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kanekisfavoritegf · 5 months

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Paranoia

Click here! For Pt. 1 : SHAMELESS

This actually took forever cause of my hiatus and severe writers block so I'm super sorry :((

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI you will be blocked!🩷

Warnings: Smut, BJ, face fucking Cucking, rough sex, kinda deranged Sukuna, breading, hate sex, voyeurism, exhibitionist, mentions of prior infidelity. Sukuna x reader x toji??? (more in the first part)

Sukuna had been living in a state of paranoia.

Ever since your son had been born, he’d been taking notice of how different they looked.

He wouldn’t say anything to you. Not until three months in when one day at work…

He was in Toji’s office going over some business plans for a big upcoming merger. He was about to leave when his eyes flicked to a framed photo on his desk. His heart dropped for a second before rising once again to its rightful place when he realised it was a baby photo of Megumi, circa 2003.

“Your son?” He nodded to the image.

Toji smirked a little before nodding, “Yeah, he is now four, about to be five in a few weeks. Time really goes by fast.”

“He looks exactly like you.”

“Yeah, he always has, even when he was a newborn.” Toji fought off the incoming smirk.

Sukuna’s brain clogs were slowly turning as he pierced everything together. Anger simmered in his blood.

“Cute runt.”

“How old’s your kid now anyway, Ryo? Like two months?”

“Three.”

“Cute.” Tojis said not really caring to look up from his screen.

Half an hour after Sukuna left his office, he felt his eye twitch every other minute. It was like there was a devil on both his shoulders. One telling him to get a paternity test and kick you to the curb, the other telling him to call you to his office and make you suck his dick until he wasn't angry at you anymore.

Option one would definitely solve his paranoia, but he would lose you. And Sukuna refuses to give up his favourite treasures, especially not to Toji of all people. He’d rather kill you than have him call you his wife.

Totally very sane.

So option two it is.

When Sukuna’s assistant called telling you to come, with no explanation. You honestly felt the air leave your lungs. You knew he knew, and he knew that you knew that he knew. But none of you acknowledged it. You don’t know why.

You had a plan the day Toji left your house the morning after you two defiled every single wall in yours and Sukuna’s shared home. You planned to leave your husband and start a new life. But then it hit you. Guilt like no other. A guilt that had left you crying for half the week and drinking for the rest.

Upon your husband's arrival, he pulled you into his embrace, covering your face with kisses and shoving an expensive bouquet your way and a diamond necklace in his briefcase. His form of apologising was gift-giving. Along with eating you out right there on the floor, until, you had made a mess of his face.

How could you leave him after one measly fight? How could you cheat on him after a small hiccup in the relationship? This was your marriage and you acted like a complete whore. You let temporary emotions and anxiety take control of your vagina and like a shark smelling blood you raced your way to the closest dick you could find.

And everything just went down hill after you found out you were pregnant. The anxiety of finding out who was the father killed you. You spent many tearful nights hoping your child’s face would grow to resemble your husband more. But that wasn't the case. So you did your best to be the perfect wife and stay in his good graces, for how could you lose the love of your life?

So there you stood, at the door of the meeting room knocking softly at its smooth wood. You fiddled with your hair and straightened out your dress as you waited for your husband's response.

“Come in.” The voice was deep, like your husband's but its specific rasp had you hesitating as you turned the door knob.

“Hi, sweetheart.” The scar on his mouth twisted with his smile. He looked overjoyed to be here. And you couldn’t be any more annoyed at him.

“Why are you here?” Your voice was laced with annoyance.

“Baby, that’s not how you greet people.”

“Don’t call me baby Toji.”

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He stated, eyes piercing yours.

“So?”

“So, you have my kid-”

“Could you keep it down!” You slammed the door shut behind you, hoping no one overheard. “Sukuna is the father, not you.”

“You have MY kid, Y/N, my kid, and you don’t talk to me. You barely even look at me.”

“Because I have a HUSBAND and a life I want.” You shook your head at him.

“That’s not what you said last year.”

“Is that why you called me here? To try and convince me to leave my husband?”

“He is here because I invited him.” You jumped from your position. Turning to face your husband with a shocked face.

“Ryomen.” You put on your best smile, trying to keep it together as you stare at him; paying no mind to the growing grim expression of your past lover, or for better words, past mistake.

“My love.” He smiled with a twinkle of something dangerous in his eyes.

“Why did you invite him here?” You watched as he locked the door behind him, closing all the curtains and stalking down the long table passed all the empty chairs. Until he reached the end. The CEO’s chair.

He sat himself down and looked at you, raising his eyebrow until you got the hint, and hurried your cute self onto his lap.

“Hello, my wife.” His head pressed into your neck roughly, taking in the scent of you. “God, you smell amazing.”

“Sukuna, Toji is here.” You sighed out dreamily as Sukuna busied himself with kissing your neck.

“You are truly a shameless slut.” You froze in your movements.

“What?” Your voice shook.

“Oh, I was talking to Toji, but I guess it can apply to you too.” Your heart had now dropped to the pits of your stomach. Was this it? Was this the end of your marriage?

“Sukuna wai-”

“Shut up.”

“Ryomen, please.” His hands grasped your hair tightly, moving you off of his lap and onto the floor. All the while, Toji watched with a smile on his face. This was it for him. The moment in which Sukuna would kick you to the curb and let him have you. At least, that’s what he thought.

“Suck my dick.” Sukuna didn’t even give you time to process what he demanded, because as soon as your mouth was open he plunged his length down your throat. Groaning at the feeling of your immediate gags. You begged him to kick Toji out with your eyes, pleading for privacy as he used you.

“You know, I watched the clips of you screwing my wife over and over.” Your husband's attention was fully on Toji now, as held on to your hair. Staring him down as Toji watched on, not giving a response to Sukuna’s obvious attempt to get to him.

“You made it seem like they were erased, but I only had to put in a little effort to find the security camera's videos on your hard drive.”

His hand guided the movements of your head so roughly, tears already streamed down your face.

“If I didn’t want you to find them, Sukuna, I wouldn’t have let you.” Toji finally gave a response back.

“Now, now. Is that any way to talk to your boss?” He tutted at him. Smiling at the growing annoyance on Toji’s face.

“The one mistake you made wasn’t fucking my wife, or trying to take my child.” He scoffed at him. “It was thinking I’d ever let my wife go.” Sukuna had pulled his now fully erect cock out of your mouth and slapped it against your tear-stained cheeks. You used this time to breathe and rest as he assaulted your face with more slaps. But this reprieve didn't last long, as he was plunging back into your mouth as he continued talking to Toji.

“You what? Thought I didn’t know she was a whore the day I married her?” You couldn't help but moan at your husband's words, rubbing yourself down onto his shining shoe. “I mean just look at her, humping my leg like a bitch in heat.”

And as you completely ignored the attention of your past love, Sukuna came to the resolution that he’d never leave you. Not ever. He would punish you for all your worth. But leave you? Never. You were like a drug to him, an incubus who had her fangs lodged deep into his soul. So, while yes, he was angry at you for sleeping with another man, he realised he just needed to fuck the much-needed sense back into you.

And that's when Sukuna decided to fuck you until the very idea of Toji had been completely erased. Again and again.

Sitting prettily on the table, Toji was forced to watch Sukuna take you over and over just like he did all those months ago.

You made no attempt to be quiet because you knew you would be met with Sukuna’s hand squeezing your cheeks, forcing them open as he plowed into you. Every moan and every whine was one pulled from your husband, as he took you, sitting on the table.

Toji’s eyes were kept to the ground until Sukuna noticed his aversion to the scene.

“Look at my wife while I fuck her, Toji. You know what you put me through this year? You should be beaten bloody and fired. You have it easy. Now, watch her face as I make her cum.”

Even with his eyes pressed on yours as they rolled back in pleasure, Sukuna didn't stop his verbal attacks at the man. Continuing to talk as he fucked through another orgasm.

“I’d fuck your wife to prove a point, but she’s dead already, isn’t she?”

“She’s always been a screamer but listen to her now. Any louder and someone might hear through the soundproof walls.”

“Do you miss fucking her?”

“God she's always so tight and wet.”

“Look at how lovely my wife squeezes around me.”

Wanting a change of position, Sukuna thought it best to throw you over Toji’s lap as he took you from behind.

“Don’t touch what isn't yours.” Your husband warned as Toji went to pat your head as you drooled over his lap and his very prominent hard-on.

“Ryo—fuck. Break. Plea-Oh fuck.” You tried pleading for a break.

“Nuh-uh, baby. We are gonna keep going until I say so.

Pressing your nails into Toji's thighs for stability only caused him to groan out in pleasure.

“Oh. You like watching me fuck my belongings?” Sukuna laughed at Toji’s glare. Knowing that if he tried to leave, it would be over for him, he'd lose his job, along with you.

Slowing his movements down a little, Sukuna reveled at the way you shuddered over his cock. He was getting close and could feel it.”

“Should we give our baby boy a sibling? Hm? A girl or a boy? I think I want another boy. What do you think, baby?”

You gave no response, only the moan of a cock drunk whore.

“Since my wife can’t answer. Toji, tell me. Should I give my son a sibling?”

After being met with silence again. Your husband took it upon himself, cumming in you, triggering your climax immediately after.

You fell to the ground, your weak legs giving in after The hard fucking they withstood. Cum seeped out of you and onto the floor. “What are you doing? Get up. How many times did it take for it to stick in the security footage?” He asked you, keeping eye contact with the other man as he spoke. “I want to make sure you leave full.”

Taglist: @mcnooberton @watyousayin @lazullywinter @llovergirlll @sanrioglocks @ramonathinks

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corpsebasil · 1 year

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well hello! Hope you're having a great sunday darling! Since you asked so nicely for Nikolai requests, here's one: I have this feeling that dear ol' Nik's love language is touch. Could we get a very smutty smut where we also also explore how much he is a sucker for always touching the reader? I'm also a sucker for Paddy's hands so it would be lovely if they feature somewhere. ^^ Thank you and lots of love!

Why yes I can, but Ima need at least two parts

Second in Command 18+ Part 1

Nikolai, your captain and fellow privateer, was discussing terms of passage with Alina Starkov and her…whatever his name was…friend. Nikolai was dramatic. He’d always been a drama queen, so when he told her how much she was worth, dead or alive, you’d almost snorted.

You sat at his desk chair, lounging with one leg crossed over the other. He had appointed you as second in command, trusting you the handle the…private affairs that involved weaponry and taking care of rumors. Now he was standing beside his chair as he spoke, and he would not. Stop. Touching you.

You pushed his arm off as casually as you could when he wrapped it around your shoulders. You gritted your teeth in annoyance when his fingers played with your braid as he spoke, his hand out of sight from the two guests. And Saints save you, when he put a hand on your shoulder and rubbed his thumb against your skin, massaging away a knot in your muscle that he’d found with maddening efficiency, you barely stifled a groan and simply knocked him away.

The worst part was this: he didn’t even seem to realize he was doing it. The man was the touchiest person you’d ever met, and it made you feel all sorts of things when you further realized he wasn’t this way with anyone else. But he was flirty, and he was something like a friend, and you could handle unnecessary physical contact if you stayed second in command.

Later, he found you leaning against the rail of the ship, your eyes scanning the water for any signs of life. You tossed a piece of bread down to the waves, hoping in vain to see a fish or a dolphin or something pop out and get it.

“If you toss some meat over we might see a shark.” Your captain said, approaching you, and you smirked over your shoulder.

“Maybe I’ll toss you in. That’d be a show.”

He chuckled as he leaned against the rail beside you, his arm touching yours. Saints, this man had absolutely zero concept of personal space. He ran a hand across the smooth rail, testing it for blemishes, and you tracked the movement. You hated to admit it, but the man had nice hands. Your eyes lingered on the rather large ring on his hand, then immediately looked away when he bumped your hip with his and let out a soft laugh.

“Imagining things, Second?” He teased, but took his ring off, holding it towards you. “Here. Try it on for size.”

“No.” You scoffed. Imagining things. As if.

“Come on.”

“No. I don’t want your ridiculous ring.”

“Suit yourself.” He sighed, tugging it back onto his finger. “What do you think of our new summoner friend?”

“I don’t think anything I don’t care.”

“You’ll care when twenty million Kruger is in your pocket, I bet.”

“All for me?” You asked sweetly, glancing over. He was closer than you’d originally realized and you startled a bit, his blue eyed stare watching you with sleepy amusement.

“All yours, if you want it.” He said, voice soft, and your gaze darted to his mouth, then his eyes. A slow, wicked smile began to spread across his face when you looked away, glaring out at the ocean. What the hell was wrong with you? “But truly. If Alina is as powerful and useful as they say, we’re in for a lot more than just money.”

You blinked, still staring at the water. Money. Think about the money. Not the way his hands look when he’s running them across a rail. Not the way his lips move when he speaks, the curve of his upper lip and—

“Y/N?”

You almost jumped.

“What?” You asked, heartbeat quickening. He was staring at you with a confused, almost curious expression, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“I asked if you’re going to the tavern tomorrow. When we dock?”

“Oh.” Your brain scrambled, trying to remember at what point in the conversation did docking even become a thing? “We’re…docking?”

“Yes.” He was still looking at you, eyes narrowed slightly as if with suspicion. “To get supplies? Were you listening to me just now?”

“Yes. Yes I was. I was um—” you swallowed, cursing yourself for being so fucking awkward. You were confident as hell, and he was annoying, for Saints sakes. And now you were thinking about your captain’s hands? “Considering tossing you over again. For fun.”

“Ah,” he said, and it was so obvious you were lying that you almost hit him when amusement lit up in those eyes. “and I was thinking about kissing you. But maybe we’re both liars.”

Your stomach turned and you glanced away, then back, unsure of how to even begin to respond. So when he moved towards you and slipped a hand around your waist, dipping his head down to yours, you had a millisecond to register the whisper of his mouth against your own before you lurched away, stumbling back.

“No. No. What the hell, Nik?”

“You were staring at me like you wanted me to kiss you. So I did.” His expression was innocent. Too innocent.

“I did not want you to kiss me. I don’t.”

“Alright.” He said, calmly, and held his hands up as if in surrender. “No kissing, then.”

“Absolutely no kissing.”

“We’ve—that’s been established. Thank you for the unnecessary and slightly offensive emphasis.”

You scoffed and whirled around, practically stomping as you made your way towards your cabin, the only one on the ship besides your captain’s that you didn’t have to share. He followed you wordlessly, hands in his jacket pockets, whistling lowly under his breath.

You felt warm. Annoying warm as you moved into your room and shut the door, leaning against the wood as you breathed in and out heavier than you’d like. You swallowed. Then you drank a glass of water and sat on your bed. You changed into pajamas. You sat some more.

And then, suddenly annoyed into action, you picked up the nearest coat and pulled it over your nightgown, realizing only after you’d already knocked on his door that it was his own stupid coat. When had he even put it in your room? You—

The door opened, and a sleepy looking Nikolai poked his head out.

“Hello, lovely.” He said, eyeing what you were wearing. “I see you found my missing coat.”

“I was just returning it.” You gave him an annoyed look and shrugged it off, ignoring the appreciative glance he gave your nightgown. All your nightclothes were skimpy, but you hadn’t thought he’d ever see you in them. “Goodnight.”

“What is that—a napkin? Saints you women have interesting choices in clothing.”

“If think this is small you should see my lingerie, you judgmental bastard.” You regretted the words the second they left your mouth, watching as color rose on his cheeks and his eyes glittered with mischief.

“That can be arranged.” He purred, opening the door wider and leaning against the side. “But only if you’re wearing it when I see it.”

“Oh my—you’re such an asshole.” You whipped around to storm back to your room—really, it was only about ten feet away from his so the effect was lost—but were halted when Nikolai reached you in a few strides and grabbed your hand.

You turned to tell him off, annoyed and almost at your wits end, when his arm looped around your waist and he crushed you against him, mouth against yours.

You gasped when his fingers dug roughly into your skin, his tongue slipping between your lips, and damn you if he wasn’t the best kisser you’d ever had in your life. He backed you against the wall, hips to your own, and you almost whined against him when you realized absolutely anyone could see you right now.

“Stop it.” You whispered, pushing at his chest, but he only gave you an inch of space as he raised a brow. “Literally anyone could walk by.”

“Then we should go inside your room.”

“You are not going in my—”

“You could come to mine, if you prefer—”

But then footsteps echoed from somewhere nearby, voices of crew mates talking quietly, and you panicked, opening your door and practically throwing your captain inside before locking it behind you.

“Saints, be careful I almost fell over your—”

This time it was you who lunged for him, almost knocking him over when you seized him by his shirt and kissed him as hard as you dared. He groaned and your heart dropped into your stomach, his hands grasping your waist as he kissed you back. You moved when he stepped backwards, sitting on the edge of the bed and tugging you up onto his lap. You groaned, then, when he ground you down against him and moved his mouth to your neck.

“Is this the moment I see your lingerie?” He teased, and you could only sigh when his tongue and mouth trailed a searing path down your throat to your collarbone.

“Nikolai—” you gasped when he ground up against you again, evidence of his arousal digging into your pelvis.

“Yes, love?” His teeth nipped at your skin as his hands slid your nightgown up, fingers brushing the lace of your underwear.

“Nik, I want you to—”

A knock hit your door and you both jumped, turning to stare in absolute horror at the entrance to your bedroom.

“Miss Y/L/N, do you know where the captain is? We need to ask him about some maps we’re looking over.”

“He uh—" your voice sounded strained and you cringed. “Im not sure where he is, sorry.” Nikolai’s fingers tightened on your hips when you moved to get off him and you shot him a glare.

“Do you think you could look at them, then? Your opinion is just as good.”

