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nanaslutt · 7 months

Note

omgg for sukuna edging and him not letting you cum till you’re crying and begging + infront of a mirror 🧎🏽‍♀️

Contains: fem reader, established relationship, non curse au, s*x toys, so much dirty talk, degradation, pussy/clit slapping, teasing, edging, manhandling, dacraphillia, sweet sukuna at the end :3

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Your boyfriend currently had you spread out in front of your full-length mirror, only clad in his oversized s-shit as he sat behind you with a pretty purple dildo in his hand. You watched him rub the lube over the silicone dick through the mirror as he got it nice and wet for you. His steady breaths made your body rise and fall with it from the proximity of you pressed against his chest.

Suddenly his piercing eyes looked up and caught you staring at him, a malicious smirk growing on his face. "You watchin' me baby?" He teased, grinning when he watched your eyes fall over to his large hand stroking the toy, no longer to spread the lubricant over it, just to tease you. You nodded at his words, "Good, want you to watch me when I fuck 'ur pussy with this dick too." He instructed, making you nod again. "Words~" He drawled, tsking at you, he knew you knew better. "Yes, Sukuna." You said, making him hum in approval.

"Spread your pussy for me." He instructed, staring into your soul as he waited for you to follow his direction. A hiss left his mouth as he sucked a breath in through his teeth when you reached down with one of your hands to spread your folds apart in a V shape for his watchful eyes. "Why are you so wet baby? Huh?" He asked biting his lip as he brought the dildo in front of you and started rubbing it through your folds teasingly.

You shrugged, looking in the mirror as he pet your pussy with the silicone. A big hand was gripping the bottom half of your face before you knew it, tilting your head up in the mirror to make eye contact with him. "Keep that 'not talking' shit up and I promise you won't be cumming tonight." He said, all teasing vanished from his tone. You didn't mean to piss him off, this was new and you were both excited and nervous, but clearly, that wasn't a good enough excuse to ignore Sukuna.

"Sorry, 'm sorry." You whispered, keeping your eyes on his in the mirror. "That's more like it, it's so easy to use your words, right?" He asked, nodding your head for you with his grip on your chin. "Yes." You responded, loud and clear, making his grin appear back on his face at your obedience. "Now hold your thighs apart for me while I fuck this cunt." He instructed, making you swallow hard as you spread your knees to what was most comfortable and kept your hands braced on them, not trusting you would be able to keep them open with your thighs alone at how rough he could get.

Sukuna pressed the head of the silicone dick against your entrance, making you think he was going to push it in as he watched you hold your breath in the mirror; instead, he pulled it back out and started rubbing it through your folds again. The toy was way smaller than Sukuna's cock, sure, but you have used it many times on your own and it always got the job done. You were assuming with Sukuna having control over it now it was going to do a lot more than just get the job done.

The pink-haired man repeated the same action, pressing it against your hole, deeper this time, letting the tip catch inside the ring of your cunt before he pulled it out again. He made the tip of the dick kiss your clit, rubbing circles there before he rubbed the length between your folds and got the toy even wetter. He was sure you would've started begging for him to put it in at this point, but you were behaving too well after your slip-up earlier of not talking, so he would have to go about getting you to beg another way; he was sure this way would work.

He knew you were needy from the way your hole was dripping slick down between the slope of your ass, and your cunt clenching around nothing as your clit throbbed in tandem under his watchful eyes. "Pussy achin' for it?" He asked, dropping his hold on your chin to slide his hand under his shirt you were wearing to pinch your nipple and roll the bud between his fingers as he spoke. "Yes, p-please Sukuna." You begged, your eyes fluttering when he tweaked your nipple just right, sending shivers down your spine.

"Not actin' like it." He said, bringing the dildo away from your cunt before he slapped it heavily back against your folds, making wet 'plp' sounds emanate in the room as your body jerked forward at the stimulation. "Usually you lose 'ur mind if I don't give you my cock right away~" He teased. You brought your clouded gaze up to meet his eyes instead of watching his ministrations on your pussy. "S 'cos it's not ur dick Kuna." You said honestly. He swore he felt his heart skip a beat at your words, you could be so unpredictable sometimes.

"That right?" He asked, his grin spreading on his face as he watched you nod and verbally answer 'yes'. "My cock the only one that gets you all riled up?" He asked, biting his lip as the two of you kept your gazes on one another. "Only your cock, only you." You said, whining when he started pushing the silicone into the tight ring of your cunt. "So I should give you my dick instead of this stupid toy, right?" He said, his jaw dropping still in a smile while he watched your mouth fall open in a small o the deeper he pushed the toy.

"Wanna feel your boyfriend's cock stretchin' out ur pussy instead of this shit?" He teased, working you up with his words alone as he pressed the toy to the hilt and rotated it in circles against you. "Yesyes, P-please K-kuna wanna feel it-" You begged, pouting your lip up at him. He gave a curt laugh before speaking, "Thats too bad~" His voice rang out before he started thrusting the toy into your cunt, watching your eyes drop to his massive hand enveloping the base of the toy while he fucked in expertly in and out of your cunt, angling it up every time he thrust inward to make sure he was hitting your sweet spot.

"You sure you only love my cock?" He said, laughing. "You're acting like such a slut moaning on another dick right in front of me." Sukuna chastized, his gaze finally leaving your eyes as he dropped them down to watch your cunt suck in the pretty toy. "N-no-" You whine, only being able to get out that one word when the hand that was pinching your nipples slides down your body to draw circles against your clit. "No? No what~?" He teased, trying his best to hold back a groan when he felt the toy become harder to pull out of you from how hard you were squeezing around it.

"I'm n-not a slut-" You cry, gasping and moaning through the pleasure he was so roughly giving to you. He laughs absurdly, "Look at yourself!" Sukuna said, giving you a harsh thrust that made you cry out when you didn't immediately obey. "Hey, slut, I said look at yourself." He repeated. You slid your gaze up to admire your current state; your hands were perched on your knees to keep your shaky thighs apart while your massive boyfriend sat behind you and fucked a dildo into your cunt while he rubbed your clit, you did kinda look like a slut.

"Now tell me you don't look like some whore." He giggled, switching up his thrusts from fast and needy to slow and rough, making you yelp every time he fucked the silicone into your pussy. He took your silence as an answer, giggling before he tapped a few fingers harshly on top of your too-sensitive clit, making you jolt forward. "That's what I thought, my pretty girlfriend is a cock-hungry-" thrust "Slut-" His mean words and precisely coordinated thrusts were about to throw you over the edge, your breaths started crescendoing, getting higher and higher in pitch; Sukuna watched as you eyes started to flutter shut and your legs tired to shut under the force of your hands keeping them apart.

"S-sukunaa~ G-gonna Ngh-" You cried out when the circles against your clit grew tighter, faster, you were almost there- fuck- so fucking close, and suddenly- the stimulation stopped altogether as he ripped the dildo from your cunt and drew back his hand from your cunt. He had a malicious smile plastered on his face when your eyes cracked open again, wondering what had happened. "W-why did you stop?" You asked, heaving oxygen greedily into your lungs. "Did you ask me if you could cum?" He said, keeping his gaze intently on your face.

"N-no" You replied, swallowing and briefly looking away before you looked back at him, an incredulous look spreading across his features as he raised his eyebrow at you, "Oh so you know you didn't and you tried to cum anyways?" He asked, "Thought you might've been too fucked out to remember to ask, but you were just being sneaky." he tsked at you. You felt your heart sink to your stomach, "N-no swear, I didn't do it on purpose!" You tried to tell him, to which he gripped your jaw and turned your face to look at him as he brought his face down to your level, his breath hot against your lips.

"Oh so now the story changed? You wanna cum so bad you'd lie to me?" He tilted his face at you while you shook your head and repeats of 'no no no's' fell from your lips. He tsked at you again before he roughly turned your head back towards the mirror and started rubbing the dildo along your folds again, silently. You knew you fucked up, Sukuna being verbal and degrading was worrisome, sure, but silent Sukuna was even more terrifying.

With no warning, he pushed the cock inside your cunt once more and started a brutal pace with no warm-up. Your hips thrust forward to meet him halfway as you fucked yourself on the silicone. "So needy." He chastised, watching you take the pleasure he was giving you. The pace he had set combined with the hand he eventually brought back down to your clit was quickly working you up to another orgasm. Knowing what you had to do this time, you verbalized it to him before you selfishly tried to take the orgasm that he gave you.

"Baby g-gunna cum- can I? Can I cum?" You asked, making sure to look him in the eyes as you did so. "Aww, thanks for tellin' me princess~" He cooed, smiling in faux appreciation; you knew something was off. He opted to leave your question unanswered as he continues fucking the dildo in and out of your cunt, hitting your g-spot straight on and rubbing your clit with pinpoint precision until you were seconds from your orgasm and he pulled the cock out of your walls once more, while simultaneously abandoning your clit, leaving you it to twitch as your cunt clenched around nothing at the loss of another orgasm.

You wined at the loss, squeezing your eyes shut as you tipped your head back to lean against his strong shoulder. "Fuckkk- I was so close-" You cried, feeling the tingle and heat in your tummy die down once more as your orgasm slipped out of reach. "Aww, that really sucks doesn't it?" Sukuna cooed, pouting his lip out at you in faux sympathy. "Maybe if you beg realll good I'll let you cum." He said, going dizzy when you opened your eyes and gazed at him so hopefully.

"Please Sukuna please-" You begged, keeping your eyes on his and his on yours as he absentmindedly slid the dildo back into your cunt and started thrusting. His jaw mimicked yours as it fell open in a small o shape at the feeling of him fucking you again. "Please what baby? What do you want?" He teased, wanting to hear you say it. He started rubbing your clit once more, bringing on the feeling of your orgasm faster this time, "Wanna c-cum please, 'm sorry for trying to g-get away with it before p-please." You begged, feeling it creep up and up and up- "Ohh, so you were trying to get away with it?" He smiled, before pausing his efforts on your cunt, not pulling away, just keeping his hands still from where they worked.

You wined out again, trying to wiggle your hips onto the cock but to no avail, he kept the cock pulled out of you just enough that you couldn't hit that sweet spot inside you alone. You were getting so frustrated, you felt like you were going to cry. You said you were sorry, you said all the things he wanted you to say so why was he being so mean? Your thighs twitched and shook against your hands as you successfully kept them apart throughout this entire session, at least you could do one thing right.

"Baby please I cant t-take it, I said I was sorry, I'm k-keeping my legs open, please Sukuna it hurts, let me cum, please." You begged, your eyes welling up with tears that threatened to spill over your lash line. Sukuna felt his heart threaten to beat out of his chest, your wines and teary eyes made him feel hot all over, hearts practically formed in his eyes as he watched you beg sweetly. When he watched the first tear spill down your cheeks he brought his hand up from your clit to wipe it away with his thumb while smiling, "Big baby." He said softly.

"Surely you don't think of me so lowly that you think I would really leave you unsatisfied." He smirked, grabbing the bottom half of your face in his hand and shaking it for you while you pouted at him. He dropped his hand back down to your clit and started rubbing it slowly, keeping the dildo still inside you. "You mad?" He asked, watching as your eyes started to flutter at the soft stimiulation.

His smile grew when you nodded, he would excuse your lack of a verbal answer now, he did feel bad for making you cry after all. "I'm sorry~" He said, trying to hold back the humor in his voice that he found in your angry face. "Not mad enough to push me away though right?" He checked. You shook your head, relaxing against his chest while he rubbed your clit faster. "Good, gonna make you cum so hard." He whispered, slowly thrusting the dildo inside of you. "Cum whenever you want~" Were the final words that left his lips before he started the rough pace you so loved into your pussy.

Your eyes fell shut, gasps and whines freely left your lips as he fucked you with the silicone aggressively. He bit his lip watching a white ring of your arousal gather on the bottom of the dildo as he fucked it in and out of you, you must've been so worked up to get this wet. It hardly took a minute before you felt like you were going to cum again, this time it felt like it was going to be an intense one. You moaned out his name under your breath as you started squirming against him.

"Already?" He teased, spelling his name over your clit as he fucked into your g-spot and worked you towards your high. "Gonna cum for me?" He asked, noticing how much you were wiggling against his chest. You nodded, gasping his name over and over as he worked you into what would be one of the most intense orgasms of your life. "Fuck fuck fu-ck-" You were cut off as the first wave crashed over you. Your hands dropped to grip his wrist that was rubbing your clit as your legs shut around his hands.

