#tw. water sports
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rafe with a piss kink?!?
i just seen your bucky one😻😻
-💋
god you need to send me asks more often! i love all of the ones you send me🫶🏻 rafe would be soooo mean about it…
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your sat on rafe’s lap watching a movie together like you usually did on friday nights (since he didn’t approve of you going out without him and you didn’t want to spoil girls night by taking him with you) your back pressed against his bare chest and your legs intertwined as you sat on the couch, him only wearing a pair of boxers and you in your skimpy “pajamas” that he had chosen out for you.
you began to squirm around on his lap, your plump ass pressing into his cock as you clenched your thighs, desperately needing to go pee but not wanting to disturb rafe or miss a good part of the movie.
“quit squirming.” he mumbled, his hands moving to grip your hips, stilling your movement. you knew you shouldn’t have drank all that water earlier, rafe had warned you, you’d be up and down to the bathroom all night but you were so thirsty from your yoga class. so you downed around 3 glasses of water at once.
you whimpered quietly, the pressure on your bladder becoming too heavy for you to withstand. you attempted to get up, thinking if you didn’t mention it he wouldn’t question you. silently you shifted, moving away from his lap in an attempt to stand.
rafe was quick to tighten his grip on your hips, pulling your ass back down against his cock. a thick hand wrapped around, gripping your throat in a strong hold making you moan quietly.
“where do you think you’re going, hm?”
“r-rafe, let me go, i gotta’ go pee.”
“huh…” he sighed in false thought, a wicked smirk appearing on his clean shaven face. “nah i think you can hold it a little longer baby, just be quiet and watch the movie.” he thrusted his hips up gently against your pussy, his cock clearly hard, rubbing up and down your clothed cunt, his tip catching against your clit.
you whimpered yet again, clenching your thighs together quickly as you felt a dribble of liquid drip through your panties, soaking your shorts and leaking onto rafes cock. sighing at the slight relief you felt, praying he hadn’t noticed, your cheeks flustered due to your embarrassment. however you weren’t as lucky as you had hoped, nothing got past rafe. you should’ve known.
“fuck baby, you pissin’ on me now? filthy fuckin’ slut. do i need to do everything around here? including taking you to the damn bathroom?” he growled from behind you, his chest rumbling, acting as if he was mad. when in reality his cock had never been harder, so ready to burst out of his boxers and fuck you til’ you can’t breathe.
“i’m so sorry daddy, i didn’t mean to. i swear it was an accident.” you cried, tears streaming down your cheeks out of pure humiliation. you couldn’t hold back any longer, a steady stream of piss gushing out of your pussy, turning his boxers dark as you soaked his lap. crying and moaning at the sensation of finally being able to let go.
rafe groaned at the feeling of your hot piss soaking his cock, dry humping you roughly through your release.
“shh, it’s okay sweetheart, i know baby. your such a nasty little whore, pissing all over me, but its okay. daddy loves filthy girls like you, gettin’ me so hard. fuck.”
rafe pushed you off his lap and onto the floor, your knees hitting the hard surface making you whimper. he watched you with a dark grin as you looked up at him with a confused expression in your puppy dog eyes. “w-what are you doing?” you questioned. closing your eyes as he reached out, stroking the tears away from your cheeks with his thumb, shushing you gently.
suddenly your eyes burst open in shock as you felt a warm liquid begin to hit your chest, looking up to see rafe pointing his cock at your tits and face, his hot piss soaking your body in the most violating way possible. you sobbed as he marked you, confused as to why he was doing this.
“fuck that’s it, take my piss you filthy slut, is that what you are, yeah? you my dirty piss slut? soaking my cock then letting me mark you up. bet you fuckin’ love it. dirty girl, look at you, just writhing in my hot puddle of piss. who knew you were such a whore, baby.”
#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron#dark! rafe cameron#dark rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#tw: holding#tw piss#tw: water sports#chxrrys piss kink#💋 anon#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron prompt#chxrrys prompts
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Not really a request but more of a headcannon/thought!
Bucky is still discovering all the internet has to offer regarding ✨porn✨, and he comes across a video of a girl…letting go all over a guys lap and it’s all he can think about for like the next week until he finally works up the courage to ask you to try it
omg first one!! thank you! tw: piss kink and wetting below the cut. don’t read if it’s not your thing!
but okay no because you can tell there’s something on his mind the day he finally works up the courage to ask you. he’s fidgety and won’t quite meet your eyes, mumbling something about holding and wetting
and maybe it’s not something you’d considered before, but you agree anyway because he’s shy about it, and bucky has never been shy before when asking you to try something new.
you both have the day off, you’ve been holding almost all day at this point. but it’s only over the last few hours that he’s been giving you glass after glass of water.
“c’mon bucky, i gotta go,” you whine. he’s sitting on the couch and you’re on the floor between his knees, squirming and holding yourself to keep from leaking. it’s getting harder as the minutes pass, your bladder aches and you’re not sure if you’re wet because you enjoy it or because you’re not holding so well as you think.
he shushes you and combs his hand through your hair. “you can hold it sweetheart. here, be good and finish this glass.”
bucky hands you the half empty glass of water from the side table and watches as you drain it. you’re so full, you don’t think you could drink another glass even if you wanted to.
as soon as he takes the empty glass from you your hands are back between your legs, rubbing yourself over the pink panties he’d asked you to wear.
it’s not enough. you feel a leak and you press your legs together. “bucky i can’t- fuck! i’m leaking, i can’t hold much longer.”
your cheeks are burning. it’s embarrassing, humiliating, but you can’t bring yourself to hate it. not with the way bucky watches you with lust-blown eyes, or the way he licks his lips and bites them.
he slides down onto the floor with you and tugs you onto his lap, forcing you to spread your legs. you whine, feeling your control slipping further now that your legs aren’t crossed and your hands rest on his shoulders.
buckys hard, tenting his boxers and leaving no question as to how much he’s enjoying watching you squirm. you settle in his lap and you both moan as you start to grind over him.
he presses on your bladder and you leak again, more this time. “shit,” you hiss. “baby, i’m- you gotta let me go. i can’t hold it.”
bucky groans and grabs your hips, humping up into you. “c’mon honey. let go. i bet it’ll feel so good, finally releasing all over me.”
you look at him, but his eyes are glued to the dark pink wet spot on your panties. you didn’t expect him to be so bold with this, not when he’d been so shy to ask you. then again, bucky had never been shy in the bedroom.
another leak. a trickle, really, one that you can’t really stop this time. you groan and hide your face in his shoulder, embarrassed that you’re enjoying this so much. not that you have any reason to be, when bucky is moaning like he is.
his hand presses against your belly and this time you can’t stop it. there’s no leak, no trickle, it’s a full blown stream as you finally let go.
warm piss soaks your panties and his boxers, pooling on the hard floor around you and all you can do is moan. he was right, it does feel good.
“yeah, fuck, fuck,” bucky groans. his hips stutter up into yours and you’re boneless, letting him roll your hips over his like some ragdoll. “god i can’t believe you’re really pissing on me, shit!”
you whine in response. the stream doesn’t stop for what feels like forever until it finally trickles to a stop. he shoves his hand under your soaked panties to circle your clit and you cum with an intensity you didn’t know was possible.
bucky follows not long after you, fucking his dick up into the wet mess you made, pumping cum into his equally drenched boxers.
he kisses you, too sweetly for what the both of you just did. “that was so fucking hot, thank you baby.”
#hiding my face#don’t look at me#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#tw water sports#sparkle writes
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PLEASE ME TOO
Levi would neverrr let it happen but
please kind sir 🙏 let me hold it while you pee 😭
he can be whatever i want especially my wife and including getting shivery and excited by embracing him from behind and holding his cock while he pisses idc god it's so.....so hot......
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i’m on the verge of a mental breakdown i can feel it building like the cumulonimbus clouds before the storm
#tw mental health#ky’s talking to the ghosts again#the only thing i remember from 6th grade science#is clouds and rocks#it was a very fun time in my life#I found out clouds were fluffy and fun and full of water sometimes#and that i was actually unable to see far distances#I’d never known what leaves on a tree look like from a distance until that year#so I got glasses and also learned about clouds and rocks#the rocks were cool#my dad was more excited about it than me and I remember that as one of the first time he’s was excited about something abnormal#like i realized my dad had hobbies other than normal middle class dad hobbies like lawn care and sports#ya got those sedimentary rocks and the fact that I lived on a mountain meant lots of hikes to see big rocks#yeah#also those altostratus clouds mean snow#at least in theory#I’m not sure if that’s science theory or old wives tale theory
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me going off for six hours about big brothers
Me going off for 6 hours about which blorbo would let you pee on them
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"So because we're almost to the end of June, think we're going to have yet another Midsummer Misery?"