“I—” you tried not to squeak when Nikolai leaned into you and began sucking a bruise onto your neck, completely unbothered by the current situation. “I can’t right now. Sorry.” You smacked your captain on the arm, ignoring his grin when he finally let you off him. “Give me like, three minutes.”

“Oh, alright.” A pause from outside. “Do you want us to wait here or—”

“No no. Conference room is fine.” You swallowed roughly and listening to the footsteps fading away, headed off to likely prepare the discussion you were about to have. You sighed dramatically and turned, giving Nikolai a look that promised violence. “Don’t do that when I’m trying to talk I almost—oh don’t give me that look.”

“What look?” He asked innocently, tilting his head to examine your flushed and rumpled features, his lips swollen and hair messed up. “What ever will the crew say if they heard you moaning my name when they think we’ve gone to bed?”

“Nikolai.”

“See, just like that, only with more emphasis.”

“I can’t stand you sometimes.” You groaned, moving to your vanity to grab a robe. “If you’re coming to the meeting, try not to act too suspicious.”

“What ever do you mean?” He teased, coming up behind you as you tied your hair back to pull your ass against his front. “Is this suspicious? What if I—”

You smacked his hand when it slipped beneath your dress and he let out a startled ow.

“Fine, fine.” He rolled his eyes, but took your hand before you could move away and slipped his ring onto your finger. “But wear this. Just so I know how this night’s going to end.”

“I’m not wearing—Saints save me fine.” This man was a pain.

He was a pain and an annoyance and you were a bloody pushover when you looked down at your finger and admired the jewelry instead of cringing at it. It was a bit big for you, though, so you took it off and threaded it onto your necklace’s chain instead. He smile grew when he watched your actions, nodding in approval.

“Never thought I’d be jealous of a necklace before.” He mused, eyeing your chest, and you whacked his arm lightly, trying not to grin at him. “See, I’m funny. You almost laughed.”

“I did not.” You argued, and walked ahead of him as you left the room and went down to meet up with the crew.

No one said anything, but it was obvious to everyone that the captain had been with you the night before when they couldn’t find him. It was a ship, not a castle, and there were limited places a man like him could be hiding without being found.

Plus, to your chagrin, there was the whole matter of Nikolai was being so damn annoying about it. The man was practically strutting around the ship the next morning, his smile wide, and at breakfast, where you sat sipping a coffee and nibbling a bowl of fruit, your nose in a book, he embarrassed you by kissing the top of your head and squeezing your shoulder as he passed.

“Nice necklace, Y/N. New purchase?”

Bastard. Cheeky bastard.

But he continued on like nothing unusual had just occurred, moving to discuss navigation with Mal, as you looked up at Tamar and Alina who were watching you with curious, amused expressions.

“When did that happen?” Tamar demanded, eyes darting from the captain to you.

“It was nothing. He’s just messing with me, I suppose.”

“Liar. Your heartbeat increased.”

“He’s just flirtatious you know that.”

“I think you’d be cute together.” Alina piped up, smiling as she watched the exchange. “You seem well matched. To be honest I thought you already were together when we met.”

“We’re not together, gods above.” You groaned, raising your book to cover your face.

“Basically. That man’s been obsessed with her since they met.” Tamar told Alina, furthering your embarrassment. “Everyone knows. It’s just funny watching them act like we don’t.”

“They do not know.” You insisted, mortified, and Tamar’s laugh was genuine.

“Come on, Y/N. When the guys went to Sturmhond’s room last night to find him, they had already placed a bet on whether he’d be there, or in yours.”

“No.” You protested, momentarily thrown when you remembered that no one else on the ship knew his true name but you. “No they did not.”

“Yes they did. And Wesley won forty Kruger when he was in yours.”

“Scandalous.” Alina giggled, then covered her mouth with a hand when you shot her a dirty look. “Sorry. It’s just funny, them betting over something like that.”

“Plus,” Tamar said, pointing a fork at your neck. “you’ve got a hickey the size of Ravka on your neck. You look like he tried to eat you.”

“Oh my—” you shot up out of your seat, snatching up your book and shooting Tamar a look that would scare almost anyone but her. “That’s it. Dish duty for you for the rest of your life.”

She was still laughing, ignoring your words completely, when you gathered up your breakfast and decided you’d have it in your room instead of bothering with being teased all day.

Whewwww the way Nik gets sassier and sassier every time I post is sending me

#shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai x reader #smut #nikolai lantsov smut

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shibaraki · 9 months

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WE UNFOLD IN POOLS OF GOLD ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

tags: GN reader, pro hero shouto, publicity stunts (a fake relationship) fluff, flirting, mutual pining, alcohol consumption, pick up lines, confessions, best friends to lovers

wc: 2.3K

“Look, as I’ve said this is only for the event tonight,” Shouto’s manager, Abe Riko, instructed you. Unease had twisted in your stomach as she looked you over with a critical eye, smoothed the wrinkles in your clothing and circled you like a shark. “You don’t have to confirm that you’re in a relationship, you just need to behave like you’re in one. Enough that it’ll create speculation”.

At first you’d been mystified that Shouto agreed to such a thing but it soon became clear the public perception was gnawing at him. To your confusion, people found Shouto to be an enigmatic hero type; they didn’t know how to interact with him and often hesitated in doing so, intimidated by his impassive expression and monotony.

You know Shouto to be the opposite. He is clever in social situations, he’s witty and blunt and he makes you laugh. With that in mind you supposed being their first choice was the least surprising part of the situation. Shoving a beautiful stranger on his arm would only lead to an inevitable stony faced and unfiltered disaster. As one of his best friends your presumed relationship is far more believable given how comfortable you are together.

The issue is you—namely, your feelings for him. Love that knows no boundary. Yearning dug deep in your bones. Hunger that leads you to eventually say yes.

A multitude of anxieties take root in your thoughts, playing out all the possible outcomes, bracing you for the inevitable hurt come morning. Because everything feels right, here. Shouto’s hand sits low on your back like it belongs there. He leans in closer than necessary to listen to you talk, commentates on the lives of the attendants around you; always a smile in his eyes when you laugh at something he says; the brush of his mouth to your temple; the fingers that squeeze at your waist.

“I think we’ve done well,” you say. “Don’t you?”

Rather than needing to stick close to his side as instructed, Shouto has been the one to trail after you, hand in gentle hand while you meander around the venue to greet people. He never enjoyed flashy events but you can tell your presence helps, along with the copious free alcohol.

“Only the tabloids will tell”.

Another waiter passes by, bowing his head low and proffering a tray of champagne flutes. Shouto plucks one up, bringing it to his nose, which wrinkles at the sharp smell. You laugh, distracted as his thumb rubs over your knuckles. “Let me try some”.

Shouto looks at you from the corner of his eye, near electric blue under the lustrous chandeliers hung in the high ceilings. You’ve had a hard time appreciating the architecture when you could simply marvel at him in his grey slim fit suit.

He swipes his tongue across his lip, wincing at the taste before tipping the rim of the glass against your mouth. Your heart beats loud in your ears as you sip the fizzing champagne, sharp and slightly zesty. A flurry of shuttering clicks go off across the room, dwindling into white noise. You’re accustomed to ignoring the reoccurring camera flashes now. “Shit. That’s so dry,” you groused under your breath.

Shouto hums, equal parts amused and congruent with your displeasure. “I wish they would serve something sweet and fruity for once,” he says.

You pointedly refasten your grip around his hand, arm drawn across your midsection to rub his forearm, “I got enough sweet and fruity right here”.

Something ravenous like pride rears in your chest when he tucks his chin and snorts. The movement coaxes a few stray red strands over his forehead. Sucking in a breath, Shouto’s cheeks swell and deflate as he exhales heavily. “Well, according to everybody else I am too boring. That’s why we’re here together”.

“And that’s bullshit. If anything you’re the pretty face making me seem more interesting here,” you say offhandedly, turning your attention to the undulating crowd. The live band takes on a spirited beat as more people gather on the dance floor. Shouto continues to stare in your peripheral vision, coloured in fondness you don’t know what to do with.

“I don’t know if that’s true,” he tells you, a diffident lilt in his voice. “You look incredible tonight”.

There’s a nascent giddiness sprouting in your chest. It feels so distinctly innocent and juvenile, the kind you feel throughout your whole body. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Shouto pauses, flustered, and swallows down another gulp of champagne. “…Abe-san is very good at what she does”.

The reminder that you’re engaging in a publicity stunt is jarring—but his sincerity eases any sting that might’ve come from it. It’s as though he were refreshing his own memory more than he is yours. The thought makes you smile and you take the flute glass from him, swirling the liquid gold inside.

“Shouto. Are you flirting with me?” you tease, holding his gaze as you find the cold impression of his lips on the rim and take a sip. You’ve started burning from the inside out, wiggling fingers entwined, and Shouto knots them together tighter in response.

“Flirting on a date is commonplace,” he returns, pushing the wayward strands back into his carefully styled hair. You soften at the sight. Pinned behind his left ear and combed over to the right, Shouto doesn’t hide his scar the way he used to.

You set the empty champagne glass on a waitress’s tray as she passes, and reach to fix his parting. “Well if we’re allowed to flirt then I can tell you I love your hair like this,” you murmur, fingertips brushing along his temple and down the curve of his right cheek. “It’s hot. And I like seeing more of your face”.

To anyone else the hot and cold hero might appear indifferent. But you feel when the air around him expands, thick with warmth. Shouto is careful to keep it under his skin. “Because you think my face is pretty?” he recalls.

“Now you’re getting it”.

“So then…” Shouto clears his throat, shifting his weight. The grip on your fingers loosens like he expects you’ll let go. “If I’m pretty and you’re cute, together we would be pretty cute”.

The lick of sheer affection that flashes through your chest is overwhelming. “Shouto,” you start, clutching at his hand, thoroughly enjoying the immediate regret written on his face. “Who taught you that?”

“I understand pick up lines just fine,” he mutters, only to sulkily add, “Kaminari may have shared some with me”.

You laugh. It’s all you can do to allay the urge to kiss him. Shouto is dangerous enough as he is—teaching him pick-up lines was the wholesome equivalent of handing him the nuclear codes. The room takes on a gauzy, yellowish tint as the waiters line up to push the balcony doors open, perhaps from all the blood rushing straight to your brain.

The energy amongst the guests takes a palpable turn and people line up to head into the gardens, where a grande marquee has been set up. He tugs your wrist, lightly guiding you to follow the crowd. Expensive garments shimmer under the gloaming moonlight.

You step into the cool night air, warmed by the heat thrumming through Shouto’s left arm. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

Ah, he’s going to pout any second now, you think. The drinks must be wearing on him. “Sorry. It was kinda bad,” you tell him, ducking forward to inflict upon him your unfettered smile—because Shouto finds your delight particularly contagious. The tension in his brow releases as he smiles back, nudging you in your side, because he knows exactly what you’re doing. “It wasn’t bad bad—stop sulking. I’ll do you one better”.

“You will?”

The fireworks begin then, snatching his focus; great starbursts of light against the dark sky, lighting up the garden every few seconds. A prismatic glow halos Shouto’s silhouette, returning next in a vivid green, then red. You become hyper aware of your clammy palms and the flecks of fire tousled from his hair in the wind.

Inhibitions softened, tongue loose in your mouth, you steel yourself to pinch delicately at the lapel of his blazer. “Hey. Pretty boy,” you rub the fabric between your thumb and forefinger. “Is this boyfriend material?”

Shouto’s brow lifts in soft surprise and he blinks slowly. You’re struck once again by that fond gaze, how beautifully he wears it, and how he’s close enough that you can see the explosive display reflected in his eyes. As his smile grows the rough tissue above his left cheek crinkles, “Actually I think it’s cotton twill”.

You huff, suitably charmed at his feigned ignorance. Another firework soars into the air with a shrill whistle and the crowd around you murmurs in awe as it booms into a fleeting shower of gold. Neither you nor Shouto bother to glance up, or away from one another.

“You’re wrong, but that’s okay,” you sway further into his space; a small part of you is drawn in by the heat pulsing from his left side, but mostly because you wanted to touch him. “This is boyfriend material—no, husband material,” cheek squished to his shoulder, you peer up and curl your left hand around his bicep. The sleeve is tight against the muscle beneath. “Are you perhaps looking for a life partner?”

A traitorous hiccup jumps in your throat, and Shouto’s mouth thins as he tries not to laugh. There’s a blush staining him pink from his nose to his ears and it very well could be the alcohol, but inwardly you’d like to take credit for the dazed look on his face. Playing along he asks, “What are your qualifications?”

The surroundings and the people fade into obscurity until you forget exactly what it is that led you here. Just you and Shouto in the giddy darkness. “I can make you laugh. I can make you food. I can make you cum,” you hold up a finger for each point made. “I will still love you even when you watch me with that dead fish stare in the morning”.

Shouto’s half lidded expression flickers at that, his mouth jutting into a pout, though there’s no real hurt there. His knuckles brush against your cheek and unfurl to cup your jaw, “But you sleep with your mouth open. It’s cute”.

Turning into his palm you sigh, a little lovestruck, “I’m going to squeeze you like a grape”.

“Please don’t,” the low timbre of his voice wraps around you. “Best friends don’t bully each other,” he falters for a moment, waiting for another technicolour thunder to dwindle. “I suppose they don’t flirt, either”.

“One look at any of your old classmates proves that to be historically untrue, shortcake,” you cover his hand and stroke your thumb across the back of his knuckles. It doesn’t escape you that he has yet to let you go this evening, even going as far as waiting outside the bathrooms for you like some forlorn stray.

“Shortcake,” he mumbles the name as though trying it on for size. Abe-san and his team surely got what they wanted. Shouto smiled more tonight than he has in weeks and you can’t help hoping it’ll never end. “I like when you give me nicknames”.

You’re distantly aware of the lenses pointed in your direction; you conjure possible headlines and imagine the image printed below it, two people looped together in a perfect bow, and somehow it makes you a little braver. “Yeah? Well I like you,” you admit helplessly, clinging to the lapels of his suit. “I have for a long time. More than best friends should, if that wasn’t obvious”.

There’s a brief reprieve as multiple fireworks shriek through the air, splitting into hundreds of strobe stars. You get a clear view of Shouto’s expression as it flowers open before being plunged back into darkness.

“Oh,” his exhale is so loud in the deafening quiet. Hands find your waist and press you close, delaying your growing panic. “Was this our first date?”

“I mean, if you want it to be”.

“I don’t,” he says. Your heart stutters but his fingers keep you in place. “I wanted to take you to the Churaumi aquarium”.

You slump in his arms, cut loose by the relief, and he swallows you in a wintergreen embrace. “Fuck. You could’ve led with that first,” you mutter. His shoulders shake under your cheek.

“Sorry,” he says, sounding anything but.

Hands slip into his jacket. You cinch your arms around his middle as you lean back to get a good look at him. “…You’re seriously going to fly us out to Okinawa for our first date?”

Shouto looks back at you, gentled by the moonlight crowning his head. “Is that a yes?”

The fireworks must’ve finished, you note. A sea of people are surrounding the two of you; they pay you no mind, parting around your bodies with ease, too lost in themselves to notice. Slow, you arch into him, coming chest to chest, fingers locked at the small of his back. A cold sensation nips at your mouth as Shouto shudders an exhale.

“Yes,” you grin and bump your nose to his cheek. “If I kiss you do you think Abe-san will get mad?”

His hand comes to cup your nape, the other massaging idle shapes into your hip. “Probably,” he murmurs, tilting you—and with it, the world—to align your mouths and kiss you anyway.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader

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malavera · 1 year

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“You forgot I was young, once?” — Tom Cruise +18

Summary: You teased Tom for being old, you joked how his knees would crush if you were to ask him to eat you out. Tom felt belittled, challenged, so he wants to prove you wrong.

Tags: No plot, pure Smut, oral f/receiving, FingerFuck, Squirting, the use of a word “kitten”, Agegap (Reader is 26, Tom is 59) THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION AND +18 READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

tagging: @deanscroissant @tomsf18 @moondustfairies @helloitstsyu @call-sign-shark @love2write2626 @back-tooo-black

"What are you saying, baby?”

“Nothing.” You bit your lip with a sly smirk.

“Oh, you were saying something. Something about how I couldn’t give it to you just enough? Are you testing me?”

You and Tom had just started dating. You both wanted to take it slow, means… You haven’t done anything. You’re a young blood, while as dramatic as it would sound, he’s lived a lot of life. Being a young blood, means being a kid. You love teasing him about his age, about his stamina, that ends up with him challenging you to do some workouts with him at the Gym in his house.

But this time? It’s different.

Tom have been thinking about this comeback for a while. He understands how he has a jokester of a girlfriend, but sometimes… He just wants you to shut you mouth with something.

“Well… I know for a fact, that after you’re giving it to me goooodd… You’re gonna be falling asleep on my boobs.” You teased.

“And, no offense babe.. Don’t you think you will crush your knees if you do went down on me?”

You watched as Tom suddenly gets down on his knees in front of you, you were taken aback by his reaction but the smirk never leaving your face as for Tom, he’s looking at you with an expression that says you are unbelievable and you’re going to regret it.

Tom didn’t waste any more time and thank god you were wearing a pleated white skirt that he likes so it gave him easy access. His hands went to caress your shaven and smooth legs, eyes never leaving yours before he put his soft lips against your leg. He left kisses up from your legs to your knees, grazing your skin a little bit with his tongue.

“What are you doing, Tommy?” You gulped, trying to keep your cool.

Tom didn’t answer instead he kept his eyes on you and proceed giving you kisses. Your legs were pressed against each other though soon Tom slowly spread them, drawing the hem of your skirt up to your thighs as it is a little too short. Tom continued to give you kisses but this time its on your thighs. His thumbs pressing on each thighs while he leaves kisses on top of it.

