behind.

You let out a muffled yelp as he bit down, the sting from his fangs overwhelming your senses. You couldn't help the arousal that leaked out of you at the sensation, the pain mixing in with the pleasure of having his fingers stretching you out. He moved his fingers in a scissoring action to stretch out your walls, his mouth still kissing your thigh. You heard some moaning coming from Miguel, looking down to see that his hand was tightly wrapped around his cock while precum leaked onto his palm.

Just the fact that he found getting you off as a turn on made your mind grow hazy, your toes curling as his mouth circled over your clit. His tongue swirled against it, his fingers curled up to hit your g-spot. He let out another moan, the vibration hitting your clit directly and you couldn't help but clench around him even more. His fingers were hardly moving with how hard you were gripping them, arousal coating them knuckle deep as his teeth gently pulled on your clit.

He looked up at you, desperation evident in his eyes despite the dominant presence he was putting on and your orgasm approached you quickly. You moaned into the cloth, the sound coming out muffled as your release coated his fingers completely. He took them out, his mouth closing around his fingers while he sucked them off. You looked down at his cock, the tip angry red as it dripped precum onto the glass floor of the lab.

Your head was tilted to the side, immediately at eye level with his cock while he reached down to take out the makeshift gag. You opened up your mouth, the tip of his cock inside of your mouth as you swirled your tongue around it. You collected the precum leaking out as he began to thrust his hips, using your mouth at his disposal. "Who would've known you liked to be treated like such a slut? Pinche puta," he spoke, his voice coming out with a small groan as your eyes watered when he pushed further inside of you.

Your cheeks hollowed as you tried to take the length and girth of his cock but you felt tears forming at your waterline from the intrusion. His hips snapped forward, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat and you couldn't help but gag as your nose hit his pubic bone. "You're all good, don't worry. You're taking it so well. Esa boquita esta haciendo tan buen trabajo," he mumbled, feeling your tongue running down the sides of his cock. (that mouth is doing such a good job)

Your tongue traced the two veins running down the side of his cock, a small shiver running through Miguel’s body as he felt the sensations hitting him all at once. He grabbed the back of your head, thrusting into your mouth repeatedly as he took out the amounts of stress that had piling up out. The tip of his cock kept hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, your tongue brushing up against it with every thrust. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, a clear sign that his orgasm was approaching him rather quickly. The salty substance went down your throat in his final thrust, his eyes locked directly on yours as his chest heaved.

His talons worked on releasing you from the webs but before you had the chance to move, he picked you up and led you to the bathroom. You were bent over the counter, his cock slightly pressing up against your folds before he pushed it in one swift thrust. Your walls clenched up against his cock instinctively and he took a couple seconds to let himself bask in the feeling of you before he started moving.

He pressed your face against the mirror as he forced you to look at yourself while his cock stretched out your cunt, your knuckles turning ghost white from how hard you were gripping the counter. Your breath fogged up the mirror as he kept pushing inside of you, his cock reaching places that no one had ever had. His hands came to rest on your hips as he eased you in and out before one of them squeezed your ass. You yelped as you felt his hand strike your ass, the pain morphing into pleasure as he rubbed at the reddening skin.

You stood on your tippy toes as you tried to remain upright, your hands coming to grip his arms. "Look at what he's missing out on, then again, I don't think he could please you the same way I do," he murmured against your skin, bringing you up right as his mouth closed around the sensitive skin on your neck. He bit down, not hard enough for his fangs to release any of the venom but just hard enough to protrude your skin a bit. Your nails started digging into his skin as you felt him shift the angle a bit, his cock hitting you in all the right places.

One of his hands was on your breasts, tugging at the nipple as the other one played with your clit. He kept his gaze with you on the mirror, enjoying the way you squirmed underneath him and the way you couldn't keep eye contact for too long. Your pussy was gushing around his cock, allowing him to focus on giving you an angle that would provide pleasure, that would make you cum all over him. His fingers on your clit and as his mouth bit down on your shoulder, and you couldn't help the orgasm that washed out of you.

Your release formed a creamy ring at the base of his cock as he pushed deep into you, his thrusts becoming more sporadic and his moans becoming incoherent babbles. "Taking me so good, mami," he murmured, whispering other sweet nothings about how good your cunt was to him. He pulled out of you just in time, his cum dropping on the globes of your ass. He reached over, grabbing a piece of toilet paper to clean you off.

As he pulled his cock out of you, he couldn't help but look at you with a concerned expression. "I didn't hurt you too bad, did I?" He asked, taking note of your tear-stained cheeks and the bite marks all over you. "No, no. Don't worry about it," you responded, shooing him away so you could do your business. Truth be told, you'd never experimented having rough sex before but the idea of someone having an animalistic-like need towards you always enticed you.

You finished up in the bathroom, expecting to find Miguel ready for round two but he'd left the lab. You cleaned your slick off the table with a piece of toilet paper before heading up to the bedroom to check up on him. You opened the door, hearing his snores pouring over from the bed. His exhaustion had finally caught up to him and he had relaxed enough that sleep came easy to him. You left his house after getting dressed, not thinking too much about the encounter with him.

The day that you showed up at the office, you heard rumors circulating around that Miguel was more approachable to others. Though the marks he'd left on your skin had faded away due to your healing powers, the mark he left on you still lingered. You figured that he'd just used you for some stress relief so you didn't pursue anything with him. You walked to your desk, finding a cup of coffee with a note from Miguel sitting there but you refused to let yourself think about it too much.

A couple of days passed by and miguel continued to leave coffee cups before you showed up at work, leaving them with small notes. You figured he was thankful for the antidote so you pushed away the thoughts that made you a bit delusional, focusing on your work. You couldn't help but notice that even though he'd been more gentle with you, he'd gone back to his stoic personality with everyone else.

"If you didn't have any feelings for me, you could've just said so instead of ghosting me," he finally approached you one day, staring down at you coldly. "Excuse me?" You inquired, your brows contorted into an expression of confusion. "I thought that it was obvious that I liked you," he muttered and your eyes widened a bit. "No, I thought you were just thankful," you muttered, watching as he walked closer to you.

"I should've been more obvious given how clueless you are, but I'm telling you straight up that I like you," he spoke up, holding your hands in his. “Sorry I didn't take the hints you gave me," you responded, tilting your head to give him a small kiss on the lips. The kiss was nothing like last time, taking the time to enjoy each others presence rather than having the clash of tongues element to it. He walked with you to his office and just having you around as he looked at the monitors kept him from getting too stressed.

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starriluvs · 1 year

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Jealous

———————————— Shidou Ryusei x Reader

Prompt: Clingy and slightly jealous Shidou, need i say more.

————————————

Shidou Ryusei.

You could conjure up a thousand nicknames just at the sound of his name.

Demon. Crazy. Possibly dropped as a baby, and many more that would (should) have sent someone like him recoiling in annoyance.

You’d met his kind countless times before- especially back during middle school, when the influx of wannabe gangster assholes came rolling in.

Brash, loud, brazen-tongued. All cut from the same cloth.

Though they acted tough, posing as if posessing demi-god like strength and pride, you’d easily learned how to deal with them over time.

Usually, the creative titles you’d given them had been more than enough to bruise their egos.

So, why was Shidou different?

At first glance, he’d seemed just like what you had expected. You had already been mentally preparing yourself-just from the devilish grin he constantly possessed on his face.

Though, if it did count for anything, you didn’t find yourself hating his creative choices.

Be it the hot pink fade in his hair, or the seemingly permanent eyeliner he wore. A tattoo, you assumed.

You were surprised when you caught yourself sparing glances his way.

You shrugged it off, classifying it as simple ‘observation’ of what his character would be like. Even if it was out of behaviour for you.

Once, Shidou had caught you staring. He’d responded with an animated tilt of his head, that same smile on his face. Only now, it was sent your way.

You wanted to punch yourself for getting embarrassed then, a weird feeling in your chest having blossomed when he’d grinned.

But, you couldnt say you were surprised when you witnessed the boy attempt to send Igaguri to heaven (perhaps hell) with an axe kick.

You’d facepalmed then, resisting the urge to find amusement in the scene.

And somehow, for whatever reason, you found yourself wanting to know more.

—————————-

You took your unspoken words back as soon as you saw the troublemaker approach.

You gulped, hoping to act as nonchalant as possible as you fiddled around with the ball.

‘Just avoid eye contact. Maybe he’s not even here for you.’ Were the words repeating over and over as you played around with the ball.

You hoped your words were true. Maybe Shidou was just focused on someone behind you-

You turned your head around, face dropping when you remembered you were at the end of the field.

You looked around, positively frowning when you noticed no one else in the vicinity besides you, and the eager looking boy coming over.

Wait. You looked around frantically. Where did he go-

‘Hey. What’s your deal?’

You nearly jumped hearing the low, teasing voice coming close from your right. Your heartbeat quickened- from being caught off guard. Not from anything else, surely.

You looked at the faux demon in clear confusion, head tilted the slightest bit. A nonchalant expression on your face.

‘What?’ You said simply.

At your one-worded response, you saw the boy’s sharp features change to a pointed look. One eyebrow raised, looking down at you as if to say ‘dont give me bullshit.’

‘What do you mean, what?’ He retorted. ‘All those looks you’ve been giving me. What, got a problem?’ The boy nearly sneered, showing sharp canines.

Oh. So that was what this was about.

Well, you couldnt exactly tell him the reason for your constant glances was due to ‘curiosity’. That would have been embarassing.

And so, you simply shrugged. ‘Meh.’ You muttered disinterestedly.

At this, he surprisingly slouched the slightest bit, face morphing into a childish frown. ‘Meh?’ He exaggerated, leaning closer.

‘Come on.’ Shidou urged impatiently, frowning as you looked away in ignorance.