"Yeahh~ Take it, baby, that's fucking right~" Sukuna groaned, fucking the dildo into you as he worked you through your orgasm. Your body jerked forward, and he followed you, as you came hard all over the silicone. This was by far the best orgasm you've ever got out of this toy, and you had him to thank for it. "God you're squeezin' it so fuckin' tight." He laughed as he started slowing the thrusts inside you but kept his ministrations up on your clit as the last waves of your orgasm wracked through you.

You relaxed against him with a sigh, heaving the air into your lungs as he pulled his hand away from your clit and slowly slid the dildo out of you; while you wined at the oversensitive feeling; and he threw the toy off to the side. "Did so good cumin' all over that cock for me~" Sukuna whispered into your ear as he wrapped his arms around your shaky body and watched you in the mirror.

"See? Aren't you glad you waited? Felt so much better, huhh~?" He teased, making you crack your eyes open and glare at him maliciously, still heaving air into your lungs as you gave him a silent but deadly look. "Sheesh~ Okay woman, sensitive topic." He laughed, making you sigh as you shut your eyes once more and let his warmth envelop your body.

#i want him to ruin me #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna ryoumen smut #sukuna scenarios #ryoumen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #gojo smut

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cheriladycl01 · 2 months

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Love your Fernando's fic about Finland Freeze. Could you do it but with Toto Wolff. Just them spending time together with their son, Jack with a hint of surprise at the end. Thanks!! :)))

Bahama Breeze - Toto Wolff x Wife Reader + Son

Plot: You go to the Bahamas during the winter break with Toto and your son and truly experience that VIP life.

Credit to onboardcamera for the GIF

"Come on. It's our beach day today. Our munchkin is desperate to make sandcastles for his Queen" your husband Toto laughed from the edge of the bed he was leaning on. It was a nice fancy hotel bed that had those crisp white sheets.

You look up at him with your small sleepy eyes, the morning light coming in through the balcony window that was no longer covered by the large curtains, from up here you had an amazing view of the white sandy beach and the crystal clear waters.

There was multiple sounds coming in through the doors, the waves softly crashing, the birds flying around and the sounds of people darting their day down on the beach.

"Come on, get dressed into something for the beach! We'll meet you downstairs for breakfast." he smiles down at you before climbing off the bed, taking your son who was playing by the door with his bucket and spade. You take a few more seconds before starting to fully wake yourself up and get into a bikini and kaftan so you wouldn't burn when walking along the beach.

You brush you teeth and make sure your all clean before heading down to find your family, Toto said they'd meet you in the restaurant where there was a buffet style breakfast, where you both had gained weight at the promise of it being unlimited, but you were on holidays so you didn't care.

Breakfast was pretty quiet where it was later on in the morning and it wasn't too hard to find Toto and his loud voice.

A dad laugh. It rung through the restaurant like a chorus of bells. Nobody could miss it, it was like a load of plates falling where everyone turns to look at where they'd fallen from, but they were now looking at your husband and son.

You all happily ate breakfast together filling your hearts content before heading out and finding sunbeds down by the pool and beach.

As VIP of the hotel, you had premium beds that were right by the pool.

Eventually it was decided you’d go to the beach to try some of the water sports. You set up camp, laying on a towel on your front tanning the back half of your body. Your son obsessed with the sand and the way it felt so while you napped in the sun, he and Toto made sandcastles, Toto running back and forth with see water to help mould the sand better.

Eventually they both ended up just digging a really big hole. All through it you managed to bask in the rays of light shining down on you.

All of a sudden you heard little screams, in your haze of sleepiness you couldn’t tell if they were off distress.

You got up quickly rubbing the sand away from your hands as you looked around. Only to find Toto and your son, him yelling in delight as he stared to bury Toto in the sand pit they created.

As you neared them, your son opened his arms wide asking for a hug and to be lifted up. You however didn't fully slow to a stop as you were walking, and end up slipping off the edge into the small hole next to Toto who was calmly sat at the bottom, legs covered in sand.

"Offph, I know when i married you I signed up for this. But boy do I hate sand in all my crevices" you joke looking over him before helping him out if the sand and up from the beach hole he was in.

"Your the one who got me to come to the Bahamas with you! I would have happily spent my winter at home or in i don’t know Lapland!" He comments, pulling you into a hug. He loved the warm weather so he actually wouldn’t change this for the world.

The next few hours flew by, you and Toto had got your son onto a Lilo and both took him in the sea, showing him all the fishes that were in the crystal clear waters and explaining what they were to him and he had this look of fascination the whole time.

You watched on as Toto rented one of the JetSkis racing around the safe water sports area trying to look cool in front of you, his wife of course!

Then you guys got lunch on the beach bar having some drinks and making sure the little one stayed hydrated on water and juices, he’d become very fond of Dragon Fruit and Papaya on this holiday.

After a few more hours, your getting too hot, your forehead lined in sweat and not enjoying the rising temperatures and lack of wind to help cool you down. You say that you’ll go back to the hotel lobby to get a cocktail and cool down while Toto stays around the pool in the cool water with your son, who didn’t want to go inside and wasn’t suffering from the heat unlike you.

You get in, walking straight to the sports bar where that are showing some Premiere League Football on the TV, Aston Villa vs Burnley. You order your cocktail and go straight under the fan, your face immediately cooling down.

You watch the match, while playing one of those silly games on your phone that don’t take too much attention but use up time until you start to feel like you can head back out.

You stayed there for at least 45 minutes, where you had finally cooled down and felt like you could join your family back outside. You start to walk through the hotel again, noticing little things you hadn’t from when your first got here, like the fish tank behind the reception desk or the cafe off to the left serving coffees and hot chocolate in heat like this.

Eventually you found your sun beds again, Toto was calmly reading his book that he’d brought with him while your son was laying under the umbrella and under a towel where he slept soundly exhausted from all the morning activities.

Rather than going and laying on your own sun bed, you force Totos legs open and sit in between them grabbing your own book out. You were reading some riveting murder mystery where the main character was about to confront her boyfriend thinking he was the murderer when your child woke up, complaining he was hungry.

Toto places his book down and looks at his watch seeing it was around 3. Which means you guys should start to consider lunch before it’s too late.

You walk to the restaurant. Toto holding your hand in one and your sons in the other.

The waiter direct you to one of the more secluded tables in the VIP sections offering you drinks.

“Juice juice juice” your son changed at the Bahamian waitress who just giggled and nodded knowing exactly what your son wanted as she’d been very helpful to you and your family over the last few days.

“I suspect a Kalik Beer and a Tequila Sunrise?” She asks and you both nod thanking her for being so kind and welcoming.

“Come on baby let’s go grab you some grub” you smile down at the little boy, holding out your hand for him to take.

You grab multiple different food items, on two different plates one for you and one for your son. Toto always hated when he had to wait behind on the tables and watch as you and his son walked around hand in hand picking out which delicacy’s he wanted, which most days turned out to be plain kid like food, unlike you and Toto who were every adventurous on your travels, always trying local cuisine.

You set yourself back down in the gable, Toto helping the young boy into his hair so that he could start to enjoy his food and eat. Toto went up right after quickly finding himself somethings to eat before running back so he didn’t miss anything being said.

You guys talk about the holiday so far and if there was anything you really felt like you had to do before you left. Your son babbled to himself while you and Toto continued.

After lunch ended up spending the rest of the afternoon around the pool before you left at around 7pm, purely because the pool closed. No-one was in a rush to get to dinner.

You all spend your time getting ready, you doing your makeup out on the balcony while Toto and your son showered getting all the sand of their bodies.

You walk into the room, seeing your son pulling his Velcro shoes on by himself and Toto in nice fabriced dinner shorts and bare chest as he looked for a nice polo go wear to dinner.

He spotted your gaze and walked over to you, leaning down kissing your lips making you recoil away knowing that your lip gloss would transfer into his lips and leave yours meaning your makeup left ruined for the night.

"Whyyyyy?" he whined looking at you with a frowny and pouty expression that had you giggling.

"I can’t have you smudging all this work baby" you smirk, knowing he wouldn’t care if you went out with mascara streaming down your face.

"Hmmmm, can you choose me a top! Then I’ll be ready to go?" he exclaims before crossing back over to where the closet was in the fairly spacious hotel room.

“Mmmm i like the green but your a little red today baby, so maybe this Brown one” you say holding up the Brown Lacoste Polo.

“Good choice Liebling” he smiles pulling you in for a quick kiss, your son smiling happily and clapping his hands at the interaction making you do it one last time.

He looks in the mirror, trying to fix his wet hair before grabbing the hairdryer not wanting it to go puffy from the humidity here in the Bahamas, he made that mistake on the first night.

“Im so warm already I feel sticky” you complain as you guys step out of your air conditioned hotel room and into the hallways where the glass windows always remained open letting all the hot air inside.

“Yes I can feel it” he teases as he holds your hips swaying you from side to side as you all wait for the lift to come down from either the 12, 16th or up from the 2nd floor. Your son always loved predicting which one would get there first.

"Mmmmm no please!" you complain hating how his big hands that you usually love on you see just as sweaty as your body.

"I'm hurt Schatz! You won’t accept physical contract from me? Your husband?" he asks looking over you and you want to nod you really do but his expression makes you lean into his hold, and let him drape his arms around you while you both watch your son stand in front of the third lift, that being his prediction.

He was right and you all happily clambered into the lifts, Toto lifting him up as you direct him so you can take a picture of the three of you to put on your Instagram and send to your parents and your mother in law who wanted updates on your guys holiday. You’d begged her to come with you but she was a busy lady, promising she’d come next year.

“This is exactly what I needed” he sighs into your next as the lift continues it’s decent.

“Mmmm me too, it’s been a tough year for both of us”

“We earned this” he smiles kissing your neck just before the doors open exposing you to the lobby where your son runs out straight to the massive fish tank making you and Toto both laugh to one another.

What a way to have a break before the next intense season!

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#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #toto wolff #toto wolff dad #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff fic #toto wolff x you #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff team principal #team principal #mercedes amg f1

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winterzsurprise · 1 year

Text

Playing with fire || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x f!reader

Summary: After risking your life to save one spider, Miguel had enough and decided it was time to discipline you.

Tags: SMUT, NOT BETA READ, face slapping (M&F), brat! reader, spanking, very brief blowjob, gagging, Miguel has a big dick, overstimulation (?), multiple orgasm denial, rough sex, pussy slapping, unprotected sex, pain kink, some aftercare at the end.

Words: 2.8k

idk how Tumblr works as well but user @/octobersoot said something about reader being a brat to Miguel and I had to revamp this one idea lol. I hope this counts as reader being a brat.

Spanish speakers, do correct me with the last one in the translation, thank you in advance :DD

cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || coño - fuck (literally means cunt but google said it can also be used as like 'fuck!' or 'shit!' in English)

"NO DON'T!"

When you ripped yourself from Miguel's hands and jumped down into the black hole to catch the Spider-Man that fell into it, you had two thoughts.

If you die, Miguel would pull you from hell to kill you.

If you lived, Miguel would make sure you'd regret it.

As the void approaches, you latched onto one falling debris and leaped out to get closer to the guy whose wrist’s flicked to release some webs for you to catch on but you ignored it. You’ve seen how using webs to catch someone goes and it didn’t end well, you’re not about to make the same mistakes.

Reaching out to grab the falling Peter's hand, you webbed to the nearest stable item you could before feeling Miguel’s webs wrap around your waist. The momentary fear and adrenaline from saving the spider drained out of your skin almost immediately. Hearing the angry man barking orders above you, you prayed early for your soul.

You're not religious but you'd certainly need a diety's kind soul to take pity on you today once you’re left behind doors with Miguel alone.

"AY COÑO, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?! DID YOU GET YOUR HEAD HIT SOMEWHERE??"

You grunted, tugging President Spidey with you. "Just pull us up!"

"I should let go of you for being so stupid!"

"Then fucking do it coward!"

Despite his comments, it took one tug from Miguel to pull you and President Spider-Man to a safe spot on a building they were resting at to watch the consequences of altering canon events. The anger radiating out of his body would be enough to trigger your senses, his glare searing a hole through your skull.

Looking up sheepishly, Miguel’s face was contorted into subdued rage. The absolute fury lashing in his dark red eyes made your heart drop to the soles of your feet.

You're absolutely fucked and you don't know if you regret it or not.

On one hand, he's going to murder you and split your body into pieces to feed the kraken version of Doc Ock. But on the other, he's unfathomably hot when he's glaring through your flesh and soul.

How could he be so alluring while plotting your murder? You have no idea.