Your favorite kind of affection to receive, is when someone gave your thighs full of attention and love. That is why you’re sitting there with your nails digging into the palm of your hands, your bottom lip tugged by your teeth. You could feel yourself getting soaked as it started to pool in your panties, soon you felt Tom’s breath getting closer and closer towards what you need the most.

You whimpered, and that made Tom halted his movements and looks at you from his lashes with a raised eyebrow. A smirk slowly showed on his face before he pushed himself slightly upwards just on top of your tummy.

“What’s wrong, sweets?” Tom slightly tipped his head to the side. “Did I do something wrong?”

“N-nothing..”

“Cat got your tongue, kitten?” Tom smirked before he hunched your skirt up to your waist and rip your panties off from your hips. You gasp at the sound of your favorite navy blue panties being torn, you and your smart mouth was about to protest but before you could even do that, Tom shoved his mouth towards your glistening pussy. His tongue teases your clit, before it goes on to play around your pussy lips.

“Ohhhh…” You moaned, throwing your head back against the cushion. Tom could feel the way your pussy throbs, needing more attention. Of course, he would never stop. He wouldn’t stop proving a point. You whimpered when you felt his finger tease your hole, without further a do, Tom shoved his finger inside your cunt—his tongue never leaving your clit. You gasped even more once you feel him thrusting his finger in and out of you.

His tongue is his weapon.

His big calloused hands are the ones that’s stopping you from shutting your thighs together. He’s spreading your legs as if you were a butter on top of the leather couch. You were panting, gasping, you regretted whatever you said minutes ago that sets him off. Again, he’s doing this to prove a point.

His tongue laps on your cunt like a kitten licking its favorite milk. He could feel your thighs vibrates in his hands, though no matter how many times you’re about to shut your legs together he would notice and adds more pressure.

“Ngh! T-Tom.. P-please, it’s too much.” You breathlessly spoke in between your moans. Your body wanted to stop while your brain couldn’t help but enjoy the euphoria that he’s giving you by licking your wet cunt. You’re practically dripping to the expensive leather coach.

“S-stop, Stop! I’m gonna-” You whimpered, “I’m gonna c-cum!” You yelped before you sprayed out your release to your boyfriend’s, perfectly sculpted by god, face. Your thighs vibrate, your legs violently shook, your panting’s never stop.

Tom gave your pussy one last stride by his tongue before giving her a kiss. His hands went to wipe his face off from your spray. Your chest still heaves from the orgasm whilst Tom was pushing himself off from the kneeling position to sit beside you.

“How’d you do that? That was so good.” You whined as Tom laughs,

“You forgot I was young once?”

#tom cruise #tom cruise smut #tom cruise fic #tom cruise x reader #tom cruise imagine #tom cruise imagines #tom cruise dirty imagine #tom cruise dirty imagines #maverick #maverick smut #top gun maverick smut #maverick x reader #ethan hunt #ethan hunt smut #ethan hunt x reader

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blueicequeen19 · 1 year

Text

Right Side Of Wrong

Warnings: JJ & John B’s off limits sister 👀

I love this trope. I’ll write it 100 times 🔥

Part Two

I propped myself up on some pillows and leaned back against my headboard, tangy scented smoke filling the air as I exhaled from my weed pen. I was freshly showered wearing only a pair of boxers with my legs sprawled out, my comforter kicked to the foot of my bed as I fought to erase the inappropriate thoughts I was having about my best friends little sister.

Y/N Routledge had been in my life as long as John B had. The three of us did everything together until we didn’t. She was my annoying little sister too, until she wasn’t. I constantly had to hear about John B being the over protective big brother and running everyone off that looked at her. Or asked about her. Or so much as walked in her direction.

For awhile, I was helping run off all the boys. Now part of me was glad that no one had touched her yet. She had the face of an Angel and the body of the devil. And she slowly began to realize that. She dressed for attention now and she was sure getting a lot from it. It was hard not to notice with her long, tan legs and perky tits. Her ass bounced with every step she took and my palm itched to smack the smooth flesh.

I couldn’t sleep without her invading my every fantasy. I wanted to know what she felt like.. on the inside and the outside. I wanted to taste her skin and her pussy. I wanted to know what those tits looked like when she bounced on my cock. I wanted to know what she sounded like when she came and when she gagged on me. I wanted to know if she was a squirter or a crier. If she’d like her hair pulled or choked. She was a brat, she probably liked both.

“JJ?” I blink back to reality, seeing Y/N standing at the foot of my bed in the same tiny bikini she wore in the hot tub tonight. I thought the vein in John B’s forehead was going to burst when he saw her. I suddenly realized I was sporting a hard on and her eyes were locked on it, making me harder. I yanked the comforter up over my waist to conceal myself but the damage was done. She wasn’t hiding her curiosity.

“W-what are you doing in here, Y/N?” I asked, trying to slow my racing heart. All the blood in my body seemed to be racing to my dick and I couldn’t stop it. She looked like a fucking wet dream.

“I just wanted to check on you. See if you needed anything.” She said with fake innocence, batting her lashes at me as she rounded the bed and sat on the edge next to me. My hands fisted the comforter as she checked me out, not even bothering to hide her interest. Her eyes lingered on the shark tooth necklace, probably remembering the night she made it for me.

“I’m fine. Thanks.” I tried to keep my voice even but my dick was so hard it hurt. I was going to have to rub one out at least a four times tonight.

“You sure about that? Nothing bothering you?” Her eyes moved down to my waist where I was clutching the comforter. Why was she doing this? The ultimate forbidden fruit offering herself up on a silver platter.

“Nope.” I swallowed hard.

“Okay.” Her brows furrowed, obviously not buying it. I watched as she reached behind her back and untied her top, letting it fall freely and exposing her perfect tits to me. I looked away, heat coursing through my body.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” I bit out. She took my hand, placing it over one of her tits and making me squeeze.

“Seizing the opportunity.” Her voice is soft and seductive, reminding me that I am not a strong man. Her hand falls from mine as I start to squeeze and pinch her nipple, rolling it between two fingers. I wanted to pinch her clit next. How wet would she be right now for me?

“We can’t do this.” I pull my hand away and she gives a small pout.

“Why not?” She tries to pull the comforter back but I don’t let her. I fix her with a knowing look, trying to keep my resolve from slipping.

“You know why. You’re like my sister.” I spit the words like they leave a bad taste in my mouth but she only chuckles, getting to her feet then throwing her leg over me to straddle me. I throw my hands up, sinking against the headboard as far as I can.

“You don’t look at me like a sister.” She leans in and whispers in my ear, her hands against my bare chest.

“I’m getting all this male attention when I’ve only ever wanted yours, JJ.” I fight to catch my breath but I can’t. My dick was jabbed into her thigh and I could feel the heat from her pussy.

“Stop.” I pant, wishing I had the strength to push her away.

“But you’re so hard, JJ. I can feel you.” His sultry voice in my ear as my eyes almost rolling back in my head. I can’t move my hands from their spot fisting the comforter or I’m liable to shove her on her back and eat that forbidden pussy like it’s my last meal.

“John B.” I bite out, shuddering when her lips ghost over my cheek and down my neck.

“This isn’t about him. This is about me and you and what’s coming. What’s been coming.” She kisses my neck just once and my restraint withers away by half. I swallow the lump in my throat just as her tongue swipes out and licks where she just kissed.

“He would hate me.” I rasp, feeling her tongue and teeth along my sweet spot. I had chills up and down my arms. She was pushing every single one of my buttons with her arms draped over my shoulders and her tits pressed against my chest. Her nipples were so hard against my skin, begging for my teeth.

“He would understand.” Then she bites me. Hard. It’s claiming and something inside me snaps. My arms circle her waist and I slam her down on her back on the bed, making her gasp in surprise. An animalistic sound leaves my throat as I gaze at her willing body. I couldn’t decide where I wanted to start but my cock knew.

I dive down and suck one of her pert nipples into my mouth, slapping my hand over her lips in time to muffle her cries. Her hands find my hair as I suck and bite her needy little buds one at a time until she’s withering and whimpering beneath me.

My hand slid between us and I groaned, feeling the heat and juices slipping from her already. My thumb barely swiped over her clit when there’s a pounding on my door, snapping me from my trance. I jump back, getting as far from her as I can when John B’s voice comes through the door.

“Yo, you hungry? We’re ordering pizza.” My heart was racing, I could barely register what he said as I palmed my chest. Y/N kicked me gently to get my attention.

“Yea! Pizza’s fine!” I call back.

“Okay! Have you seen Y/N? She wasn’t in her room.” John B asks and I move further away from her and her tempting tits. Her eyes narrow at me as she tries to determine what I’m going to say. God, if he hadn’t knocked on the door I would’ve fucked her. Fucked her with a house full of Pogues like she wasn’t off limits to everyone on this island.

“No, last time I seen her she was outside!” I call back, yanking on a pair of sweats and grabbing a pillow to conceal my hard on. Y/N spreads her legs and slides her delicate hand down her body, slowly running the tip of her finger over her clit until she panting softly. Oh god.

My dick jerks with the need to be buried inside something hot and wet.

“Okay, I’ll check outside.” John B’s voice makes me jump again, my nerves fucking shot.

“Okay! I’ll come help!” I hear his disappearing footsteps and I move to run after him when she slips her bikini bottoms to the side, revealing a glistening bare cunt.

All the air leaves my lungs and I step back until my back meets the wall, my jaw hanging open and my knees damn near giving out. She whimpers softly, circling her clit and gathering her wetness on her fingers before plunging a finger inside herself.

“Cum with me, JJ.” She moans under her breath, adding a second finger to her clenching hole.

“Nope. Nope. I can’t do this.” I feel like I’m having a heart attack as I make a mad dash for my bathroom, shutting myself inside just as I hear her rapidly approaching footsteps. I lock the door and plant my back against, hearing her curse on the other side.

“I won’t stop, JJ. I won’t.” I groan, hearing the determination in her voice before she walks away.

I quickly shove my sweats and boxers down, fisting my cock hard as the picture of her fingering herself plays on loop in my head. I could hear how wet she was. Her pussy should’ve been sucking on my cock, not her fingers.

I barely stroke myself three times and I cum harder than I have in a very long time, unable to catch my breath as I realize just how royally fucked I am.

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #obx2 #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx #rudy pankow #outerbanks rafe #outer banks #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx3

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chiriwritesstuff · 1 month

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The New Girl in Tinseltown - Chapter 2 - Devil's Advocate

A Dieter Bravo x Actress! Reader PR Marriage AU

Previous Chapter │ Series Masterlist │ Next Chapter

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Summary: A look into Dieter's point of view at the night of our fated trip to Vegas. How does America's favorite Bad Boy™ end up married to America's New Sweetheart™?

Chapter Warnings and Tags: (Not So) meet cute, PR Relationships, what happens in Vegas ends up in the headlines, Dieter just does not give a FUCK, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, a look at the inner workings of Tinseltown and the sleaziness it comes with, Dry Humping, A hell of a lot of dirty banter, is that yearning?, mentions of devious deeds by sleazy people in show business, our loverboy makes a 'Pride and Prejudice reference, SLOW BURN WE DONT KNOW IT, this is unhinged, no use of y/n, No beta we die like men!

Word Count: 8K (whoops!)

A/N: I know, I know, I KNOW. I promised the release of this chapter weeks ago, but I got struck by the not-covid-but-felt-like-covid virus and managed to get myself into the biggest writing slump. I really do apologize for that, and I want to give a big thank you to everyone who stuck around and showed and shared love and support for the first chapter and this series! I can confidently say that the writing slump has finally passed, and we can finally get this crazy show on the road...

An (almost) year before that night in Vegas.

“Dieter, I'm expecting you to be on your best behavior tonight."

Dieter scowls at his publicist while his groomer diligently applies yet another round of pomade in an attempt to tame his unruly curls. "Define best behavior."

"They're about to launch a new girl into the circuit, some unknown that the studio thinks will become the next girl next door," his publicist responds, tapping away at his MacBook. "She's a genuinely sweet thing, all doe-eyed and untouched by the suits. Apparently, she's so sweet that Feldman-"

“Let me guess,” Dieter deadpans, "Feldman wants to fuck her," he rolls his eyes at that, slightly curious at the prospect of fresh blood. "Why am I not surprised?"

"That's not the best part," his publicist quips, his eyes locking with Dieter's over the rim of his laptop. "The studio wants to protect their asset, so much so that they hired-"

"No fucking way, they hired the Shark for this broad? What? Does she have beer-flavored nipples or something?" Dieter exclaims, his curiosity piqued. "Is she really that sweet?"

His publicist's mouth quirks into a small smirk. "The sweetest, most fucking forbidden fruit, my friend. So sweet that the Shark doesn't want you within ten feet of his client."

"Oh yeah?" Dieter replies, his eyes raised.

"Hell yeah. He tried to corner me earlier, warning me to keep my client's - and I quote - Dirty fucking paws off of his Doll-"

"Doll, huh? I bet I could tap that," Dieter challenges, his chest puffed out.

Dieter's publicist chuckles to himself, shaking his head. "Dieter, I know you believe you're God's gift to the masses, but trust me, this Doll? She's a bit out of your league."

Dieter leans back in his chair, a sly grin forming on his face. "Out of my league, huh? That just makes it more interesting. The thrill of the chase, my friend."

His publicist raises an eyebrow, skeptical. "Dieter, I've seen you chase plenty, but this Doll is different. She's not like the others. There's an innocence about her that even your charm might struggle to crack."

Dieter smirks, undeterred. "Well, we'll see about that. The forbidden fruit always tastes the sweetest, doesn't it?"

The publicist lets out a resigned sigh. "Just remember, Dieter, not every fruit is meant to be plucked."

"What is this event even for?" Dieter counters, appraising himself as his stylist smooths the fabric of his suit, a deep emerald green number with a crisp obsidian button-down. He pouts at the mirror, glancing at his publicist and his agent behind him. "It's not the Nickelodeon Kids Choice Awards again, is it?"

"Why? So you could be caught doing blow off a toilet bowl seat like last year? I'm still doing damage control for that, you know," his agent deadpans. "You're in luck; it's the MTV Movie Awards-"

"... and this is Doll's debut, huh? Is she up for an award or something?"

"Several, actually. Surprisingly, her last film gained quite the following-"

"... let me guess, it's some rom-com," Dieter interjects, a hint of disinterest in his tone. "What are the categories?"

"Three, to be exact." His agent smirks into his cognac. "Best Female Lead, Female Breakout Star, and Best Kiss-"

"Best Kiss? Seriously?" Dieter retorts incredulously, his eyes widening. "What's the name of her movie? I might need to see it for myself-"

"Dieter, level with me. Are you gonna keep your dirty fucking paws off of the Shark's asset?" his publicist sighs, giving him a stern look. "As much as I want to shove my foot up his fucking ass, I don't have the energy to have him breathing down my back the entire fucking night-" he looks off into Dieter's direction, who is currently on your Wikipedia page. He frowns. "Dieter, do you hear me?"

"What?" Dieter snaps, slamming his phone onto his seat.

"Can you manage to be on your best behavior tonight? Stay clear of-"

"No. I mean, sure, fine, whatever-" Dieter interrupts, his tone dismissive.

"Dieter-"

"I heard you! I promise to stay away from her, but the real question is, are you able to keep her away from me?" He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

The (not-so meet cute) at the MTV Movie Awards.

"Dieter!" you shout, hastily making your way toward him, clearly a few drinks in. "Surprised to see you here!" you shout excitedly, a little wobble in your step as you approach him.

You adorn a sleek silver gown, your hair elegantly swept to one side, and your radiant face contrasting vividly with the venue's intense lights. Dieter finds himself momentarily breathless as he gazes at you, captivated by your ethereal presence, akin to an angel descending into the depths of hell. "Fuck me," he murmurs under his breath as you draw near, the collar around his neck suddenly feeling constrictive as he nervously swallows. "What the hell? I never get nervous around women," he mutters to himself, his eyes tracing the entirety of your figure. His pants grow notably tighter, his attention fixated on the hypnotic sway of your hips.

He greets you with a nervous smile as you come face to face, tenderly planting a kiss on your cheek. His eyes close momentarily as he savors your delicate scent, a sensation that electrifies his chest and courses through his veins, prompting his hands to instinctively caress the back of your head as he subtly tries to capture another whiff. A subtle sense of pride swells within him as he notices the blush unexpectedly blooming across your skin, its warmth cascading down your cleavage.

Forbidden fucking fruit indeed.

"Doll," he attempts to say smoothly, a hint of nervousness lacing his voice. "I've heard so much about you. Congrats on your wins tonight; they're truly well-deserved!"

"Really?" you suddenly squeal, and Dieter feels like he could get lost in your energy. It's pure, sweet, and so inherently innocent—the childlike wonder of being thrust into the limelight, untarnished by the sleazy underbelly of Hollywood. He can't help but internally frown, foreseeing the inevitable vultures in suits trying to get a piece of you. Their insatiable hunger for new, sweet flesh is something he knows all too well.

"Well, yeah, Doll, you killed it, as expected. Winning tonight and sweeping all your nominations was a given," he muses, casually leaning against his chair. As he leans towards you, a subconscious desire prompts him to take another whiff of your perfume, desperately trying to commit its essence to memory amid the haze of his coke-induced high. He can't resist burying his nose in your hair, eyes closing as he takes you in once more.

"Dieter-" you question his sudden boldness, a nervous chuckle escaping you.

"I'm sorry, baby-" he moans into your neck, his hands traveling down the length of your back. "You must tell me what the name of your perfume is, its divine-"

"Oh," you laugh as Dieter pulls you into him tighter, groaning as his hands travel dangerously close down your hips. "It's 'Missing Person' by-"

"Doll," a voice emerges from behind the two of you, accompanied by a stern clearing of someone's throat. Dieter's expression darkens as he recognizes the owner of the voice, but not before planting one final teasing kiss against your throat. With a smirk playing on his lips, he straightens up and turns to confront the perpetually annoyed yet annoyingly handsome face of the man Hollywood dubs 'The Shark'- also known as the most ruthless of publicists in all of Tinseltown, protecting his clients with an iron fist so strong no one ever thinks of crossing him.