He was met with silence.

Shidou crossed his arms at that, huffing. ‘Hey. Stop ignoring me, you little fox.’ He snarked. Though, if he was trying to sound intimidating, he’d failed miserably. You heard the pout in his voice.

At the nickname, you felt a rise of amusement at how random it was. You nearly laughed, turning to him.

‘Little fox?’ You inquired curiously.

The boy shrugged. ‘What? Youre shorter than me-‘

‘Barely.’ You quickly retorted.

‘Barely still counts.’ Shidou corrected, pink eyes narrowed in amusement. ‘And i dont exactly know your name.’

You deadpanned at him after that, a bored expression on your face. ‘We’re literally in the same team. How do you not know my name-‘

Your voice was cut off by the rough callous of a hand slapping your shoulder, as if in friendly greeting. Shidou sighed deeply- probably for dramatic effect, as he laughed.

‘Always so serious, aren’t ya, y/n?’ He smirked. ‘Just wanted to humor you a little.’

Ah. You truly couldnt help the small laugh that left your lips.

‘Yeah. Whatever you say.’ You’d sighed.

Then, was the start of a new friendship. A truly chaotic one at that.

————————————-

Over time, you’d come to learn what kind of person Shidou was.

Touchy.

Whenever you two were together- which was always; considering how often the boy trailed after you, he’d always have his hands on you in some way.

Mostly on your shoulders.

After each game, you’d learned to steady yourself for the heavy, sudden weight of Shidou jumping on you.

You’d fallen the first time, completely unprepared as you’d lain in a dizzy trance.

He’d laughed in response. Unpredictable as always, his hands had met your torso as he’d picked you up- albeit not in the most gentle of ways.

Shidou had chaotically seated you atop his shoulders, gaining a confused sound out of you as youd looked down at him.

You wouldve been lying if you said you werent the tiniest bit flustered.

‘If you cant handle my weight,’ He’d started off.

Moving his head upwards to look at you, he’d said. ‘Then i guess we’ll just have to reverse the roles for now, huh?’

You shook the memory away as you brought yourself back to present time. You sighed, recognising the familiar feel of Shidou’s arm around your shoulders.

‘You’re pretty clingy, yknow that?’ You said on impulse.

At that, the arm around you only moved closer. ‘Running your mouth as per-fucking-usual.’ Shidou laughed.

His face now close to yours, he asked. ‘Besides, how am i clingy?’

You deadpanned at him after that.

As if oblivious, Shidou continued following you around after that. To the field, dining hall, the dorms, etc. You didnt mind all too much-surprisingly.

Perhaps you could even say you liked it.

You shook your head at the thought, prompting a slightly confused out of Reo.

The two of you were sitting in the monitoring room, rewatching some of the previous matches (and totally not gossipping).

The atmosphere was comfortable, but- you couldnt help but feel as though something was missing.

You pondered, not being able to put a finger on just what it was.

‘What’s up?’ Reo asked curiously, shifting his weight to his propped up arm.

‘I dont know. It feels like somethings.. off.’ You said with uncertainty.

Reo tilted his head at that, squinting. ‘Off? In what way?’

You shrugged. ‘Not in a bad way. Just, feels like somethings missing?-‘

You were abruptly cut off by the sound of the door opening. Both you and Reo turned your heads curiously. Seeing the tall silhouette immediately reminded you of who it was.

Shidou.

At the sight of you, he grinned and immediately ran over. The blonde sat next to you, already putting an arm around your shoulders.

He smiled contently in a cat-like manner. ‘Hey, y/n.’ Shidou grinned, showing his sharp canines. You’d always thought they looked cool (especially so on him).

You couldnt help but sigh in response, a small smile appearing. ‘Hey, Shidou.’

At the mention of his last name, he frowned. ‘Come on, i think we’re way past last name basis!’ You heard the pout in his voice.

You sighed dramatically. ‘Fine, Ryusei.’ You took note of the way Shidou’s face immediately lit up. Like how a kid’s would when receiving a present on Chiristmas.

Except, you remembered how greatly Shidou loathed Santa.

Reo was simply watching the scene. Seeing the interest in his violet eyes, you suppressed the urge to raise a brow at him.

Shidou leaned his head close to your shoulder, seemingly ignoring the other’s presence. ‘So, what were you doing here anyway?’

The heir on your other side answered before you could open your mouth. ‘We were just watching some of the matches together.’ Reo shrugged.

Hearing this, the blonde pulled you closer, seeming to glare at your lilac-headed friend.

‘I wasn’t asking you.’ He snarked, pink eyes narrowed as they bore into Reo.

The Mikage, who had noticed Shidou’s somewhat protective nature towards you, was suddenly met with an idea.

He smirked, tilting his head. ‘Oh, but we’re in the same room, are we not? Besides, i was sure you would’ve loved to hear more about me and y/n’s day.’

You wondered just where the hell he was going with this, an eyebrow quirking in piqued interest- and confusion.

‘You know,’ He continued. ‘Two friends, hanging out for a long time, in a room together. Alone.’ Reo lulled.

Shidou seemed to stiffen beside you. Turning your head, you saw what may have possibly been the nastiest glare you’d ever seen out of him.

He made a ‘tch’ sound, sharp eyes once again narrowed in what appeared to be jealousy- and definite annoyance.

All directed towards Reo.

You gave him a side glance, warning him to run while he could.

And then, Shidou smirked. The smile not quite reaching his eyes.

Oh.

Reo was definitely in for it now.

—————————————

You’d managed to prevent a death today. What a good samaritan, am i right?

You’d somehow managed to convince your best friend that whatever Reo had implied was not true. The two of you had been gossiping all day long!

Whatever ‘plan’ the Mikage had conjured up had been as shitty as Alexis Ness’ meat-riding. Or maybe worse.

Walking back now, you sighed.

‘I’m assuming you were planning to murder Reo before i stepped in?’ You quirked, turning to Shidou with a raised brow.

He grinned in response. ‘Not planning. I was about to.’ The blonde stated proudly.

You sighed exasperatedly. ‘Like that’s any better.’ You ran a hand over your face.

‘Why were you so mad anyway?’

The boy scowled, putting his hands in his pockets.

‘I didnt like whatever he was talking about.’ He scoffed. ‘I shouldve beat his ass once he started implying a romantic pre-tense between the two of you.’ Shidou pretended to gag, clearly annoyed.

Oh.

So that was what this was about.

You wondered why you’d seen jealousy in his eyes, and now you definitely knew why.

You contained your laughter, turning to face Shidou in amusement. ‘Oh, so you were jealous?’ You teased lightly.

The blonde froze the slightest bit, before laughing. A little too hard. ‘No way!’ He scoffed, turning his face away.

That didnt stop you from noticing the slight tinge on his face.

Ex-fucking-sposed.

You inched closer, full on grinning now. ‘You definitely were, Ryusei. And frankly, i think its pretty cute.’

You didnt know where your new-found boldness came from, but you sure as hell werent complaining when you saw the tips of Shidou’s ears turn a shade darker.

————————————

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #bllk scenario #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #blue lock scenario #blue lock imagines #blue lock fic #Bllk fic #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou x reader #shidou bllk x reader #shidou ryusei fluff #shidou x you #shidou x y/n

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fungalittleweirdo · 4 months

Note

Maybe one one of the brothers(rise) with a crush on reader but hears from Casey that resder marries/falls in love with someone else/doesn't make it.Whatever you feel like.ALSO LETS GO NEW WRITING BLOCK‼️‼️‼️

cyrill my friend i am going to feed you so well here

hmmmm

donatello x male reader, set a couple years after kraang-- the good timeline

i asked my friends to pick a turtle and a gender so i got that lol

i'll get more organised as i write more on this blog trust meee </3

enjoy!

Communicate With Your Lab Partner, Donatello!

"I see the way you look at him, Donnie."

He blinks, takes a deep breath, and shakes his head with an awkward laugh. "I don't know what you're talking about Casey, it's nothing. I've just been thinking a lot about him lately. I hope he and his eventual partner are happy together, that's all. I want my lab partner to be happy." Donatello's face contorts for a moment before it finally lands on an off-putting smile, "Anything but could affect the efficiency of which our labs are conducted."

Casey shakes his head and looks away, "Now I regret telling you about them." The time traveller sighs, standing up to frown at the softshell mutant. Donatello waves him off and urges him out of his lab, muttering about how Casey has nothing to worry about and that he would carry on like normal. But that very night he finds himself staring at the ceiling of his lab, blinking away the blurring of his vision. Donnie reaches for his phone without adjusting his posture, holding it above his face to check the time.

2:42 am.

He yawns, scrolling up to find his lab partner had texted him a funny picture of some cat meme. Donnie's lips curl up and his chest blooms with warmth as he reacts to the photo with a laughing face emoji, then responds with a meme of his own. His friend reacts with a straight faced emoji, responding with you're not funny, stop pretending you are. Donatello rolls his eyes, continuing to talk to him as the hours pass by, and when he checks the time again it is seven in the morning. It's time for the spiny softshell to head to bed even though he was meant to stay up all night regardless.

Lab Partner (7:02 AM): I know you should be heading to sleep now, but before you go, what's the weather going to be like Friday night?

Donatello sits up straight and winces as his neck's pain receptors send massive signals to his tired turtle brain, screaming at him to go to bed. He opts to shrimp over his keyboard as he checks his weather prediction algorithm, finding that there would be a seventy percent chance of rain over the tri-state area. He texts the extensive information to his lab partner, then asks him why he needs to know.

Lab Partner (7:11 AM): I asked this person out to go to Central Park expecting it to be sunny because of this week's forecast

Lab Partner (7:11 AM): But I trust your weather algorithm a lot more

Lab Partner (7:12 AM): Especially since they let Warren Stone back on the air

Delivered (7:12 AM): Scoff, any weatherman who associates themselves with that literal worm cannot be trusted for the weather. You came to the right turtle.