"We're already having one with this heat! We have no energy to be angsty and grumpy and reflect on centuries-old trauma when it's hot enough to fry eggs on the pavement."
"We're not even inland and the heat is unbearable!"
"I can only thwart off heat exhaustion so much if I am the one getting it...."
"Drink water! I am not dealing with everyone dying to the heat only to resurrect and die again in an instant! Do you have any idea how smelly corpses in the hot sun are?!"
#hi my name is Immy and I exist#we're still in another facility and oh god#it's an old house with poor ventilation and none of the ACs work#it gets hotter in the house than it is outside#and outside is still unberable#I had heat exhaustion yesterday so I've been doubling on water with sport drinks just so I don't feel faint#[IC based on OOC]#[Wang Ruixiong]#[Captain Josep Frascona]#[Giovanni Vespucci]#[Phoebus Duchamp]#death tw#body horror#comic violence tw
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So what if it was in the bathtub where doesn't matter if we make a mess
Why do I feel like you’re trying to manipulate me into a piss kink 💀 kinda joking here but… not really 😂
Anyway… I shall explain my neurosis so you understand. It is not about me making a mess like on the floor/where ever we are. It’s about feeling dirty and nasty and like I’m not clean (and that is not at all me saying that if you have a piss kink that you’re nasty and unclean/dirty) I’m just particular about sensations for myself.
I mean don’t know 100% that I wouldn’t have the kink cause I’ve never tried it and I’ve seen some things with it that haven’t bothered me to the point I’m like getting grossed out but I don’t really respond sexually to them either.
But if you wanna pee on me and then have a sobbing mess to deal with because it felt weird and now I feel nasty and my skin feels gross be my guest 💀
#asks#anon#tw water sports#like ahhh you have no idea how sensitive I am with touch/sensations#i literally get mad when people just brush against me#and it bothers me#so like ahhh#the feeling I KNOW would happen if there was pee on me just 😭😭😭😭
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Honestly can’t decide if blood piss or girlcum tastes better fjdhdjdhd
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౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s concepts 10/50
Character; Bucky Barnes
Kink; Piss Kink (i couldn’t help myself so i added pet play🙈)
Dialogue; “Look at the mess you made.”
Requested by; Anon (X)
As always, this blog contains 18+ content only, your media consumption is your own responsibility, all dark content will be labled as such. Please read at your own risk.
₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧
your throat flared in distress as your lips began to chap and crack, having been wrapped around bucky's cock for the past 30 minutes, it was fair to say they weren't in the best of shape.
you were knelt between his thick thighs, the hard floor, harsh on your sensitive skin as he worked at his desk above you. bucky had made you drink many glasses of water, more than double your daily amount. when you couldn't drink all of the glasses he had graciously gifted you with, he punished you.
claiming you were being ungrateful, that daddy was just trying to take care of you. you had promised you'd be a good girl for him if it meant getting out of a spanking, your ass still sore from last weeks punishment- one that he'd manipulated you into (as usual).
you squirmed, desperate to find some relief as your mouth warmed buckys cock, your bladder beginning to feel more full as time went on. noticing your discomfort, he slumped back against his chair, pushing his long brown locks behind his ear with one hand, his bicep flexing as he did so.
you whimpered, your tongue massaging the underneath of his length making him hiss with surprise as he growled
"i thought you said you were a good girl for me? i think you lied, pup. cause' im pretty sure if you were a good girl, you'd be warming my cock with no complaints like daddy asked you too, hm?"
he was quick to grab a fistful of your hair, pushing you deeper onto his cock as your thighs pressed together, desperate to make him proud.. and not wanting to embarass yourself by peeing all over his floor.
you looked up at him, your eyes pleading, tears streaming down your cheeks.. begging for even an ounce of sympathy. bucky sighed as he pulled you away from his cock, you were instantly opening and closing your mouth, swinging your jaw in circles as you tried to loosen up your locked jaw.
"go on, what's the problem with you now, puppy? what are those pretty tears for?"
"i really gotta' go daddy." you whispered, ashamed, your cheeks flustered in embarassment.
"go where, puppy?" he asked in return, a slight smirk on his face as he stroked your head gently, already knowing what the issue was.
"the bathroom, p-please daddy?"
"yeah? you gotta' go pee, sweetheart? you sure you can't hold it just a little longer for daddy?"
you shook your head desperately, your bladder already felt like it was about to burst, all of that water bucky had pressured you into drinking finally catching up to you, making you tense up in fear of leaking.
he sighed once more as he tutted in false disappointment "well alright then, go on puppy, go pee."
"oh thankyou, daddy! thankyou so much, i promise it won't happen again!" you gasped excitedly, seeming as your owner had been feeling generous... or so you thought.
you began to push of your knees in an attempt to stand when you felt bucky harshly pull you back down, this time sitting you on his thick thighs, straddling him. you looked up at him in alarm, eyes wide, wondering what you had done wrong.
your bladder suddenly feeling even heavier than before as you tried to prevent yourself from pissing out of fear, your thighs clenching tightly together. which didn’t go unnoticed by bucky as he spread your legs apart with both hands.
"where do you think your going?" he scolded.
"t-the bathroom.. y-you said i could go, daddy?"
"silly girl, puppy's don't use bathrooms now do they?"
you cocked your head, puzzled "i-i don't understand."
"of course you don't, dumb little girl, puppy's don't use the bathroom, if you need to pee so badly then do it, right here on daddys lap." he growled, his intense gaze sending shivers down your spine.
he reaches down, pressing his hand against your tummy, pushing down against your bladder as tears of humiliation roll down your flustered cheeks.
“d-daddy, i can’t hold it, i really gotta’ pee.”you squirm desperately, your pussy throbbing with pain, or maybe, pleasure?
"stupid puppy, you gonna' piss yourself, hm? gonna' piss all over daddys lap? shh, sweetheart. let go for me, let go for daddy."
you let out a loud sob as the ache between your thighs is suddenly relieved, before you can even understand what's happening a heavy flow of liquid gushes out of your pussy, soaking through buckys lap and onto his extremely hard cock- which he had apparently just taken out of his pants.
he groans in pleasure "oh baby.. fuck, that's it, you were just so full, huh? so desperate you just had to piss all over daddys dick, what a filthy little puppy, look at the fuckin' mess you made."
he smirks, thrusting his hips into your own, grinding his cock into your soaked pussy making you sob harder in confusion. your brain having not caught up to what just happened.
bucky is quick to pull up your skirt and push your panties to the side, sliding his thick cock inbetween your thighs and rubbing his swollen tip against your entrance.
he swiftly pulls you down by your hips, his mushroom head only just pushing past your walls making you let out a pathetic moan…before a smooth warmth begins to fill your cunt. at first your confused, knowing bucky never cums that quickly, until you look down and see a steady stream of piss leaking out of you.
“fuck… my dirty fuckin’ piss slut, letting her daddy piss inside her silly, baby cunt. you like that? you like being a disgusting, hot, mess for your daddy? filthy little pup.”
you sob into his shoulder, humiliated yet so turned on as his hot piss floods your pussy, running down your legs and dripping onto the floor.
bucky shushes you as he codles your head, rubbing his hands gently up and down your back, his stream still filling you with his warmth, trying desperately to keep his moans and whimpers to a minimum, so as not to let you know how much he's enjoying himself. your silly, puppy brain is too dumb and confused to notice anyway.
"shh, shh, it's okay puppy, daddy had an accident too, see? no need to cry about it, silly girl.” he consoles you, pushing your head back down into his shoulder when you try to move, not wanting you to notice the shit eating grin plastered across his face.
he has you right where he wants you, dumbed out and dependant on him to make you feel better... just like he always does... and just like you always are.
#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#sebastian stan smut#sebastian stan fic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes imagine#sebastian stan x you#bucky barnes x you#tw: holding#tw: water sports#tw piss#chxrrys piss kink#chxrrys concepts
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Someone requested a longer version of this post, so here it is! Tw wetting/watersports below cut!
For a while, you ignore your bladder. The slight discomfort is not worth getting up out of bed for. Not when you’re so comfortable, laying half on top of Bucky. You’re not sure you could walk anyway. Your legs still feel like jelly from how thoroughly Bucky fucked you.