Unless they wanted a cease and desist letter shoved so far up their assholes... without any fucking lube.

Dieter gets it, though. If he were in his shoes and he had a client like you? All sweet and pure with the face of an angel but a body curated by the Devil himself?

Well, he would fuck your brains out and make you forget your name first, but that's beside the point. The point is, he gets it, he really fucking does.

"Well well well," Dieter croons as he holds his hand up towards your publicist. "It's been a long time, Shark. Tell me, did you have to call ahead to make sure that some poor bloke's mangled testicles made it onto your plate for tonight, or did you rip someone's balls off fresh on-site?" he snarks with the raise of his eyebrow, shaking his head as your publicist stares at his outstretched hand in greeting. Dieter scoffs as he retreats his hand, placing it on his hip.

"Bravo," Your publicist grits through clenched teeth as he tries to appear as unbothered as possible. "Aren't you a little old to be here tonight? The rumors aren't true, you know. Fucking girls close to half your age doesn't keep you young, but I suppose it makes sense, considering a woman your age would know better-"

"Shark, I won't tolerate you talking like that in the presence of an actual earth-bound angel. Just because she's young doesn't mean she doesn't know right from wrong-" Dieter retorts, flashing you a smoldering smile. "... you know how to handle yourself, don't you, Doll? You don't need some uptight prick telling you what you can and cannot do, right?" he winks, a slight puff to his chest.

You visibly shiver at his cheeky insinuation, nodding. "Right," you breathe, taking a hasty gulp of your champagne. "I'm 29 years old, I don't need you defending my 'honor' like I'm some virginal maiden-"

"Well, when my client has far too many drinks in her and doesn't understand the kind of man she's in the presence of-"

"The Devil, right?" Dieter exclaims, pointing to himself. "A no-good washed-up actor who fucks anything with two legs while high off my rocker, who just so happens to be good at what I do with the Oscar in my shitter to prove it? Don't you think she knows all of this? My bare ass isn't on the front page of TMZ weekly because I'm a nobody, baby."

"Oh my god, Dieter," you gush, clapping your hands together. "I loved you in-"

"Doll," your publicist interrupts, a firm hand on your shoulder. "You have that meeting with Favreau at the Beverley Hills in 30 minutes. As much as we would love to stay and chat... we have our jobs to get to, right Doll?" your publicist says to you sweetly, his hand grazing your arm. He clears his throat, nodding at Dieter. "Bravo, it was stimulating, as always," he deadpans with a hint of finality, pulling on your elbow like a lost puppy on a leash. Dieter swallows as he witnesses your light dimming from your face, a small frown on your face as you try to remain cordial, a fake smile etched on your face.

"It was nice meeting you, Dieter," you almost whisper, pulling him into one last hug. "... maybe we'll just run into each other again soon?" You quickly whisper in his ear, and the thought of the two of you meeting up in secret thrills him to no end. His dick certainly twitches at the prospect.

Dieter takes one last whiff of your scent, his eyes closing as he wills the time to stand still, not wanting to lose the warmth radiating from your aura. He presses one last kiss on your cheek, his fingers caressing the spot as he gives you a genuine smile.

"... it wouldn't be soon enough, baby."

He gives The Shark one last salute, flipping him off once his back is toward him. “Fucking asshole cockblock,” he mutters to himself, patting his suit pocket for his little baggie of E. He pinches the baggie between his fingers, looking at its contents in silent contemplation. I guess if I can't get the girl, at least I can get the high, right?

The morning after.

Dieter is face down on his sofa in his boxers and his robe, groaning from the after-effects of his debauchery just a few hours before. As if his skull is splitting into two, he winces as he turns himself onto his back, staring aimlessly into his ceiling as his iPhone suddenly starts to go off from under him.

Sighing, he blindly reaches for his phone, one eye open as he squints into the tiny, shattered screen.

TMZ NEWS FLASH! Up-and-coming Actress who swept MTV awards show last night being groped by Resident Playboy Dieter Bravo? Her publicist sweeps in to save our New "It" Girl in Tinseltown from the grasp of the Devil himself-

Dieter scoffs as he swipes the notification away, his eyes scanning the next headline.

AP NEWS ALERT: Dieter Bravo seen kissing Rising Actress at MTV Movie Awards last night, is a new romance brewing between the Fresh-Faced Actress and Playboy Lothario Dieter Bravo?

"Dieter," his publicist groans as he walks into the room, picking up a crumpled pair of boxer briefs off the sofa, and throws himself on it, pinching the space between his eyebrows as he shakes his head. "What the hell did I tell you? Stay away from The Shark's client, don't grope her in front of him! Can't you just listen to me for once?"

"It was innocent! I kept my hands at a respectable distance from her ass," Dieter retorts, throwing his phone across the room. "I didn't even make a move—"

"That's not the point, Dieter!" his publicist spits back, pulling out his phone. "Do you realize how much this guy despises you? I'm good at my job, but The Shark? I can't go against a god—"

"You're making him out to be some untouchable—"

"...because he is untouchable, Dieter! Do you even know he's buddies with Feldman? After learning about your stunt last night, he's considering pulling you from the project."

"Please," Dieter scoffs, rolling his eyes. "They need me more than I need them! I'm practically doing them a favor, signing on to this fucking movie. They're not going to pull Dieter Bravo from a sinking ship! It's just scare tactics!"

"Yeah, well, you know what they say. The pussy is stronger than god, right?" his publicist replies, scrolling through his phone. "Feldman didn't appreciate your hands on his girl, and now he's out for blood. I warned you about this, D. Is some girl worth losing a multi-million dollar contract? Do you want to go back to doing 'surprise guest star' roles on cable TV? I heard they're thinking of rebooting 'Suits', it might be a good fit for you-"

"So what do I need to do then?" Dieter fires back, a joint between his lips. "I assume I'll be needing to make a public statement or some shit? Keep the old bastard happy?"

"It's funny you mention that D. I have an email from The Shark himself, with a list of what he wants you to say in your statement, promising he'll back the fuck off if you promise to not go within ten feet of his asset-"

"Have you ever heard of 'Missing People' perfume?" Dieter suddenly asks, taking a hit off his joint, his eyes following the thick plume of smoke as he leans back into the sofa. "Missing... Woman?" he mumbles to himself absentmindedly, licking his lips. "Fuck, what did she say it was? I need to stop going to these things blitzed out of my fucking mind-"

"Dieter, focus. Are we releasing the statement or not?"

"MARCUS!" Dieter calls out for his PA suddenly, ignoring his publicist as he grabs the phone out of his hands. "MARCUS! I NEED YOU!"

"Yes D?" Marcus responds as he rushes into the living room, pulling a fresh pack of Kitkat out of his back pocket. "Did you need a snack?"

"Have you ever heard of 'Missing Someone' perfume?" he asks once more as he pulls up the Safari app on his publicist's phone.

"You mean 'Missing Person' by Phlur?" Marcus quips, picking up the stray pieces of discarded clothing strewn randomly around the room. “One of my favorite actresses just became the spokesperson for that perfume, swears by it-“

“Missing PERSON, that’s what it was!” Dieter shouts, tossing his publicist's phone back at him. “Marcus, you��re a fucking godsend! I knew there was a reason why I kept you around! Could you do me a small favor?”

"What do you need, D?" Marcus asks eagerly, his hand perched on his hip.

"I need you to buy me 'Missing People'. A couple of bottles, at least."

"How many is a couple?" Marcus asks with a nervous chuckle. "Five? Are you giving these out as gifts or something?"

"Maybe I could call Chriselle, and tell her you're interested in the company, there are more scents suitable for men, D," his publicist says casually, pulling out his laptop from his messenger bag. "I ran into her at Erewhon the other day, she's a big fan of your work, and couldn't stop talking about Cliff Beasts... Now, about that statement-"

"Fuck asking, just go to Neimans or Sephora or something and buy out their entire stock. Lotions and body wash and candles if it comes in that scent, too, Marcus. Go to all of the fucking Sephoras if you need to."

"... the entire stock? D, what is this for?"

"Do I pay you to ask all of these fucking questions? Don't worry about what I'm going to do with it. Just get it in my hands by the end of the day, do you think you could swing that?"

"... yes?"

Dieter takes another drag out of his joint, nodding aimlessly. "Great. Also, stop by Blicks on your way back. I need an entire arsenal and the biggest canvas they have. New brushes, too! Set up my studio and put the 'Missing People' in my bathroom, and I'll want my usual In n Out order, too."

Flustered, Marcus pulls out his phone and starts typing Dieter's requests on his notes app. Running a nervous hand through his hair, he looks at his boss once more. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Get the fuck out of my face and get to work, Marcus. Chop Chop!"

His assistant nods and scrambles out of the living room, tripping on the corner of the area rug on his way out. Dieter's publicist raises his eyebrow at the display, shaking his head as he types away on his laptop. "You know, you could be nicer to him, D. He tries hard to cater to your every fucking whim and fancy... now, are we gonna release that fucking statement or not?"

"What statement?" Dieter asks absentmindedly as he pulls out a small baggie from his robe pocket.

"The one where you say that you had a little too much to drink and that you didn't mean anything by groping Doll at the Movie Awards, and that you're really sorry and will be donating a couple thousand to a women's shelter-"

"... and this will make The Shark happy? and Feldman off my ass?" he replies, rubbing his gums as he smiles to himself. "I'll be able to stay on the project?"

"You can start packing your bags, yes. Filming starts in a week for the next few months in Europe. It'll give this whole Movie Awards nonsense some time to blow over."

Dieter considers this for a moment. He sticks his tongue out in contemplation, coming to the unsettling realization that he hasn't been in a major studio project in the last few years. He needs this job more than they need him, and deep down, he knows this. He takes one last drag out of his joint, flicking the roach away as he turns towards his publicist.

"Release the fucking statement."

His publicist nods, fingers flying across the keyboard. "Good," he murmurs, genuine relief softening his features. "I can't handle you out of work for another month, not after the fucking pandemic... What's the deal with all that perfume, anyway?"

"What?" Dieter replies absentmindedly, scratching his beard.

"The stuff you made Marcus buy in bulk," his publicist clarifies.

"Forget the perfume. Do you still have those photos I sent you?"

"I've got them, but I haven't checked them out yet. Why?"

Dieter gestures toward the laptop. "Why don't you take a look?"

His publicist eyes him warily, opening the email. His expression shifts to shock as he glimpses the contents. "Is this—"

Dieter nods, a smirk creeping onto his face. "Yep."

"This is huge, Dieter. How did you even get these? They're screwed if this ever goes public—"

"That's why it's payback time. A little warning shot," Dieter interrupts, leaning forward eagerly. "We leak the photos. Anonymously, of course."

"Dieter," his publicist warns, "If they trace it back to you—"

"I'll take the risk. They messed with the wrong guy," Dieter scoffs, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "These amateurs think they can get away with it?" he mutters to himself, then clears his throat. "Remember our motto?"

"Nobody fucks with Dieter Bravo."

Dieter leans back on the sofa, nodding. "That's right. Nobody fucks with Dieter Bravo."

Six Months later.

"Hi, I'm Carol Cobb!"

"... and I'm Dieter Bravo!"

"And we are doing a Wired Autocomplete Interview!"

"Alright! Is Dieter Bravo..." Carol energetically rips the first sheet of paper off her card, a playful smile spreading across her face as Dieter looks attentively at the camera. "Is Dieter Bravo dead?!" She bursts into laughter, smacking Dieter with the card, who simply shrugs. "Wow! Why would they hit us with that right out of the gate?"

"Not dead yet!" Dieter exclaims, pushing his signature glasses off his face while gazing into the camera. "Got close... several times," he adds with a pointed smirk.

"...and we are very much thankful for that!" Carol shouts. "Shall we move on to the next one?" She tears the next slip of paper, her eyes widening as she reads, “Is Dieter Bravo secretly married?!”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a secret if I spilled the beans now, would it?” Dieter smiles conspiratorially, rubbing his chin in contemplation.

“I can't imagine you ever settling down,” Carol muses with a smirk. "It seems unnatural, like going against the natural order of things, like sea animals on land. Dieter Bravo, settled down with one girl? Hell would have to freeze over before that ever happens," she teases.

"I think it could happen," Dieter says matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest as he settles back into his seat.

"What could happen?" Carol asks, her curiosity piqued.

"Settling down. Getting married, perhaps... even starting a family," Dieter replies thoughtfully.

"It would take quite the woman to make 'The Great Lothario' change his ways. Seems like an impossible feat," Carol interrupts, chuckling. "A woman who can stop the great Dieter Bravo from his manwhoring ways? Maybe someone who lives under a rock and doesn't know about your reputation."

"Actually," Dieter interjects, a hint of excitement in his voice. "I think I've met someone recently who's made quite an impression on me."

Carol's eyes widen in surprise. "What do you mean, you think you've met someone? Who is this mysterious girl that's captured your attention, D?"

"Well, she's an actress-"

"Of course," Carol quips with a knowing smirk.

"... she's new. I had the pleasure of meeting her at the MTV Movie-"

"You're not talking about Doll, are you? The woman you groped after meeting her for the first time? Someone even said that they caught you sniffing her! Who does that, Dieter?!"

"I am a connoisseur of all things exquisite and beautiful, ma chérie. She smelled absolutely divine, and I swear her scent lingered on me for days after, I swear, just let me nuzzle my face in between the valley of those luscious tits-"

"God, D. I think they're gonna have to edit this shit out!" Carol mutters, looking embarrassed by Dieter's boldness. She leans towards Dieter. "I thought you signed some embargo with The Shark promising you wouldn't mention her," she whispers in his ears. "Even I wouldn't think to fuck with him-"

"Well, Feldman was my main concern, and now he's facing jail time for all of those underage claims and those leaked photos, so fuck it!" Dieter counters, knowing damn well he worked behind the scenes for it to happen, leaking a few photos he had stored away on his iCloud, kissing himself on the mouth knowing it would come in handy sooner or later.

AP NEWS ALERT: Hollywood bigshot arrested for leaked inappropriate images from an anonymous source of various actresses, denies all allegations of misconduct.

One asshole down, one Shark to bury next, he thinks to himself, chuckling at the thought. "Besides, I can't get her out of my fucking mind! I've never felt this way about a woman before, Carol, I mean it this time!"

"I mean, she's undeniably beautiful," Carol agrees, "but she's still new to the industry. They've been typecasting her in those romcoms with whatshisname, but I've heard she's pushing for more challenging roles—"

"Cut!" The director's voice slices through the air, his eyes narrowed at them both. "This interview is about promoting Cliff Beasts, not discussing Dieter's love life with some woman."

"Hey, that 'woman'? She's my future wife, so watch your damn mouth," Dieter snaps back, his tone defensive.

"Whoa, D, hold on. Future wife? You barely know her!" Carol interjects, her hand pressed against her chest in disbelief. "Take it easy, baby. Get to know her first, at least."

"It's gonna happen, Carol. I can feel it in my damn bones. I was drawn to her the moment I laid eyes on her," Dieter insists, his confidence unwavering.

"Listen, Casanova, I don't care who you think you're gonna marry, but we're on a tight schedule here!" the director interrupts, frustration evident in his voice. "Stick to the damn questions, and no more talk about your little 'girlfriend.'"

"Fine," Dieter mutters, rolling his eyes and taking a sip of water. "But do me a favor—don't cut out the part about her assets. It'll bring in views like crazy. I did you a favor there."

The director waves him off as he storms away. "Remind me why I took this job knowing this idiot would be here," he mutters to himself, heading back behind the camera.

The day of the (not so thought out) wedding.

Dieter is anxiously bouncing his leg, biting his pinky nail as his groomer meticulously applies another layer of concealer under his darkened eyes. "Jeez D, have you been sleeping at all lately?"

"What?" Dieter asks absentmindedly, running a shaky hand through his curls. "Yeah- I've been sleeping, why?"

“Your under-eyes, D. They’re darker than my fucking soul, man. Didn’t I tell you to lay off on the sauce? I’m on my fourth layer of concealer-“

“It’s nothing,” Dieter says dismissively. “Just… have you ever been in love?”

"Sure I have," his groomer replies, a small smile on their face. "That's why I'm married, silly. Why?"

"Say you like a girl, and you think that this girl might be interested but then TMZ posts leaked photos of said girl and some beefed up Hollywood hunk "canoodling" with each other while filming their movie together in Canada-"

"This is Doll that we're talking about, correct? The one you groped at the MTV Movie-"

"I DIDN'T GROPE HER!" Dieter exclaims, groaning as he sinks further into his seat. "Why does everyone keep saying that? I was simply giving her a friendly, yet casual hug when she APPROACHED ME-" He huffs like a petulant child, his arms crossed around his chest in defiance. "Anyway, I thought, after I desperately tried to shoot my shot, let my intentions known in that 'Wired' Interview with Carol, that she would contact me, you know? Maybe slide into my DMs-"

“Slide into your DMs?” His groomer scoffs, plucking a stray eyebrow hair with their tweezers from his face as he dramatically flinches, narrowing his eyes at them. “You flat out said you wanted to smother your face in the ‘valley of her luscious tits’, I would be surprised if she hasn't filed a restraining order against you yet... Let me give you a bit of advice: Girls want to be romanced, not objectified! ... have you ever had a 'real' girlfriend before, D?"

"Hey! I've had girlfriends, alright?" Dieter groans, frustration evident in his voice as he clenches his fists. "Just because they didn't stick around afterward doesn't mean it was all my fault, okay?"