"We're going to have a talk." His darkened voice made your spine tingle, you nod and turned to run towards Hobi but the firm hand on your shoulder halts you. "Don't move, I'll break your knees if you do."

President Spider-Man shrunk beside you, more intimidated by the threat directed towards you than you do.

"Is that a threat, boss?"

"No cariño, it's a promise."

Leaping down to greet the quarantine squad, he left the two of you on the rooftops. President Spidey turned to you, worried to the nines for your soul.

"D-do you need to universe hop? You're free to hide at mine, since it's my fault you're gonna get grinded later."

You laughed, slapping him in the back to which he wheezed at. "Don't worry, he won't bite."

•=•=•=•=•=•

Despite your shit attempt of comforting President Spider-Man, he didn't leave your side, ready to jump in front of you if Miguel happens to snap in the middle of the journey back to HQ. Hobie however, attempted to pry him off of your side with an amused smile.

“Have you realized how fucked you are?”

President Spidey hushed him, to which the man raised an eyebrow at. “Don’t say that.”

When you all entered the office, Miguel halted and you all followed. There’s a buzz in the back of your head and a glance at the nervous wreck beside you tells you that he felt it too.

"Everyone except my wife, leave."

President Spidey almost spoke up, probably to request to stay next to you until Hobie swung his arms around his neck and pulled him out, but not before saluting to you.

"I'll burn the ministry in your honor."

His voice echoed in the dimly lit room until the hatch closed shut, isolating you and your husband from the outside world until further notice. You watch as a yellow holographic lady materializes over his shoulder, Layla whose gaze immediately met yours.

"Layla, make sure no one tries to enter my office until I say so. Go hang out with Spiderbyte in the meantime."

"Don't break the poor girl, she didn't do—"

"I don't want to hear it. Leave."

Sparing you a pitiful smile, she dispersed into the air. With no hatch to escape to, nor any obstacles to run behind, you were left standing a few footsteps away from the man.

"I thought we had an agreement to keep ourselves safe during missions?"

There was a simmering anger hidden behind his words, tone almost dark and bitten back.

"I was safe, you just need to place a little faith on—"

"The last time I did that, the people I cared about died."

You wanted to defend yourself, bring up being safer since you're Spider-Man and all that but you knew it wouldn't end well. Seeing the seething anger radiating off of him, that's the best course of action.

Hanging your head down with a sigh. "Alright, I'm sorry."

"Sorry's not gonna cut it this time, cariño. I think I have to drill it into you."

Your brain clicks, realizing what he said and you frown. "Fucking is not gonna help us right now, Miguel!"

"Well I don't see you complaining every time it happens, do I? If I recall, you've begged, cried and screamed my name again and—"

Your hand moved faster than your brain as you slapped the man. You gasped, bringing both hands up to your mouth as you watched him go silent.

"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—"

"No no no, I see how it is."

You waited for his next move with bated breath, goosebumps prickling your skin. You debated on taking a few steps back but before you could, he surged with his hands grabbing your neck and slamming you on the wall, stealing the breath from your lungs and you gasped.

“You know the words, mi vida?”

You curled your eyebrows at him. Does he mean your safeword?

“F-fucking get your hands off of me, let's talk."

The light slap on your cheeks shocked you, mouth falling ajar at the action. You couldn’t deny the fact that the sting left by his hand has stirred your desires awake, nor can you even dare to mention how breathless—figuratively and literally—he left you.

Miguel observed your eyes, cautious of any hurt flashing in them before putting more pressure on the side of your throat and you greedily inhaled more air as much as you could. Dark spots crawl from the side of your vision and fear starts to claw at your heart.

Yet the uncomfortable slickness and ache between your thighs says otherwise.

"Your words."

"I'm not using them!"

The grin curling his lips sent shivers down your spine, doom looming over you.

"Good."

Before you could say anything, he released your throat and you fell to the floor, inhaling greedily for air as your vision slowly repairs itself.

"I've been wanting to tame that mouth of yours since earlier."

You coughed, peering up at him through your eyelashes. "R-really? I thought you liked that about me?"

"Oh really? I thought I said I only liked your mouth, not your voice."

Grabbing your jaw, he forced you to look up before pushing two of his fingers through your lips, pressing down on your tongue as his suit disintegrated to reveal his formal clothes. Miguel's hand threads through your hair, caressing the back of your head before tugging. With a wicked grin, he continued.

"Strip."

It was a command, not a request. The low timbre of his voice sends jolts of pleasure down your spine. Following his heeds like a hypnotized woman, you made quick work of your clothes, tossing them to the side and unshackling your web shooters.

Reaching up, you unbuttoned his pants and took care of his fly before shrugging the clothing down his thighs. The tent in his boxers sent shivers down your spine, a promise of pleasure behind its confines.

Pulling it down, his girth revealed itself to you and your tongue grew heavy inside your mouth, a few dribbles of pre-cum on the tip and the prominent veins giving it an illusion of being larger than it already is. Miguel pulled you closer making you kiss the base of his dick.

"What a sinful face you have, cariño. I'm starting to like this more."

He guided his length to your mouth, smearing his clear arousal on the plush of your lips making you open up only for his hand to come down harshly against your cheeks once more.

The sharp sting immediately melts into hot arousal pooling down your thighs.

"Do you really think you deserve me, mi cielo? After speaking back to me earlier?"

"I want it, please?"

He scoffed. "'Want' it? Do you think you own me? That's funny."

His webs embraced you and he pulled, making you stumble to the floor with a yelp. Being bound tightly by Miguel who towered over you with sadistic glee and glowering eyes, made you feel small all over.

Yet the sick bastard at the back of your head smiled an ugly grin.

"How about we try it again? Maybe if you ask nicely, I'll give you what you wanted."

He pulled you back to a standing position, his hand immediately locking onto your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his dilated and darkened red pairs that seemed to tempt you to drown yourself in them.

Your eyes fell to the hand pumping himself leisurely and groaned.

"Please? Darling, I want to taste you."

"Do you deserve it?"

"I'm more of an action type of person than a talker."

He said nothing, watching as you fall back to your knees before tapping the head of his cock onto your lips. Once your mouth opened, his hand on your jaw crawled to the back of your head and pushed.

The sudden and wide intrusion down your throat got you gagging yet Miguel only found pleasure from the throb of your muscles constricting around him.

You remind yourself to breathe through your nose, trying to force yourself through it but your throat complains and you knew you couldn't take it. Slapping his thighs thrice, he pulled away immediately, clicking his tongue while you coughed and gasped for air.

"Bold talk. I knew your mouth wasn't fit for speaking at all. Such a shame it can't do anything at all."

Still focused on the throb in your throat, you weren't able to react fast enough when he pulled you flush to his chest by the web and carried you to the platform where a cushioned chair awaits.

He sat and you ended up on his lap with both his calloused hands grounding you by the shoulder and hips. Miguel's burning eyes roamed the expanse of your chest, one hand rising to trace his gaze with his fingertips and pinching the stiffened peaks of your mounds making you moan from the slightest touch.

"Maybe your pussy could do a better job."

The hand soon crept around your neck with his eyes where it pressed against its sides once more.

It was maddening how you could feel his hardness pressing against your folds yet unable to do much about it. The firm hand on your hips prevents you from grinding down on him. He does reach down to your clit, palming your engorged bead but before you could revel in it, he pulled away.

"Did those slaps get you this wet baby? Didn't know you're such a slut."

Your cheeks lights up and you slapped his cheek lightly for the name he called you, only for Miguel to return it harder.

"You don't get to slap me, slut. The only thing you're for is this pussy."

A wet slap resonated in the room and you cried, thighs closing from the impact on your heat, embarrassment burning your body before shame crawled up your throat as you realized his demeaning behavior seems to only goad you further.

He didn't give you a chance to prepare when he pushed his cockhead into you. Tears brimmed in your eyes as the burn of the stretch stung your veins and stirred your desire further. Every inch inserted tore you apart, the sensation a mixture of heaven and hell, it was delicious as it was painful.

Seeing the struggle in your face, Miguel reached down to roll your clit in slow circles, whispering affirmations into your ears. The moment he sensed your accommodation to his girth did he pull out till his head remained, angling his hips before inserting himself back again to hit the spongy spot on your walls.

You whimpered and moaned in his shoulder as his pace grew with a manic fervor. The pain slowly transitioned into pleasure with the frequency of his thrusts, your nails dug into his shoulder as he pushed himself deeper and deeper into you, narrowly missing your uterus as he pistoned into you.

Mind whirled in ecstasy and lightness brought by his fingers on your throat, you only grabbed onto him for dear life as he quickly dragged you to the edge.

Feeling the familiar pulse and tightness of your walls around him, Miguel suddenly pulled away and you cried.

"Why did you pull away?"

His hand came down with a loud crack! as it collides with the globes of your ass in quick successions. Your hips twists as you clenched desperately on air. Desire clawed at your throat and you whimpered, body already missing the rush of pleasure he brought with every push.

“Do you think you deserve it, mi vida?”

You nodded and he chuckled darkly. “I don’t think you do.”

Despite his words, Miguel entered you once more, picking up his previous pace. Your previous orgasms arose, walls clamping down onto him, desperate for the release you craved so deeply. There's a wet sound echoing in the room along and you flushed deeper yet far too desperate for euphoria to care.

His deft fingers found your clit with experienced accuracy and slapped it with every thrust of his hips.

You shouldn't be enjoying every bit of pain yet here you were, moaning and wriggling your hips for more stimulation like a mad woman.

"My cariño's such a slut taking all of this pain like the whore she is. Bet you liked that spider guy huh? Jumping off like a fool to save a dick, so pathetic."

Miguel pulled away and you cried, the itch of dissatisfaction searing through your body. You clawed at his back as if the pain could threaten him, in response, Miguel swats your rear once more.

"A little slut like you doesn't deserve to cum. After that stupid stunt earlier? Do you think you deserve to come?"

"Yes yes yes."

He slapped you across the face but you could care less, whining.

"Stop being a dick and give it to me, please!"

Clicking his tongue. "Such a desperate slut, I'd slap you for that, but I'm feeling a bit generous."

It was his fingers that attacked you this time, deftly rubbing your clit. Your hips stuttered up to follow his hand.

“Might as well count how many, right?”

Your mind grows lighter as time bleeds against each other. His objections to your orgasms grew frequent as the intervals between your nirvana grew shorter, you have lost count of how many he has denied you and has long stopped doing so, body now laid motionlessly on top of his as you sobbed onto his shoulder from frustration.

Miguel didn't care, in fact, he reveled in your misery every time.

His hips pistoned faster, tip almost always nudging your spot with every thrust as his lips caught yours in a weakened dance, there was a shift in the air and you knew he had finally relented on dragging it out.

"Come for me, darling. I want it all, give it to me."

The pleasure that bursted in your veins wasn't like the others from before. The ecstasy woke every nerve ending in your body alight, limbs growing weightless from the shock of pleasure from your orgasm as electric shocks reverberated from your core and to the tip of your fingers.

Your thighs convulsed violently and you screamed, arousal squirting to drench his stomach. Miguel's arms curled around you protectively as you shivered, whispering hushed affirmations in your ears while the impact of a long-denied orgasm shattered you.

"You did so well for me, mi vida. I’m here, no more of that."

Miguel soaked in your every moans and sobs as he murmured something you couldn't catch, mind far too foggy to process.

You didn't even realize that he didn't came, focused solely on comforting you through your high.

His racing heartbeat matched the pace of the throb in your head, you could hear your breathing echo in your ears yet in the state of exhaustion, you found it calming, melodic even. Miguel’s fingers that gave and tore your pleasure away now caressed the back of your head, gently as if you’ll break apart.

You could make out his chapped lips pressing kisses onto your temple as exhaustion won over your body, eyes falling shut with the melodic rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you to sleep.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #marvel fics #marvel smut #spiderman smut #spider man smut #spider man fics

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millyhelp · 4 months

Text

It all fell Down.

Jason todd x reader

warnings: mentions of death, blood, sad jason. read at your own risk. Angst shit.

Notes: I cried writing this. good luck. and yes, I wrote a super cute smut a few hours ago and now this puddle of sadness. Maybe I should continue?

please comment.

"Stay with me, stay with me..." Jason's fingers passed over your face affectionately. Thick tears of fear left his face.

You were bleeding. Your wound was deep, a bullet hit you.

It was supposed to be the perfect day. Your wedding. Your white dress was now red across the entire length of your chest. Jason's white suit blouse was in the same situation.

You lost blood quickly.

"It's okay." Your voice was weak and you coughed. The bullet hole had pierced one of your lungs, making blood fill it.