Lab Partner (7:13 AM): Yeah, I know I did

Lab Partner (7:13 AM): Get some rest, okay Don? I love you <3

Donatello's heart skips a beat and he stares at the screen for a moment, blinking at the three silly little words he somehow feels like he stole. Just for a moment, I could pretend... he thinks, pursing his lips as he responds in kind, then gets up from his chair to turn everything off in his lab, save for the emergency low lights. He begins heading toward his bedroom with his phone off in his hand.

The softshell is now lying awake, staring at his ceiling as he lay in bed fantasising of silly things he thought could never happen. It's bothering him, he knows it, but he doesn't feel like paying a visit to Dr. Feelings. His hand's gentle caresses on his plastron remind him of how his lab partner would hug him from behind and sway with him as he works, even though it always distracts him for a moment. The stim always brings him down to earth when he is in too deep in his work. Donatello misses the way he nuzzles into him when he's sleepy, spending days working on something together and letting him sleep on the air mattress he has set up in the corner. He misses the opportunities in which his lab partner would ask for him to sleep beside him, curling up in each other's arms.

Now that he thinks about it, Donatello and his lab partner are not strictly platonic, the way they interact with each other is quite intimate. The turtle blushes at the memory of his lips carefully planting kisses on his lab partner's head, and him doing the same. It was kismet, the way they met, since Donnie's lab partner was a former member of the Purple Dragons. Kendra let him go after he started spending too much time with the softshell rather than just spying on him. He risked so much for me, Donatello thinks, wringing his hands as he blinks away his exhaustion. He decides to take matters into his own hands, falling asleep with an uneasy feeling in his gut.

Donnie's lab partner wakes up with a start after a four hour sleep, promising Leo he would sleep more, then berating him for staying up late too. He makes himself a small breakfast and goes through his phone, then gets ready for his free day. Donnie calls him and he answers with a dramatic groan of annoyance. "Don, I swear, go back to sleep," he starts packing a bag to go out while listening to Donnie whine over the phone.

"I know! I know! You told me to rest and I already did. But you didn't sleep enough either so you're a hypocrite. I... wanted to talk to you about something."

"Can it wait? You need to sleep, dude."

"No, it can't."

Donnie seems to take a shaky breath, then speaks again.

"I need to tell you something important and I can't wait another day to tell you."

The mutant's lab partner sighs, then nods, even if 'Tello couldn't see him make the gesture.

"Yeah, I'll be over tonight. As long as you rest."

"I promise... I love you."

He pauses, the words ringing in his ears, bouncing around in his head like a screensaver avoiding the corners of its device. He's never heard Donnie say those words out loud before. He's never said them to him either, so the initiative shocks him into silence. Before the boy could respond, Donnie hung up the call and he stands in the kitchen with toast crumbs in his palm and marmalade on his fingers.

The difference between saying it out loud and sending it over text is made apparent in the boy's head, a realisation taking over as his heart beat faster in his rib cage. Oh... no... Being Donnie's lab partner has been fun these past few years, especially developing a close friendship like the one they have, but he finally realises how he must have come across. I should get my errands done quick to be at the lair in a timely manner, he thinks, washing his hands and grabbing his things to step out of his apartment, locking the door and starting his day.

Donatello is bleary-eyed and yawning to the point where his throat is dry. He stumbles into the kitchen to look for a glass of water, asking S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. to serve him some hydration. He gulps it down instantly and slams the glass down on the counter, then jumps at the voice in the corner of the kitchen.

"Happy to see you're drinking water, 'Tello."

An awkward smile plasters itself upon his face as he turns toward his lab partner, looking him up and down. He is wearing comfortable clothes as if he plans to stay a while. His tail twitches before he stops it from wagging in excitement.

"Ah, my favourite friend! I... I expected you to come to the lair much later."

"I can see that," He raises an eyebrow as he gives Donatello a once over, noting the black sweatpants he donned. "Cold?" The boy's arms snake their way around Donatello's waist and he jumps at the contact, nudging him away with a robotic laugh.

"Cold? Scoff! Who said I was cold?" Donatello now feels awake enough to serve himself his own water, watching it fill his glass as his friend stood beside him curiously. Then he gulps the entire glass down again.

"You usually wear clothes down here when you're cold. You don't opt for pyjamas like your brothers either, so you must be cold."

"Oh dear lab partner, how dare you use your observational skills on me."

Said lab partner chuckles and leans against the fridge. "You also don't reject my physical advances toward you... Is today a bad tactile sensory day?" He taps in a pattern against the countertop, signalling to Donatello that he is mildly worried. The softshell sighs and puts the glass down in the sink, stretching and cracking his limbs. He inhales through his nose, then exhales cool air that gradually calms him down.

"I am afraid of what I want to talk about."

The boy's eyes widen, his face depicts concern, and he moves on to sit on the stool beside the rack holding the pots and pans. Donatello goes to sit on the counter across from him. A couple beats of silence pass as the two look at each other, studying one another's body language. The turtle came to the conclusion that his lab partner is laidback enough to take the conversation seriously but without too much panic. He feels relaxed enough to continue talking, so he does.

"I am aware that the future Casey speaks of—whenever he feels ready to, that is—is much different compared to ours. Everything that happened in that timeline is completely irrelevant to now due to the butterfly effect. You know, how a flap of a butterfly's wings could summon a hurricane? Well... something he told me keeps nagging me. It keeps this voice in my head rambling on and on, it won't stop telling me things that make me feel... Things. I don't know what! I am feeling things and I hate when I do because I can't label them!"

Donatello stands up and begins pacing, cracking his fingers one by one as he continues to talk and his lab partner listens.

"Casey told me you had a partner in the future. It was great at first... spending a little under a decade together... then they were possessed by Kraang biomatter. You... you disobeyed Leo's orders to look for them, to capture them and keep them under control for when I found a serum to inject in them, one that could kill off the Kraang schmuck but leave their human flesh unaffected... But you didn't make it back to base."

He stands from the stool he sat on and approached Donatello, carefully holding his hands out, palms facing up. The softshell takes his hands and revels in their softness, visibly relaxing and staying put.

"Your passing is not what affects me the most," Donatello reaches up to cup his friend's cheek in his hand, swiping his thumb lightly across his face. "It's you sharing your affections with anyone other than I. That is what is bothering me."

The boy freezes, blinking up at Donatello with a confused smile. "You're the only one I share moments like these with. I don't understand what you're saying," he giggles, reaching up to squeeze Donatello's hand. The scientist is equally as perplexed.

"I'm saying that I love you."

He stands up straighter, rigid and unyielding. Heat spreads upon his face and he looks away, his laugh wavering.

"You know, hearing that in person sounds a lot better."

Donatello still holds his breath, waiting, waiting, waiting.

"I love you too, Donnie."

The mutant feels lightheaded when he exhales, then leans in for a second before stopping himself. His lab partner grins, nodding while he bites his lip knowingly. Donatello springs into action, gripping his friend's shoulders and pulling him in to meld his lips on his, tasting, savouring, fluttering his eyes shut as a grin stretched across his face, parting from the kiss with muddy, blushing cheeks.

"Can we do that more? That was really nice. I would like to open a document for this... if you let me."

He rolled his eyes and pulled his favourite turtle closer.

"Yes, you may, 'Tello. We have all the time in the world."

#rottmnt #rottmnt writing #rise of the tmnt #rise donnie #rise donatello #rottmnt donnie #rise donnie x reader #oneshot #no beta we die like gram gram #angst #light angst #fluff #angst with a happy ending #yippee

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flowers-for-the-grave · 6 months

Text

Calm Before The Storm

There were no more Yellows now. Which as a result meant no more mercy, or grace periods. No one would show kindness anymore, not when the entire world was against you. Allies would only be standing in your way. Hindrances to success.

Scott stood at the diving board, staring out upon the server. He could see everyone beginning to head back to their bases clearly. His fingers itched, the way they always did when he was Red, slowly finding his bow and holding it up. An arrow was nocked, aimed and ready for someone's head. He didn't know whose head. It didn't matter in the end. They were all just heads on bodies waiting to be chopped off.

Shaking himself out of it, he lowered his bow and put the arrow back in its quiver.

Gem was sat on the floor with her sword in her lap. A strand of hair fell over her eyes and she hastily brushed it away. She stared at her reflection in the sword, a frown tugging at her lips, tilting it this way and that presumably to find a noticeable change.

Everyone felt different as a Red.

No one knew how. There were no physical differences to before, no changes in demeanour or personality. A player didn't instantly grow cold and calculated with an intense thirst for blood. The bloodlust was always inside of them. It just never arose as a Green or a Yellow. It simmered in their stomachs on a low heat, only to have the temperature rocket up and the pot overflow, teeming with the urge to kill. The need to have blood on your fingers. To feel the weight of a weapon in your hands, or to hold the lever to set off a TNT trap.

Many tried to look for a difference. It was quite common for players unfamiliar with the game to do so. They always believed there to be something wrong with them physically, and resorted to searching for changes in what little time they had on their hands.

They never found anything, sadly, but no one did.

"Gem," Scott began, walking over to her. She lifted her eyes to his for a moment, then looked back down at her sword. "Gem." he repeated, firmer. She paid him no mind. Apparently a reflection was more important than her teammate.

Impulse stepped out of his house and sat next to Gem. He stretched his arms and placed his palms in the grass, running his hands through the blades. Like many other players, his hands were riddled with scars, burns, blisters and callouses. "What's up?"

"That's the problem," Scott replied. "Nothing. Nothing is happening."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Impulse asked. "I mean, that means we have time to prepare for an attack, or a trap." He nudged Gem with his arm playfully. "Right Gem?"