"The girls you hook up with during your benders and then discard once the high wears off don't exactly qualify as 'real' girlfriends, D! Let's be serious here!"

"That's what I'm trying to be," he whines, "I'm trying SO HARD to be serious for once! I can't get this girl out of my head, and it's been what? Almost a year since I've met her? I can't get my dick hard when I'm with anyone else anymore, I don't want to take drugs, it's like I'm fucking broken or something! ... and now she's off fucking Joe Hollywood over here like I'm not bleeding my fucking heart out for her-"

"Wait, you mean to tell me that you're actually sober right now?"

"Well, yeah. The last time I took something was before filming Cliff Beasts, I thought you knew that. Anyway, it doesn't fucking matter. All of that and she doesn't even notice me."

"Well, I would tell you that if you had bothered to read TMZ this morning instead of sulking, you would know that there are split rumors between this girl and Hollywood neanderthal," His groomer retorts, a shit-eating grin on their face. "It was over before it even began. I mean, I've heard for such a massive man, he has quite the tiny di-"

Dieter perks up at that. "Say that again."

"They've broken up. She's back on the market, silly goose."

"So that means-"

"That means that I'm going to groom the shit out of you and help you out by making her realize just what she's missing out on, D." His groomer replies, massaging his scalp as they make eye contact through the mirror in front of them. "You're lucky that I consider myself a hopeless romantic. If you promise not to break her heart, I'll help you get the girl, ok?"

"Shit, do you think she'll like me?" Dieter says nervously, fidgeting in his seat.

"Obviously," his groomer replies cryptically, a smirk forming on the corner of their mouth. "I may or may not have some intel from another groomer friend of mine about their supposed breakup."

"Oh?" Dieter perks up, his eyebrow raised in curiosity. "... and what would that intel be?"

"Oh, you know. Someone might have asked their stylist if they think you'll be attending tonight, how she kept trying to be sly about it."

"Doll asked about me?! Are you serious?" Dieter's excitement is palpable.

"Well, according to my friend, the reason why they broke up was that someone might have moaned your name while being eaten out by 'Joe Hollywood' the other day-"

"No fucking way!"

"She's into you, D! I would say that your little ploy during the 'Wired' interview worked more than you think, bud."

Dieter nods, taking the biggest sigh of relief as he settles in his chair. "One last thing, do you groom just the top half of me, or are you open to grooming other places?"

"What do you mean?" his groomer cocks their head to the side.

"Shit, well... are you open to grooming my nether regions? It's been a while since I've been with a woman, I'm almost full caveman down there-"

His groomer tsks, pulling out their phone. "Dieter, as much as I love you, I don't love you that much. Let me call someone for that, ok?"

A few hours later, on the red carpet.

"Dieter," his publicist says under his breath as they walk down the red carpet. "The cameras are this way, why are you so distracted?"

"I'm looking for someone," Dieter replies as he winks at the sea of paparazzi, flashing them a peace sign as he walks toward the venue's entrance.

"Well, who are you looking for?" His publicist replies impatiently, looking down the red carpet.

"Doll, obviously. Do you know if she's arrived yet?"

His publicist rolls his eyes, sighing. "She arrived about five minutes ago, don't you see her?"

Dieter inhales deeply, his gaze scanning past the vibrant red carpet until it locks onto yours. His breath catches in his chest, surprised by the unexpected connection. You appear taken aback at first, but swiftly compose yourself, subtly angling your body towards him with a seductive smile playing on your lips.

"Holy Shit..." Dieter's mind races with excitement. "She really does want me."

Filled with newfound confidence, he playfully purses his lips in your direction, sending a cheeky kiss your way as his eyebrows wiggle in amusement. A flush of color blooms across your cheeks in response, catching his eye. But as he revels in the moment, he notices The Shark's gaze narrowing in his direction, a whisper passing between him and you.

That's fucking right Shark. I'm coming for my girl, and there is nothing you can fucking do about it.

Later, Dieter observes you from across the room as you sit at your table, alone, nursing another glass of champagne. He notices how you try to avoid meeting his gaze, despite catching you stealing glances at him throughout the night when you think he isn't looking. It surprises him to see you being so reserved, so quiet, especially without The Shark hovering around you like a protective dragon guarding its treasure.

What's gotten you so down, babydoll? he muses, leaning back into his chair. As if you could read his thoughts, your eyes meet from across the room once more, and you quickly look away, smiling to yourself at getting caught looking.

Dieter senses the moment's significance, his heart racing with anticipation. He knows he must seize this opportunity, the perfect moment to step forward and break the barrier between the two of you. With a determined smile, he decides it's time to make his move.

As he rises from his chair, Dieter's confidence swells, fueled by the intensity of the moment. With purposeful strides, he crosses the room, his gaze fixed on you, the anticipation building with each step. This is his chance to bridge the gap, to finally reveal the feelings he's kept hidden for so long.

He draws in another deep breath as he approaches you from behind, mustering his most seductive gaze as he leans in towards your exposed ear, his warm breath grazing your skin.

"I can't help but notice that you've been eye-fucking me the entire night."

He groans softly as he takes a seat in the chair beside yours, hoping to conceal any nerves as he attempts to exude charm. "I guess my little ploy of trying to get your attention with that 'Wired' interview worked out in my favor-"

You respond with a subtle smile, your fingers gracefully tracing the edge of your champagne glass. How does something as simple as that manage to rile me up? he wonders inwardly, returning your smile.

"You know," you say softly, a chuckle escaping you as you shake your head in disbelief, "There are more normal ways to get a girl's attention-"

The longer Dieter spends in your presence, the more he feels himself on edge, the tension mounting with every passing moment. His pulse quickens, and he can't ignore the growing semi in his suit pants. It's astonishing how much you affect him, like a siren calling out for him while lost at sea, lying in wait, ready to bring him to absolute ruin.

Fuck. Keep it cool, Bravo.

"Ah, but you're America's Sweetheart, and your pitbull of a publicist won't let me near you, I had to let my-" he gulps at the sight of your ample bust, licking his lips in anticipation, "... intentions very clearly known."

"Well," you breathe, chest heaving. "I don't know if it's 'clearly' known," your voice drops to a whisper, like a secret that is shared only between the both of you, two lonely souls amongst a sea of chaos. "I think you're just going to have to spell it out for me."

Dieter, sensing victory, leans back triumphantly, spreading his legs as he subtly encloses you within his space. His dark, smoldering gaze meets your thinly veiled attempt at your best innocent doe eyes... but Dieter sees right through it. He grins widely, reveling in the knowledge that he's the cat about to get all of the cream—your cream. That's right, babydoll, I've finally caught you, and I'm never going to let you go.

He laughs at the sight of you, his chin motioning to your breasts. "Do you want to have sex with me, Dollface?"

Your eyes widen, and a small gasp escapes your lips, as you search his gaze, trying to decipher if he's just bullshitting or if he's actually fucking serious. I'm serious, alright, he chuckles to himself. "If I miscalculated this fucking thing that's going on between us, tell me and I'll fuck off, leave you alone-"

"What if I don't want you to fuck off, and want to tell you that I'm this close to being plastered and that all I kept thinking about tonight is you railing me with that huge cock we both know is aching for me in some deserted hallway-" you challenge, picking your champagne glass for good measure, downing its contents in one swig. For courage, he thinks. "I would beg to ask you... what's taking you so damn long, Bravo?"

WhatsApp chat between Dieter & Marcus: Dieter: Hey Marcus, are you still in the venue? Marcus: Yes! With your publicist. Did you need something? Dieter: This party blows. Can I borrow your car? Marcus: Oh, did you want me to drive you home? The party just started, Dieter. Dieter: I can drive myself back, stay for the party! Catch a ride with the suits afterward! Get shitfaced, you're officially off the clock! Marcus: Seriously? Do you know how to drive a stick? It's my baby, I don't know if I feel comfortable with you driving it, are you high right now? 🤦‍♂️ Dieter: No, for the last time, I'm fucking clean, man. Just do me a solid and let me borrow your car, I swear I'll give you a fucking raise! What do you want for one night with your baby? Tell me, I'll give you anything! Marcus: Fine. Just tell me what you did with all of that fucking perfume, there"s a bet going on and I would like to shove it in your publicist's face that I know! Dieter: Seriously man? That's all you want? Marcus: Do you want my keys or not, D? Dieter: Fine. I took the fucking perfume, doused my entire bedroom in it, and fucked myself smelling it thinking about Doll. Dieter: Is that enough of an explanation for you? Come the fuck on, man, I need your car! Please! 🙏 Marcus: 🙌 Meet me at the lobby in five.

"So tell me," Dieter shouts as he peels out of the parking lot, laughing at the delighted squeal that escapes your lips as you throw your head back, your arms raised upward as he turns quickly into the streets of Los Angeles. "How often did you think about me, babydoll?"

You boldly reach over to cup his erection, your small hand wrapping around the tip of it. "As much as I reckon you thought of me, Bravo. Tell me, how often did you come, alone in that massive bed of yours, to the thought of your cock thrusting into my tight pussy?"

"Fuck baby, do you want me to crash this car? It's not mine, you know?"

"Answer the fucking question, Bravo."

"Baby, if you only knew how much I fucking came just thinking about your tits... I don't think you know just what exactly you got yourself into, little girl... but I'll show you just how I thought of you coming on my fat cock, giving me absolutely everything-"

I've been hungry for you, baby, and I'm going to feast on every inch of your body, just you fucking wait-

He cackles like a madman as he peels into the dwindling streets of LA. "Are you hungry, Dollface?" he yells, almost running a red light, his eyes fixed on the glowing In n Out sign in the distance.

"I shouldn't, I have that screen test next week-"

"Fuck the screen test!" he shouts. "The night is young, and you are gorgeous. Let Dieter take care of you, baby... while I still have you in my grasp. I ain't gonna waste a moment I have you in my orbit!"

He pulls into the In n Out parking lot, cutting the engine, and pulls you into his lap, his face immediately diving into the valley between your breasts. "You can suffocate me with these tits and I would die a happy man," he mumbles against your skin, his growl reverberating throughout your entire body like wildfire. "What do you say, Doll? Would you do me the honors?"

"Fuck Dieter," you moan, tipping your head back in pleasure as his tongue teases the edge of your dress covering your breasts. "Grab my tits," you beg, grabbing his hands for good measure. Dieter wastes no time as he grabs the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss, his tongue licking along the seam of your mouth, begging for entrance.

"Open up for me, baby girl. Let Dieter taste you-" he pleads, and you pull away with him, your hair wrecked and lipstick smeared. Dieter imagines he looks as wrecked as you do, his pupils blown and chest heaving. You pull him into another kiss, sighing into it, your mouth opening slightly. Dieter takes this as a sign to devour you completely, your tongues fighting for dominance as you begin to rock your hot pussy against his thick cock.

"I want to ride you into the sunset, D," you whisper, pulling at his curls harshly. "Are you gonna give me what I want? Or am I going to have to find someone else to do it?"

"Fuck-" Dieter pants, his gaze reaching yours, his mouth agape in awe. "How in the fuck did I get so fucking lucky-"

"Grab my tits, D," you ask once more, moaning and throwing your head back, biting your lower lip as you grind on his throbbing erection. Dieter quickly obliges, his large hands engulfing both of your breasts. His fingertips graze the edge of your dress, the hardness of your nipple pressing into the middle of his palm, and he swears that if he were to be struck down dead right at this moment, he would die a happy man.

"Shit, I knew that your tits would feel amazing, but you are so fucking soft-"

"Oh yeah?" you tease, your teeth grazing the shell of his ear. "I'm soft in other places, too." You whisper in his ear, and he swears he feels the ghost of your smile as he moves his hands back on your hips, his fingertips squeezing the softness of your ass as he angles his dick where he imagines your clit to be, thrusting into your hot, wet heat. "Fuck, so goddamn soft-" he groans, his tongue licking a wet stripe along the tops of your breasts. "You're fucking everything I never knew I always wanted, baby girl," he praises you honestly, cupping your cheek as he pulls you into another kiss, groaning as your tongue dances with his, leaving him breathless.

"Am I?" you pant as you wrap your arms around his neck, your pussy dragging along the thick outline of his cock. "You talk like you want to marry me or something-"

"... oh, but I do want to marry you, breed you, keep you locked up in my mansion... you have no idea just how much I've thought about you, these last few months-"

"Dieter! My Man!" someone shouts in the distance. "What the fuck are you doing here?!"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he yells back, "I'm about to fuck this beautiful woman in an In n Out parking lot, what are you doing here?"

"Fuck, can I take a pic, man?" the fan shouts as he approaches the convertible.

"Don't you see we're a little preoccupied?" you shout at the fan, flicking him off. "Get the fuck out of here!" you shout.

The fan quickly takes a shot of the both of you with his iPhone, a half-hearted apology mumbled out of his mouth as he quickly runs back inside of the restaurant, probably to the group of men who are completely unaware of the two celebrities dry-humping the fuck out of each other in their wake, eating their double-doubles and sneaking sips out of a cup filled with some cheap ass vodka, fist-bumping the night away.

"Are you gonna come in those Gucci pants of yours, D?" you tease, your pace quickening as you ride his dick relentlessly. "How does it feel having America's Sweetheart getting you to come in your pants, baby?"

"Fuck," Dieter pants, his hand wrapping around your neck as he pushes you against the steering wheel, angling the tip of his cock against your clit. "How does it feel to get fucked by The Devil, sweetheart? Your pussy is begging me to just rip those fucking panties off and just claim you, right in front of all of these fucking people-"

You shiver at that, a choked curse and his name out of your mouth as he sees the entirety of your body begin to quiver and shake.

"Don't fight it, baby, I know you fucking like the attention, I know you want everyone to see how much of a bad fucking girl you are inside... but don't worry, Dieter knows, and I'll help you show them," he pulls you against him harshly, your chest pushed up against his, as his teeth sink at the hollow of your neck. "I'll get the world to see just who you really are, baby. Let me show you the way-"

You scream as he thrusts into you once more as he rips your orgasm out of you violently, crying out into his neck as Dieter explodes into his Gucci trousers, the mixture of your slick and his thick cum making an absolute mess of his loaned suit.

I guess I'll have to pay for these, Dieter thinks to himself as he cradles your shaking form into his arms, licking away the salty tears running down your face. "You did so good, Doll, don't cry-" he whispers, stroking the back of your head as he tries to get you to calm down. "What do you need, baby?"

You lie quietly against his chest, your breaths falling into rhythm with his, as he assumes you're simply gathering your thoughts. "Baby," he pleads softly, his hands tracing soothing paths along your exposed back. "Please, say something—"

"Marry me," you whisper against his chest, the words barely audible but filled with undeniable certainty.

Dieter freezes, his heart skipping a beat at your unexpected words. For a moment, he's speechless, his mind racing to catch up with the sudden turn of events. Slowly, he lifts his head to meet your gaze, eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

"What did you say?" he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid that speaking any louder might shatter the fragile moment.

You lift your head, meeting Dieter's stunned gaze with unwavering determination. "I said, marry me," you repeat, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart. "Let's take this car and drive it to Vegas, get married by some overweight Elvis impersonator, and book the honeymoon suite at the Cosmo... I don't care how we do it, but let's get fucking married, D!"

Dieter's mind whirls with a mix of emotions—astonishment, disbelief, and a profound sense of joy. He blinks several times, as if trying to confirm that he's not dreaming, before a wide grin spreads across his face.

"Oh, my God," he breathes, his voice trembling with emotion. "Yes. Yes, a thousand times yes."

Taglist:@yxtkiwiyxt @skysmiller @picketniffler @readingiskeepingmegoing @islacharlotte @drewharrisonwriter

@missladym1981@amyispxnk@thespookywookies@stevie75@mysterious-moonstruck-musings

@daydream-believer19@survivingandenduring@darkheartgatita @gobaaby-blog-blog

#the new girl in tinseltown #pedro pascal #dieter bravo #the bubble fanfiction #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x you #dieter x reader #dieter bravo x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo fluff

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judeswhore · 11 months

Note

aquarium date with jude!!! like going to that one in Birmingham when u go home and u walk under that tunnel 🥹

teehee i actually wrote a little thing abt this ages ago that was meant to be part of a fic but then i scrapped the fic so i’m gna post it here it really isn’t much but <3

jude tangled his fingers with yours, swung your hands back and forth between your bodies as the two of you walked through the small glass tunnel. everything was bathed in dark blue from the water that surrounded you and the darkness cast shadows across jude's face, made his lashes look unnaturally long over the tops of his cheeks. he turned to press his nose into the top of your head, kissed your hairline as he pulled you closer.

"you die and can come back as any sea creature. which one are you choosing?" his voice was low, soft and quiet in your ear and you grinned when he smattered teasing kisses over your cheek. for a few seconds you stayed silent, gazing around the tunnel in thought and he dropped your hand to throw his arm over your shoulder, tucking you tight into his side. "you can't choose shark."

"why not?" you tried to tilt your head and meet his gaze, pout evident but you were pressed so close together you couldn't. needing that extra bit of contact (as if being glued to his body wasn't enough) you reached for the hand that was dangling over your shoulder, laced your fingers together and squeezed.

"because you choose sharks for everything. be more creative."

"s'not my fault they're so cute." you'd stopped walking, turned to face the glass wall so you could watch the jellyfish bob by. your free arm wrapped around around his waist as he tucked you firmly under his arm. you knew your physical affection was probably annoying to everyone passing by but this was the first time you'd seen your boyfriend in three weeks, you were making the most of it.

"cute? they're murderous."

"only if you make them mad. they're just misunderstood."

"you're ridiculous." jude knocked his fingers under your chin. "you didn't answer me, what would you be." you nodded towards the glass in front of you, pressed your finger against it as you traced the shape of the jellyfish swimming just in front of you.

"a jellyfish."