Your bladder twinges uncomfortably, and you squirm where you’re laying on top of Bucky. He kisses the top of your head, fingers tracing lazy circles on your bare back.
The ache gets worse, a more persistent reminder of how full your bladder is. You shift to get up but Bucky won’t let you. He grumbles and pulls you back to his chest.
“Bucky, I gotta get up.” You try again to sit up but he refuses.
“In a minute,” he says. You sigh, trying to focus on anything other than your bladder, but it’s getting difficult.
The discomfort is distracting, and the position you’re in isn’t doing you any favors. You shift and try to move away from him but he still doesn’t let you. “I gotta pee, Buck. I’ll be right back, I promise.”
Bucky tightens his arms around you. “Go ahead. Pee. But I’m not letting you up.”
If you really wanted to, you know Bucky would let you up. But the thought of letting go here, on top of him, makes you throb between your legs. You bite back a moan. He’s half-hard against your thigh and if you weren’t so used to it, you’d be shocked that he’s already ready to go again.
“Tell daddy what you need,” he whispers. Bucky wants to hear you say it. You bite your lip. No matter how many times the two of you have done this, you still feel a twinge of humiliation.
When you don’t respond, Bucky says, “C’mon baby, don’t be shy.”
“I gotta pee, daddy. I gotta go so bad. Please let me up,” you whimper. Bucky lets out a small groan. He won’t let you up, of course, but that’s part of the game. He likes to hear you beg, to feel you slowly lose control. His hardening cock is evidence enough of that.
“Let go. I’m not stopping you.” You wiggle against him and he tightens his arms. A spurt escapes you, your bladder throbbing, and you whimper.
“Good girl, baby. I bet that felt good,” Bucky says. He dips a hand between your thighs to lightly circle your clit with his middle finger. Your hips stutter, rolling against him.
You moan. “It felt so good, daddy.” That brief lapse of control made your cunt pulse, the moment of relief making it that much harder to keep holding. You could keep holding if you wanted to but that isn’t what Bucky is after, and teasing him is always worth it.
“I can’t hold it anymore,” you whine. “You gotta move daddy, I’ll pee on you if you don’t.” You let out another spurt, this one longer and on purpose. Bucky curses and rubs your clit faster, the wet noise of your piss-soaked cunt, still covered in his cum and now your pee, and his hand fills the room.
“Fuck. Oh fuck. That’s okay baby.” He shifts so his erection is under you, his hard cock brushing against your folds. He jabs his hand into your bladder. Another leak, this time all over his dick. He sighs and his hips jerk up into you. “Daddy wants you to go.”
Your bladder aches and the urge to stop holding is getting stronger. A small trickle runs down your thigh and you squirm, remembering the last time Bucky made you hold in bed like this. He’d fucked you while you let go, the puddle of hot pee pooling on the waterproof blanket under you. The memory of it is enough for you to let out another spurt.
“Oh no, it’s coming out daddy!” You’re playing to up for his sake, letting more out. This time it doesn’t truly stop. His dick is hard against your folds, slowly thrusting against you as he circles your clit.
“Go on baby, make a mess for me. Be a good girl for daddy,” he says. His rubs your clit harder, watching the the slow trickle of pee run down your thighs.
Finally, you let go. Bucky gasps, stuttering out a breathy moan. Pee gushes out of you with a loud hiss, soaking Bucky’s dick and his hand, running down your thighs. You moan and close your eyes, head resting against his shoulder.
“Fuck you’re pissing all over me. That’s so hot baby.” His cock throbs, jumping against your cunt as he thrusts into the stream of piss. It’s hot and wet, and the way you’re moaning in his ear almost has him coming untouched.
Unable to help himself, he shoves his dick into you. You gasp, nails digging into his shoulders and he fucks up into you. He’s not small by any means, and each thrust into you makes piss spurt out of you.
“C’mon baby, keep soakin’ daddy’s dick. Holy fuck, you’re still going. Gonna cum, baby, gonna fill you up.”
Your stream trickles to a stop but he keeps up his brutal pace. You cum, cunt pulsing around him and Bucky groans. You can’t do anything but take it as he fucks up into you. His hips stutter and he pumps his cum into you. He keeps thrusting and his cum runs down your thighs, adding to the mess.
#i did not mean to get so carried away with this#anyway#i have so many ideas but i dont know if anyone will want to read them!!#or be into it!#maybe i’ll post them anyway#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#tw water sports#sparkle writes
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THOSE TAGS OMLLL
yesyesyes
levi the “neat freak” getting aroused from pissing himself??? yes pls
he’s so ashamed for liking it and that makes his state of utter humiliation even better. like the visible sheen of sweat and strands of his bangs plastered to his forehead, on top of the piss on his navel and all over his fuxking pelvis, it’s soaked the bed underneath (bc he was totally hard when it finally happened and you pinned his cock down to make him even more messy), mixed with sticky dried cum? streaks that reached as high as his pecs?? maybe lube or spit spread around his ass too. who knows…
i’d piss on him too. if he got off on that. (he does.)
#tw piss#tw piss kink#cw piss kink#cw piss#water sports#so sexy idc idc idc#kane has mail#levi.thirsts
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TW: NSFW, dubcon/noncon, slave darling, crude and derogatory terms, classism, abuse of power, death threats
fem reader
Thinking about the poor kitchen maid who's suddenly told she's to be the spoiled Prince's new chambermaid.
It hasn’t even gone a day yet, but you already miss your job in the kitchens.
Sure, the sweltering heat of the ovens always left you in a state of fever, and kneading dough from dawn ‘til dusk made your arms acidic with burns – unyieldingly sore – not to mention never getting a chance to sit down and rest before collapsing in bed at the end of the day. But the smell of freshly baked buns and the chance to sneak a bite out of those that came out of the oven just a bit too burnt for serving had always felt like payment enough.
That and not having to deal with the royal family.
You know you should feel honored. You know it’s supposed to feel godsend to be picked to become the Prince’s personal servant. But… there was a reason he so often required a change of maid.
You still remember the last one they’d taken from the kitchen. She was pretty and young and shouldn’t have been working there in the first place – that’s what everyone used to say before she disappeared.
You wonder if such words carry curses… and what you did to deserve the same things being said about you.
You nearly cried standing outside The Prince’s chambers, chewing on your lip with his breakfast tray in hand, wondering what rumors were true – if he really was as terrible as everyone claims – wondering where the other kitchen maid went and whether you’d end up in the same place… wondering what you could do to keep it from happening.
You don’t know what you were standing there waiting for, nearly pissing yourself when you knew he was still out – busy hunting down a couple of runaway servants for sport. It was almost as though you feared the room itself, as though it would bite once crossing the threshold.
None of the sorts happened, though a gust of warm wind hit you like the breath of a beast once you opened the door.
Inside, there were around a dozen heads mounted on the wall – dragons, bears, lions, wolves, and other creatures you weren’t too sure of – all with mouths big enough to bite yours off.
You took only a second to look at them before they looked as though they’d leap from the walls and eat you alive, just like you’d predicted.
You set the tray of food down on the bedside table and walked to the bathroom to draw his bath – deciding work would keep your mind off it.
Stepping out a second later, you fixed a fire in the hearth and made to make the bed, stretching the duvet and the quilt over the massive mattress while eyeing the thread count with envy and the hand-stitching with awe. Left to wonder how many ducks had been shot to stuff the mountain of plush pillows he’d all but thrown onto the floor to make space for himself.
Walking through the steam to the bath again, you opened the cupboard to pick out soaps and oils – overwhelmed by the sight of every shelf stocked full of all sorts you’d never seen – glad you had somewhat decent reading skills – unlike many of the other maids.
Soaping the water, you sat on the edge and waited with a hand wading through the warmth – and while biting your lip, you let your mind wander again – daydream, like it so often did – imagining what it would be like to feel it on the rest of your skin, warm and smooth, sucking all the stress out and leaving you soft like a newborn.
He watched you enjoy yourself, his stark eyes calmly assessing what they saw with a tilt of his head – trailing from the tip of your worn-out shoes to the tattered edge of your grey maid’s dress, up your lap to the cinch of your waist where your white apron was bound – taking his time until your eyes fluttered open to find him standing there.
You nearly fell into the water, hopping up to a stance. “Sorry, your majesty- I forgot myself! Please forgive me.” You bowed, looking down at the muddy stains on your gray shoes – in anxious wait of his wrath.
But instead of a backhanded slap that would send you straight to the stone floor or a spit of venom which would make you flinch and cry, he spoke a calm and patient “Come here-”
Though spoken in a certain tone of authority that forced you forward in quick steps until stopping just short of him – still with eyes downcast.