She didn't respond.

Scott leaned in a little closer and sighed. Her eyes had glazed over. Again.

"Third time today." he grumbled.

Standing up, Impulse bent down to scoop Gem up into his arms and made a start for the gate. He gestured with his head for Scott to follow, and follow he did. He opened the gate for Impulse, and the two of them descended down the stairs and walked past the Secret Keeper statue. The mere sight of it was enough to send shivers down Scott's spine and make him want to run.

They stopped by Cleo's first. Unsurprisingly, Etho was there too.

"What is it?" Cleo asked. She whispered something in Etho's ear and he nodded, scurrying off quickly.

Once his receding footsteps were out of earshot, Scott answered. "It's happening again. I'm gathering some of the players."

She nodded, gradually understanding. "Alright, just give me a moment to grab my things." she disappeared.

Scott stood there, impatiently tapping his foot until Etho arrived with Grian in tow. Both of them were holding bundles of blankets with some snacks thrown in there for good measure. Grian yawned, attempting to rub his eyes.

Cleo reemerged a short while later with more snacks and some water.

The group left and headed towards Pearl's, where Scott broke off from the group to retrieve an additional guest. Before he could even knock on the door, Martyn was outside with all his stuff, a small smile on his face.

"Cleo messaged me," he explained. Scott walked alongside him back to Pearl's, where everyone was sat waiting. Some of them weren't able to join them, so it wasn't quite as full a group as usual, but it was still something.

He took some of the blankets from Martyn and laid them out on the floor. Everyone else did the same, then sat down.

Gem was the last one to sit. Impulse had to guide her to an available spot and gently lower her until she was perched on the edge. Her eyes were still glazed, but a fraction of light and normalcy was returning to them already.

Scott sat down beside Impulse, with Martyn's head in his lap. He absent-mindedly twirled strands of Martyn's hair whilst humming a small tune. He couldn't recall where he'd heard it; perhaps in passing, in the space between the games, or maybe it had been playing when he was in a different server. It sounded similar to a drinking song, so maybe it had been from Pirates.

"Now what?" Grian asked. He perched himself far from the others, but close enough to Cleo and Etho to reach them in case of an unfortunate event. His gaze was on Gem, his eyes narrowing mildly.

Etho chimed in. "We hang out. Eat. Talk. And we wait for Gem to come back."

Cleo nodded in agreement, a small smile curling at her lips. Her hand met Etho's, and their fingers entwined.

---

It took a while for Gem to come back fully. She'd return in brief fits, then leave soon after. It was like flicking a switch on and off repeatedly, only more stressful and each wait seemed to stretch on for eternity.

But once she started to ground herself, it became easier.

Her thoughts were a swirling mass of death, flashes of red every time she shut her eyes. Something was wrong with her. Something had changed, but what? What had changed so drastically about her?

She looked the same. Felt the same. Even tasted the same, which she tested herself (although maybe she did taste different and simply didn't notice.)

But something about her must have been wrong.

She was wrong. A freak. A creature of her own design or maybe someone else's.

Whenever she came to, she was surrounded by people. Impulse's hand on her knee, fingers tapping along to a rhythm. Scott humming a tune, playing with Martyn's hair, his hums occasionally turning into snippets of song lyrics. Cleo and Etho holding hands and smiling, Etho's head on cleo's shoulder, eyes shut in contentment. Grian watching warily. Pearl next to him with a calming hand on his shoulder.

A pang struck her heart when she came to.

They were all here for her. They'd dropped whatever they were doing, for her.

She was important to them.

Gem fell back again into that whirlpool of thoughts. They swirled viciously in her mind, growling and barking and biting like a pack of rabid wolves. Their fur was the colour of blood, and Their eyes were pools of purple. A strange black liquid oozed from Their fangs and dripped onto the ground. They approached from all sides, closing in slowly, leaving Gem less and less time to escape.

Panic bubbled in her chest and she balled the clumps of her shirt in her hands, trying to remember how to breathe.

"You're okay," Impulse's voice whispered in her mind. Was she? She didn't feel like it. "I've got you."

She almost laughed at the thought. He didn't. Not only because she was here and he was out there but also because no one could ever truly have Gem secure in their company. There was always that thin line, that tightrope of danger she was obliged to walk on. One misstep and she fell back into that world of blood, wolves and that rising sense of fear.

"Gem, we're here for you. Take your time." Cleo.

"You've got this," was a half-hearted encouragement from Martyn. He yelped, grumbled under his breath, then hastily added, "I believe in you!"

A hand gently squeezed her kneecap. She saw it, saw the hand, but not the hand at the same time. It flickered in and out of physicality, not wanting to be there for too long. Then it settled into reality with a firm determination.

Something else appeared, too. A shaky apparition, a figure bathed in sunlight. His wings were folded against his back, his red sweater worn and fraying. There was a scar on his temple, and a bruise on his cheek. A second appeared closer to her, gently illuminated by small floating stars, his pointed ears sharp and alert. Then came another, in a cloak of woven moonlight, a toothy smile revealing her elongated canines.

Then finally came one surrounded by a thick outline of red. There was a pendant around his neck of a hand grasping an hourglass.

They all smiled kindly at her, their faces coming into visibility slowly. Everything unnatural about them faded away until they were simply Grian, Scott, Pearl and Martyn, all still in their respective positions.

"Welcome back," Etho greeted.

Scott exhaled in relief, his hand falling to his side. Martyn frowned at its absence, sitting up properly. His hand crept into Scott's lap and rested on his thigh. A grin curled at Scott's lips.

Gem leaned into Impulse. "I'm tired." she whispered, not trusting her voice enough to raise it much more. Still, her words carried across to the others and a blanket was tossed her way. She caught it easily - surprisingly enough, but that must've been a good thing if her reflexes were already coming back - and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"G'night," Martyn said, letting gravity push him backwards. Scott fell with him, letting out a displeased noise when his back hit the ground. "Let's all have a five minute grace period before killing each other, yeah?"

They all mumbled their assent.

Gem and Impulse lay down, close but not touching. She couldn't touch him just yet; her body still didn't quite feel as it should. But when it did, she'd hug him.

Until then, she'd have to rest.

A Red Life was many things; vicious, unforgiving, spiteful, vengeful.

But they were also kind, gentle and merciful when the time called for it.

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u-ntitled-s-eries · 7 months

Text

Chanedlure!Ingo x Reader - Corpse Bride(?)

With the wedding rehearsal in less than an hour, it was inevitable that you would come face to face with your future husband, something you still had yet to ready yourself for. However, you would have never expected that he would seek you out right before the ceremony and would approach you when the rest of his family had wandered off with yours to discuss matters in private. Still, the man standing before you looked like nothing less than a gentleman, calm and kind.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” He spoke soft and low. Much quieter than you expected from the son of a man such as Ghetsis.

“The pleasure is all mine, Natura.” Unable to meet his gaze, you instead cast your eyes downwards as you mumbled your response.

“Please, no need for such formalities.” He stepped closer, waiting until you granted him permission before sitting beside you. “My father and sisters call me N; it’s only fitting that you are allowed to do the same.”

“Very well then… N.” You could feel your heart thundering in your ribcage. Whether from embarrassment or excitement, you hadn’t the faintest idea.

“When Father first told me about the arrangement, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it." He finally said after some silence, yet not unkindly. "Marriage always felt so far away, and when the thought of it did cross my mind I always hoped I would marry for love. I supposed I was a little too hopeful.”

“I supposed…” You couldn’t help but nod along with him, only stopping when you realize what you just agreed to. “No, of course not! If it weren’t for our current circumstances, I would want the same. That’s not to say I’m opposed to marrying you, simply that I would choose to… fall in love first.”

Against your better judgement, you lifted your gaze and caught a glimpse of N smiling back at you.

“Perhaps you still can.”

- - - - - - - -

By now the entire town has caught word of how disastrously the wedding rehearsal unfurled, so you walk until you reach the forest, as it’s only there that you are truly safe from the stares and whispers that seemed to wait at every street corner. Perhaps your fears were well-founded after all, N would be better off marrying someone of nobility.

For goodness sake, you couldn’t even recite a single vow without so much as stuttering or fumbling a word.

“This shouldn’t be so difficult; all I need to do is repeat the words.” You mutter to no one, eyes cast down and feet dragging across the forest floor. Remembering the vows as they were recited during the rehearsal, you raise your left hand, as if resting above N’s. “With this hand, I will… hold your- No, wait, that doesn’t sound right.”

Further and further, into the woods you wander. The only company you have are a few stray Corviknights, staring at you with sunken red eyes from up above.

“With this ring, I will be your… It’s not ‘I will be your wife.’ Is it?” One of your new companions responds with a lone raspy cry.

Deeper you go, wandering and wondering even as the day fades and makes way for the moonlight.

“With this… candle - yes, start from the candle. With this candle, I will…”

What was it?

“I will…”

The urge to cry out in frustration persists, but you haven’t the strength to muster a shout. Instead, you hand your head in defeat. “I will set your sister on fire.”

Exhausted and confused, you decide to rest your weary feet on a fallen tree. At this rate, there might not even be a wedding. The golden band may as well be cast from lead with how heavy it weighs. But as the ring rests in the palm of your hand, you can’t help but think back to what N had shared with you.

Even when the rest of the room watched on with apathy and disdain, he still gave you fleeting glances and soft smiles. The choice to fall in love; that’s what he had offered you, is it not? With one last spark of hope, you held the ring in one hand and stood up, recalling the vows that had been recited this morning.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.”

While his father made no attempt to hide his contempt for the marriage, his sisters at least greeted you and your family with some level of hospitality. What are the odds Anthea would be willing to overlook today’s fiasco? Perhaps, in due time, you can make amends with her.