"yeah? why?" you gave a small shrug at first, humming softly at the trail of kisses jude was leaving over your head. you tapped once lightly on the glass.

"they're cute, y'know? and when they're in a group they're called a bloom which is kinda pretty. plus, scientists think they're older than dinosaurs so technically i'd be older than dinosaurs." in the reflection of the glass you could see jude's soft smile, his gaze tracking the jellyfish in front of you.

"really?"

"uh huh." you untangled yourself from him, turning so the two of your were face to face and lifted your chin to meet his eyes. they were soft and loving, glinted in the faint blue light and it was unfair how pretty he was all of the time. "they haven't got skeletons so you can't really find any fossils but scientists think they've been around for at least three times the age of dinosaurs. they're ancient."

"and deadly." jude's hands had found your hips and he tugged you into him, smoothed his palms along the dip of your waist. your own hands fiddled with the front of his jacket, fixed his collar as he watched you with soft eyes.

"they're probably one of the most deadly animals on earth."

"hmm, they remind me of you." your nose scrunched at that, brows drawing together in confusion as you eyed him. he just grinned, glanced between you and the floating jellyfish.

"how?"

"tiny, pretty, not to be messed with." a laugh blew past his lips when you whacked his arm, your glare only adding to his amusement. "see, deadly." with an eye roll you glanced back at the surrounding water, watched the small creature bop over the top of the tunnel. jude couldn't keep his eyes off you, gaze tracking the smooth skin of your throat, your lips that he'd kissed free of gloss and he wanted to tuck you away in his chest, kiss you some more until he couldn't breathe.

"some of them are immortal y'know."

"hmm?" he'd been too busy thinking about kissing you he worried he'd misheard but you nodded, slid your hands around his waist and stepped in a little closer to him.

"there's a species of jellyfish that are technically immortal. their real name is turritopsis dohrnii." your face lit up as you as you began to ramble, facts falling from your lips as thought it was something everyone should know and it left him mesmerised. "their life spans across three stages, they start as a polyp and then they become an ephrya which i suppose is a teenager and then they become an adult medusa. the water really determines how well they develop. if it's too cold or too hot or even if they're injured they sink back to the ocean floor and become a polyp all over again. so yeah, technically, if you think about it they're-"

jude cut you off when his mouth covered yours, soft yet a little demanding, a quiet "umph" of surprise tickling across his lip. he kept you in place with his grip on your cheeks, one hand sliding around the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer so he could lick into your mouth. it was maybe inappropriate, there were families everywhere, but he couldn't help himself. you were so cute when you rattled off facts it made his chest ache with a burning neediness. you pulled at his shirt, kissed him back just as eagerly and he bit back a moan when you tugged at his bottom lip.

pulling away he kept his forehead pressed to yours, watched you take a shuddering breath, your smile a little dreamy before he pecked the corner of your lips.

"what was that for?"

"you're just so pretty when you get all smart on me." he kissed you again, brief and chaste but still soft enough to draw goosebumps along your arms. his thumb smoothed across your chin, found your bottom lip and pressed down lightly, only to let it spring back into place. "how do you know so much about jellyfish?"

your shrug was sheepish, cheeks hot under his palms and he knew his attention and compliments were to blame. the fact he was crowding your space and towering over you probably had something to do with it as well. it was endearing how flustered he could get you with only a few words and a certain heated look.

"i did online summer courses in marine biology before my first year of uni. i read a lot of books about the ocean." your nose scrunched again, gaze dropping from his because a small part of you felt slightly embarrassed by the confession. jude was having none of that however, his head dipping again as he nudged your chin upwards. his mouth caught yours in one last kiss, this one lingering a little longer than the one before.

"you're adorable, y'know that?" he brushed his nose against yours, soft and loving and his eyes held everything that his words didn’t say. “my own little jellyfish.”

#hey jude :)#jude bellingham #leigh’s baby blurbs #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #sinclaiirs baby blurbs

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yanderecrazysie · 4 months

Text

Galeophobia (Kirishima)

Please don’t request any phobias. I just felt like making this for fun.

Be kind to me, I'm still not good at writing NSFW

Title: Galeophobia

Pairings: Kirishima Eijirou x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, mershark Kirishima, pirate reader, marking, NSFW, NON-CON, belly bulge, excessive cum

Phobia: The fear of sharks

Normally, the setting sun is something that makes you smile, its beautiful pink-and-orange hues are a feast for the eyes. Here and now? It feels as though it is taunting you as your water sloshes over the deck of your sinking ship.

How can nature be so beautiful, yet so cruel?

The storm is completely gone- there’s no sign that it ever happened. No sign, save for one wooden ship taking on water. The jolly rogers above you wave feebly in the light wind before crumbling in on themselves as even the air falls silent. You sigh wearily.

After all the danger you’d put yourself in to get rich, sinking serenely in the middle of calm waters, all of your comrades having fled on lifeboats. Leaving the captain to go down with the ship.

It’s a dumb tradition that the pirates of your country take part in, you thought dully, so why did I bother following it? You wished you weren’t quite so honorable.

The water ripples below your lazy perch on the ship’s front railings, now reaching past the deck and slowly inching towards you. Somewhere off in the distance, you see something shimmer in the sunset’s pink-tinged water.

You squint, confused, as something bright red begins rising in the clear water right below you, on the end of your ship and the open ocean. Water breaks at the surface as the crimson object reveals itself to be spiky hair on the head of a handsome tan-skinned man with equally-red, intense eyes.

At first, you think he must be dead. After all, how else could there be someone out here in the middle of the ocean, unless they were from a ship already sunken below? But no, the man gazes at you with a lively expression, smiling brightly at you as though he’s never been so happy to see someone else.

The next conclusion fills you with hope: there must be land nearby! Surely he had swum from an island to your ship. But how far away was it? You look in every direction and see nothing but water.

“Where do you come from?” You ask urgently, “It’s not too far is it? I’m not a strong swimmer.”

The man laughs loudly, “Don’t worry, I got you, babe.”

You wrinkle your nose at the pet name but hold your tongue. After all, this redhead was the only thing between you and the bottom of the ocean.

He holds out his arms as though he’s ready to catch you, “Come on down, babe. I don’t bite. Much.”

He flashes you a smile and you gasp. His teeth are unnaturally sharp and triangular, nothing like a human’s. For the first time, you feel a sense of foreboding and your heart pounds in your chest.

Your gaze falls below his bare abs under the water and you’re shocked to see that instead of bare legs, there’s gray and white smooth skin that ends in a sharp fish tail. From the shape and the earlier glance at his teeth, you surmise he’s some sort of shark merman. Not human, in any case.

“What are you?” You shriek, wrapping your arms around your legs protectively, all too aware of how close the water was to you now.

The shark-man grins, flashing those sharp teeth at you once more, “My name’s Kirishima. What’s yours, babe?”

“Stay away from me, you fish freak!” You seethe, pulling your compass from your pocket and heaving it at him as hard as you can. It bounces off his chest with a thunk but he doesn’t so much as flinch. “Wait until after I’ve drowned to eat me!”

Kirishima sighs, a soft pout to his features as he tells you, “List babe: you’re either coming down on your own or you’re going to sink.”

The reality of the situation dawns on you just as you feel water licking at your toes. You were going to be eaten by this half-shark, half-man creature. All that would be left of you would be your bones on the bottom of the ocean, alongside your trusty ship.

Hot tears prick your eyes as you let yourself slide off the railing into the water. If my death is coming, then let it be quick, you thought sadly.

Kirishima blinks in surprise before a smile spreads across his face. This time, his lips are pulled over those vicious teeth, and you can’t help but think it’s a little cute. He reaches his hand out to brush away a few stray tears, but that just causes more to spill.

Strong arms wrap around you and you close your eyes, ready for death. It doesn’t come. Instead, Kirishima nuzzles into your neck, cooing softly into your ear as he holds you close.

He pulls you away from the sinking ship, most of which is already underwater. Your first and only ship- you feel more tears slip down your cheeks. It’s gone now, there’s no getting it back.

“Shh, it’s alright, babe.” Kirishima shushes you softly as he swims farther away, tugging you along through the water. You shiver in his grasp and he takes notice, stopping immediately to run his hands over your body, “Oh man, you’re cold all over.”

The grin that cracks across his face is mischievous and predatory at the same time, “I know how to fix that.”

Something cold and hard brushes against your butt and your heart stops all together before it starts up tenfold again. Don’t tell me he means…

Incredibly sharp teeth pierce through the skin on your neck and you let out a scream. Warm blood pools on the surface as he sucks gently before releasing with a pop. He takes a look at his handiwork- at the wound swelling on your neck- and has the audacity to look proud.

Kirishima presses against you as he begins peeling your clothes from your skin. Something very large and very hard pokes against your thighs and, although you cannot see it, you already have an idea of what it is. Curiosity has you briefly wondering if it looks like a human’s or not.

You don’t have a chance to look down at it from the angle he’s holding you but, once he tears your pants from your body in a violent, eager motion, you quickly get to know what it feels like. It seems to be shaped the same as any human male’s dick, but it’s much larger than what you thought was possible.

The bulbous head pushes against your unguarded pussy, pressing and pressing until pop- it forces its way inside. You expected unimaginable pain, but you’re instead overrun with pleasure.

The cock fills you out with each inch shoved deeper. It stretched your insides out and, when you look down, you see a visible bulge in your stomach. He’s crammed into you so much your little human body can barely take it.

Kirishima holds you still while he forces his shark cock deeper and deeper. The bulge in your belly is bigger than ever when he comes to a stop. Unconsciously, your hand moves and puts a hand over the bump in your stomach and you hear the man behind you moan with pleasure as you accidentally massage his cockhead.

The thrusts begin, more brutal than you could ever anticipate. Kirishima uses his arms to keep you in place while he fucks into you, tearing apart your vagina and womb easily with his monster cock.

You writhe with pleasure, barely able to move from your positioning but trying all the same. It’s all too much- his dick is pressed up against every nerve and pleasure spot you have, each thrust hits all the right places.

Kirishima grabs your hips and bend your body a little, moving you into a position where he can fuck you even deeper and harder. It isn’t long before you come undone on his cock, twitching and spasming from the intense pleasure he’s giving you.

Your pulsating walls prove to be too much for the redhead, and he follows you shortly after. His cum floods your insides, inflating your belly a little around the bulge and filling you so completely that some escapes around his cock and into the water around you, making the water turn more milky than clear.

Your eyes roll back in your head as he rolls his hips, getting out those last few drops of cum. His giant cock finally softens and slips out, dirtying the water even more with the cum that escapes your stuffed-full womb.

“Yeah, I’m keeping you.” Kirishima says, grinning widely as he pulls you close. You don’t bother fighting it as he gives a kick of his tail and takes off swimming with you snug in his arms.

You can feel cum still rushing out of you as he whisks you away to wherever it is he plans to keep you.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere one shot #one shot #yandere my hero academia #my hero academia #yandere kirishima #kirishima eijirou #tw noncon

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lilyrizzy · 5 months

Text

day 2 of the 12 days of Christmas maxiel advent calendar for @catofthecanals289!

"What are you reading?"

Max had been expecting this or some other conversation starter from Daniel. Since climbing into bed to find Max ignoring him in favour of his book, he's been making a big show of 'getting comfy'. It’s involved a lot of dramatic sighing, rearranging the bed covers and wriggling, all of which Max has been stubbornly ignoring.

He is just getting to the interesting part.

"A book," he says not lifting his eyes from the page, then just to be an asshole, "You know, the paper that has words on which tell a story?"

Of course, Daniel knows really. On his bedside table there is his own stack of books that range from the biographies of UFC fighters filled with bloody tales of victory, to the romance novels that he and Victoria post back and forth, and then spend hours discussing on the phone when they have both finished.

"Wow, really?" Daniel says sarcastically, as his toes poke Max's calf under the covers. Then, settling closer, so his head is resting on Max’s pillow, "What’s the story?"

Max sighs, resting the book open on his chest so as not to lose his place. Even after years together, Max still hasn't become immune to the way Daniel can so easily steal all his attention, making it impossible to focus on anything or anyone else. Since he started talking Max has already read the same sentence three times over.

It is of course, not very fair because Max had warned Daniel that he wanted to finish this chapter tonight, but Max finds that, like always, he isn't really annoyed. It is just so typical of Daniel to now demand his undivided attention.

Maybe this is payback for all the blow jobs Max initiates while he is having ‘important’ phone conversations with his Enchanté people, though Daniel never seemed to mind much at the time.

"It is a mystery book," Max says simply, then, "a scary one, so of course you will not like it."

Daniel makes an indignant noise of protest.

"Woah, come on mate," he says, his soft brown eyes wide on Max’s face as his head tilts up to look at him. Now, it is firmly rested on Max's shoulder, Daniel inching closer by the second. "I've got balls of steel, nothing scares me."

Max doesn't need to say, except sharks, and dogs, and coming out of the closet, because his raised eyebrows do it for him. Daniel rolls his eyes, but he does relent a little.

"Well, okay,” he allows, "whatever. But a little book can't scare me."

Taking in the stubborn look on Daniel’s face, Max can’t help the way his lips twitch upwards. Daniel’s toes have stopped prodding, and are now just rubbing gently up and down Max’s leg, catching the hair there against the grain. Daniel’s own legs are buttery smooth from his waxing appointment earlier today. Max knows because nuzzled between them on the sofa as soon as Daniel got home, just had to get his mouth on them to feel how there would be nothing for his tongue to catch against for a few days, until it started to grow back.

Every change to Daniel’s body, Max wants to be the first to know it.

“Do you want sex again?” Max asks, “Is that why you are being a pest?” Then, giving into a grin, he adds, “A sex pest.”

He’s proud of his joke, then prouder when Daniel laughs so loud Sassy raises her head to glare at him from where she had been sleeping soundly at the bottom of their bed.

“Nah,” Daniel says easy, and nuzzles further into Max’s side as if to prove a point. “I just- Will you read to me?” As though sensing Max’s hesitation, he adds, “It’s been a long fucking week.”

It has. Daniel got home from Australia only a few nights ago, dead on his feet with the jet lag only to be thrown straight into Alpha Tauri’s media duties, and Max into Red Bull’s. In a few days, they will need to leave again, to fly to Barcelona for testing. The moments they manage to snatch truly for them and nobody else will become farther and farther apart again, as will the nights they get to spend in their own home, in their own bed.

“Okay,” Max relents, with this in mind, “but no interrupting all of the time with questions. The Q and A will take place at the end.”

His request will fall on deaf ears, no doubt, and Max will indulge all of Daniel’s musings like always.

“Pinky swear,” Daniel promises, and he lifts up his little finger to hook around Max’s. It’s the one with the blank space that Daniel has also promised to cover with the number ‘33,’ when they retire, to match the other. Max lifts it to his lips to kiss it, before he picks up the book to find his place again.

He still doesn’t think Daniel will like the story much, but as he shuffles down to settle his head against Max’s chest, breath fanning out over the sensitive skin of Max’s nipples, Max begins to read.

“Now imagine just beyond your peripheral vision, maybe behind you, maybe to the side of you, maybe even in front of you, but right where you can't see it, something is quietly closing in on you, so quiet in fact you can only hear it as silence. Find those pockets without sound. That's where it is. Right at this moment.

But don't look.

I didn’t.”

Max is at the beach.

There are soft grains of sand under his toes, and sunlight so strong it is blinding him as he squints out to the sea, looking. He’s walking towards the water, but even though the sand becomes damp against the soles of his feet, the vast expanse of blue seems to get further and further away.

“Max,” Daniel’s voice comes as a hushed but frantic whisper, as though carried to him on the wind. “Maxy.”

It’s then Max realises whose silhouette he is trying to make out on the horizon. He can’t see him though, no matter how much wider he tries to open his eyes against the overbearing sun, and how fast he starts to run towards it.

“Daniel!” He yells, but it’s as though the wind carries his voice the wrong way, behind him. It’s lost. “Daniel!” He tries again, but this time there is only silence in the place of his voice. Now in the water, he can make out circling objects in the shape of shark fins. His lungs burn as his feet slap wetly against the ground, slowing him down.

“Max,” Daniel’s voice is louder now, more urgent. The sharks are going to eat him, if Max doesn’t get there in time. “Maxy, baby-“

“Max, wake up.”

Max’s eyes fly open. Gone is the quicksand beneath his feet, the blazing light, and the battering wind. It’s replaced instead with the dark and warm of their bedroom. Against his side, Daniel’s body is so hot and every place they are touching is sweat sticky. Still, Max’s arms tighten around him, silently reminding himself that home means safety these days.

His heart is still hammering in his chest, but he tries to sound controlled when he lets out a sleep-stained, croaky, “Hey.”

“Sorry.” Daniel sounds guilty, and Max frowns, his brain still too cloudy with sleep to work anything out.

“What is it?”

He’s expecting to hear that one of the cats- which always become Max’s cats the moment they misbehave- has thrown up on the bed again, or maybe Max was just disturbing Daniel with his nightmare. Instead-

“Don’t laugh,” Daniel says, his voice a whisper in the dark even though there is no one else to wake up now. “Don’t- Can you go check the bathroom?”

Max rubs his eyes, blearily. A glance at the clock on his bedside table tells him it is 2 AM, so he can’t have been asleep for long.

“Check the- What? Daniel, what-“

“I think I heard something,” Daniel interrupts him, “can you just- Please, baby, can you just check no one is in there.”

For a moment, Max lies completely still, trying to catch the noise Daniel is referring to. Probably, it is one of the cats, but when Max sits up in the bed and looks down at where Daniel is curled beneath the covers with only his head poking out from beneath them, he can make out the shine of his wide, pleading eyes even in the dark.

“Is this because of the scary book?” Max asks, his eyebrows raised, “Because-“

“Max, please,” Daniel says again, a little desperately, interrupting the glory of Max’s, I told you so.