“Mh, I'm glad they haven't run out of cute ones down there.” He said then, once you stood only a hair's length from him – voice just as calm as before and inspiring just as much surprise in you still, though now joined with visible confusion in the crinkle it caused between your brows. A furrow that only deepened once he reached out his hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“Your majesty?” You questioned.
“It’s master.” He corrected sharply, and you grew unsure if his voice wasn’t just cold rather than calm. “I like that better. Now quit wasting my time and undress me, slave – I have important shit to attend to today.”
You wavered only a second, feeling the words like a flick to the forehead. “Of course, your majes- master. Forgive me.” You blurted with hands quickly jumping forth to help detangle the knots keeping his robes together.
Small fingers working hurriedly to appease him, setting aside the light leather cuirass upon his dresser once loosening it from his torso – wondering if you should tell him your name, though thinking better of it as he’d opted for simply referring to you as a slave instead of asking.
You hadn’t been called that in a long while – slave – never by anyone in the kitchen, at least. You’d nearly forgotten it was what you were – a slave – and not just a busy member of the crown’s staff.
You bit your lip with another bow of your head, not wanting the Prince to see your face in its hurt while you undid the ties to the braces on his arms. The castle had become your home rather than a prison over the years, but… with the echo of your title wringing in that very heavy tone of his, along with standing there – bowing your head while undressing him of all fine body armor and robes – you couldn’t suppress the reminder of being of much lesser blood and birth. A fact that – despite never before having bothered you much – somehow seemed to strangle you now.
He’d dragged mud in with his boots – and given he’d not bothered taking them off, you were left to believe he wanted you to do it for him. And though humiliating as it was, you crouched down and began undoing the laces nonetheless – further feeling degraded while caressing the boot.
You pulled it off and repeated the action with the other foot – wondering if he meant you to remove his breeches and tunic as well until he, fortunately for you, lifted the shirt off and pulled the strings to the trousers himself. Leaving the undergarments in a pool on the floor next to you.
You kept your eyes down until he was completely submerged in the water, afraid to see something you weren’t allowed to – before getting up and padding back to the cupboard. You'd never been any lady's or lord's maid before, but you had been trained in the duties – and though heat rose to your cheeks at the thought of those duties, you still made to grab the soap and loofa in shakey hands before kneeling down on the stool next to the tub.
You’d never seen the prince if not from afar atop the castle balcony during speeches by his mother, the Queen – and had only ever heard of his appearance as something twisted and foul – but looking at him with his eyes closed, he really didn’t look as demonic as people had made him out to be. But further thinking about it, scrubbing his chest with soap and water and oil – you realized that none of those people were likely to have seen him up close either.
He looks every bit royal with his strength of face – cutting edges as though carved in marble, with chiseled muscles gleaming in the water and oil.
He was no doubt very handsome, you concluded silently – finally understanding why he was more of an eligible prince than what his attitude would otherwise allow – that, along with the kingdom’s riches, of course.
He sagged forward while you mindlessly amused your findings – though paying attention enough to take the cue – squeezing water onto his back with the sponge before rubbing over the broad flex of muscles, freezing once hearing him let out a heavy moan.
He leaned back again after you were done. Spilling water onto your dress once pulling his arms out to rest on the frame with a sigh – his chin tipped upward, lounging lazily on the back of the tub.
You reached for his face next – now with a silken cloth – stroking it lightly over the few droplets of blood splattered from when he must have cut into those poor runaways after hunting them down with swords and dogs in heel.
You shuddered some at the thought and must have let your eyes linger too long – or at least long enough not to notice him opening his – staring at you silently with eyes jaded in something that seemed to seize you by the throat.
“I’m sorry, ma-” You tried, but he seemed disinterested in it, reaching for you with wet fingers rubbing on the hem of your collar.
“You’re not dressed properly.” He said then, voice lazy yet loud – unimpressed, though not enough to be outright angry.
Gulping at the feel of his large hand so close to your neck, your voice only barely held it together. “I’m sorry, master. They hadn’t the right maid livery in my size, but I’ll have it ready tomo-” You started, hands folded neatly on your lap.
“Take it off.” He interrupted.
You blinked – tensing with your throat closing – sitting there stunned for a moment before mustering an ever so hesitant answer.
“Your majesty?”
“It’s master. Don’t make me tell you again, slave." He growled through grit teeth right at your face after yanking you close by the fabric of your shirt. "And you either dress properly, or you go naked. And right now, it looks like it’ll be the latter. Unless you want to be whipped for poor servitude?”
Your eyes – moon-big now while you shook your head – breathing thin through your nose. “No, master... I’ll undress.”
“Good.” He broke off your collar, dropping you back down onto your seat on the floor before rising with water rushing fast and heavy down along his limbs, dripping onto you as he stepped out with an unfettered splash.
You got up as well, beginning with the buttons on your shirt. Feeling him eye you while he wrapped himself in the towel you’d laid ready for him – his burning gaze leaving you goosefleshed and nearly in tears, bashful as you stepped out of your skirt – naked before him.
You didn’t dare look – even as he stepped toward you. Keeping your head bowed low – breath in shivers while eyeing the hand he reached for you, his fingers stopping just short of touching your bare skin.
“Clean yourself.” He said then, wafting the same hand to the tub he’d just used. Still filled with bubbles of lavender, though no doubt also of his own grime. But you wouldn’t refuse, no matter the degradation – your thoughts still lingering on the former kitchenmaid who’d disappeared not long after becoming the Prince's personal servant.
You stepped in, feeling the warmth close around your legs – still hot enough to prickle. Lowering yourself down, you sat there – swallowed by the bubbles with the loofa in hand, lathering your flesh with the mix of oil, soap, and water – brushing off soot and sweat – leaving you soft-skinned and smooth to the touch, but also riddled with goosebumps that wouldn't lower under the heavy leer the Prince was giving you.
“Get out and come here.” He said a short moment later, and you got out as told – taking slow steps toward the man, with footprints leaving soapy puddles in their wake.
He reached behind you to pull the pin from your worker's bun, letting your hair cascade in flowy wisps down around your shoulders – before brushing them behind you to clear your face and chest.
He’d dried off but didn’t offer you the towel – having dropped it into a wet pile on the floor – now reaching out to feel the smooth gloss of your breasts with brazen digits. Inspecting and assessing while caressing their weight as you stood there with your head still hung down low – silent and shivering.
Soon his hands fell from your chest down to judge your every curve, sliding over slippery slopes until reaching your cunt – stroking two thick fingers through the drippy curls found there. Gliding them between the lips, he circled your clit with his middle digit – tickling you – while dark eyes watched your lip quiver with a power-hungry gleam.
Stepping closer, the small smirk stretched on his face brushed your hairline where you tried bowing your head even lower in embarrassment – with brows tremoring similar to the hands hanging loosely by your sides.
“Aren’t you gonna bleat like a little lamb? Hmm... slave?” He asked then – low in a whisper, blowing gently into the sweat of your hair – cold enough to make you shiver even more. “The slut before you did….” He added with his smirk sharpening – lips stiffening against your skin where he brushed them in halfhearted kisses down your forehead and temple until reaching the shell of your ear. “I had to wring her little neck just to make her stop squealing.”
You sucked your teeth on impulse, jolting just a bit but not enough to make the dire mistake of moving.
“I can tell you’re smarter. That’s good….” He continued with fingers kept at your cunt – playing your shivering core where you stood planted – dripping wet with bathwater and terrified of moving. “Weak little things like you do better understanding their place.”
Your hands formed loose fists, flinching at your sides as you kept from the urge to wring your thighs shut until he left your sensitivity alone.
“But smart or not, I believe you missed a spot earlier-” Both his hands found your hair instead. “So get down on your knees, slave.”
One paw cupped the back of your skull in a ponytail while the other laid flat on your scalp, pushing you down until he had you leveled with his throbbing manhood – thick and high-strung – blushed red and strangled with veins – bobbing with might against the ant trail leading up to his navel and looking every bit impatient to be served.
“Use this pretty head of yours to do better, and maybe I won't have to wring your little neck too.”
You eyed the swaying length with eyes crossing – sucking your lip at its intimidating reach and how it seemed to rise higher than your head – mumbling out a weak. “Yes, master...”
You dropped your jaw and produced your tongue – feeling him keep control of your head in his tightening hold, yanking your hair before you gave the large cock a flat lick – starting at the base of his balls until flicking off at the very tip.