“With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring,”

Spying a nearby sapling poking out from the snow, you kneel down.

“I ask you to be mine.”

And you place the ring on a branch. It shines brightly on the blackened bark, and the sound you make can only be described as euphoric. Perfectly recited without any hesitation. Another Corviknight calls down, as if in celebration.

Then another. And another.

If you had waited to look for just a second longer, perhaps you would have spotted the ‘sapling’s branches twitch and jerk. But instead, you turned around and looked up to see over a dozen- no, two dozen pairs of beady faces staring back. And as they continued their crying and cawing, just barely noticeable over the whistle of the wind, you could just faintly hear… music.

Something grabs your wrist and yanks.

Hard.

The snow doesn’t even crunch as you’re pulled to the ground, and any sounds you make are swallowed up by the melody growing louder and the chorus of birds above. They leap from their branches with ready wings and talons, as if to descend upon you. Finally regaining your senses, you dig your heels into the dirt and pull your arm back.

Whatever it is that’s gripping your wrist tightens its hold, squeezing down on your skin. More and more black emerges from the snow as you use all of your weight to pull free. You don’t even think to scream, only to close your eyes and struggle against this thing dragging you down. But finally there’s a snap of twigs breaking and you’re free, stumbling back without anything to catch you. The frozen solid ground may as well be stone against your skull. Dazed, you lift your hand to your head and see what it is that grabbed you.

A skeletal arm with bones of pure black, wrapped in vines and tattered cloth clenches its fingers around your arm.

Your screams join the circling Corviknights and you tear the thing off, tossing it away.

The ground underneath rumbles, like giant metal cogs turning, and out of the corner of your eye the snow begins to stir. It heaves and jolts, then bursts open. A gloved hand emerges from the ground and claws into the snow, followed by a shoulder and neck. And as you see this shape pull itself from the earth, bones and branches snapping, the music never once stops.

And there, where you one knelt, stood a looming figure cast in black. With its one hand, it lifted the cap upon its head, revealing a sickly pale face with yellow eyes and blackened lips.

“I do.”

#Pokemon #Subway Boss Ingo #N #Reader #Submas #Ingo x Reader #what do you mean we're two-thirds of the way into October?!#Corpse Bride

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 1 year

Note

Can you write an nsfw on Tangerine having a fight with the reader about whether he can be trusted or not and the reader asks to prove that he loves her and then it turns into spicy sex 😜 I love the way you write sm like you’re a goddess ❤️💕

hii, yes absolutely, I love this. stop thank you sm🥹 and thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

prove it

tangerine x f reader

wc || 1.1k

warnings || 18+ only explicit content (pure word porn, p in v, light hair pulling, think that’s all) a bit of arguing at start) minors dni

masterlist + rules

taglist

Recently things with Tangerine have been a little difficult. He’s not the kind of guy to show how he feels which often made things fairly strenuous on your new relationship. You didn’t want him to change as a person, you just wanted him to meet you half way and express maybe an ounce of his feelings towards you, nothing drastic, just an ‘I like how things are going with you’ or ‘when can I see you again?’ You didn’t think you were asking for too much, but the way he responded told you otherwise.

So now, you were on your third dispute of the week and you were finally fed up.

“I don’t know what you want from me.” Tangerine sighs, frustratedly running his fingers through his curls.

“I just want you to show me you like me… just once in a while. I need to know if you feel the same way about me.” You empathise, talking with your hands as you paced the living room. “Just something— sometime, just—“

“‘Just’ what?” He asks, standing still on the opposite side of the room with furrowed brows.

“Why do you hide me?” You question, your tone full of hurt.

“Hide you? What do you mean?” His head quirking as watched you. “I don’t hide you.”

“Then why do we never go anywhere? Why haven’t I met your brother? Why have we never gone on an actual date?”

He doesn’t answer, he just stands there with a puzzled expression on his face.

Softly laughing. “I can’t believe this.” Shaking your head in disapproval. “You already got a girlfriend or something?”

His eyes narrow in on you, observantly watching your taut features. “Christ no, why would you say that?”

“I mean, that would make sense at least. I could live with that.” You lie, desperately trying to feel like your had the upper hand.

He flashes you a quick soft smile. “No, you couldn’t.”

“No, you’re right I couldn’t. I just need to know where we stand.“

“I like you, okay? … I like you a lot.” He says sheepishly, slowly making his way over to you.

Fighting off a grin. “You do?”

“Yes... and I’m not just saying it.” Replying to the question he knew you were mentally asking. “It’s not easy to talk about how I feel… I’ve… I’ve never felt this way about someone.” Acting coy as stood before you, slowly trailing his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks as he gazed down into your eyes.

“Really?” Cutely asking, smiling wide.

“Yes, you dick.” Lowering his head to meet yours, slowly brushing over your lips. “Do I need to prove it to you?” Grinning against your lips.

“How?” You ask, pretending to be think innocently.

Speaking low and slow while he snakes his hands around your jaw, bringing you in for another tender kiss. Whispering against your lips as he slips his hands under your ass, lifting you up and carrying you across the room. “On the couch.”

He gently lays you down across the sofa and immediately settles himself between your thighs, hovering over you. He wraps your legs around his hips, urgently wanting to feel you closer while he works over your lips, kissing them desperation as his fingers snake across your jaw and into a lock of hair at the back of your neck. “I like you too.” You say breathlessly against his hungry lips, lowering your hands to the hem of his t-shirt, dragging the fabric upwards as you urged it off him.

He heavily exhales against your neck, trailing kisses down your throat as he props himself on his knees between your thighs, pulling down your trousers, he stares deep into your eyes. Maintaining eye contact he begins to rub his thumb in slow circles over your fabric covered clit, trailing his fingertips over you with featherlight touch. You slip off your t-shirt, laying under him with nothing but a bra and underwear. His gaze flickers over your exposed skin, eyes darting across your breasts and bare belly as he slips off his joggers. Discarding them and then sliding his palms up your stomach, trailing them up and cupping under your tits, squeezing them through the fabric.

Slipping his hands into his boxers, gripping himself at the base he gives his already hardened cock a couple firm strokes before yanking down his underwear. He hovers back over you, settling himself between your thighs while he brushes his tip through the slick of your folds, collecting your sweetness around his shaft before slowly teasing in his head. His forehead rests against yours, breathing heavily and strained as he sinks into you.

He peppers your cheek in quick comforting kisses as you melt around his cock, treating you with care while he stretches you. “You’re beautiful.” He whispers, gazing into your blissed eyes, gingerly grinding his hips into you.

“So are you.” You smile, lightly grazing your fingers against his jaw to bring his face towards yours. You begin to faintly kiss his lips, effortlessly working over them as he starts to wind into you. Massaging the inside of you in the just way you both needed.

His head drops into the crook of your neck, mumbling incoherently as his hands roam your body, grasping and squeezing your skin as he slowly fucks into you. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He soft groans, clasping his hand around your throat, slinking his fingers back and behind, locking into a small fistful of hair and gently tugging. “So, fuckin good.”

Now that you were fully adjusted to his size he begins to speed up, sliding in and out of you in the pace you needed and craved. Hitting all of your perfect spots with the slight curve of his cock, giving you everything you could ever want and then some. His breathing grows heavy against your neck, strained and strangled as if he’s holding himself off as his fingers entangle into tighter locks of your hair.

His movements grow more precise and urgent when he hears your perfect little whimpers in his ear, the desperation in your moans only egging him on more and more as he fucks you. You claw at his biceps, fingers digging into his muscle as you feel the wave build within, gripping him with pure need.

You feel him start to twitch and pulsate inside of you which immediately sets you off. Tightening and clamping around his cock with your release, instinctively grinding up against him as you ride out the overwhelming engulfing feeling. Your spasming movements sparked his own release, softly grunting under your jaw as he spilled ropes of cum deep inside you.

He litters your face in quick sweet kisses before halting his thrusts, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you with him. Holding you to his chest as he flops back against the sofa, readjusting himself inside you he pecks your cheek tenderly. Stroking down your bare back as he speaks low and soft. “I’m gonna prove to you everyday just how much I actually like you.”

@tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @ch3rries-n-cream @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x you #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine imagine #bullet train tangerine #tangerine smut #tangerine blurb #tangerine and lemon #lemon and tangerine #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x y/n

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footballffbarbiex · 2 years

Text

Faking.

pairing: Charles x undescribed female reader Words: 2713 warnings: unprotected sex, oral (f), edging, hair pulling, mad Charles. Probably more but I can’t think straight right now.

Unbeta’d as usual, so all typos are my own bullshit. Idk why the font is being a dick, apologies.

You chew nervously on your fingernails as you allow your words to sink in. It’s a habit that you’ve never really snapped out of growing up and though you know that you can’t tear them off as they’re acrylic, it’s comforting none the less right now. It doesn’t stop the disapproving expression appearing on her face - though whether that’s from the nail biting attempt or what you’ve just confessed, you don’t know.

“You faked it?” Maddie responds slowly to make sure she understands. You nod.

“Yes,” You say in a low voice.

“Does Charles know?” She asks as you pull a face at her that silently suggests she’s an idiot.

“Of course not. Do you think I’d still be sitting here if he knew I had?” You nervously laugh at her comment. “No. It would hurt his ego too much for sure. You continue to attempt to pick at your nails as you lapse into silence.

“Are you going to tell him?” She asks as she reaches for her coffee cup.

“And tell him what exactly?” You ask her, voice dropping even lower than before. “Oh hey Charles. You know how we had some amazing sex last night? Well guess what? It was all a lie. I faked it. I never came and I just made you think that I had when you went down on me.” You finish on a sarcastic note and resist the urge to sit back in the chair with a childish huff. “Yeah, that’ll really make him feel happy. He’ll be furious.”