Shaking his head with a fond smile, Max swings his legs over the side of the bed and gets to his feet.

“Really, Daniel,” he says, padding towards their bathroom door, “it is very unfair that if there was a murderer in our home, you are happy to sacrifice me to them.”

What he doesn’t say is the way it is also nice, that they can find just the kind of safety they need in each other.

“Yeah, yeah,” Daniel says, trying for casual but his still slightly shaking voice gives him away, “I’ll remember to feed the beasts if you get ghost murdered.”

“Oh, it’s a ghost now?” Max muses with another laugh as he flicks on the light. He doesn’t need to look, because of course there is no one in the home apart from him, Daniel and the cats, but he makes a show of doing it anyway, to put Daniel’s mind at ease. “Well, please be quiet Mr Ghost, it is bedtime.”

As suspected, Sassy looks up at him guiltily from where she’d been sharpening her claws on the bathmat. Max leans down to pat her bum and move her along, then flicks the light off again. Just for good measure, he looks inside their wardrobe and under their bed, before getting back into it.

“The coast is clear,” Max promises, lifting up his arm for Daniel to curl back underneath. Still, he is too hot, but for a few more moments he can stand some cuddling, if it means the thundering of Daniel’s heart he can feel pressed against him begins to slow.

“The ghost is clear,” Daniel corrects, and then they both dissolve into overtired giggles. When they’ve trailed off into silence, save for the purring of Jimmy who has now joined them to see what all the excitement is about, Daniel says again, softer, “Thank you, baby.”

Max just presses a kiss to the tip of Daniel’s nose, before succumbing to his heavy eyelids, and turning over onto his side to sleep. Of course, Daniel presses himself all along the line of Max’s back, but Max doesn’t protest. He can endure a little longer.

He is about to drop off, when-

“You can’t tell anyone your stupid book scared the shit out of me, okay?” Daniel whispers, lips catching on the back of Max’s neck, making him shiver. He’ll save the follow up of that feeling for the morning.

Now, he just reaches a hand behind himself blindly in the dark, until he finds the top of Daniel’s tattooed thigh to squeeze it gently. His fingertips trace over where he knows the heart will be, without even having to look

“Of course, I will not,” he promises easily, “would not want to ruin the, what was it again? 'Balls of steel' reputation?”

Besides, there are some parts of Daniel he likes to keep all for himself.

#have some more silliness in honour of the festive season!#max/daniel #fic

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stealingyourbones · 2 years

Note

Joker had made deals before with such creatures, a part of why he was able to get away with the shit he has pulled without much consequence to himself.

Many deals made, many more to make!

“You summoned the literal King of the Infinity Realms to barter for…a blimp in the shape of your head?”, bright toxic green eyes stared him down, a flash of something in them before the child smiles at him, “a contract…a piece of you at your death?”

Boy didn’t know how to make a deal! Jokers soul was already been bought out by other beings, there was no worry about that, and with other contracts in place nearly guaranteed he would simply pop back into life to continue his path of insanity.

“Sounds like a plan spooky!”

The next time Joker came close to death, it was waking to flames, screams…and slight humming…

The first two was expected, the return of the child in the living world inside a burning warehouse was not, said child was simply sitting on crate, uncaring of the inferno that raged around him.

Toxic eyes shining through the smoke, smile wide to show off the rows of shark like teeth, “A deal is a deal, Joker, a piece of you at your death…”

There was a witty reply on the clowns tongue but all that escaped was a mumble, his tongue seemed fine as it the back of his teeth…and his mouth…his mouth that wasn’t opening. Hands scrambling across his face only to come across smooth skin where his lips should be.

“The city really takes it time answering emergencies, huh, might be to late for your next death…we can play spin the wheel next time to see what I take next or do you have any suggestions, come on, you can tell me. After all, there are going to be so many more chances to play before someone takes your soul permanently.”

Joker being tormented by Danny at a cat and mouse like chase is great. Danny just bapping the Clown Prince of Crime around and making the Joker suffer whenever he’s remotely close to death.

Eventually The Joker something, anything to take his soul other than The Ghost King. One issue: Danny marked the Jokers soul as his claim, and no other extradimensional being wants to fuck with the Ghost King’s prey.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dc comics #dpxdc #writing prompts #dp x dc prompt #bones replies #anon

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am-i-interrupting · 1 month

Text

Baby Shark | Vox x OATSH Reader

No prior knowledge of the series required other than reader is an overlord & Vox is new to Hell.

Summary: Vox has plans, big plans, that he finally tells you. Of course, this is only after he procured a hammerhead pup.

You were curious, intrigued by what Vox had in store. All you’d gotten was a slightly cryptic phone call where he’d sounded nearly giddy, promising a surprise. If you’d meet him at his home.

You waited outside the building. Vox’s home currently wasn’t too luxurious. It was rather simple but nice. He was doing well for someone who’d only been in Hell for seven years.

He’d gone up rather quickly. He started as a commercial actor. Then he’d gotten bumped up to doing guest star roles in shows. Now he was a night show host, just like he’d been in life.

You knew he was working on things. Things he wasn’t exactly telling you. He would let you read documents over his shoulder as he worked on them in his office but would never answer your questions when you asked. He would claim that you’d figure out soon enough.

Maybe this was one of those things.

He pulled up in front of the house in an electric blue thunderbird. He got out of the car and spun around as the door closed, a big grin on his face.

“You are not ready for this,” he said as he went to the passenger side.

“What is it?” you asked as you moved behind him but he turned you around.

“Go inside,” he said. “I’ll follow you in a moment.”

Your smiled at him, a bit bemused by his behavior. It was a truly rare thing to see him look and act so excited. Still, you followed his request and pulled out your copy of his key.

Going inside you were immediately confused. There was an empty aquarium against the wall which hadn’t been there before.

What exactly was he doing?

He didn’t give you long to ponder as he came inside with a basket. It was filled with blankets. Wet blankets.

He closed the door with his foot but he didn’t let it slam like he normally would. Instead it clicked softly.

He leaned the basket so it tilted towards you. “He fell asleep on the car ride,” Vox said.

You looked down in the basket and put your hands over your mouth to stop any noise from coming out. “You got a pet shark?”

His smile expanded.

“Where are you putting it?”

“In the aquarium,” he said with a motion to the new addition.

“It’s gonna get big, Vox.”

“I know, but I’ve been doing the calculations,” he said as he gently placed the basket on his coffee table. “I also have a plan. At the rate I’m currently going though, it’s only a matter of time before I can climb the ranks to be if not as high as you then almost.

“I’ve managed to get several contracted souls—“

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“—and I am currently working on pitching several movie adaptations of your books. I hope you don’t mind that I forged your signature. Getting those green lit will bring eyes on not just you but the up and coming director who you allowed to adapt your books to film. Therefore it’ll bring eyes to other works of mine and by proxy myself. Bringing in more people who are likely to be interested in a contract for certain benefits.”

“You’ve been forging my signature?”

“Unimportant.”

“You are aware you could have just asked. Why didn’t you tell me any of this? These are big things, Vox.”

“I just wanted to surprise you,” he said.

The silent “impress you” was left just that, silent and unspoken.

You shook your head as you walked closer to him. “Well, you’ve certainly succeeded,” you told him.

You grabbed onto his jacket lapels and pulled him down into a kiss. He wrapped his hands around your waist. He tugged you closer.

A tiny little yawn sounding through the air broke your embrace. You looked down at the pup. It stretched out on the wet blankets. You acted on impulse and ran your finger down it’s smooth torso. It sniffed your hand.

“And how exactly do you expect to have the space for a fully grown shark?” you asked. “Maybe it’s a land shark but they still need a lot of water.”

“I’ve been plotting some ideas,” he said. “There is an overlord or two on that darling little list of yours, isn’t there?”

You thought of your list. Your list of people who toed the line of your moral code. There was an overlord on the list. Not yet bad enough to eliminate but getting there.

“Perhaps.”

“Why don’t you let me take care of that one, hm?”

You looked back at Vox. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“And I don’t plan on it.”

It was Vox’s turn to reach out and pet the pup. He scooped it up and looked at it with awe covering his features. He had always loved sharks.

“His name is Vark,” he said as he placed the pup on a rock that sat above the water level.

Immediately though he dove underneath the water and began stretching his fins.

“Vark,” you repeated. “As in shark or bark?”

#vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader #one author two show hosts

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scaly-freaks · 6 days

Text

Wrote this on a whim. I don't know what it is exactly, but it IS Feyd-Rautha so be aware there is violence and bodily harm.

The Fremen language rolls down the back of the throat like honeydew on silk. It is a vat of unspoken secrets, a hiss in the dark, a revelation. When they cry out for their false messiah, the lie turns holy.

Spoken on the Planet of Giedi Prime, the honey turns to amber, and she is a fly trapped at its centre, forced to experience her own disintegration.

Last night, Feyd gave her a music box.

She lay curled up in a puddle of her own piss, and thought how wasteful. A stillsuit would have made much better use of it. But when the liquid crept across the floor and touched the burns on her face, her flesh cooled. She might have imagined that part. After all, when she awoke this morning, the burns were as red and as mangled as they were when Feyd-Rautha first struck them into her flesh in front of his entire family.

He left the music box beside her head.

Inside, were her mother's teeth.

He did not kill her mother. Her mother died ten years ago. But he killed her father, who carried her mother's teeth in a pouch around his neck. They were his lucky charm, he used to say, his deliverance. She'd wonder if he ever kissed them, just to remind himself what it felt like to kiss his wife all those years ago, to run his tongue over her pearly teeth and feel her laughter bubble against his lips.

Teeth are an intimate gift.

"Wakey-wakey, Fremen mouse." His voice is guttural, a corpse dragged across gravel, each word slick behind blackened teeth.

She saw him bite a chunk out of one of the Baron's hairless boys and the wound was edged with the same ebony that drips from his saliva. There was no blood. Just black, greased like tar and infected. In her worst moments, when the hallucinations have her gripped by the throat, she sees a black hole grow in his mouth, beckoning.

When her answer to his whistle is not forthcoming, his boot presses into her soft, unblemished cheek. The pressure of it forces the burns on the other to scream in protest against the dungeon floor. It looks smooth and polished, but as with everything on Giedi Prime, the potential for pain is woven in like veins through marble. The texture of it is like a hundred thousand tiny shards of glass, and her ruined skin feels the scrape of each one.

"You did not like my gift?"

"I adored your gift."

"Why have you not opened it?"

"I did not think my hands were worthy."

He pushes his boot down harder and a prolonged keen of pain is finally yanked from her bruised ribs. Rabban is easier to fool. Feyd sniffs out insult like a shark to blood. Her injuries are proof.

"You still have fight in you."

"If I lost it, I would no longer have the pleasure of your visits, my lord."

He digs his heel into the underside of her cheekbone and the agony threatens to blind her. Drool slips from her open mouth and blends in with the piss just inches away. She pictures tearing off her flesh and flames swallowing her in one fell swoop, burning too hot and too quick to cause pain. She would chew off her own tongue to end it if she could, but who would care for her mother's teeth?

"Then I will visit you again, sayyadina." The honey of the Fremen language turns to mockery and acid on Feyd-Rautha's tongue, an acerbic jumble of syllables that burn just as horribly when they fall onto her ears. "You will crumble like sand between my fingers. And you will become as they are, just another pet."

They.

The Harpies, cannibalistic and violent, eyes blank, mouths leering.

One of them draws forward, prepared with a knife, as she has done every night Feyd has come to visit. It feels like the worst of the punishment. She tenses, shivering like a leaf, and cannot form the words to beg him for this one thing and prove him right -

That she is breakable.

Please don't cut my hair. My father loved my hair.

The harpy gathers it into her pale fist and lifts the blade high. Just before it falls, Feyd's hand rises, a single finger held out in command. His pet cocks her head, a mewl caught in the back of her throat. They are soft with him, curious as pups. She wonders who they were when their lives had meaning and their names tasted sweet on their parents' tongues.

He signals for the harpy to drop her hair and the woman accedes without question. He reaches down to lift the lid of the music box, the teeth inside gleaming like pearls in the pallid light, and then steps over his captive's body to leave.

A soft, whirling rush follows as the harpies scurry in his wake.

Her minds falls silent again.

#feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #house harkonnen #dune fanfiction #drabble #dune movie #dune part two #scalyfreakswrites

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vampiretendencies · 1 year

Note

I can’t stop thinking about a blurb of JJ working on his bike and reader wants to spend more quality time with him so she joins in and tries to help but she’s not very good? So JJ is very patient and slightly teasing but shows her how he does everything and it’s just cute and fluffy? Love everything you write sooooo much!!!

warnings; fluff

pairing; jj maybank x fem!reader

authors note; now that you’ve sent this i can’t stop thinking about it either. i adore this request, hope u enjoy <3

The hammock is thick, knitted, and not close enough to JJ.

He’d insisted that you sit and look pretty in the shade, like the ‘otherworldly goddess’ you are. You were in his vicinity and that at least will have to suffice for the time being whilst he wrestles with whatever mishap has apprehended his dirt bike now.

Just observing him do so, was a pleasing sight— as he’s shirtless, his tanned skin begging to be touched. Abs adjusting to every bend and pull he makes to acquire the right angle whilst his chest flexes in unison. Shark tooth necklace dangling about in any which way. God. He shined with a gleam of sweat from the rays beaming wistfully on him. With a bandana hanging slack out of the many pockets on his cargo shorts. You really desired to drag you finger across each and every crevice that made up JJ’s built frame in front of you. That’s not even to count the way he chugs a beer down every thirty minutes or so— tilting his head back the slightest, making the locks of his hair follow, his Addams apple bobbed up and down with every gulp. If he missed his mouth you were lucky to see dribbles of it seep from the corners, and he’d just wipe it away with his wrist, like second nature, only to chuck the crushed can somewhere in the patchy yard.

With that being the view, one could merely imagine why you are so helplessly antsy in this damn hammock.

He’s tightening the bolt on his bike stand to readjust as he thought it was loose. Your jaw should’ve been on the floor with the way the veins in his arm bulged with every twist, instead you settled with salivating.

You getting up to muster a helping hand was the farthest thing from JJ’s mind.

But you do.

Because, if not physical interaction there’s quality time— and there’s never too much of that.

“J, do you need any help?”

“Yeah baby, you can go get me another beer out of the cooler-“

“No I mean like help, help.”

JJ thought he was in another dimension, that he was seeing double, or that the earth was about to swallow you whole. Help? His forehead is forming wrinkles at such a foreign gesture leaving your mouth, orbs glaring up at you standing over him in obvious perplexity.

“You wanna help me?”

JJ scoffs almost in disbelief, but there’s a partial laugh stuck in his throat. You offer him a tight lipped grin, as if to say you were being all the way serious. Sat on a flat makeshift old cardboard box so his khaki cargo shorts wouldn’t get covered in dirt and debris than they already were, he pats the open space encouraging for you to sit next to him.

There’s a wrench in his hand, the movements of his elongated fingers to the sliver wrench is writhing around the bolt in an effort to make the bike stand compact. With the bike lying on its side, it was of uncomplicated access for JJ to keep it intact. You lie your head mindlessly on his shoulder, perspiring but nevertheless still encapsulating a form of solace. Your hand gently smoothed over the coating of skin about his spine, persisting to delve into whatever it was JJ was saying.

“See this wrench right here?” He spoke, directing you with such ease, he feels the heat of your cheek rub against his shoulder, nodding your head yes. “Turn it, and then keep turning it until it’s tight enough okay?”

He drops the wrench into your palm, locking his fingers with yours for a split second only to slink an arm lazily around your shoulders. Part of him was elated at your sudden interest in one of his hobbies, the other part of him is wallowing in suspicion but, he won’t complain because it’s a little more time with you.

And he could always use a little more time with you.

Even a night apart is far too much to handle.

The cool metal is surrounded by your calloused digits, and JJ is already interjecting.

“Nah baby, that’s the wrong way, turn it towards me,” He chuckles slightly, mainly due to the fact that he just gave you exact directions not even a moment ago. It’s not frustrating though, no, it’s really amusement— plus, there’s a tiny frown plying to your features which he finds captivating.

Something that was miniscule to JJ, when you can’t even spin the wrench a notch to the left, almost like it was stuck. “Fuck! Why is it so hard to turn?!” You are muffled, gritting through your teeth, with a fully clenched jaw and it won’t budge. Though JJ, glides his finger tips up and down your arms, in reassurance that ‘it’ll happen’, even if it’s tomorrow at this rate.

“You’ll get it … just try again, pretty girl.”

He readjusts your grasp on the wrench, and you swat his hand away, trying to accomplish it on your own in this dire summer atmosphere.

“Don’t think you make a very good helper, baby.”

You shoot him a glare, knowing it’s fully said pit of love. He presses a wet kiss to your cheek, to compensate for his loving insult. It stains your the skin, as it’s sloppy and full of affection. Despite it, you elbow him with a nudge to his stomach and he’s winded, punishing him for pestering sweet nothings in your ear.

It took that last push for it to turn, and JJ is biting back his bottom lip in eagerness— the bolt anticipating it’s release. With a slight grunt, it’s turning, it’s turning, and it’s tight.

“Think I did it, J!”

“Tha’s my girl, did so good!”

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cheriladycl01 · 28 days

Text

Why can't I do this? Nico Hulkenberg x PolishOlympicSnowboarding! Reader

Plot: When you are made to go to the Miami Grand Prix, you really thinks you'll be good at surfing as a snowboarding gold medalist. However, those Miami waves prove a bit to much for you!

Credit to rookie-ofthe-year for the GIF

“This is going to be a piece of cake for me Kochanie, just you wait!” You grin picking up the surf board your boyfriend Nico had rented out for you.

“I don’t know Maus, surfing is very different to snowboarding!” He says with a nervous glint in his eyes.