"There's nothing okay. Just stay with me, okay?" Jason sobbed and held you tightly against him. "Don't leave me..."

"I won't. I'm with you, right there." You placed your hand on Jason’s heart. His voice was low. Your lips were turning purple. "Jay..."

"Don't talk, save your breath. Look at me, please" Jason had never cried so much in his life. "Where's the fucking help?!"

Jason shouted, his voice broken by crying. The entire Batfamily was trying hard to control the chaos that was happening. No one had understood where the attacks came from.

"Jay..." You called him again. his eyes were heavy. You knew you couldn't take it anymore. "I love you..."

"Don't! Don't say that!" Jason shook his head. Childish sobs left his lips. "Don't do this with me!"

"Kiss me..." your blood-stained hand went towards Jason's face.

Jason would deny it. But he couldn't. Inside him he knew his end was coming. He was just being selfish.

His lips kissed you with tenderness and pain. Fear. afraid to lose you

Your lips were cold. A heavy sigh left your lips. Your heart stopped.

A scream of pain left Jason's lips.

"No! No! NO!" Heavy tears were left, loud sobs and screams. "DONT LEAVE ME! No..."

Jason shook your freezing body.

"Wake up! come on! wake up!" Jason caressed your face "My love, my princess. Come on, you have to wake up. Let's get married."

Jason went into a state of delirium. He wouldn't accept it. No. The only one who loves him the way he is, the only one who wasn't afraid of him. You were just sleeping.

"You chose such a beautiful dress for me, huh?" Jason's voice was broken. The tears didn't stop falling. "I can't wait to fill our house with kids. We want three, remember?"

Bruce, Dick, Barbara, Tim and Damian had managed to stop the attack. They did not identify who sent the shooters. But that didn't matter now.

A tear left Barbara's eyes when she saw Jason kneeling on the floor with you in his arms.

Dick, Tim and Damian knelt in respect.

Little Damian let a few small tears fall. Tears that no one thought he would ever drop.

Bruce walked over to his son. He placed a hand on Jason's shoulder.

"Jason..." Jason ignored him and continued talking to you.

"Come on love, wake up. I promised to take you to London! We have to catch the plane in a few hours!"

"Jason." Bruce spoke more firmly.

"You're going to love Paris! You told me it was your dream to see that big tower! My French is terrible, by the way!"

"Jason!" It was Barbara's turn to call him.

Jason looked at her. Barbara shook her head.

Jason didn't want to believe it yet. He ignored her.

"Jason! She died!" Damian's voice was loud and tearful. Broken.

"No... not for me..."

For Jason it was just a nightmare that for him, he would wake up like every other time. But this time, it wasn't a dream.

you were gone. you died.

and Jason can't save you.

#jason todd #jason todd angst #jason todd x reader #jason todd headcanon #jason todd oneshot #red hood x reader #jason todd smut #red hood smut #jason todd robin #i just love jason #jasontodd #dark jason todd #jason peter todd #jason todd blurb

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diejager · 8 months

Text

Halloween Party

Pairing: Ghoap x fem!reader

Cw: smut, cunnilingus, drinking, DUB-CON, partying, kidnapping, mentioned cannibalism, locking up, tell me if I missed any. wc: 1.4k

You’re at a Halloween party with a group of friends, well, coworkers. You all came to this party under the guise of having a good time with the promise of good booze and free food. Who wouldn’t want to go when there was free food? There were neon lights in the dark house, high ceilings with decorative spiderwebs and loud - near deafening - music blasting in the background of the place. In the frenzy of it all, you all separated, one gravitating towards their preferred clique: the wild partygoers, the wallflowers, the dancers, the gossipers or the foodies.

You found yourself lost, between the loud music, the low lights and the shoulder-bumping crowd around you, you couldn’t make heads or tails of where you were, stumbling between swaying hips and screaming voices. You felt lost and confused, falling into the arms of a stranger, strong arms holding you up, big, gloved hands wrapped around your hips. Apologies tumbled off your tongue with awkward shifts, but you didn't expect him to laugh, a smooth voice reaching your ears over the loud music and cacophonous atmosphere, an accent you couldn’t recognize on his tongue.

He presented himself as Soap. Soap, dressed in black rags with his hood lowered, combat boots, leather gloves and a white mask propped to the side of his head, smooth plastic pulled into a screaming face with a thin cloth covering every hole, entertaining you during the first portion of the night. He led you to the kitchen and poured you beer - from the taste - in a red cup, you ate, drank and chatted, from his hobbies to your favourite animal. You slowly gravitated towards stronger alcohol, letting Soap fill your cup over and over again, you lost count of how many drinks you’ve had.

A while into the night, when Soap had broken down your guard and had you relaxed and comfortable around him, dropping hints that he was interested in you, another man peered over his shoulder, making you choke down your drink from his sudden appearance. He called himself Ghost in a low, grumbling voice, British in every sense. He wore tattered clothes, hanging from his wide shoulders and bulky arms, bloodied boots and gloves, and a hockey mask sewn into a black mask covering his whole face.

Ghost and Soap knew each other, you were certain of it, from the way they faced each other to the way they held one another, Ghost’s arm around Soap’s hip, Soap’s hand on Ghost’s forearm, how close they stood together or how physical they were. You felt as if they were more than friends, more than they told you - or so your drunk mind perceived it. Seated between both men, one nursing a cup and another holding food, they coaxed you into their car, from the stool in the kitchen island to the backseat of their beat-up car, a black, unassuming jeep.

Soap has you squirming and moaning, back pressed into the soft leather of the seats with your panties pulled down to your ankle, legs spread open by his hands, strong and unmoving to your struggle and cries of pleasure. The scruff of his trimmed beard scratched your thighs sensually, the rough texture of his fingers thumbing your pulsing clit and his nimble tongue had you coming a few times, body arched and wound tight, the coil in your navel exploding in white, fiery pleasure. They focused solely on your enjoyment, Ghost driving the jeep with a painful and neglected hard-on, his cock pressing against the seams of his briefs and pants, and Soap’s occupied mouth, tongue and hands left him rutting against the seat, coming in his pants.

The short walk from the car to their room was a blur, ending with you trapped beneath Ghost, his thick and veiny cock pounding you into the mattress, his filthy praises making slick pool out of you, rolling down your ass as he pressed your legs to your chest. Then he had Soap eat you out, cleaning up his mess, moaning and groaning into your lips while he fingered his boyfriend’s ass, thick fingers stretching the rim of his twitching hole.

When Ghost deemed it stretched enough, he had you ride Soap, bouncing on and off his cock while the masked man rocked into Soap, his balls slapping loudly against Soap’s ass, degrading and calling Soap a pup, his puppy. It slipped from riding one to being pressed between them both, being manhandled with both cocks driving into you, fighting for whose cock got to come in you, to paint your walls in his load, ropes upon ropes of white cum.

Sometime around being pressed beneath them both, to arching over the bed, ass bucking against Soap’s hip while taking Ghost down your throat, roughly fucking your throat, you passed out after a mind-numbing climax, body twitching and whining, used and sensitive. You were too lost to catch onto their quiet conversation, their shared plan of taking you, but then Soap liked you, wanting to keep you rather than cut you up and eat you.

When you woke up, all you remembered was the incredible night you spent, the heavily sexual moment that left you sore and bruised, you expected to see light filter through the window of their room, but you weren’t laying under a blanket, instead, you woke up shackled by the ankle and naked on a mattress. You were in a dark and damp room, the air humid and the light limited to the small, singular window at the farthest wall of the basement. It was utilitaristically decorated, with boxes and a metal table covered with tools, butcher knives, saws, meat hammers and a variety of sharp and specific knives, and to your far left, multiple freezers. It was like a scene right out of a horror movie with a stupid and horny female character - you.

You panicked, breathing shallowly in rapid puffs, whines tearing through your sore throat, tears bubbling from your lashes and streaming down your cheeks while all you could do was cry and hyperventilate. Your mind raced with terrifying images, the dooming end of your pitiful life and restless death, unable to tell your loved ones goodbye.

Your cries had attracted the men’s attention, the floor creaking as they walked towards the basement door, you scrambled to your bed, covering yourself as best as you could and stared at the stairs with wide, fearful eyes. Light flooded the room when he opened the door, his feet appearing at the corner of the stairs, the gap between the steps and the railing. The slow walk and the suspenseful silence had you quivering, doe eyes gazing their way until both men stopped before you.

You let out pleading mumbles, body wracked with shivers from the slight breeze of cool air from the autumn air. You couldn’t fight them, you couldn’t stop them, Ghost and Soap were twice your size in height and weight, muscle-bound forms and specialised strategies. To them, you were the drunk girl they picked up from a party, deeming you fit for their next victim. So all you could do was cry and whimper as Ghost walked closer to you, feet stopping at the edge of your bed.

He crouched down, his face, now donning a new mask painted with a white skull, meeting your lowered one. You heard him sigh, closing your eyes when his fingers held your chin, forcing you to stare him in the eyes, his pretty brown hues, and you were too terrified to fight against him. Behind him stood Soap, smiling happily, yet unmoving and deaf to your teary plight, he had his hands stuffed into his pockets, his face portraying brightly his happy countenance.

“Oh, don’t cry,” Ghost’s deep, rumbling voice shook you, “We won’t do anything, pet.”

He called you pet, his pet. You were chained and naked in his basement where he probably killed and chopped up people into pieces before burying them in god knows where.

“Aye, we decided to keep ya,” Soap - or whatever his real name was - pushed, closing in to stand by your side, sitting beside you and cradling you in his arms, away from his partner, “I like ya a lot and so does Si, so stop crying, bonnie.”

“B-but you-” you stuttered, voice catching in your throat. “Ple-please, just let me-me go!”

“We're not letting you go, pet,” Ghost - Si as Soap called him - scoffed, his eyes lingering down your chest and bruised thighs, “Johnny and I’ll keep you safe, you’ll be happy with us, yeah?”

At least you knew the names of your captors, the names of the men you screamed last night rather than Soap and Ghost. Your big, handsome and strong kidnappers had normal names despite their unusual hobby: Johnny and Si.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973

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ickadori · 6 months

Text

++ 𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐈

[summary] @thelocalslutof7umblr : Didn't read the manga yet but Hakari seems like the kind of guy to come over twice a week to dick me down after he just spent all of my life savings on gambling

[cws] fem reader -> chubby. unedited.

[an] thank you for the idea!! sorry if you didn’t wanna be tagged :(

“Get out of my apartment, Kinji.” You say as soon as he steps through the door, the key that you had made him (and failed to take back from him on his last visit) held between his fingers. “And give me my key back.”

“This key?” He wags it in the air, heel of his sneaker knocking back into the door so it slams shut. He doesn’t bother locking it, instead swaggering over to where you’re sat on the sofa, gaze stubbornly glued to the television as one of your shows play. “Come give me a kiss and you can have it.”

“Keep it.”

“Tch.” He tosses the key onto the coffee table, toeing his shoes off a second later and leaving him in clean, white socks. “You still mad about last time?” You cut your eyes at him, and he can’t help the amused smirk that curves onto his lips. The last time he had been here, there hadn’t been much talking going on, or rather no intelligible talking, the blissed out babbles that had spilled from your mouth as he pounded away at your sopping cunt hardly counting as words.

Hakari hardly needed an excuse to plug you with his cock —the man was practically ready to go every second of every day, and once he got his hands on that plump, soft body of yours, you were ready to go, too, for as long as he wanted you to— but on this particular day, he had been itching for a loan, that ever present ‘fever’ creeping up on him. He felt lucky that day, lucky as a goddamn leprechaun, and he didn’t need that luck running out on the way to the bank, so he had went with the next closest thing; you.

You have been hesitant at first, having been on the losing end of one his fever’s time and time again, but this was different. He had been blazing, feverish, hot to the touch, and every nerve had been on end as he crowded you against the couch and let his hands help with the talking.

“You feel it, don’t you, baby?” He had rasped against your skin. “I’m hot—on fire, baby. This is the one.” A kiss here, a squeeze there, a compliment there, and you had been dripping, pussy wet and demanding as it sucked him in and held him tight. He spent a while working you up, making you cream around his dick and getting you nice and dumb before he finally dropped the big one—

Let me hold a bit of money, gorgeous. I’ll get it back to you, promise.

He had made sure to ask it right as he ground the tip of his cock against the gummy spot inside of you, and the rest had been history. You had given him the money with a dopey smile and a hole full of cum, and he had lost it all within the first ten minutes of sitting down at the machine.

Ya win some, ya lose some.