The thought alone, of his angry face and the way he’d hold himself knowing he couldn’t pleasure his girlfriend would be too much. He wouldn’t take it lightly. It makes you wish you had something stronger than just coffee in this mug.

“Do you really think he will take this to heart?” Maddie asks slowly.

“Any man would be offended at the best of times. Charles does not take this kind of thing lightly, it would have a huge impact on him. Not to mention make him wonder if it’s happened before.”

“And have you?”

“Of course not, that’s why I’m so ashamed of it.”

“Then why did you?

“I just…wasn’t there mentally. The sex was good. Don’t get me wrong, it felt good. But have you just been so distanced from what is happening that it wasn’t enough to get you there? I could feel it felt amazing but my mind just wouldn’t let me focus on it, and not in the usual mind blowing way. And he was trying so hard, but when I didn’t…you know, I just….faked it instead to save his jaw and fingers from aching.”

“Well, you need to decide if you want to keep it to yourself and get over it or tell him and hope it goes well.” Maddie takes a drink and you know she’s right.

Freshly showered and shaved, you can’t help but lay on the couch later that night and stroke your fingers over the smooth skin. Snuggling down only makes your legs rub together and you smile to yourself at the visual you’re creating, something Maddie would call “acting like a cricket”.

“What are you smiling at?” Charles asks as he enters the room.

“Just my smoothy smooth legs. Wanna feel?” You extend your leg as an offer. He grins at you as he makes his way over, his hand outstretched ready to feel.

“Very smooth. Does it stop here?” He asks, his fingers dancing over the skin at the top of your thigh.

“Nope,” You smirk at him as his fingers dip under your shorts and play with the edging of your panties. “Someone is in a good mood.”

“Of course I am. We had very good sex last night, I’ve had a good training session today and a relaxing evening so far with you. I’m hoping to continue that evening but with a little added spice.” You feel a pang of guilt as he speaks so happily about last night.

“Oh really?” You try to keep your voice light and friendly. Keep the panic from it even though it builds throughout you and leaves a telltale taste upon your tongue. “And how do you plan on doing that?” You ask him. He smiles to himself as he slowly kneels before you. His knees give a little click as he rests his weight upon them. “Are you OK old man? Your knees are worse than mine and I’m on mine more than you are,” you tease.

“This old man is going to please you in ways no young man can.” He playfully bites at your thighs before kissing his way over with open mouthed kisses and a flick of his tongue to soothe the slightly darkened area from where he’d nibbled. His fingers curl themselves over the top of your shorts and underwear. “Ass up.” His lips never leave your skin as he speaks, only doing so briefly to tug down the material that barely covers your lower half.

You do as you’re told, acting obediently for him to half strip you. You raise your feet so that the fabrics can be tugged from your feet and dropped to the floor. His lips find the top of your thighs again and your skin tingles with anticipation. You stop yourself from tilting your hips to the direction of his face, forcing him to kiss you where you want him to; need him to even.

“Are you not satisfied with my kisses?” Charles mutters against your skin as he peers up at you. Beautiful eyelashes fluttering against his skin as he watches you, lips continuing to lightly press more kisses to your body, getting closer to where you want him but far enough away to still bring frustration.

“I am, I’m trying not to rush this.” You respond quietly.

“You want my mouth somewhere else? Didn’t you get enough of it last night?” He asks before nipping at the skin inside your groin. His tongue pokes from his lips as he tilts his head and his tongue brushes lightly against your clit. A low hum escapes your mouth and your fingers thread through his hair, holding him in place as he begins to lick and suck at your sensitive bead.

You move your body slightly and open your legs further, granting him better access as his tongue dips below, forcing its way between your folds and teases at your dripping entrance. You tug on his hair and moan as the spot that he knows you love is caressed, causing your legs to shake and stomach to tense. His tongue sweeps back up to your clit and you feel two fingers enter, turning upwards and a beckoning motion made.

Charles continues this for a few more moments, building you up just enough so that you’re trembling and panting his name. His fingers thrust into you and curl with such precision you’re unable to form any other words other than yes or his name. Any coherent thought you may have had is pushed from your mind, a very different experience to last night. You can feel your orgasm approaching, your fingers tighten on his hair, you’re seconds away from grinding your cunt against his fingers when he pulls away from you and removes his fingers.

He smiles down at you as he licks them clean and begins to tug at his shorts. All you can do is lay before him, a frown etching onto your face as you wonder why the fuck he’s stopped.

“What’s with the frowny face?” He asks as his hand dips inside his shorts and you watch as he strokes his dick. Usually you would be licking your lips and needing it in your mouth but you’re too frustrated to entertain the thought.

“I didn’t finish?”

“Yes you did?” Charles frowns back at you. “I felt your muscles go tight around me? You tugged my hair and moaned?” He says. “I mean, you didn’t squirt like you usually do but you didn’t last night either. I thought you seemed pretty satisfied…” He trails off and you feel your stomach drop. His expression changes and in that moment you realise that he knows.

“Well, no. I didn’t last night.” You finally admit in a quiet voice. Charles removes his hand from his boxers and rests both of them on either side of your hips to prop himself up.

“Because you didn’t cum at all and instead, you decided to pretend that you had. That’s why.” He says confidently, his expression still a mix of amusement and anger. “You seem to forget that I’ve made you lose all control many, many times. I know your every sound, your every moan and the way your cunt feels around my fingers and against my tongue. I know the way your clit throbs when you’re close. The way you taste when you cum, when you squirt. I didn’t need to hear that conversation earlier to confirm all of this.”

“Why did you pretend to not know?” You ask, voice barely more than a whisper as you begin to wonder why the fuck he is being so calm about it all.

“And miss an opportunity like this? I think not.” Charles shifts his weight and dips his hand back into his boxers and grips himself again. With his free hand, he pushes his boxers down over his hips and exposes himself - making you bite your lip and barely hold back a groan as you watch his hand work his length.

“You want this baby?” Charles’s gaze remains on your face.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I want it Charles. I want it deep inside me.” You moan softly as he teases the head of his dick within the first inch of you. Just enough for you to feel it but not enough to begin to feel yourself stretch to his width. “Charles please,” You plead with him.

“You insult me,” he begins to explain himself as he looks down between your bodies as he slowly pulls himself from you before sliding back in just enough for you to be able to feel it again. “You fake your orgasm and boast about it to your friend.” He silences you with a look when you open your mouth to object that you hadn’t boasted at all, “And you think I will let you have your way immediately? Why didn’t you just say you didn’t want to have sex?” He asks. Two fingers find your clit once more and begin to rub small circles alongside the slow, shallow thrusts.

You bite your lip harder and try to move your hips against him, only to be stopped by his hand pressing down on your lower abdomen, holding you in place and not allowing you to take control to enjoy yourself.

“I did want to have sex with you! I just wasn’t in the right mood to finish.”

“You have to be in the right mood?” Charles stops his movements and raises his eyebrow, “since when?”

“You can finish every single time if you thrust enough. It’s a done deal, it doesn’t take a whole lot to make a guy cum. It takes a lot more to stimulate a woman. We need to be turned on up here too.” you tap your head. “My mind just wasn’t in it completely so I couldn’t finish.”

You sit yourself up and kiss his neck. Your lips caressing the soft skin there covering the hard muscle; feeling the way they tense and relax beneath your touch. “Charles? I didn’t cum last night through no fault of either of us.” you kiss him again just above his pulse point, near to where his earlobe is. The one place that turns him on the most and can turn any “no” to a yes. Your tongue lightly licks at his skin before you kiss there again and you can feel him beginning to melt against you.

“Tonight, you’ve stopped me from having my orgasm to teach me a lesson. But please fuck me.” You continue to kiss him, leaving a trail along his jaw, up to his lips where you nibble gently at his plump bottom lip, then kiss your way back down. “Please fuck me Charles. I need you inside me.” He swallows hard and you know he won’t last long hearing you plead like this. “Charles, please. Take me.” He pushes you backwards before his hands start to explore your body. Fingers sliding over your ass cheeks and he pulls you towards him. At the same time, your fingers curl around his dick and you begin to slowly stroke him. “Please baby,”

A low growl sounds in his throat as he moves quickly back between your legs and presses his tongue to you, flicking his tongue over your clit in little, quick motions that leave your legs shaking immediately. He slides two fingers inside of your pussy, moving them in such a way that they brush against your g-spot with every motion.

Charles is right, he knows your body's signs too well to pull any kind of shit with him. He pulls his fingers from you and no longer uses his mouth. You whimper his name, the question of why has he stopped is taking shape on your lips as your orgasm completely fizzles away and it’s only then that he starts again. He brings you to the edge again and again before your frustration finally gets the better of you.

“Why are you doing this?”

“I’m working off my anger.” He responds nonchalantly, closing his eyes and dips his tongue inside you again. Your pussy throbs against him, tired of the overstimulation now.

“Charles I swear if you don’t allow me to-”

“You’ll do what?” Charles opens his eyes and raises his eyebrow.

“Ok, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I faked my orgasm and then talked to someone about it.” You quickly say, “I won’t do it again. I’ll just make you work for it harder. Now please, just fuck me or make me cum at least.” You grip his hair tightly as his tongue darts back inside with a newfound force. He swirled his tongue, lapping everything up given to him while his thumb worked against your clit. Charles continues unrelentingly as your stomach tenses and the grip on his hair tightens as finally, your orgasm rips throughout you and spills over his waiting tongue.

Charles wastes no time to manipulate your body into a position that he wants and needs, barely giving you time to fully come down from your high when you feel him thrust into you from tip to base. Your fingers claw at the sofa, taking handfuls of the plush material as he thrusts hard into you.