Not too revolted by the mild taste of lavender and vegetable oil, you locked your lips around the head and sucked it in hopes he’d ease his grip.
“Sh-fuuhck- you really do know your place, huh slave?” He mouthed – his head hanging back in a heavy groan – holding your skull in both hands while using them to bob you against his crotch on repeat, lolling his hips inside the wet warm comfort of your mouth a little deeper for each time – only moaning with a laugh once you gave a whine for breath. “Sweet and obedient- just how I like- with a nice wet throat to fuck too….”
He thought of kicking you when you put your small hands against his thighs to brace yourself – but given how softly you held them there without nails and pinches, he decided he’d grant you the tiny mercy – thinking he’d later teach you to keep your hands on your knees when serving him head like a proper slave ought to.
Tipping his head back again, he looked down at you and the pretty curl between your brows and the cute sight of your teary eyes looking back up at him – giving a hiss at how it made his balls tug in excitement.
“Get up-” He growled, pulling you up by your hair and throat until you shoddily stood upright on unsteady feet – lightheadedly looking at him with dazed eyes and a wet pout. “’This tight cunt as loyal to the crown as your mouth, hm?” He asked with a hand smacking the soft place, making you yelp before he made to bury two of his thick fingers inside the taunt space.
You whined out softly at the intrusion – kept steady and close by the fist holding your throat in a choke – before he used the same hand to throw you over the bed – stomach first with a slap to your ass.
“Bow down, slave- and show me some fucking respect. You’re in the presence of royalty, remember?”
He mounted you with a pent-up groan – and a strong fist in your hair, pushing your face down into the mount of pillows you’d dallied with earlier. His knees dipped into the plush next to your hips, locking you beneath him with his spit-slickened meat resting between the soft valley of your ass, sliding between the cheeks impatiently.
Gathering your wrists in his other fist, he kept them crossed at the small of your spine – before pulling back and letting his cockhead fall right to your sweetly wet and welcoming opening – wasting little time in piercing it nice and deep in a direct aim – like an arrow shot straight through a target.
You winced and bucked your hips at the attack – feeling your walls weep and sting – fluttering hot around the size of it.
He leaned across your back – heavy against your shoulders with his mouth at your ear in gritty whispers. “I like docile slave girls like you who know a thing or two about pleasing a man. Good submissive sluts who understand they’re nothing but warm soft meat for men like me to devour.”
His words groaned in nibbling bites on your earlobe – with a hand kept strict and harsh in yanking your head back for him as he slowly started dragging himself out and stuffing you so fast you couldn’t keep from yelping at the breach. Toes gripping the cold rocky tiles as your legs shook under you – being rocked into harsh and deep by the muscle strength of the beast on top.
“I'm not the first one you’ve bent over for, huh?” He continued with a grin, haughtily chuckling in low breathy condescension. “Probably the first one you’ve had take you in a proper bed, though, hm? And not in a hayloft on whatever dirty farm you grew up on.”
Your fingernails punched into your palms where he wrung your wrists tight, keeping you pressed flat beneath him while he heedlessly rutted into you like you were nothing but his own snug fist.
“I bet the whole village had a go seeing how pretty you turned out.” He laughed again, scoffing at it with his tongue tickling your ear. “Did they all fuck you like this? From behind like a farm animal? On all fours with your pretty face moaning in the mud?” Simpering, he sped up as though aroused by his own words.
Twisting your hair tighter and groaning louder against your ear – chasing your deepest parts with balls clapping hard against your clit.
“You’re all fuckin' inbreds- It’s a fucking miracle your filthy parents created something like you- prettier than all the bratty princesses I have to listen to yap all day.” He moaned – now fully drooling against your face, nomming on your ear with heavy breaths.
Fully draping you in his sweaty muscles, you lay gasping beneath the weight – cunt clenching hard around his shaft – making him hiss.
“Ah fuck- It's nice coming home to an obedient slave- so tight and warm- grateful for a royal cock in your poor slave cunt, huh?”
You winced at his pounding, so deep you felt it choke you – making your stomach fold and curl, trying to protect itself from the assault. “Yes- thank you, master- thank you-” You cried while he placed sloppy layers of wet kisses down your temple and cheek in return – until finally pulling off.
“Come here, down on your knees-” Ripping himself to his feet, he pulled you with him by the fist riddled in your hair and pushed you down at the foot end.
Tugging on his cock in the other hand – quick faps in the slick – he kept you looking up at him while slapping the wet weight in sticky taps against your lips.
“Open wide, slave- here it comes-”
Only one more jerk and it all blew in thick white beams shooting across your face – spewing in clusters, hitting you once on your forehead and another over the nose - dripping to your lips into your gaping mouth where he focused on squeezing out the rest – tapping the plush creamy tip against your tongue while panting.
“Mh-fuck- clean me off and swallow.”
With breaths heavy and slowing, he detangled his hand from your sweaty locks and made to pet your head instead. Gently running his fingers over your hair while watching you obediently kiss and lick up all the spill in tired and slow yet devoted strokes with your tongue until it was all prettily wiped clean.
“Good slave.” The Crown Prince hummed then.
Finally sounding satisfied – still with a lazy hand holding your head where you so faithfully sat at his feet, swallowing his seed, while his satiated cock grew limp in regard.
“Now go wash off while the water’s still warm, and come out and help me get dressed.” He ordered, voice groggily soft in the after high. “I have a full schedule today looking at potential brides… and I want my little farm animal by my side to keep me going insane from boredom.”
BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi
JJK – Sukuna, Gojo, Naoya
HQ – Oikawa, Sakusa
BLLK – Reo
DS – Doma, Muzan, Sanemi
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere smut#yancore#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jjk smut#bnha smut#yandere bnha#mha smut#my hero smut#yandere csm#yandere aot
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— in which they slowly find themselves enamored by the natural charms of their interviewer
feat. itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, itoshi sae
cw + tw. nothing much just fluff, fem!reader, interviewer/reporter!reader, aged-up!characters, characters are professional athletes and continue playing in their teams from the neo egoist league (except sae)
notes. first time posting blue lock so apologies if anyone’s ooc, either way i might make a follow-up of this (that might be more uh ya know) and/or add characters
ITOSHI RIN
the sound that follows the harsh slam of his locker is a frustrating sigh that has been simmering in rin’s chest since the end of today’s match. the match in which he had lost—and at the hands of isagi’s team which makes the defeat all the more bitter and disgusting on his tongue. it didn’t help that during the game, he was butting heads with his supposed teammate, shidou. once the coach had decided to sub the eccentric player in, their styles began mixing like oil and water. as a result, their win was swooped up from under them.
pxg has been called to host a post-sport interview to review the match with reporters, but rin couldn’t care less to participate. instead, he’s the very last person to leave the locker rooms. his duffle bag is slung over his shoulder, steps ambling down the hallway.
whether he wins or loses, rin never bothers to attend these post-game interviews. he doesn’t need to sit there and have brash reporters shoot the same questions at him, expecting him to “thank his coach and teammates,” “praise his opponents for a great game today,” and say he’ll “continue to work hard to win next time.” gross. he’d rather be caught dead than have any of those words leave his mouth.
as rin navigates through the hallways of the stadium, he’s hoping to be done with the day and think over the turn of events on his own. but when he rounds the corner, he crosses eyes with someone so obviously lost in the facility—a mistake which punishes him as you immediately approach him with doe, bewildered eyes.
“sorry, i don’t mean to bother you, but i was wondering where the conference for pxg was being held,” you ask. a pad of notes are cradled in your arms, pen clipped to the breast pocket of your blazer. it’s clear you’re another reporter.
before he can point you in the right direction to get you out of his hair, you squint. you’re taking a long, hard look at him until your face suddenly glows. “wait, you’re itoshi rin, the striker for pxg!” you practically blurt. with the volume of your voice, rin’s instincts take hold, and he’s pulling you away from the open space of the hallway.
“quiet. you want everyone to hear?” rin chastises.
“whoops. i got a little excited! i-i’ve been wanting to interview pxg’s top player and well…” you could say the opportunity presented itself, but rin makes it clear he’s not interested.
“if you’re here just to hear me mope over my loss, then go home,” the striker affirms to what he thinks will be the last of this exchange until you tug on the sleeve of his jersey before he starts walking away. turning his head back to glance at you, his brow quirks.