“You’re giving me the silent treatment, now?” He drops onto the cushion beside you, legs spreading wide and arms stretching across the back of it as he leans his head back, turning so his gaze falls on you. “I wanna be mad at that, but…” He lets his eyes take you in, teeth sinking into his bottom lip at the sight of you in a tight familiar, no bra in sight as the material stretches across a pair of heavy tits and hugs a soft belly. Your legs are folded up underneath you, the little shorts you wear leaving your thighs bare. “You look too fucking good to be mad at.”

You roll your eyes but otherwise keep your attention on the tv, and Hakari feels his cock fatten up in his boxers as he tugs on a strand of your hair.

“Quit.” You bat his hand away, finally turning to face him, and he acts on impulse, crowding into your space as he smacks a kiss onto your lips. “Kinji!” You reel back, and he closes a hand around the fat of your hip.

“You’re mad at me, I know. ‘M sorry, just can’t help it with you sitting beside me looking this pretty.” He kisses you again, this time longer, and you let him, your lips eventually moving against his own as you kiss him back. He grins into the kiss before pulling back. “I made a bad bet last time, it happens, but you know I’m good for it. I’ll triple it and get you right in no time.”

He pulls you to sit on his lap, your hot little cunt seated right on top of the bulge in his pants, and his hands smooth up your sides as he gently rocks you back and forth on him, head leaned against the back of the sofa as he looks up at you. “So stop being mad and let me make you feel good, ‘kay?” He gropes at a fat breast, fingers hungrily sinking into the flesh before he’s hooking a finger into your top and tugging it down, tongue licking at his lips as he watches them drop free. “Did you miss me?”

“I guess…but I miss my money more, Kinji. That was for my Christmas shopping!” His hand makes quick work for of his sweats and boxers, pushing them down to his thighs while his other hand lifts you up by your ass.

“Aw, you don’t gotta get me a gift, baby. Just looking at you is good enough for me.” The seat of your shorts (no panties, damn) is tugged to the side, and then you’re tugged back down on his lap, cock sliding through your folds as he gets himself nice and with your slick. You gasp, hands grasping at his shoulders.

“I -ah- wasn’t. It was gonna be for my coworkers -shit, Kinji-, for t-the secret santa.”

“Santa, huh?” He guides the tip of his cock to your hole, tongue trapped between his teeth as it catches. “I’m the only Santa you’ve gotta worry about, and I got a present just for you.” His hips buck up, cock pushing in deep, and your tits bounce in his face from the force, a high moan punched from your lungs as your lashes flutter.

He sinks further down into the cushions, feet planted on the floor as his calves flex, hands holding a tit each as he fucks you with wild abandon, sweat beading at his forehead as he bounces you in his lap. “You still mad at me?”

“Mm-nn,” your nails bite through the fabric of his hoodie and leave crescent shaped moons in his bronze skin. “No.” One hand leaves your chest to come up to his mouth, and he swipes his tongue gud against his thumb before he’s mashing it up against your clit and rubbing.

“You love me?”

“Uh-huh,” your head flies back, neck bared. “Yes, Kinji, yes! So much - I love it so much.”

“I said me, dummy, not my cock.” He huffs out a laugh, head inching forward to take a hard, puffy nipple into his mouth. “Mm, missed my sweet girl, too.” He mutters around you, hands smoothing up your back, over soft handles and up to rounded shoulders. He hungrily sucks at your breast, skin heating, sweltering, and cock swelling.

You start spouting off nonsense, pussy squeezing down tight around him, and Hakari holds you by your ass, quickly swapping your positions so you’re laid back against the cushions, your thighs wrapped around his hips as he pistons in and out of you, mouth still latched to your breast.

“Kinji…KinjiKinjiKinjiKinji!” You come with a shout, cunt holding him tight, and he stills inside you, balls drawing up before he’s groaning from deep in his chest, cum coating your walls with slow, drawn out spurts. He releases your breast with a pop, mouth dragging up your skin until his tongue is sliding in your own mouth to rub along side yours.

Your hands smooth against his face, thumbs petting at the skin under his eyes, and he pulls back a bit, pecking at your lips once, twice, and thrice for good measure. You smile, and he chuckles, the sound low and gravelly.

“You still want your key back?”

“No,” you sigh. “But I do want my money back, with interest.”

#hakari x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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kisakis-boyfriend · 1 month

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Untitled

Pairings: Takemichi x reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Takemichi, rough sex, dacryphilia, pillow princess Michi, dirty talk, daddy kink, degradation

Genre/Format: Smut; Oneshot

Tagging: @wazabii @hxpel3s5-slxxt (if you'd like your tag removed please lmk!)

Author's Note: Not requested of me specifically, but I did promise to write a lil something something featuring Michi and rougher sex. So, here it is!

“Aah-!” Another shrill scream bounces off the walls of his bedroom, proceeded by a sharp slap.

Your ragged panting is barely audible over the sound of your hips beating Takemichi's ass — his skin turning an even deeper shade of pinkish red with every collision.

“Fuck, haha... look at you, baby,” you rasped, “look at you taking me nice 'n deep like that. I told ya you'd be able to handle this dick.”

The words didn't quite make it past his lips, instead turning into a whimper that tumbled out when Takemichi tried to protest. He's always so coy — "nooo it won't fit! You're way too big!" he'd say, despite the fact that you regularly wreck his holes. I mean, yeah, you were pretty thick down there, but your partner has proven time and time again that that's not much of a problem.

Even now, as his nails dig into his sheets and tears stain them, Takemichi's walls grip you like a vice; pulling your cock further inside with every motion. And the way his once coherent speech turns into babbles, all because you're rearranging his insides? Priceless.

“Ah fuck-! Mm yeah, take it, baby. Take daddy's cock-” It's all the little slut can do to keep his hips up in the air; his legs may as well have become jelly at this point with the way his thighs shake when you pull back — nearly pulling out — then snap back as if there's some magnetic pull between you two.

Your little pillow princess is full-on sobbing as his teeth grind against the fabric of his sheets. Yet another slap to his ass and Takemichi somehow cries harder, getting choked on his own spit.

Meanwhile, you have been holding back, desperate not to cum just yet so that you can stay inside your lil princess for a while longer. But that ache deep inside of you has only built up, exacerbated by Takemichi's tight hole wrapped around your dick. If only he didn't feel so fucking good, then maybe tonight could last a little longer...

“Gonna fuckin' cum... Hah... Where does my little whore want it, huh?”

No response. Only a drawn out whine where Takemichi's face is buried in the mattress.

You can't stifle the laugh that comes out of your mouth. “Inside it is, then. Ngh-!”

With a few more deep thrusts, you finally explode inside your partner — gushing white, hot ropes that fill him up as you grab a handful of his hair and push his head down further, cutting off the pathetic thing's oxygen for a moment.

“O-ooh shit... haha... damn, baby, you took everything I had, didn't ya?” You tease, exhaling the breath you'd held in during your climax.

Your hands slid down your darling's back, moving towards his hips to rub soothing circles on the skin, then roaming over more of his smaller body — Takemichi's breathing steadies as you do this, gradually calming down until his muscles release their held tension. After a moment, you pull out, leaving your partner's hole gaping, as you usually do, and leaking a fat glob of your cum.

Rolling over onto his side, Takemichi searches for your hand; which you happily oblige him, and meet his touch. Your thumb brushes over his knuckles and you lean down to kiss them before laying down next to him.

“You ok?”

He nods. “Mhm... felt really nice...”

A smile spreads across your face as you watch him blink lazily; best to help him over to the bathroom before he falls asleep, or before you fall asleep, for that matter. And after you're both cleaned up and relaxed, you'll have a little rest together.

Before you roll over and out of his bed, you place a tender kiss on Takemichi's forehead, giggling along with him.

#my writing #requested #hanagaki takemichi #takemichi smut #takemichi x reader #takemichi x male reader #sub takemichi #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x male reader #male reader #dom reader #top reader #dom male reader #sub male character #oneshot

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witchwyfe · 8 months

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best way to spend a summer day - kook friend group

pairing - (non-canon) platonic!kook friend group x female reader, (non canon) platonic!rafe cameron x female reader, (non canon) platonic!topper thornton x female reader, (non canon) platonic!kelce x female reader

précis - golfing with the boys!

content/warnings - mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, mentions of eating, language

word count - 818

"What if we--"

"No."

"Please!"

"No."

"Please angel, we'll only do 9 holes and then buy you lunch after." Topper, ever the mediator, offers.

"You were gonna buy me lunch anyway."

Rafe rolls his eyes and you snicker, leaning back in the lounge chair you're resting in.

"I just don't understand why this how y'all want to spend your time. Kelce's internship and Rafe's study abroad start in one month, we're wasting our one month of summer by fucking hitting balls on grass."

You're met with three glares and simultaneous responses.

"Okay, you can't say 'we' if you haven't even been going."

"There is way more technique than just hitting balls."

"Hey!"

"And what would you suggest we do then, mamas?" Kelce asks, raising an eyebrow over his sunglasses.

Your face warms at being put on the spot, three gazes stuck patiently on you.

"I don't know, shopping on the mainland, movie nights, brunch at the island club--"

"You can have island club drinks on the golf cart!" Rafe exclaims, throwing his arms up before slapping them at his sides. "And we'll get brunch afterwards."

You sigh dramatically. "9 holes? Not 18?"

Rafe smiles, knowing they've already won. "Of course."

Topper picks you up bright and early the next morning, Rafe and Kelce already packed into the backseat with one set of clubs, the other two in the trunk.

"Morning boys." You smile sarcastically, climbing into the front passenger seat.

"Good morning mamas." Kelce smiles. "Thank you for coming."

"Hm, y'all better make it worth my while." You joke.

"Getting to spend time with your best friends isn't worth it?" Rafe asks, feigning offense.

"Shut up," You groan. "You guys know I love you. Even when you make me golf."

They all made a big deal about your new Lululemon golf dress, and promise to take cute pictures of you in the golf cart, all by the time you pull up to the country club.

You juggle your sunglasses, phone, and water bottle once Rafe opens the door for you.

"Thank you Rafe," You smile, reaching up to pinch his cheeks. "You're such a gentleman."

You wait with Kelce while the other two go to get the cart. You let their clubs stay propped up against your legs so that don't fall to the ground.

Topper takes the purple Stanley--that he got you for Christmas--from your hands and sets it into the cup holder. You help them load up their clubs then you're making yourself comfortable in the front again.

"Do they sell cocktails at the beverage carts?" You wonder. "Or should I grab one now before we go?"

"Think they only sell beer, babe." Kelce frowns. "And they don't allow open cups on the course."

You groan, leaning your head back. Rafe digs around in his golf bag, brandishing a small bottle of champagne.

"Don't worry bestie girl, we didn't forget about you." He smiles, shoving the bottle back inside. "Gonna get you some orange juice from the bev cart and you can make a mimosa."

"Rafe!" You cry, throwing your arms around him. "You're the best!"

"I know, I know," He smirks. "Aren't you glad you came with us, now?"

"I guess," You grumble, playfully rolling your eyes.

You sit comfortably in the golf cart, while your friends play, sipping on the mimosa Rafe mixed you, scrolling on social media, and occasionally reminding the boys to reapply their sunscreen.

Kelce even dragged you out to take a swing and they all cheered you on when you failed miserably, taking a sloppy bow before skipping back to the golf cart.

Once you’re back at the club, seated at your favorite table, you’re lightly clasping your mimosa glass in your hand—this one prepared by your waiter and not Rafe with his Blender bottle.

“I think it tasted better when you made it, Rafe.” You frown, taking another sip anyway.

“'Course it did.” He grins smugly.

You pull a lip gloss from the handy pocket in your golf outfit, coating a thick layer over your lips. You take your napkin and work it over the rim of your glass too, even though you'll get more gloss stuck to it on your next sip.

"You're just one of the boys, aren't you?" Topper teases, just to mess with you.

You cap your gloss and set it on the table, narrowing your eyes into a glare at Topper. "No, I am not."

"Yeah, she's like our bratty little sister." Rafe pipes up, reaching over the table to steal a handful of your fries.

"Yeah, I'm the bratty one." You smack Rafe's hand, grinning when he whines. "And I'm literally older than you, Rafe."

"By like two months!" He argues.

"Okay and?" You retort. "Still older."

He makes a point by stealing more of your fries.

"Brat. You know you're the one paying for those, right?"