Making the mistake of lifting your hand and biting at the soft skin there to try and muffle your moans, Charles growls with annoyance. “Don’t hide your noises.” His hands wrap around your ankles and draws your knees up to your chest, using your thighs and hips as a way to anchor himself as he fucks into you.

His short nails dig into the skin but you don’t care. Waves of pleasure lick through your body with each of his thrusts and your low moans seem to bounce from the walls of the living room.

“You feel so fucking good like this.” Charles groans and your pussy tenses around his cock. You watch as his eyes roll into the back of his head and he bites his lip, picking up the pace even more until you’re no longer sure where one thrust ends and another begins.

“Do that again, I’m so close, baby.” Charles whimpers. You obey, soft walls now hardening around him, holding him within your cunt in a vice-like grip and within seconds, his movements are slowing and becoming sloppy as he reaches his own climax.

“Never lie to me again,” He breathes heavily, his eyes dark and his cheeks are flush with colour. You press your lips to his before smiling.

“I promise I won’t. Even if you did look gorgeous while proving a point.” He grins back at you, placing delicate kisses on the tip of your nose and forehead.

Official Charles tag list: @disneydaddyevans | @enjoymyloves

#formula one imagine #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 smut

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inevitablysomber-dark · 1 year

Text

Shackled (Chapter 8)

Dark! Rafe Cameron x Pogue! Reader

Warning: There are some intense, dubiously consenting and nonconsensual sexual themes in this series, MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY. MINORS DNI.

Summary: You hate Outer Banks with a passion and are working hard to get out despite all the obstacles in your way. Rafe himself eventually becomes one of those obstacles after a night of low impulse control. Will you be able to overcome him or with you have no choice but to submit.

Slow Burn

Series Masterlist

“So that’s it. You’re just gonna run like you haven’t been caught?” Mary yells after you as she and Ether scramble to keep up with your pace

You walk faster, deciding to take the bus to Rafe’s place and just wait for him outside till he gets home.

Before you could cross the street, you felt someone grab your arm and pull you back.

You turn to see Ether’s giant wide eyes full of confusion.

“I thought we were friends. Why didn’t you tell us?” she asks.

“Because she’s not our friend Ether, she did it on fucking purpose,” Mary remarks, venom dripping from her voice.

“Did you ever really consider me your friend?” you ignore Mary, asking Ether.

“Well, we took you to parties with us,” she says.

“Where you would abandon me later.” you tackled.

“We invited you out sometimes.” she defends.

“When you wanted a favor, or in this case, when you’re trying to find something out,” you responded.

“Look, Ether, you don’t treat me like a friend,” you pull your arm from her grasp “ I’m some conditional thing that you and Mary are afraid to let go of, and you know what? It’s my fault for trying to exploit that.” you move back a bit.

“That’s not true,” Ether says

“Ether, you don’t even know my last name, and we’ve known each other for like 6 years.” she was taken aback because she knew I was right.

Mary huffs behind her, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why Rafe? You knew we had a thing for him. How long did you plan on keeping this from us?”

“ It just happened.” you shrug as a sigh escapes your lungs “ And honestly, I didn’t expect this thing between Rafe and me to last this long.”

When you look at her, you see Rafe going in your direction.

“Look, I get it if you don’t want to hang out anymore.”

As Rafe comes over, he ignores Mary and Ether and heads straight to you.

“You good?” he asks, peering into your eyes.

“Yea, I was just heading home.” you nod.

“I’ll take you” before you could protest, he pulled you away by your waist, from the direction of the bus stop and towards the parking lot.

“Nice seeing you ladies,” he says, throwing a noncommittal wave in their direction.

You see Kelce and Topper staring at the scene in the distance. “What about your friends?” you ask.

“ Oh, them? We can catch up anytime.” he leaves no room for discussion as we walk up to the Valet, and you have no motivation to press with any further questions.

As he hands the Valet his ticket, you feel an urge creep up your spine.

“Let’s go to the beach,” you say unprompted you don’t know why but you need to go to the beach.

He looks down at you, observing your face before sticking out his bottom lip to ponder your request.

“Ok” —

“So, did you just want to sit in the truck, or do you wanna go for a walk?” Rafe asks

You had been sitting in his truck for about 15 minutes before he decided to say anything.

You look at him as if you were just noticing his presence, and at that moment, with the breeze of the sea filling your lungs and the scene of the sun just about to set, Rafe had to have the bluest eyes you’d ever seen.

You turn to look out the window “ Where is everybody?”

Usually, there would be several bodies doing all kinds of activities, activities you were hoping to distract you from the empty feeling in your gut.

“I heard they were having some kind of event at the wreck. Kelce and Topper planned on heading over there after hutting the country club. Apparently, the entire island was invited”

That made you feel worse because something told you Mary and Ether knew.

“I wasn’t,” you say, looking back at him.

“Well, I think it was more of an ear-by-ear thing?” he looks at you, smirking.

You unbuckle your belt and move to kiss him. You feel his fingers creep around your waist before pulling you into his lap, his belt undone because Rafe didn’t believe in seatbelts.

You pull away from the kiss for a moment.

“I don’t think this town likes me,” you confess.

Rafe’s brows scrunch together in confusion.

“Now, why would you think that,” he gives your lips a little peck

You feel his hardness push against your crotch and slowly start to grind against it.

“I understand why the kooks hate me,” his head perks at that statement, “but even the pogues have this weird aversion towards me like they don’t want anything to do with me.” he lets out a frustrated breath as you move to let his member free.

“The adults tell their kids to stay away from me,” you push your panties to the side as you lower yourself on his rigid length; a small gasp pulled from your lips “It's like I have no one on my side here” You carefully move your hips, shocked by your wetness.

“Maybe, it’s just in your head,” Rafe contributes, grabbing your waist to control your movement, his breath struggling to keep steady.

“That’s why I’m leaving,” you reveal

He stops.

“Where are you going?” Rafe looks into your eyes, a stern expression on his face.

You shrug. “I’ve been scrounging up as much as possible for these last few years. I want to know if it’s just me or this town. I’m gonna travel and try to live my best life.” You continue the movement of your hips, closing your eyes as satisfaction creeps up your spine from the pressure of his cock. His fingers creep from your waist, replaced by his arms, and he pulls you closer to his body, keeping you still.

“Well, regardless of what this town thinks,” he shoves his hips forward, and the sudden movement pushes the air from your lungs. “I’ll always be here.”

He swiftly moves his hips up and down, driving his cock in and out of you.

His thrusts maximize the tension of your oncoming climax before you're consumed by an implosion of ecstasy, forcing you to move your head forward to rest on his shoulder as he continues his attack on your cunt.

Your bodies occasionally hit the horn, but with no one there to witness your naughty behavior, you could care less.

#Dark!Rafe Cameron #Dark!Rafe Cameron x Reader #Dark! Rafe Cameron x Pogue! Reader #Dark OBX #Pogue! Reader #Pogue Reader #dark fics #Rafe Cameron c Reader #Outer Banks #series #Shackled #Shackled Series #dub con #dubcon #dubious consent

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applesontheground · 2 years

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follow my lead ⛓️

so, i was going to wait to add this man onto my list because i have a few others along with that i wanted to ease into, but this was dire and i have decided i'm not going slow with him.

this is my first short take on the man himself, Rusty Nail! special thanks to @tinalbion and @bisexual-horror-fan for showing me the Joy Ride trilogy and calling me out when i got very quiet during certain parts.

NSFW | Word Count: 904 | Rusty Nail x GN!Reader

contains canon typical/mentions of violence, implied kidnapping + stockholm syndrome, praise kink, overstimulation, thigh riding

Sometimes, you would slip into reality and realize what you were doing. It was easy to feel the pleasure that Rusty had brought you, the unconventional turn of events that lead you to face his affections rather than the wrath, but at the same time you would sometimes glance out of the window of his truck and recall that this had at one point been a cabin of utmost terror. Terror that melted into excitement, maybe, but it all made you a little sick to the stomach to consider.

Unfortunately for you, you liked to keep quiet and you liked to follow directions. This lead the chain that was the man – like the one that hung from his wallet and lashed out like a vice to anyone who got too close – to hold onto you with a different kind of desire. The kind that didn’t leave you on the asphalt in five different sections.

He found those things out about you rather early. Maybe that was why you were seated in his lap instead of tied up behind the seat or kept out of sight on the floor of the cabin. You didn’t even know if that was how he normally treated people, because he sure wasn’t treating you like a normal person that he pulled off the road. A part of you reminded yourself that wasn’t necessarily a good thing, but his voice speaking up prevented you from thinking about it too hard.

“I tell you to stop?”

You shook your head, trying to pull your eyes away from the window and rekindle that itch that was being scratched from having your core dragged along his thigh. Head tipped down, you braced the side of the seat with one hand and kept grinding over the rough denim, letting it abuse the [soft skin of your cock/hot folds of your cunt] in a way that made your body lock up in a desperate urge to drown in the pain and the pleasure all the same.

“Need help forgettin’ about something?” He then asked, shifting slightly and trying not to laugh at how you quickly wobbled from the movement, “You still look a little distracted.”

“I-I’m fine,” You tried to start, but you knew with how he tipped his head to the side slightly and the resting expression twitched that he didn’t believe it. Even if you couldn’t see his eyes half the time, half from how low he wore his hat and his disinterest in keeping the lights on in his truck, he wasn’t that hard to read when you were this close. Shuddering slightly, you then assured, “I promised you I was going to follow your lead, and I intend to hold true to that.”

“Sure.” His hand slid back up to hold you by the hip, “Wouldn’t expect less from a good [girl/boy/listener].” Your gaze fluttered back up at that, keening to him with devotion to the praise that you didn’t even know was in you. Even weak and a little frightened under the rub of those large hands against your lower back, you reveled to the purr of his voice, “Don’t find someone with so much eagerness to behave for me. You’re a smart one, sweetness. Can see it’s kept you out of trouble- Well, ‘cept what I brought to you.”