“no, of course not! i thought it was incredible how you were able to keep control of the ball from your opponents and even score the first two points of the game all by yourself!” you exclaim, face lifting as it’s teeming with admiration. surprisingly, he can’t help but be a bit amused by the determined expression etched over the perplexed look that was originally on your features.
you swipe your pen hanging off your pocket, prompting it open with a click of your thumb. “and i’m sure a lot of your fans would love to hear from you!”
the athlete cocks his head. “you’re acting like a fan yourself, miss reporter.”
you blink in surprise. the enthusiasm in your words tones down, but you fail to mask it completely. “what? no, i’m just here to get the exclusive on the best athletes of our country!” if your plan is to butter him up to get a word out of him, it may almost work. you send him another fawning look as if to say “can you blame me though?” and that stirs a low chuckle from his throat.
his face lowers until it’s slightly more leveled with your own, and from this angle, you’re amazed to find you can distinguish every distinct eyelash on his pretty face. and you’re even more enamored by the intense color of his teal eyes. at the proximity, however, your face bathes in the heat of the blood rushing to your cheeks. thankfully, the striker breaks eye contact in favor of taking the notepad from your arms, along with your pen which he uses to scribble something down.
“tell you what,” he says as he continues writing, “come to the next pxg match and i’ll give you an exclusive interview, right after i score at least four goals and decimate the other team.”
his declaration leaves you in awe, and your fascination persists when he hands your pen and pad back for you to see a ten digit number, followed by call my manager written next to it.
NAGI SEISHIRO
back when he was in school, nagi was never great at first impressions. and apparently that’s still the case even later on in his career as a professional striker.
he doesn’t even notice you enter the room as he’s preoccupied with tapping the controls for the first person shooter on his phone. as such, he’s woefully unprepared to hear the reluctant, but soft voice that vies for his attention.
“um, excuse me. if you don’t mind, i’d like to get started with the interview.”
taking a slow glimpse above his screen, he sees the refreshing sight of you—his interviewer—sitting across from him in your neat attire and a clipboard on your lap. surprised by the modest smile that greets him, he automatically straightens up and casts his phone to the side.
it’s a big contrast to what he was expecting. usually, scruffy men who claim they’re adept and knowledgeable in the sport would be shoving their mics in his face. when in reality those people are just washed up high school coaches or analysts who act all high and mighty by asking a bunch of nonsense questions. saying this and that about how they would have done it differently had they been in the game instead of him. regardless, they’re such a pain and nagi would rather be napping in his cloud mattress than go through another talk session with those wannabes. however, his encounter with you just might break this boring streak.
he rubs the back of his head sheepishly, playing off the crass first impression. “right. start whenever you want.”
once he gives you the go ahead, you flip through a few pages to your questions.
as time goes on, the sentiment nagi initially held about how the interview might have been a pain and a waste of his time in his already packed schedule begins to sway. throughout the inquiries, he finds himself fixated on you. like the flattering nude color touched up on your plush lips. or how you have a habit of playing with strands of your hair when contemplating on what question to ask next. or the cute laugh you let out that was pleasant to his ears when he gave a much more aloof answer than you were expecting.
well, he can’t change the fact that he doesn’t need to think much when it comes to football. that’s just how naturally talented he is—the sport is second nature to him. honestly, he’s a bit bummed out that he can’t give a competent interviewer like you better responses.
what catches the snowy haired striker slightly off-guard is your next topic of questions about his e-sport endorsements. he wasn’t expecting you to delve into his hobbies. most interviews always glossed over that area in favor of asking something along the lines of “what was going through your head when you made that winning goal,” to which he could only say he was too caught up in the moment to really convey the feelings into words.
but with this opportunity, nagi goes on a mild tangent about the new first person shooter he’s been playing. even if his tone sounds indifferent on the surface, you don’t miss the hidden enthusiasm under the brighter twinkle of his eyes. you giggle which makes nagi pause.
“did i say something weird?” he asks back. you swear you detect a tonal whine in his voice, another endearing trait you didn’t know a 190 cm striker could possess.
“no.. just find it cute how much you can talk about your favorite games like that.”
nagi can’t tell whether the grin on your pretty lips is there to tease him or that you find his boyish charms endearing. either way, his cheeks puff and that only serves to make him more adorable in your eyes.
“well don’t let me stop you! i’d like to hear more about what things interest you other than soccer.” the look on your face fascinates him. you’re not even looking at your clipboard anymore, but right at him. it’s the tell-tale sign of someone who genuinely wants to know him not as the star player of manshine city, but just as regular nagi seishiro. he’s not used to that sort of treatment and as a result, he can’t meet your eyes, not realizing he flushes a lovely shade of pink that reaches the tips of his ears.
nagi pouts, glancing down at his phone that’s been laying near his thigh, untouched for a record of what must be ages, but that honestly doesn’t feel long enough to him. “no fair… you’re just teasing me…” he murmurs, but his fingers are already itching to ask his manager if he can extend the interview to spend more time with you.
ITOSHI SAE
the first opportunity you get to interview the itoshi sae is unconventional, to say the least.
“excuse me! please let me through–!”
“miss, you can’t be here– hey!”
the setting is chaotic, to the point where sae can make out the commotion in the background as he’s walking toward his rest area with his manager and bodyguard following beside him. when he glimpses at what all the fuss is about, he witnesses security personnel wrangle with a stray reporter.
spotting the reddish haired athlete, you find an opportunity to call out to him. “itoshi sae, please, may i have a word with you?”
to your dismay, security persistently blocks your view of the midfielder. despite being obstructed by a pair of burly men almost twice your size, you give them more of a struggle as you thrash around, even reprimanding them to “keep their hands to themselves if they know what’s good for them.” sae can’t help but be amused. a part of him finds your efforts admirable—watching you scrunch up your uniform and crease your notes at just a chance to speak with him.
“mister itoshi is far too busy to entertain any more of you today. please make your way to the exit–”
“it’s fine,” sae interjects to everyone’s surprise—mostly to the utter astonishment of you and his manager. the latter’s eyes widen scrupulously before he cups his hand next to the pro athlete’s ear.
“sir, i believe we’ll be running late to your next scheduled event if you decide to do a last minute interview,” the manager warns warily. “besides, haven’t you talked to enough of the media today? i mean look at her, she doesn’t even seem worth your time–”
“push everything back thirty minutes if you have to.”
his manager gawks. “but..?!”
one side-eye of sae’s piercing ocean eyes is enough for the man to retract his statement and mumble his apologies. that said and done, the security guards withdraw to let you through. you’re astonished by how much the situation can flip with the cooperation of a renown professional.
sae’s staff lead you into his spacious break room, preparing a set of chairs and leaving glasses of water on the coffee table before you start. having already taken his seat, he watches you run your hands through the wrinkled material of your blouse and pencil skirt. after finally fixing your stray hairs in place, you sit in front of him in all your pristine as if the whole conflict from earlier never happened. he wants to give you another point for professionalism.
“once again, thank you so much for granting me the opportunity to speak to you today,” you beam, mocking his manager hovering in the background with your unbeknownst-to-sae sly little smile.
sae grins, charmed. you arrange your notes one last time before moving onto your questions.
during the interview, sae comes to know your professionalism isn’t merely for show. you’ve done your research, analyzed his plays—his techniques, and as a result, ask him the most intriguing inquiries he’s sure no reporters asked him before. and he’s had his fair share of interviews throughout his developing career as a child prodigy. it’s evident you weren’t planning to waste his time and he’s appreciative of that fact.
there’s also an air of zeal you possess that allures him. he can’t exactly pinpoint what it is. your ingenuity? your liveliness? either way, he can’t imagine this to be his last interaction with you, and he makes sure that won’t be the case.
at just a simple snap of his finger, his manager is at his side. you have to hold in a snicker at how the man scurries over to the midfielder like a dog.
the two exchange a few words you don’t catch, only deciphering the dumbfounded look on the manager’s face which clashes with the stoic expression on sae’s. whatever the conversation was about, the former knows it’s a losing battle. at his loss, he pulls out a lanyard from the compartment attached to his clipboard. he gives it to sae, who takes it and leans across the space between you two to place it in your awaiting hands, as if you already knew from the manager’s defeated mannerisms that it was meant to be yours.
“this is..?” you begin inquiring as you eye the card on the lanyard methodically.
sae beats you to your discovery of that answer. “an exclusive press pass, which you can use to reach out to me again following any matches i’ve played in.”
mouth hanging open, you switch back and forth between the pass and sae’s marine eyes which don’t hold a shred of doubt.
he puts it simply.
“i’d like to continue this interview with you again.”
copyright 2023 shotoh, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated anywhere else so please do not repost this or share my content on tiktok.