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longhardtransitionreturns · 5 months

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Twilight Sleep

Colonel Hutcherson's blonde bombshell wife has been making waves in our small town since the moment she got off the train in a bright red pin up dress with more creamy cleavage on display than our poor farm boys had ever seen. Her sea green eyes, red lips, and shapely hips on top of the longest set of gams in stilettos to ever set foot here immediately made her gossip fodder for the bar flies and the busy bodies.

They said she couldn't buy bras off the rack because her breasts were so big. That she sent all the way to New York for her stockings. That her hair was falling out because of all the peroxide she bought to keep her hair a brilliant platinum white.

Either she already had a baby growing in that flat belly of hers when she came to town or Colonel Hutcherson put one in her right quick because it wasn't long before Ashley Hutcherson’s already obscene titties were spilling out of her tops and her belly was growing straight out like a bullet. She wore her dresses so tight the whole town knew the very day her belly button popped from an innie to an outie.

I knew Ashley, of course, because I was her OBGYN. One thing I figured out quickly is there were no thoughts behind those pretty eyes. Ashley was so dumb she could barely string a sentence together and I had to explain to her how her baby was going to come out of her tiny little fuck hole. The look of horror on her face when she realized she was going to have to push a watermelon out from between her legs was priceless.

And that was without me telling her that she had an extremely narrow pelvis and Colonel Hutcherson made such large babies his last wife had labored for 3 days to squeeze a 14 pounder out. She could barely walk for weeks and she was a regular size farm girl.

Ashley was so relieved when I told her about the miracles of twilight sleep I almost popped in my pants right there. She was delighted she’d just go to sleep and wake up with a baby, none of the mess of having to push it out.

When the time came, Colonel Hutcherson delivered her to my home surgery when her pains were regularly five minutes apart. She was so swollen by that point she was wearing nothing but a white silk robe trimmed with lace over her shoulders. Her pretty face was screwed up in discomfort when I opened the car door to help her out.

Her eyes lit up with relief when she saw me.

“Oh, doctor, I’m so glad to see you. I’m ready to go to sleep now. I don't like how my tummy feels. It hurts!”

She clutched my arm with one hand and her massive, straining belly with the other as we walked inside. We bid goodbye to her husband at the door and I promised to call him. Her kissed her on the cheek and told her to mind the doctor.

She shivered when I led her into the delivery room and she spotted the steel table in the middle of the room. Her eyes went immediately to the stirrups.

“We’ll put your legs up there to help the baby come, honey, but first we have to get you ready to go to sleep.”

I coaxed her out of her robe, taking a moment to admire her dark, swollen areolas and how the baby had settled low in her elongated belly. She was so big I had to help her up on to the table. She let out a grunt of discomfort as she lay back and the full weight of her overloaded womb and her massive milk laden tits settled on her small frame.

She was pliant as I strapped her legs into the stirrups but she gasped sharply when I ran my finger through her folds.

“Let's get you ready, Ashley.”

I didn't bother to explain what I was doing or apologize for the cold temperature of the shaving cream as I spread it over her vulva. She had just a smattering of blonde curls but I ran my razor over them anyway just to have a clean work surface.

“That's a good girl,” I reassured as Ashely moaned through a contraction while I wiped the cream and hair away. She was a groaner but she was clearly trying not to writhe too much in the stirrups.

I let her recover from the contraction while I prepared the enema supplies. When I approached her with the tip of the tube and a bit of lube, I saw fear flash across her face for the first time.

“Where's that gonna go?”

I smiled reassuringly. “We need to clean out your insides to make room for the baby.”

I slipped it in quick, shushing Ashley's yelp of protest, and allowed the warm water to start flowing. She was dumb but quickly figured out what was happening when an urgent pressure started to build in her bowels.

“Ow, ow, my belly, it's too full already! It hurts!” She rubbed the underside of her aching orb, trying to twist to the side to alleviate the pain in her gurgling gut but stopped by the straps on her ankles in the stirrups. “I feel like I need to poop, why are you doing this? Ow!”

I pressed my palm against her pelvis, rubbing firmly. She cried out in protest.

“We wouldn't want you to poop on me or your baby's head, no would we, Ashley? I can't believe you're being such a bad girl. I'm sure the Colonel told you to do as the doctor says.”

Ashley looked betrayed now, scared, in indescribable pain, exposed on a table with no way to know what was coming next or to do anything to stop it.

As if to illustrate the point a contraction gripped Ashely's roiling abdomen and she screamed, full throated, as tears streamed down her face. The agony of contracting with a full bag of warm, salty water in her ass broke any last semblance of composure and Ashley started begging me to make the pain stop.

I secured the catch bag underneath her and prepared the drugs I would need to administer twilight sleep while Ashley screamed and pleaded her way through three more contractions. I realized quickly she would need extra restraints while under because she was tossing her aching body wildly, huge tits swinging.

When I finally removed the plug the noise the laboring woman made was so erotic I got hard instantly. It was a groan of agonized relief followed immediately by a yelp of pain when yet another contraction closed around her middle.

Ashley was spent, legs splayed limply, her bowels empty and her ass clenching. The baby had dropped so low by this point she was starting to feel him in her aching hips. She was unimaginably full and the ordeal of the enema had taken it out of her. After the pain passed, she gathered her composure enough to look up at me beseechingly.

“Put me out now, please. I don’t want to hurt this bad anymore.”

I had to adjust my rock hard cocktail before moving to her side to slip my special cocktail into her IV. I stroked her face as she started blinking and nodding her head from side to side. I watched as awareness left her eyes and her mouth dropped open with a weak groan.

“Ashley?” I tapped her cheeks, moving her jaw from side to side. Her green eyes stared up without recognition. I reached down and tweaked her engorged nipple and her lips opened to emit a moan of pain.

This was my crowning, pun intended, achievement. I'd perfected a scopolamine cocktail that turns the patient’s brain to mush but leaves her aware enough to feel and respond to the pain of labor in order to be a beautiful, brain dead birthing doll for my and my patron's pleasure.

I left Ashely lying on the bed, contracting now about every three minutes and really feeling it, measuring by her noises, to make a phone call. Then I put an oxygen cannula under her nose, cleaned her up between her legs, checked her dilation, and wrapped her wrists and ankles in towels so there wouldn't be any questions about bruises.

When John Hutcherson arrived, he looked as eager to get the night started as I was. We'd met during the war when I served as the chief medical officer of his battlefield command. We found out one pregnant local girl later that we shared some frowned upon predilections and now, ten years and a lifetime of experience later, we partake of his wealth and my medical genius as often as we can without raising suspicions.

It's John's wife so, of course, he gets to go first and however he likes. He loses his pants quickly after he walks in and sees her strapped spread eagle, her arms straight out and tied to the table and her legs secured in stirrups. She's screaming through a contraction and oblivious to our presence.

John moves on her like an animal in heat, plunging his generous, throbbing member into her exposed, dilating cunt without any preamble. She shouts as she is brutally and unexpectedly skewered on his cock while a contraction is still ripping through her. He doesn't give her even a moment before he starts pistoning in and out of her so hard her back is slapping up and down on the steel table.

Her titties bounce lewdly, slapping from side to side atop her grotesquely swollen belly, as he rails her with all his strength. I finally go up and hold Ashley’s head to keep in from hitting the table due to the force of her husband’s pounding. Her leaking green eyes are filled with fear and pain but it’s also clear the struggling woman isn’t capable of understanding what’s happening to her. Her world has narrowed to the pain and fullness in her tits, hips, and cunt, and as far as she is concerned, it’s never ending.

Hutcherson blows his first load when she has an especially hard contraction on his cock. He lets out a surprised gasp and then he’s jerking as he’s milked by his wife’s laboring uterus. Their cries blend in the air, one of utter pain and the other of blissful pleasure.

When he’s finally able to pull out, his flagging cock plops loose with a squelching sound. His cum mixed with blood and amniotic fluid floods out of her and on to the cloth below.

The brutal pounding leaves Ashley listless and moaning with a little bit of drool making its way down her chin. It’s part of the beauty of the drug that even though she’s blasted out of her mind, her body is going to push the baby out no matter what.

Over the next several hours, we take turns playing with her engorged nipples, sucking them to induce contractions. John sticks his hand up her through a couple, shivering with arousal when she cries out and tries to get away from the intrusion. Eventually her agonized sounds change to desperate screeches as transition hits and the contractions become longer and unbearable. We each dip into her a few times while she endures the most painful part of labor and both barely keep from cumming when she clamps down on our dicks and wails.

It takes her hours to get the baby down but it’s huge in her tiny pelvis and when it gets lodged in her hips, she starts vocalizing low, loud grunts as her body tries to expel the huge head. I almost blew my load too soon when I wedged my dick up against her massive stomach and rolled her hips side to side to help urge the huge load down.

She screamed bloody murder when it finally crowned and John held it there for a good long while, stroking her engorged clit and easing the head out so she didn’t tear. The body was huge, however, and we had to put her legs as far back as we could to help her deliver the shoulders. Her cries of pain echoed off the walls as I roughly jerked the rest of the body out of her sore cunny. A huge flood of liquid shot out of her bloody slit and she was left with her pussy bared, gaped open and dripping birth fluid.

I handed the baby off to my loyal nurse who maintained the nursery in the next room and turned back to my friend. He was hard a rock, stroking his wife’s ruined cunny. She was still visibly hurting, both from the sheer size of what just came out and the after birth contractions.

I climbed on top of the beg, squatted over her deflated belly, and put my dick in between her massive tits. Behind me John let out an erotic groan as he sunk his massive length deep into his wife’s loose, bleeding pussy. It made a nasty squelching sound when he pulled all the way back out and slammed back in as hard as he could. He proceeded to brutally rail his wife’s post birth pussy and I came all over her tits while she flopped up and down on the bed, screaming from the pain.

The next time I saw Lucy, she was back in her white silk robe, a 17lb baby suckling at her ample breast. She’d reapplied her lipstick but her eyes were bloodshot and she looked like she’d been through hell. She woke up initially screaming about the pain in her pussy and she was still sitting awkwardly, an ice pack on her bruised and throbbing sex.

That being said, she was thrilled she didn’t remember a single bit of it. She thanked me profusely and told her husband she wanted me to deliver all of her babies. Once her poor little cunny healed, of course.

Josh and I shared a look over her head. We were already counting down to Ashley’s next labor and delivery.

#birth kink #maesiophilia #preggo kink #painful birth #hospital birth #medfet #labor and delivery #giving birth #birth #twilight sleep #medical malpractice #preggo fantasy #fantasy

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writingoddess1125 · 6 months

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Hockey AU Buggy

Hockey Buggy x GNReader

Fluffy Fluff Romance

Well Damn I come back with a writers block so bad not even a shotgun to the ass could blow it out! Anywho watched some TV and got this idea! Enjoy 💕

• Ah the Big Top Hockey Team- The best of the worse in Hockey.

• The Famed Center Clown Star of the Rink- Buggy.

• The Nickname coming from both his personality and the bright red nose he got from rosacea/cold

• Buggy is a notorious asshole to everyone- His long blue hair often poking out his helmet like little tuffs- often making him look ridiculous.

• He chews on his bright red mouth guard constantly and it looks like a permanent red smile shifting over his face when he sits out or is waiting.

• He and his team are lazy- but dirty players. Being the first to break out in fights and first to fuck up a play.

• Wouldn't be the first time Buggy punches someone in the back of the head and gets sat out for retaliation

• Missing a Tooth after a bad scuffle with the Red Hair Team a few years back so wears a clip in tooth to cover it.

• You were the journalist for the Hockey division- new and having to sit at almost every game in your area. This being no different as you sit with your laptop on your lap typing everything down. Not noticing you caught a certain centers eye-

• Buggy slows down right infront of you- Looking you up and down as he gave a wicked grin-

• "Ay! Haven't seen you here before gorgeous" Buggy chimes in, making you raise a brow at the man.

• "You're in a active game?-" You point out, gesturing to his team and the opposing team behind him currently fighting on the Rink while the poor ref tries to break it up.

• "They can wait- Your phone number however cant" He said with a grin- You laughing at his antics and shake your head.

• "Well, Seems like you're gonna have to wait- Cause you ain't getting it" You wink- Seeing his face freeze in both shock and interest at yohr rejection.

• Oh it Was On!

• Everytime you were at a game, so was Buggy. Either playing or not he would show up and shoot his shot at you.

• Each time you'd reject him. Some days he took it like a champ and others he would throw a bitch fit.

• However he didn't quit- even after a solid year he hadn't stopped. While you rejected him romantically it didn't mean you hadn't become good friends with him and his team.

• "I swear to God I'd be so good to you" He said, leaned against the wall. Dressed in his gear as his game was starting up soon. You smirk at this, not used to a more Eros form of remark.