Sweetness, you nearly echoed him in awe that he’d call you that, but only responded with a slight tremble and a dazed smirk instead. One hand came up, trailing over your jaw before his thumb pressed against your chin, index finger tracing down from under your ear to meet it in a few motions. Leaning into the touch, you cautiously took the one hand from the seat to his thigh, closing your eyes for a moment.

“There we are, let’s forget about all that trouble on your mind now.” He eased, pulling you close again when you slid backwards and making another needy sound leave your mouth, “Knew you’d play nice for me.”

Even when he had first taken you, you’d sometimes press your face against his leg when you slept on the floor. More to keep your head steady and try to recuperate some energy for another day full of torment that he attracted whether or not he actually wanted it more than something he brought on himself, but even in those times where you felt less than any dirt under his boot, there’d be the early hours of the morning where his hand would be holding your head in place instead of settled on the stick shift or the wheel, sure you were asleep while he worked a knot in the back of your neck out.

You hadn’t been asleep for those moments, and that knowledge would likely go with you to the grave. Something told you that he knew it despite that, seeing you recognizing the same touch now and comfortable enough to press into it. Rusty knew far more than people expected, and as with most things about him you were aware of what those hands that held you so carefully could do.

The same hands that would cup your jaw, the need to sink his nails into the skin when he spoke to you fading each time that he held you. Not completely gone, yet harder to act on when your smile found its natural pull.

“See what happens when someone knows when to listen?”

#rusty nail x reader #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #notsfw #✏️#⛓️#tried to write straight p*rn. goes into 500 word thing about being the token of his affections instead. what is wrong with me

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frost-queen · 2 years

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A writer’s muse (Male!Reader x Count Olaf)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @theletterhart, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco @idkwhatmyusernam, @subjecta13-thefangirl

The lights light up as the curtain dropped. The entire theatre clapped slowly and unsure what to think of the play they just witnessed. You were vigorously writing on the top paper of your stack. Idea’s flooding through your mind as you had to write them all down. Bits and pieces of scenes. The person beside you gave you a curious glance. You were so occupied with your own fantasies that you could care less. The spotlight shot onto the curtains.

The curtains ruffled as one tried to get through. Count Olaf stepped out in the open, taking a deep bow. – “Thank you, thank you.” – he recited with a theatre bow. Grand and luxurious. Your head shot up; eyes wide on him. Dropping your pen, you started clapping loud. Louder than anyone else. Count Olaf’s attention got drawn to it, seeing you clap excitedly. You certainly stood out as no one else clapped this approving to him. Count Olaf extended his arm out to you.

“Thank you!” – he said kissing his palm that he waved at you. Your chest rose at your deep inhale. What an honor it was that he noticed you. Count Olaf motioned to the person in charge of the spotlight letting him know to cut it. The light blacked out. He straightened his vest. The curtains flew up as he made his escape through it.

You gulped collecting all of your papers in a messy pile. – “Sorry… could you…” – you said getting up. You gestured for passage. The man beside you puffed as he tucked his belly in. – “Thank you.” – you responded passing him. – “Forgive me… thank you… If you would be so kind…” – you kept saying urging your way out of the seat row. People murmured leaving a way open for you. Some pulled their legs up, others got up to let you pass.

“Thank you.” – you breathed out, hopping out of the row as your foot got caught with another pair of legs. – “Maniac!” – someone huffed at you. You exhaled brief, looking back at the seat row. You then started running down the steps. – “Excuse me!” – you called out, jumping between a couple that got up to leave.

You bumped hard against someone as they fell to the ground. – “Sorry!” – you apologized without pausing. You needed to catch him before he left. The person on the ground rose their fist to you, scolding. You ducked down under a pair that were about to take their coat. – “Hey!” – they said as you clumsily proceeded your way.

You came to the backstage door. You were about to simply pass through when a tall blunt man stopped you. – “No passage.” – he said making you sigh. – “I won’t take long… I just have to meet him.” – you explained. The tall blunt man shook his head, arms crossed. – “Please! I am begging you. Let me meet him. I need to meet Count Olaf!” – you urged. He shook his head again. – “I am a writer.” – you said. – “I wish to share my idea’s with the brilliant man.” – you hoped someway you were convincing him.

“Please… just one chat.” – you begged. The tall blunt man stepped aside opening the door. – “Follow me.” – he spoke waving for you to follow him. – “Thank you! Thank you.” – you responded going after him. You looked quickly around the backstage area. A bald man cleaning his claw made you swallow nervously. An old pair of twins bickering over a piece of scarf while pulling at it.

You stepped up your pace as you were falling behind. The tall blunt man came to a stop near a door with a plastered star on it. The star looking rather poorly as if oneself had done it. The top point hanging low, the words Count Olaf written with an inky pen that had left a few smudges here and there. He opened the door bowing down to enter. – “Boss.” – he said.

Count Olaf turned around in his chair with a whiff of arrogance. His fingers pressed together. – “Who is he?” – he said with a gesture at you. – “I…I…” – you began stepping forwards. You were so nervous that your stack of papers dropped onto the floor. You dived to the ground to collect them, Count Olaf rolling his eyes. – “Why did you let him in?” – Count Olaf asked his henchman. The tall blunt man pulled his shoulders up. – “He insisted.” – he responded making Count Olaf purr.

“I…I am a writer.” – you said out loud getting up as some papers fell once more in the process. – “A writer?” – Count Olaf repeated curious. – “Yes… I… I saw your play and let me just say that it was marvelous. Like nothing I have ever seen.” – you complimented. – “Go on.” – Count Olaf said, leaning back in his chair. – “Your play gave me an idea for another one…” – you scrambled through your papers trying to find the right one through your own mess.

“You are a very talented man.” – you added seeing him gleam with pride. – “I see you are one to spot talent!” – he responded waving for his henchman to leave. You found the right piece of paper handing it over. You bowed low, stepping back. Count Olaf quirked his eyebrow up reading your notes. – “If it is not of your liking, I…I have a million other idea’s.” – you said since his expression was unreadable. You couldn’t tell if he liked it or loathed it.

“I don’t know what I was thinking but when I saw you on that stage… I was stunned. The idea’s flooded in my mind as I couldn’t stop. Count Olaf.” – you dropped to your knees. – “You are a marvelous man… and… if you allow me, I’d like to write your next play… You can take any of my idea’s… I wouldn’t mind. Take them all!” – you blurted out not sure what overcame you.

Count Olaf took a deep breath getting up from his chair. – “Any play?” – he asked. You got up to your feet nodding hastily. Count Olaf stuck his hand out with a smirk. – “You have yourself a deal young man!” – You shook it overjoyed. – “Thank you, Count Olaf,… I look forwards working with you.” – you bowed your head still shaking his hand. That made him curl his lip up, pulling his hand away. – “Now I need my rest!” – he snapped his finger. – “Of course…” – you commented picking up the fallen papers.

Months you were now working with the great man. The first play he did of yours was a great success. People even threw roses on stage in stead of shoes at him. It was a wonderful feeling that finally he got the recognition he deserved and wanted. It was the time between a new play as you sat in his study re-writing a scene. Count Olaf entered as you immediately noticed his presence. – “Olaf! I have this amazing idea for the boat scene. It came to me last night; I know you’ll like it!” – you rambled excitedly.

Count Olaf looked around his study. He couldn’t tell his mess apart from yours anymore. It had become one giant mess. Stacks of papers everywhere. Empty pots of ink on the floor and desk. You were taking quick notes with a focused mind. Count Olaf observed you, intrigued by your facial expressions. There was something about a focused genius that flattered him. Seeing you get so lost in your work like he does with his plays. – “Oh! Imagine a sea creature!” – you blurted out, getting the thought. You smiled eagerly writing it down. Count Olaf smiled as well. He approached the desk plucking your piece of paper from underneath your nose.

You stared bewildered at him, reading your notes. – “Come on Y/n you can do better than this!” – he said slapping his hand against paper. – “Is… is it bad?” – you asked nervous. – “I knew it… you hate it… let me scratch that idea!” – you wanted to snatch the paper from him as he moved it out of your grip. – “I never said I hated it.” – he answered. – “I simply told you; you could do better.” – he repeated. – “For example add another sailor.” – he said placing the paper down. – “Another sailor?” – you blinked confused as he tapped the paper with a smirk.

“That is wonderful… but we don’t have any more actors…unless you want me to search for one? Around this time it will be hard, not to give away they would have to catch up with weeks preparations.” – you told him, informing that it wasn’t a simple manner. – “I don’t need any new actors.” – he said, placing his palms onto the desk. – “You don’t?” – you replied, your eyes widening when he came leaning in. – “You’ll do it.” – he said making you gasp loud. – “Sir...” – you stuttered out flustered. – “I am a writer… not an actor.” – you reminded him. – “On the contrary, you are the perfect man to be on stage with me.”

Count Olaf moved his hand on top of yours, looking briefly down at it. – “You will be with me on stage, nothing to be frightful of.” – his touch made you swallow nervously. – “How… how will you fit him in the play then?” – you asked referring to your character. Count Olaf let his finger trail up your wrist to your arm. – “A lonely sea captain must have a companion.” – he said sparking up your interest. When his fingers were up your arm, he quickly snatched your tie pulling you forwards. – “Do you not agree Y/n?” – you nodded flustered at how close he was. – “I have very good notes to add to your play Sir.” – he grinned letting his gaze go from your eyes to your lips. You swallowed bashful at his approach. – “I look forward to your intel Sir.” – you responded seeing a smile curl up.

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