#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#bllk imagines#rin x reader#sae x reader#nagi x reader#blue lock fluff#bllk fluff#rin fluff#rin itoshi x reader#blue lock x you#nagi fluff#sae fluff#blue lock headcanons#sae itoshi x reader#nagi seishiro x reader
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Just say the word (Max Verstappen)
A secret relationship is hard enough to deal with when you don't have people constantly shipping your boyfriend with someone else
Note: english is not my first language. This is the first time I'm writing athlete!reader, so I thought about the sports I know better and swimming seemed fitting for what I wanted!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: secret relationship
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
"You're alone today, Y/N?", one of the other girls, Ella, asked as you retrieved your waterproof workout plan sheet from the folder.
"I'm going away tomorrow and I won't be back until Monday morning, so I squeezed in my Saturday session now; Carol is coaching with the younger group today later", you explained the fact that you were at the pool without your coach.
At first, swimming was an after school activity since your parents worked long hours and they needed you to be occupied and somewhere with someone looking after you, but as you grew older, your passion for the activity became more serious. Combined with your natural skill and hard work - and, truth be told, a dust of luck from deep pocket sponsors - you were able to become a full time swimmer. Tokyo 2020 Olympics was the proudest moment of your career as you stepped on the podium next to two of the people you looked up to the most, wondering if you were ever going to stand in the top step and hear your national anthem play. Baby steps - Carol told you immediately - this is already a huge achievement, Y/N!
"Do you want to stretch together?", Ella wondered, throwing a foam roller for you to catch once you nodded and getting one for herself.
"Where are you off to this weekend?", she asked curiously. You were playing a risky game, you knew that much, going away only on weekends and travelling to countries where, coincidentally, the Formula One Grand Prix was being held.
Luckily for you, no one seemed to make the connection as the last two years you managed to keep your relationship a secret. You first met Max in a sponsor party at the beggining of your professional career when you needed to up your earnings as the costs of travelling to competitions was getting higher and heavier on your savings. It fell through, but other sponsors came your way and you and Max started hanging out after it. The Dutch driver was funny and charming and after winning your first Olympic medal, you felt unstoppable and confessed your feelings for him. When he admitted he felt the same for you, you went from there on. At first, the decision to keep it secret was both strategic, as Max didn't want you to miss out on any sponsorships or teams backing you because you were in a relationship with him, and personal as he didn't want the world's prying eyes on your relationship.
Two years later, you felt like there had never been a right time to do it so things stayed the way they were, and most of the time, you didn't mind it.
"Austria", you kept the city to yourself as you worked on your hips as they were still tight from yesterday.
"Didn't you go there last year?", she quirked an eyebrow.
"Last year, I had more of a city break weekend, this time around I'm going for a nature approach, you know? No phones, no Internet, digital detox and all of that", you offered, doubling up the excuse so she wouldn't expect to see and Instagram stories or posts from your weekend away.
"Sounds nice! It can really get in your head when you're too long on them - I have a timer on my phone because otherwise I won't even notice the amount of time I spend on social media", she smiled before silently asking if she could take the foam rollers back to their box.
Getting yourself on the water and used to the temperature, you started with your usual warm up routine before following the plan you stuck to the platform.
On some days, the session felt quick, before you knew, the other athletes were already stretching and getting prepped for their own session. Today, it seemed like it would never end, as you looked at the clock and only fifteen minutes had gone by since the last time you checked it. At least your times were improving, you thought, drinking some water before going back to practice your butterfly stroke as dictated by the workout sheet.
It was already evening time when you sat down on your bedroom floor, packing everything you had laid out to take on your trip with you when your phone rang.
"Hey, liefje", Max said as his face showed up on your screen, "how was your day?".
"Good. Had training in the morning, then a physio session because my hips kept hurting, and I found some time to buy a replacement for my moisturiser before I came home to have dinner and pack", you showed him the suitcase, "and you? The car seems good, a nice gap to the others as well", you mused.
"The same old Friday, really. Woke up, came to the track, a little debrief with Alice and then we headed to the track. Only tomorrow will tell, but I'm confident on the pole", he smiled, "can't wait to have you here with me and see your gorgeous face up close".
"You can see it now", you ridiculed as you rested your chin on your phone and looked into the camera so Max could have an interesting angle of your features, "beautiful, am I right?", you joked.
"The most beautiful", he complimented, "are you nearly done packing?", he wondered.
"Yes, just my charger and a few other last minute things left - I'll put them in my backpack tomorrow morning", you reasoned.
"You better get to sleep, your flight is early", your boyfriend encouraged, "I really need it - a proper shower first and then I'll go to bed", you assured, "I love you, Max, see you tomorrow", you blew him a kiss.
"I love you too, gorgeous! Text me updates from your flight, okay?", he smiled, smooching his lips for you to see before you ended the videocall.
The shower helped you unwind for the night, a little list on your kitchen counter to remember you of the last minute things as you turned off the lights and got back to your bedroom, your bed waiting for you so you could sleep a decent amount of hours.
Sitting on the waiting area of the airport, you placed your backpack on your legs and rested your elbows there, grabbing your phone to scroll through social media.
Ella was right, people did spend too much time on these. Everyone around you seemed to be on their phone or tablet devices.
A photo of your boyfriend showed up in your explore page, a fan page showing his walking back to the garage after FP1 and Alice was trailing right beside him.
Scrolling through the carrousel of pictures, you found a small video of them laughing together about something. The comments under it were the same as usual.
No one can convince me they're not together!😌 (to be read as I know I'm delulu)
If they're not, I'll volunteer to show them how good they would be for eachother! 🫣
Such a power couple 😮💨🥵
When they finally knock some sense into eachother's head and realise they're meant to be together, I'm claiming them as my parents! 🥹
No matter how many times you saw it, it never got easier. For all everyone knew, Max was single, so they weren't acting as a disregard of you. They didn't knew a regard of you to begin with. So they took interest in his love life and hoped he was in a relationship with some of the women he interacted with. Max usually didn't let many of them start to begin with, but Alice worked for the team, he could only get so far away and be distanced from her.
Max wouldn't cheat on you, you knew that. But the comments made you wonder. Would he be better off with someone else? Someone who could follow him anywhere?
The thoughts often plagued your mind, and they hadn't yet turned to the your other insecurities, so you had to be thankful for that.
Boarding on the plane, you played some music on your earbuds as you fished out your kindle to continue reading the book you started at the beggining of the week.
The buzz was installed on track as you found your spot in the stands just in time to see the marshalls tidying up whatever was left on the concrete so qualifying could start without a hitch.
This was usually how you did it. On Saturday, you would watch qualifying from the stands, waiting a little in the fan zone before Max whisked you into the hospitality with Gianpiero's help. On Sunday, you either stayed on the stands and repeated the same procedure or you arrived early to the track and stayed in his driver's room so to not lift any suspicions. You had been invited to watch a few races with the Paddock Club pass with some of the other Olympic athletes, but it hadn't happened in a while.
To anyone, you were a regular fan. You had your RedBull cap on and sunglasses, and you had never been recognised in one of the races, so you felt calm. The tricky bit of keeping your relationship hidden from the public eye was going to be later, for now, you could just wait and appreciate the fast laps.
"I'm sorry, you're Y/N Y/L/N, right?", a girl in a Ferrari cap called your name. Crap.
"Hi, I am", you smiled, "I'm sorry to ambush you like this - I am a big fan and you're a big inspiration to me. I also swim", she reasoned as she fumbled with her phone, "do you mind if my father takes a picture of us?", she politely asked.
"That's okay, yes", you smiled, taking off your sunglasses briefly as the older man snapped a picture before he shook your hand, "she won't shut up about your achievements! Did you tell Ms. Y/L/N that you're going to be in the qualifiers for Paris?".
"It's Y/N, please", you requested, "That's fantastic, congratulations! I hope it all works out for you and I'll see you around there!", you hugged her quickly before she thanked you and found their seats.
She seemed nice enough and it wasn't like you were a public figure, at least to the general public anyway really, so between all of the people who could've spotted you, she was fine.
"C'mon Max!", you yelled as he and Charles seemed to be separated by a few tenths of a second, cheering loudly when the times were set and your boyfriend got the pole position.
The timing was perfect as Max took a little longer than expected on his interviews, fans scattering to the fanzone and track experiences while you spotted Max's engineer, walking with him when no one seemed to be paying attention to it.
"I'll tell Max you're already here", he smiled before he closed the door of the driver's room.
It always felt a little odd. Like you were doing something forbidden and illegal by being there.