• "Oh? Switching up the flirting Clown Boy?" You mused. However looking in his eyes you don't see lust like all the times before- No this was different.

• "I'd rub your feet good, Cook you dinner- make you fruit covered in chocolate. Just let me shoot my shot (Y/N) I promise"

• You stare at him surprised- A feeling of warmth hitting your face. "G-Go play. Your game is soon"

• He nods accepting what he felt was another rejection as he headed off to the rink.. Your heart seemingly skipping some beats.

• "I need your quote from the last game" You say, Seated in a Cafe so you could interview Buggy. However he was being difficult and turned facing away from you in the chair. "Which would be easier if you turned to face me"

• "Don't know about that- If I face you I may blow a hole through the table-" He deadpanned which made your eyes roll.

• "Well try-"

• "Alright but you look like that so don't be surprised if I look like I wanna be underneath you" He said with a smile, turning in his seat to take you in fully. A bright smile on his face-

• "Wow-" He said like he was blown away by you. "Quote- Now" You emphasize not wanting to fall into his new attempt at you.

• "I'll Honor you to the day I die- I Swear.. And you can quote that" He said with a bright smile, Winking at you and staring with only love in his eye.

• This continued for a week- And in truth your resolve was starting to break. It wasn't just flirting anymore but true interest in you and desire.

• It was getting harder and harder to reject him.. Maybe you liked his red nose, his blue hair or the way he giggled.

• However it wasn't till the first game of the new season that things changed. He had come to you with roses this time and his jersey.

• This was the most that people had ever showed up for a Big Top Game and it showed by how clean the team seemed for once. Including Buggy-

• His hair in a ponytail as he held the items out to you, stopping the flow of his team going on the Rink just for this.

• "Buggy what are you-" He cut you off with a desperate look in his eyes.

• "One chance- Give me a Moment and I swear, I'll make it last a lifetime"

• You stare at him, smiling as held put the jersey to you and flowers to you. A grin on his face as you shake your head with a chuckle, taking the gifts from him.

• His face lit up like you'd given him a million dollars and a blow job.

• "You get one moment- Make it count"

• That night you'd seen he had actually tried- putting out the best plays you'd ever seen and winning the game that night for the first time.

• The whole time he was staring at you as well

• Seemed all he really needed was that chance-

#x reader #one piece #one peice x reader #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader

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angelpuns · 1 year

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Kid Leo Au: Fanfic

| Here's the old fic I promised <3 I don't like the way I wrote it so it won't be posted on ao3, but I figured it'd be a fun supplementary reading for the comic! |

CW: Almost death/dying, uh some crying.

Leo couldn't hear or see Krang Prime anymore. A fact that was both comforting and terrifying.

His body ached, the lack of a distraction making his wounds throb in time with his heartbeat. He tried to mentally note his injuries, to think of how he would have treated them if he ever got home.

Something in him told him he wouldn't be going home, though.

And as much as he had been prepared for that….it still made his chest ache.

He squeezed the picture of his family a little tighter, letting his tears dissolve into space.

The thought almost made him want to laugh. He hadn't cried like this in so long, who knew all it took was having the shit beat out of him and being left alone in another dimension? That wasn't a good joke. He was pretty sure it wasn't a joke at all, actually.

That made the internal laughter die off pretty quick.

It was so..cold. Not cold, but…there was an absence of warmth. If anything, it felt like…nothing. Like he was floating through nothing.

The silence pierced his ears, the impenetrable ringing making him shake his head - an attempt to make some sort of sound that wasn't swallowed up by the black hole around him. He did it again and again, unable to get rid of the all-consuming silence around him. His ears rang with it - the effect a lot like being trapped in a soundproof room.

Hell, he preferred the krang shouting at him and beating him into the ground over the silence. At least he didn't feel like he was losing his mind. If he concentrated just so, he could hear his heartbeat. He shivered involuntarily, shaking his head again to try and focus on something - anything, else.

The silence droned on for several minutes, Leo trying to distract himself from it by reminding himself what it was all for. Who it was all for. He stole a glance at the picture through bleary eyes. It was a good picture. They all looked so happy.

Leo stifled the remainder of his tears and let out a long sigh.

He could handle the choking, stifling quiet.

He could take a little silence before Kraang Prime inevitably wiped him off the face of the Earth. Or -since they weren't exactly on Earth - blipped him out of existence.

The thought made him feel nauseous, though that could be from the sensation of weightlessness. Like he was falling through the air in slow motion - never to hit the ground again.

More tears fell.

Who was he kidding - he wasn't meant to be alone like this. He'd never been alone before. He'd always..he'd always had someone.

Leo's sniffles were the only thing that broke the silence, and even that didn't last long.

Years of silently crying in his room were not being his friend right now. He wished he'd been a screamer. He wished he'd thrown tantrums and screamed along with his music and wailed at the top of his lungs.

At least then it wouldn't be so painfully quiet.

The ringing continued, Leo finally managing to zone out a little when a sort of 'fizzle-pop' sound started up somewhere behind him.

Warmth spread on his shell, a faint glow peeking out from behind him. A crackling sound filled the air, Leo rolling over in the big open space to see what it was. His heart raced at the thought that it was the kraang again, just waiting for him to turn around before striking him to the ground again.

A bright orange light flooded his vision. Was this what everyone talked about? The light? He'd never really believed in that stuff, but he imagined this is what it might be like. Good to know everyone else was right - he couldn't help but feel a little bitter about being so wrong.

The light grew, Leo squinting against it. It was warm, taking up his entire vision. It almost looked as if the very sky had broken open. But it was so warm, it must have been that light. The one that you weren't supposed to go into. and yet he wanted so badly to go into it.

Leo reached for it, wanting nothing more than to be cradled in that light, for the crackling sound to invade his senses and get rid of that horrible ringing. Even if it was the end, it was a hell of a lot nicer than the silence.

He squinted, eyes adjusting to the light as it grew larger and larger. As it did, he recognized it for what it was.

A portal.

His brothers took shape beyond the light, grinning at him with shining eyes. Like they were waiting for him, just behind that opening. He thought it might be a hallucination at first, but that didn't stop him from dropping a solid one-liner.

He winced at the effort, but grinned nonetheless, " took you guys long enough".

Nice One, Leo.

Even if this was some hallucination right before he died, he could still get a joke or two in.

To his surprise, Raph activated his ninpo and reached out with one of his large, red hands, grasping Leo's in it.

It was warm. It shouldn't have been warm, but it was to him. Leo could sob from the feeling. More tears bubbled up from his chest and he grinned up at his brothers, hurrying to blink them away before they saw. He couldn't be caught crying now, after all that had happened.

Raph tugged hard, pulling him closer and closer to the portal.

If he had the energy, he'd make a joke about how this was way better than floating in a wasteland. Leo wanted nothing more than to hear them laugh, even if it was fake. Even if he made the world's worst pun.

The feeling vanished almost immediately when the rush of air and the screech of the kraang came from just under him. He chanced a glance back, the giant red eye staring back at him. Even if it was just armor, it felt like it stared right through him.

Metal claws surrounded him, and Leo almost pulled his arm back - out of Raph's grasp. He wouldn't let the krang win - he couldn't let them win.

He glanced back again, his chest seizing a little at how close he was already. But then Donnie shouted from the portal and Leo turned his attention back on his brothers. He didn't want the last thing he saw to be that red eye.

If he made it out of this alive, he'd have to tell Donnie how badass he looked just then. The thought passed so quickly it almost made him laugh - even if he was so sure the kraang was gonna grab him.

The drill went flying past Leo and into the kraang's face, Raph dragging him to the portal with all the force he could. Leo went flying, the breeze as the smells and the sounds of New York hitting him all at once. He landed hard on Raph's plastron, groaning when he was deposited on the ground instead.

Now that he had gravity back, everything hurt even worse.

"gu-guys!?"

Leo winced, but sat up a bit and looked at his younger brother.

Mikey was trembling all over, a faint orange glow still emitting from his shaking limbs. He held his hands out in front of him, staring down as they crackled, pieces flecking off and floating away in the breeze. He dropped to his knees, Raph and Donnie rushing to his side. The portal had zipped out of existence, but Mikey was still crumbling.

Leo rolled onto his knees, his wounds screaming for him to stop.

No, no, he wouldn't lose Mikey like this. He wouldn't let his little brother die. Not like this, not for him.

Leo crawled over on shaky limbs, holding back groans of pain. He had to do something. There had to be something he could do. His ribs ached with each breath, but Leo grabbed for his brother, already pulling him close - as if he had any clue what to do for him.

" Le-leo!" Mikey was staring at him, his arms starting to fleck away from the fingertips down. Leo could only stare for a moment, eyes already burning with tears again.

To his credit, Mikey gave him a tearful grin. Like he was glad to have done it.

But Leo would never forgive himself.

" No, no, c'Mon Mikey-" Leo winced, squeezing Mikey a little in his arms. He didn't know what to do. His thoughts were zipping by, all the medical knowledge in the world doing him no good. He didn't know anything about this.

Donnie put a hand on his shoulder, Raph taking up the other side. They each squeezed, hands trembling where they touched him. There had to be something…anything they could do.

Leo couldn't help it. He let out a sob. He did seem to be crying a lot lately, huh?

Mikey was still shaking, his eyes squeezed shut. Leo hated it - he could feel how scared Mikey was. How terrified he was to be dying.

There had to be something- anything!

Leo squeezed him tighter, trying to hold his brother together like glue - keep him here just a little longer while he thought of a plan.

Think, Leo! Think! You're supposed to be the leader-

Leo begged for something - for any kind of plan. He thought back to everything they knew about their ninpo- maybe his powers?

Something. Anything.

" I WO-WON'T LET YOU GO, MIKEY!" he sobbed, curling into his brother and just hoping for something to happen. Raph choked back a sob next to him, gripping his shoulder a little too hard.

Something in him broke free with that, his powers crackling at his fingertips. He felt lighter suddenly, as blue lightning crackled down his arms and into his younger brother's form.

Leo shut his eyes, feeling nauseous, but he couldn't stop! Mikey needed him-

He could feel it, he could feel the power flowing through him and into Mikey - like a current of a river rushing and rushing and rushing towards his brother.

And it was working.

Leo chanced a glance at Mikey - his eyes had shut, but he was reforming. Blue light filled in the cracks, Mikey's arms slowly taking shape once again.

Leo grinned, tears slipping down his cheeks. He closed his eyes and squeezed tighter, sobbing into the embrace. He felt like something was being ripped from his very being, but it'd be worth it. It'd be worth it to keep Mikey safe.

The current continued. He willed it to continue until Mikey was fixed, until he was better and every piece of him was back in place. The ground swayed beneath him with each pulse of energy that left his body, but he had to keep going. He had to fix his brother.

Something was changing for him, too, but he couldn't place it.

It didn't matter.

He couldn't stop until Mikey was back together again.

He rode out the feeling of nausea. He could do this.

He could do it.

" I got you, little brother, " He murmured, letting the feeling take over. The blue light consumed him - he felt himself slipping away and checked once more to be sure it had worked before letting himself succumb to the blue light of his own powers. Everything was hazy and blue and he felt lighter than air. His heart was racing, his breath coming out in ragged pants.

He felt himself fall into Raph's side, someone saying something. He couldn't hear them.

Mikey was safe. Mikey was safe and he had done all he could.

As long as Mikey was safe, he could rest.

He could finally rest.

Donnie was not a fan of all this mystic stuff. Even if he had somewhat mastered his own powers, his brothers' powers still eluded him. Especially now that Mikey had mystic hands or whatever. Raph's clone thing was somewhat more tangible ( literally ), but Leo and Mikey's abilities still felt too unreal to explain. He'd tried once to take a scientific approach with Leo's portals and met a wall.

He couldn't even begin to explain what seemed to be a literal demon living in Mikey's weapon - not to mention the whole chain and fire business - it was all too much for him to comprehend. He was somewhat relieved when he'd gotten his nunchucks back - at least there wasn't some sort of creature living in them. He hoped.

But this took it to a new level.

It was one thing for Mikey to open an interdimensional portal, it was another to watch Leo use his powers to fix Mikey's dissolving form.

And then to watch him shrink into blue light and become a small child. He felt the same as when Mikey had opened the portal, Leo's powers seeping into his arm and pulling something from him - pulling his energy from him. His skin had crackled and lit up just like Mikey's, but with a brilliant blue light shining through it. And he didn't dissolve into nothingness like Mikey had been doing.