“Come on, the waves are going to be like the little bumps in the slopes and any coral will be like … the mountain rocks … it’s no different at all!” You smile thinking it would be a smooth sailing first time at surfing.

“I know, but there’s just a lot to think of that isn’t … like snowboarding! Like the sharks and the jellyfish and the seaweed and riptides and drowning … I mean there’s a lot that could go wrong!” He offers to you.

“Oh come on, it’s not like I’m going alone in the middle of the night! It’s 5pm, and I’m with my amazingly handsome and strong boyfriend that will protect me from all the scared the ocean might have!” You exclaim knowing he would protect you no matter what.

You get into the water laying down flat on the board and paddling out, a few lighter waves lap over your board until you swim out to where the bigger waves are crashing.

The water was beautiful, a crystal clear blue and you could see some of the little fishes swimming around below as you continued to get to where a wave would carry you.

You’d spent the day at the beach just chilling with Nico, you guys had played beach Volleyball, and made sandcastles, sunbathed and played water ping-pong! It had been an incredible, yet tiresome day. Your energy was just about spent but needed one last thing to get you down for the day.

You saw other surfers out a little deeper, all excited screams or gasps as they fell in but with the sun starting to sink lower in the sky people were having fun.

You spun the board round and waited for the wave coming up behind you before you attempted to stand up on the board, the minute you did you foot slipped and you lost your board.

You came back up, just as another wave lapped over your head making you sputter and cough a bit of water out.

You eventually found your board pulling yourself back up onto it in a seated position. Nico was watching from the shore, a worried dad sort of look on his face and hand in his hip.

You send him a quick thumbs up.

“Just slipped, forgot my feet aren’t attached” you shouted over to him where he nods looking at you a pained expression still on his face making you laugh.

You go again, and this time you managed to get up on the board, only for you to be stood a little too far back, making the board flip you off so you landed back in the water.

“Im going to try again!” You shout over to Nico who is now knee height in the water watching you fail at surfing.

“Maus, I think you should just come in!” He offers back, using his louder voice so you could hear him over the waves.

“Come on, I’ve got this! I have two Olympic medals for Snowboarding!” You exclaim smiling widely at him.

You try multiple more times and continue to fail.

“Why can’t I do this!” You scream out in frustration with yourself not being able to do something that you thought would be so so simple.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself! Your the youngest Polish Woman to win a gold medal in Snowboarding! If anyone can transfer skill it’s you!” He shouts back to you attempting to give you the confidence boost you were so clearly needing.

So you decide to go again. Mind completely in the sporting mode that you had when you were competing.

You swim out with the board again, this time you manage to hop up effortlessly, having that core strength from snowboarding holding you steady on the board despite the killer wave pushing you forward.

It starts to curl in, which is when you get a bit more ambitious to ride higher up on the bridge of the wave on the side so your cruising.

You have an excited little squeal, happy that your up before the wave curls in on you, not escaping the break in time. You get swallowed up, making you go under the water.

You feel a scrape and sting along your leg making you gasp out in the water. A little goes into your airway making you sputter when you come up. You look down and see the red starting to seep into the clear water from your leg.

“I’ve cut myself” you shout to Nico, who immediately comes running over to you the minute he hears you are hurt.

“Maus, what happened oh my gosh! We need to get you out the water now. A shark could get you!” He cries in a panic, lifting you up and carrying you in one arm like a toddler while he drags the surfboard back with his other arm.

“Oh fuck, I think it was the coral!” You say looking down at the cut that was stinging a lot now thanks to the salty water you were in.

“We’re going to have to take you to the hospital!” He says looking at some of the wound that looked a little deeper than the rest.

He took you to get medical attention where they inspected your leg and made sure no coral broke off before wrapping it up and giving you some painkillers to ease the pain.

“I told you surfing wasn’t going to come as easy as snowboarding to you! Your my little winter baby, not made for the ocean or the summer!” He sighs as he helps you into the car you guys rented in Miami.

“I mean, both are dangerous sports. I just thought I’d have better … stability?” You ask looking over at him and he just chuckles looking over at you.

“Ah, you were very very stable Maus, but you are no match for the ocean unfortunately. Stick to Gaia rather then Poseidon yeah?” He asks knowing how well you held up when snowboarding in the mountains.

“I just don’t get how I’m so bad that I injured myself!” You cry with a small giggle, knowing it was a ridiculous thing to be complaining about.

“If I give you a kiss, would that make it better?” He asks.

“Mmm yes very much so” you smile and he leans down brushing your hair out of your face. It was still a little damp and crispy from the sand and salt water you’d spent the afternoon messing around in.

But to Nico, you’d never looked as beautiful as you do right now.

He leans in and locks his lips with yours holding onto your jaw as you entangle yourself together.

“I really love you, and your ambitions but it scares the hell out of me” he admits leaning his head against your forehead.

“Says the Formula One Driver” you smirk looking over him.

“Let’s get you back to the hotel to rest up that leg!” He smiles, helping you up.

“We are getting the first flight back to Poland, you understand?” Nico says.

“Mmm yeah. Home sounds good!” You grin, wanting to see your family soon as you’d been travelling with Nico for so long.

y/user

Liked by hulkhulkenberg and others

y/user: when in Miami you surf 🏄‍♀️ Snowboarding and Surfing are not the same … and I learnt the hard way.

Tagged One Person

View all 96 comments

haasf1team: you shredded those waves (she in fact did not)

-> y/user: admin! why expose me! WHY

hulkhulkenberg: you were tough out there Maus but stick to what you do best and get Silver and Gold in!

fan1: I saw y/n in A&E is she okay?

-> y/user: I’m all good, just a scrape on my leg from some coral when I fell off!

-> hulkhulkenberg: this woman gives me a heart attack everyday I swear, and I’ll have to marry her at some point

-> y/user: you say that as if it’s a chore

fan2: when y/n goes crawling back to Poland for the snow ❄️

-> y/user: Nico has demanded this 🥹

Instagram Story Caption:

Goodmorning America 🇺🇸🦅

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@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #nico hulkenberg x you #nico hulkenberg fluff #nico hulkenberg x reader #nico hulkenberg imagine #nh27 #nh27 imagine #lando norris

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kekaki-cupcakes · 8 months

Note

Heyyy hope you are doing well!! Can i request a Leo Valdez x reader where reader is a child of hypnos plss :))

Oreos and Olaf---Leo V x Child of Hypnos reader

You turn the fairy lights on and pull the blanket to the side as the kettle starts to whistle from the little bench in the corner of the cabin. Once the water bottle [it had care bears on it] was filled and hidden in the pile of blankets you’d made, you had to wait.

»»————-　★　————-««

The fort was small and a bit squishy inside, but that made it all the more cozy, really. Not that the rest of cabin 15 wasn’t cozy, the beds were more like bean bags than bunk beds, couches, annotated books, pot plants, and nintendo switches covered every possible surface that wasn’t already filled with small flickering candles.

There were a few spare beds in the corner, with silk sheets and empty of the teddies, for demigods that were not born of dreams and nightmares that were still plagued by flashbacks in their sleep. The beds were usually full, especially during the summer months, when more demigods at Camp Half-Blood meant more monsters, which only stirred memories that had previously been hidden.

“Did you take the last of the oreos?” Quill asked, peering into the pantry, which was full of biscuits and tea bags. Quill was your sister, her name was short for Tranquility, but it was a mouthful to pronounce, and they liked guardians of the galaxy.

You glance to where the packet of cookies and cream flavored biscuits were nestled between the zebra squishmellow and the portable DVD player. “Maybe…”

“Really?” She complained, her shark slippers squeaking on the light brown floorboards as she trudged over to Clovis’s bed. Then they pulled the mattress up and grabbed the packet of fantails Clovis had hidden away.

“...They’re Leo’s favorite.”

Quill tossed a fantail over to you and stuck their hand in the bag again, fishing out more of the lollies. “Simp.”

You stuck your tongue out at them, screwing up your nose and turning the heater off. Snuggling in a fort of pillows wasn’t fun if you were hot, being cold was the best way to get comfy. Quill slipped their shoes on, leaving the sharks by the door as she opened the door. A gust of wind and snowflakes blew into the doorway, leaving a pile of soft fluffy whiteness inside.

Winter was awful, for the campers who had things to do outside. For you and your siblings, on the other hand, it was great. Hot showers wouldn’t overheat you instantly, tea and hot chocolate were just better to drink in general, and the nights were longer. The only downside was the flu that would submerge camp in tissues and snot.

“Why are you going out?”

“I don’t wanna listen to you two making out for the rest of the night,” Quill teased, shrugging on their baseball jacket and sending you a peace sign. “I’mma go chill with Austin.”

“Be back by curfew!”

There was muttering outside, a loud barky laugh [definitely Quill], and then the door swung back open, and Jake Mason stuck his head through with a grin. “Hiya!”

“Jake, you look- oh.”

He shuffled through, a cast on his right arm and a crutch in the other to help with the moon boot on his foot. Of course, why had you expected any differently? He put on a fake deep voice. “We have the package, I repeat, we have the package.”

“Why are you so dramatic?” Nyssa huffed, and came in, leaving muddy snow footprints through the cabin as she held Leo over her shoulders like she was a firefighter. “Where do you want him?”

You blinked a few times. To be fair Leo was pretty light, but holy Hades, Nyssa must be buff underneath her hoodie. Then you folded back the part of the blanket acting as a door, for her to drop the squirming boy in. “He’s resisting?”

“I have stuff to do! The prototype isn’t finished and-”

“What did you expect,” Nyssa grumbled, and dumped him on the pile of pillows, smoothing down her jagged brown mullet and stepping back.

Leo took a moment to right himself, fluffy hair askew and a vague look on his face. He scrunched his nose and then turned away quickly and sneezed. A burst of flames shot from his face and he fell back with a sniffle, wiping his nose. “I’m not sick!”

“Bro, you just sneezed flames, take a night off.” Jake chuckled, and Nyssa helped him adjust his crutch. The pair left with a wave and a promise to handcuff Leo down if he tried to climb through the window back to Bunker 9.

“This is betrayal, amor dormido, and I will never forgive you,” Leo sniffed haughtily, untying the laces on his boots. You pulled off his snow covered army jacket, the nuts and bolts in the pockets clinking as you discarded it.

“I have oreos, and the 10 Things I Hate About You DVD,” you prompt, pulling the makeshift curtain down as he wiggled into the blanket and pillow fort.

He visibly brightened, even though his eyes were lidded and red. Leo wiped his face with the sleeves of his hoodie and moved closer, snuggling into the mound of pillows and Squismellows. He peeked up, “maybe a few kisses and I'll forgive you?”

You smooth his messy hair back off his forehead and press your lips to it. His scarred skin was colder than normal, like a fever in reverse. He grumbled, tucking his legs over yours and sinking further down. You cupped his jaw and gave him a kiss on the cheek, reaching over him and pulling the hot water bottle over to his lap, which he hugged immediately, a loopy grin on his wilting face.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You kiss him once more, on the nose this time, and start the little DVD player, the intro playing out as Leo curled into you, head tucked into the crook of your neck.

»»————-　★　————-««

As you twisted oreos open and ate the cream inside, then the dark biscuits around them, Leo snored softly. There was a montage of a very obviously lesbian underground club on screen, as Patrick wandered around.

You finish the cookie, pulling the blanket further up over the two of you and snuggling down, Leo’s curly hair tickling your chin. He moved a little, sneezing in his sleep, and then blinked up at you with hazy brown eyes. “Mornin’.”

You didn’t bother to correct him, that he’d actually only been dozing for an hour, and instead you kissed his nose again. He smiled, hiding in the pillows.

“You’re a dork,” you mutter, and turn back to the screen running, your fingertips up and down his back, your fingers tracing the strap of his binder.

He nodded happily, and blinked at the movie, his blank stare turning to a small frown. You didn’t notice until he was glaring at the footy team running back and forth on the grass. “Does it bother you?”

“Hm?”

Leo shifted, drawing his arms back into himself a little. “Does it bother you that I’m not, you know, like them…”

“Sweaty, loud, and probably a dickhead?”

He smiled but it was strained. Maybe the cold was muddling his brain, but usually he wasn’t worried about this sort of stuff, you’d reassured him so many times that he wasn’t perfect, but that was okay, it really was. Still, this happened, he’d get too lost in his thoughts and end up breaking.

“I love you Leo, even if you aren’t super strong. You have an incredible mind and you like the orange and yellow starbursts, so I get all the good ones, and, and you aren’t scared to tell me things like this. And I love that you don’t have a deep voice and I'd love you if you did. And I love you even if you admit that you accidentally burnt all of the camomile tea bags. I love you.”

“I didn’t burn the tea bags,” he grumbled with a smile, pressing himself closer to you in all the ways he could.

“Sure you didn’t.”

“It was… It was Clovis, I saw him.”

“Clovis isn’t allowed matches anymore.”

“Fuck.”

»»————-　★　————-««

“Amor dormido?”

You let out a violent groan and roll over, blankets swaddling you and making the cocoon of wool and cotton even tighter. It was comfy and warm and perfect, the smell of vanilla candles, oreos, and sawdust.

A squishmellow, probably the purple axolotl, became your pillow as your own was yanked from beneath you with a, “love, you’re gonna have to get up, come on.”

You had two options at this point, stay in bed for another five dragged out minutes of groaning and moaning, or sit up and hiss like a Fury or a Drakon at your boyfriend until he left you alone to trudge around and make a hot chocolate. You smirked into your bundle of blankets for a moment.

“Nyssa is gonna kill me if I don’t show up to the workshop, but I want a goodbye kiss.” Leo mumbled, shaking your shoulder a little less gently this time, but still with soft and calloused hands.

You gave him a moment of false safety, and then leapt up with a screech, hands clawed, “you adorable piece of fucking shit I’ll slit your pretty throat-”

“Oh no,” Leo giggled, falling back onto the empty Oreo packet with a grin on his face. You were between his legs with a glare, arms around his middle and head on his shoulder as you tickled him with sharp fingers. “You’re killing me!”

He sighed, and you felt arms around you tightly. Then he rolled with a villainous cackle, out onto the floorboards, your fort falling to pieces once a blanket was pulled out from underneath. Teddies fell in every direction while Leo let out a high pitched squeal, like he wasn’t the cause of the chaos.

“You’re evil!”

“But I have a pretty throat, don’t I?” Leo smirked, and then his face dropped when there was a thud on the other side of the cabin.

Quill stood by the kettle in her shark slippers, a cup of tea in their hand and a glare on their face. You felt a giggle creep up as your cheeks turned hot, but you hid it. The pair of you were already in an awkward enough position, you laying across a red Leo who was scared for his life.

“Out.”

»»————-　★　————-««

You pull your ugg boots on and hide the palms of your hands in your green fingerless gloves, then shoving them in your trench coat pockets to protect yourself from the cold outside. After finishing your hot chocolate [which had rainbow sprinkles on the top], you were finally ready for battle.

‘Battle,’ meaning going outside, of course.

The door creaked, and a fresh pile of white snow spilled onto the welcome mat. You yawned, and stepped out into fresh hell.

“Gods, why does Chiron put us through this?” You mutter to yourself, and plod along outside, snowflakes crunching underfoot, and when you look behind you, there are little dips that were your footprints, already filling back up with snow.

Once you pass the Iris cabin your destination was in sight, and then, of course, everything had to go wrong. Hermes, of course, the root of everyone's problems, was the cause. You had been absentmindedly plotting the death of Quill [How dare she kick Leo out?] when a snowball hit you fair and square in the back of your head.

“You little pieces of- oh wow.”

Instead of Cecil’s wicked smile and an armful of ready made weapons, you were met with a eight foot tall yeti like snowman.

“Fuck,” you groan, and watch Connor come sprinting across the frosty grass, yelling orders at his younger siblings. Cecil came out of his cabin, a sword in hand and a frustrated expression. You watch the crowd yelling as they’re pelted with increasingly sharp and dangerous stalagmites of frozen sludge.

The yeti turned in a circle, blasting teenagers with its frozen breath, and landing another snowball on your knee, this time. Connor called something to an approaching pair of Hermes kids, who had a net in their hands. They threw it over the monster [who probably came from more of Lou Ellen's experiments, if you were being honest].

“Booya! Take that Frosty!”

You weren’t sure why they thought it would work, because their cheering was quickly extinguished when the pile of grass and dirt covered snow the yeti had just become, tumbled over itself repeatedly and appeared behind Cecil.

“Ah, fucknuggets!” Cecil screeched, and swung his sword, which chopped the ice yeti straight in half, like a knife through butter. “Haha, yes!”

It only reappeared, and by that point you had your head in your hands. It seemed someone else in the crowd had the same thought. “No wonder you guys aren’t in the Athena cabin, you never learn!”

Then you realized that it was your someone, and grinned.

“Let the super sized mcshizzle take care of Olaf,” Leo smirked, licking his lips and then cracking his knuckles, which quickly turned as red and fiery as coals themselves. He was wearing his toolbelt and a hoodie you quickly recognised as your own.

Biting your lip, you turned to the snow themed yeti monster and snapped your fingers. It stared at you for a moment, then its stoney eyes slid off its face and landed with small thuds on the ground. It let out a low groan, and then slowly sunk into a puddle, as if Apollo himself was standing there.

“Night night,” you mutter to the last remaining solid matter of the monster, and kick it. Then you trudged through the corpse over to your boyfriend, and rested your head on the top of his, closing your eyes.

He was so warm, and his arms were already around your waist as you started to doze, eyelids heavy, and somehow you were warm in the frost air.

“Woah.”

“You couldn’t have done that a minute ago, when I still had my dignity?” Cecil grumbled.

#pjo fandom #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #leovaldez #Leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x oc #leo valdez x you #leo valdez x y/n #Leo Valdez x child of Hypnos #fluff

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