"Yes, we'll meet in a bit", Max told whoever was in the corridor after he opened the door, closing it back when you jumped on him, legs wrapping around his waist, "hey, pole sitter", you smirked, nuzzling your face on his neck and kissing the soft skin.
"Hello, liefje", he mumbled against your skin before you pulled away, "kiss?", you asked for his lips to settle on yours for a bit, filling up on eachother's presence.
"No one saw you come here?", he asked. You shook your head, "everybody was paying attention to other things, the only people I encountered already know so we're safe", you stated.
Max noticed the change of tone, but you wouldn't have time to properly discuss it so he let it slide for now, telling you instead about the session and how the car felt, as well as the dinner plans her had for you since the room service menu was "so varied we could make our own little buffet".
You stayed in the room while he had the debrief, leaving together when you made sure no one would see you two.
"Room service called back, they said they'll bring the food in ten minutes", Max said as you got out of the bathroom, dressed in pyjamas and fresh out of the shower, "That's good, I'm starving", you smiled as you sat down.
Max always received the food at the door to ensure no prying eyes would see something he didn't want, along with other precautions like packing up all your things in case someone from housekeeping enjoyed the gossip and took the rumours somewhere else.
"I know something is bothering you", Max began you had taken a piece of chicken to your much, "I noticed it when we were in my room, and even now there's something", he nudged your arm.
Chewing and swallowing afterwards, you moved the broccoli around your plate, gathering your thoughts before speaking up, "do you know people ship you and Alice?", you spoke up.
"Don't change the subject, darl - is that it?", Max tried to understand.
"People seem to think you'd make a great couple, like, they have your whole relationship panned out. Everyone thinks she's very pretty - and I agree with them -, and that you two have chemistry and that it would be nice for you to be with her - looks exchanged and all sorts of ideas", you mumbled.
"Liefje, I'd never do that to you, I don't interact with her that way", Max replied instantly.
"I know you don't, but it hurts to see", you admitted, "comments people make about my boyfriend and how he really should start dating someone - and they know who that person is, so really it's just a matter of putting two and two together!", you let a tear fall down your cheek.
"Y/N, I didn't know it was bothering you so much and bringing you such sadness", Max cupped your cheek, thumb wiping the tears that followed suit and looking into your eyes.
"I can ask the team to issue or statement - or we can go public. I don't care what we do as long as you feel better about it", he comforted.
"Do you want to go public?", you asked, afraid of the answer.
"Y/N, my love, being secret was just to protect you, for your good. If going public is the solution for this, I'm the first one to walk into the paddock tomorrow with you, holding hands and everything", he moved his hands to cradle your own.
"You mean that? It's just, I don't want people to assume you're single and throw themselves at you - or throw someone at you! I know Alice won't do it, but other people might and I'm tired of having to lie to people about where I'm going and saying no to dates they try to set up and why I gave a RedBull rain jacket on my car", you chuckled at the last one, remembering your coach's reaction when she saw it, "Since when do you follow F1?", Carol questioned.
"We'll do it tomorrow if you want, or whenever you feel ready, Y/N. I'll be by your side, always", he smiled kissing your lips lovingly.
"I don't have any paddock wag outfits with me", you giggled, "have to make a good impression".
"Please, you could go in these pyjamas and you'd still be the prettiest woman there", he pulled you to sit on his lap as you finished your dinner.
The next morning, people couldn't believe their eyes as Max walked hand in hand with a young woman, the pair of them talking about something between them as they giggled.
A few were unsure of it was really you while others asked their colleagues to please repeat your name, googling you quickly and finding out your achievements.
Soon enough, pictures flowed social media with the paddock's new power couple, gossip Instagram pages having a field day and it wasn't even lunch time.
"This is news", Daniel said as he spotted Max. He had been one of the few people outside of the team who knew about you two, you having made him swear that he would never tell anyone, and if by chance he did let something slip, you trusted him to make a joke out of it and for people to assume he was just teasing Max indeed.
"You won't have to keep it to yourself anymore, Danny", you said as you hugged his side quickly.
"That's good, actually, I think that's what has been keeping me from being focused in racing, it's a real relief, Y/N", he stated and for two seconds, you felt bad for putting such pressure on him, "I'm just kidding! C'mon, you know what I'm like", he gave you a big smile, "now, I have to go, will pop by to see you though!", Daniel said as he waved while he carried on to his team's garage.
Your interactions with Daniel and the team spurred curiosity as the media started thinking and hypothesizing that maybe your relationship was as new as they thought it was. As it turns out, once again, Max Verstappen knew how to keep private aspects away from the media.
For now, they would try to dig more and find out how the Olympic medalist swimmer stole the heart of the Formula One driver.
#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fluff
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little fic inspired by this post by @murdrdocs - no editing because i pumped this out in half an hour and i want people to know how much i would pay for someone to do this to me
tw: MDNI! 18+ content, slight blood kink, dacryphilia, face fucking, slight dubcon if you squint, semi-public sex, reader is obsessed with being clean
your dad had an obsession with cleanliness. when you were a young girl, you never noticed a speck of dust on the counter or a crumb on the floor. you did chores frequently, and you were always lectured when you had a hair out of place or an untucked shirt.
perhaps that’s where you had gotten it from. the slightest indication of something being messy, of something going wrong, sent you over the edge. plans were meant to be made for specific times, and routines were the best way to structure things. so you’d wake up at 5:30 each morning, dressing in a pink sports bra, pink leggings, and matching pink trainers. you finished it off with a pink bow folded left over right, in the same direction you applied your lipgloss. you walked towards the sword fighting arena, reaching the doors as soon as the clock hit six.
you walked over to your usual area, setting your metal water bottle down with a soft clanging noise.
you were thankful that the dirty gym floor was not your only option, instead choosing to bring your own yoga mat. the pristine pink rolled out over stained blue, covering up years’ worth of demigod training. you’d prefer to work out over something less icky, but the aphrodite cabin was crowded enough - and this was preferable to the bare grass.
you pretended not to notice the hermès’ boy in the center of the arena. a layer of sweat coated his skin generously as he dove back and forth, practicing intricate techniques you couldn’t even fathom using.
he peeled off his camp shirt slowly, turning towards you and meeting your eyes. he sent you a wink, clearly aware that you had just been ogling him. you blush deeply and look down, choosing instead to pick at the skin on the outside of your thumbs.
that was the first sign he noticed. your pristine image could be worn down. he wanted to use it against you.
the first night he grabbed your wrist while you were picking at your skin. he brought your bleeding fingers up to his mouth and wrapped his tongue around them firmly, maintaining eye contact as he sucked. he nearly combusted at the pretty little whimper you let out, clenching your thighs together. you were wearing those light pink leggings you loved, so he could see the wetness forming anyway. he let your fingers go with a ‘pop’ noise, laughing softly as he watched you furiously wipe your fingers down on your thighs.
“do you have hand sanitizer, luke?”
the next time he was a little bolder, wrapping one hand around your throat and trailing the other one behind your head, smiling widely at your gasp as he undid the perfect bow. he watched your hair fall around your pouting face with glee. when he let go of your throat, it was to tie your wrists together in a similarly neat little bow above your head. he was going to tear you apart, but the least he could do was give you something orderly to focus on while you drooled and sobbed over his violent thrusts, choking on his cock a little bit more each time. he liked the way you looked like this, mascara running down your cheeks and doe eyes looking up at him with desire.
the third time he caught you after a workout, pulling you into the woods and pushing you over a tree stump. you began to complain about the scratchiness on your stomach, only stopping when a forceful yank to your ponytail caused you to wince. within seconds he had torn the fabric of your pink leggings, thrusting into you relentlessly as he watched the hole rip wider and wider. you whined loudly, annoyed at the mess but in a state of pure euphoria. luke palmed at every inch of you, slapping your cheeks with his rough hands and pushing your pink sports bra down your shoulders to bite at the skin of your breasts. you cried as you came, the force of your orgasm causing him to release inside you. he knew you would despise the sticky feeling of his cum coating the skin of your thighs, and he adored that.
the next morning, people were shocked when you walked into the mess hall with your hair down, one of luke’s camp shirts covering your pajama shorts. you wore slippers, a tired look in your eyes, and several massive hickeys on your neck. he was delighted when the first thing you did was walk over to him and grab him by his arm, dragging him to your empty cabin for a round two. or three or four, depending on how much you felt like being ruined that particular day. there was something so captivating about being so free, so unclean.
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#cal's writing!#pjo series#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan x you
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