His first thought was time travel, but his second thought was what if this Leo had sustained the same injuries?

He could worry about the why's and how's later, for now they all needed immediate medical attention. He couldn't see anything outwardly, but it was hard to tell when Leo was entangled within his wraps and sash, the pieces of fabric too large for him now.

" Raph, call April, Papa and Casey Jr. And tell them to meet us at the lair, " He informed, taking a deep breath so he could keep it together. He'd had a lot of ups and downs for the past few minutes, but he could keep it together to play family doctor for a bit.

Mikey was awake, at least, and was no longer dissolving into thin air. He sat up, staring in surprise at the literal child that had replaced Leo. Or, was Leo. Was Leo - but was also a child. Ugh, it was too much to think about right now. He'd have to file the time travel nonsense away for now.

" did…did everyone else see that?" Mikey stammered out, his eyes moving from his arms to Leo, " I'm - he healed me!"

" yes, and probably not without major consequences - oh would you look at that, major consequences, " he motioned to Leo. Or tot Leo. Little Leo. He wasn't sure What to call him. Hopefully it wouldn't be a problem for too long.

Raph had broken from his own shocked stare to do as Donnie had asked, currently on the phone with April - if Donnie had to guess from the over exaggerated shouting on the other end. He wondered if she and their father were okay. If Casey was okay. If anyone had been majorly injured.

Donnie caught himself beginning to zone out and shook himself out of it. Right. Act now, shutdown later.

He pulled Leo into his arms, the kid squirming a little at the touch.

" Stop- stop moving, " He hissed, keeping Leo close to his chest. The slider didn't seem to acknowledge him. He seemed to be just as out of it as Donnie felt.

Donnie's mind supplied a concerning amount of reasons why, and he found himself hurrying to stand and start for the lair. They had to get home and check him for injuries fast. He mentally checked off what he remembered about concussions - pizza supreme, what if Leo had accidentally fried his brain? Was that even possible? Could mystic powers do that?

" Donnie?" Mikey was following him. Good, they needed to get a move on.

" We've got to hurry- if 'child Leo' has sustained the same injuries, we're working on borrowed time. We'll have to deduce why this happened later, " He rambled out, letting his feet carry him in the direction of what he hoped was the right way home. He glanced at his wrist-tech, the crack in the screen making it difficult to read. " I assume its something to do with his powers, but I don't have- I can't make a clear enough hypothesis just yet"

He knew he was being snippy, even for him, but talking hurt.

Opening his mouth and forming words felt like the worst thing in the world, but he willed himself to hold it together.

Hold it together for Leo.

Kid Leo Masterpost

#rottmnt #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt leo #rottmnt comic #rottmnt fanfic #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt kid leo au #kid leo au

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strangeshoepatrolbandit · 1 year

Text

Sunshine follows with Sunfall

BabyDaddy!Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: Jason and You have had a past relationship, resulting in your daughter. After jason goes MIA for a whole year, he finally returns to Gotham. Will the two of you rekindle your relationship, or will he end up leaving again?

Warnings: Jason is an absent father, doubts.

@keira324 Not only inspired this but also helped me fill in some plot holes.

Series Masterlist

~☆~

"Jason, would you please take your kid this weekend. Jude misses you."

"You know I cant."

"Jason please."

"It's dangerous."

That was the last conversation you had with Jason before he went no contact. A phone call where you asked him to be in his daughter's life. Your daughters life.

You had made countless calls to Roy, trying to see if he had any contact with Jason. Alas, he told you no.

Jason's family had been all over when you told them, Bruce even bought you an apartment that was closer to the Manor since you wouldn't move in with them. He always tried to be helpful. They all did, but Judith isn't their child. She's yours. They shouldn't have to take care of her where Jason was lacking.

When you told him you were pregnant, he had promised to always be there. But promises are just words.

Around the time of your due date, he had been doubting if this was a good idea. He was doubting if having your daughter was a good idea. After Judith was brought home, you and Jason started having fights, fights that ultimately led him to move out. He was still present in her life after that. When she was around three, his visits became spotty. You knew about his work as Red Hood, so you understood.

When he missed her birthday party and then didn't show up on her actual birthday, was when you went ballistic. You called him up and screamed your throat raw.

Judith never once complained. Well, at first, she gave out the occasional, "Where's daddy?" "Can we see daddy?" "I miss daddy." And you would have to try and explain as to why she couldn't see him. Even though you yourself didn't understand.

But she was usually quiet about it, never once questioning his actions. She loved her father, no matter if he didn't love her.

"Momma." Judith loudly whispered, trying to wake you up.

"Mmm, yes, sweetheart?" You groaned, furrowing your head into your pillow.

"Breakfast!" She excitedly asked of you, climbing up onto you.

"What d'you want?" You croaked, rubbing at your eyes.

"Pancake!"

"Alright.."

Judith let out a squeal as you picked her up and carried her into the kitchen, setting her down at the breakfast bar. You reached into your cabinets and pulled out the needed supplies, then grabbed for the pancake mix and began making the batter.

A knock on the door caused you to stop mixing. Both you and Judith sent a look over to where the front door was.

"Stay right there." You told her, walking over to the door and looking out of the peephole. Dick's face is what greeted you, his dark hair falling in his face, causing him to push it away.

"Dick?" You opened the door. The older man just gave you a big smile and a hug. "Hello, Y/N!"

"Hey..."

"Can I come in?"

"Of course, I'm making breakfast."

You moved to the side so that he could walk in. Immediately, he walked into your kitchen, sneaking up behind Judith and putting his hands over her eyes.

"Guess who.." He sang out.

"Uncle Dick!" She yelled.

"Good job, Judy Jayne!" He chuckled, leaning in and pressing a kiss to the back of her head. "What are we having?"

"Panc-"

"Pancakes!" Judith yelled, interrupting you. "Pink ones!"

"Since when did we choose pink?" You asked, going back to stirring the batter.

"They always have to be pink," Dick defended "and have glitter on them.

"Ohh, momma do we have glitter?" Judith asked.

"We should have some left over." You responded, talking about the edible glitter that she had on her birthday cake last year.

"Yay!" Dick and Judith smiled together.

"Will you be joining us Dick?" You asked, putting food dye in the batter.

Judith stared up at the man with a wide smile, begging him to say yes. He cast a sorry look down at her, "I can't, I've got to get to work."

"Aww." Judith pouted. The both of you knew that she would be over it in two seconds.

"So why stop by?" You questioned, setting down the raspberries that were in your hand and looking at Dick.

"Well...we need to talk."

Wordlessly, you walked back out of the kitchen, Dick following right behind you.

"Whats up?"

Dick sent you an anxious look before hesitantly speaking, "Um, Jason's back in Gotham..."

You stared up at him, eyes wide for a few seconds before your face returned to expressionless.

"Very well then." You spoke. "Who cares?"

~☆~

Taglist: @dakotali

I know a lot of people spell it "Mama," but I spell it "Momma," which is kind of weird cause nobody else I know does.

Updates will be slow.

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cowgurrrl · 2 months

Text

I Wish I Was

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: yay for creative energy coming back!!

Summary: Murphy’s Law dictates… [3.1k]

Warnings: art talk, discussions of a deceased parent, probably incorrect blueprint talk, a cliff hanger 😈

Temperatures rarely dip below the thirties in Central Texas. It's not impossible, as evidenced by the below-freezing temperatures ravaging much of the South in the final days before returning to school, but it's still rare. Nobody really knows what to do when there's the threat of the roads icing over, so they just decide to shut most things down, including your bar. You feigned disappointment when your manager called to tell you when, in reality, you were digging through your box of acrylic paints to find the one shade that's been calling your name. With the sudden free time, you get to work on your half-finished canvases and listen to the same record repeatedly in the hopes that your brain will zone out enough for you to make something good.

It could be The Mamas and The Papas record spinning or the dark blue winter light shining through your blinds, but you actually like the piece of art unfolding on your canvas. It's undeniably different, a little more vibrant and a little more abstract, but it feels good— sustainable, at the very least. You feel less self-conscious about them and even snap pictures to show them off to Andie. You've finished three other canvases and sent in images of them to a local art collective that takes gallery submissions twice a year, and they've moved you on to the next part of the acceptance process. It's not a definite yes, but it's not an immediate no. You haven't told Joel about the submission or anything, really. You've just holed yourself up in your apartment to paint and sporadically respond to his texts with lots of apologies typed with yellow or purple fingertips.

He knows you're not ignoring him, and you know he's a busy guy. He has better things to do than sit around and wait for you to text him back, but you feel bad about not being as present as you were before. "It's all part of the process, I promise," you said. "Then, when I get my own gallery, you can hear all about it while you fix up my classroom." He reminded you that "pride goeth before the fall" but didn't doubt or pressure you to break your flow. The only thing he consistently texts you about is making sure you're drinking water, stretching your wrists, and, at least, looking at a vegetable during your long sessions. Otherwise, he leaves you alone to work. Everyone else, including the stack of looming emails in your inbox, gets deliberately ignored so you can live in your bubble for just a little longer before school drags you back into session.

That's why you jumped and furrowed your eyebrows at your ringing phone when his contact photo appeared unexpectedly, breaking you out of your concentration. You wipe your hands on your old pair of too-big jeans (universally known as your work pants because they're covered in different colored hand prints) and swipe to answer him before the silly picture of him with one of your scarves on his head can go away. You hear him shuffling around when you put it on speaker and almost hang up, thinking it's a butt dial before you finally hear his voice.

"Hello?" He greets.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Did I leave my jacket there?" He asks. You let out a relieved sigh that it's nothing too dramatic, but the lingering panic his phone call caused sits in the back of your head as you glance down at said jacket. You adjust the palette in your hand, suddenly hyper-aware of the wet paint and thanking whatever God is out there for not getting any on his clothes. You can't imagine things would go over well with the guys if he suddenly showed up to job sites with pink paint on the sleeve of his jacket.

"No..." you say, extending the vowel, and he chuckles.

"Do me a favor. See if there's a ring of keys in the front pocket?" He says. You gently put the palette on your coffee table and wipe your hands again to ensure there's no wet paint on them before digging into both front pockets and feeling the keys in his left pocket. You pull them out and find the set of keys with a baseball keychain and a keychain with a picture of him and the girls on it.

"I've got 'em," you say. "The Astros? Really?"

"D'you mind bringin' 'em to the office? I forgot I needed 'em." He ignores your jab, and you look down at your outfit. Clad in your work pants, a sports bra, Joel's Carhartt jacket, and your unwashed hair in a clip, you are not prepared to leave the house today, let alone go see Joel.

"Um..."

"Somethin' wrong?" He asks, and you wince. What are you gonna say? Sorry, I know you have to do your job and all, but I look and feel like shit, so I can't bring your keys to you? He's already seen you in disarray from the school day, but that was a cuter, more socially acceptable version of disarray. This version gives credence to the messy, mentally ill artist stereotype Freud introduced however many years ago.

"No, nothing's wrong. I just..." you sigh and rub your face. "I wasn't expecting to see you today. I kinda look crazy."

"That's it?" He asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "Baby, I don't care how you look. You could show up in a potato sack, and I wouldn't care."

"Well, lucky for you, I don't own a potato sack, but I'm pretty sure that would look better than this."

"If it makes you feel better, the office is empty."

"Then, why are you in? It's fucking freezing."

"I needed to make sure the pipes didn't freeze over, and I left some blueprints here," he says. "I can grab 'em from you and just come back to the office."

"No, I don't want you driving more than you have to," you say, already stretching out your stiff legs. Your knees creak in protest, and fatigue seeps into your bones. God, how long have you been sitting here? "Just don't say I didn't warn you."

"I think it'll take a lot more than some messy clothes to scare me off, darlin'," he says, and you roll your eyes at his charm. With a quick goodbye, you throw on a clean enough sweater and leggings. You debate running a brush through your hair before remembering what he said about the empty office and decide you don't have the energy. If he really doesn't care what you look like, then you're not going to stress about it.

You're a little worried about driving in the weather, even you aren't immune to Southern weather panic, but the roadways are mostly clear, and things aren't expected to get really bad until later on. Still, you drive slowly and white-knuckle the wheel against strong, frigid winds. By the time you get to Joel's office, the sky is more grey than blue, and radio announcers warn you that there might be flurries within the next forty-eight hours. You doubt they'll stick to the ground and amount to nothing more than some black ice, inconveniencing everyone in the state, but still. You leave the relative warmth of your car and walk as fast as you can into the building, clutching Joel's jacket close to your body and sending a wave of his smell over you.

The office itself is small, with a couple of desks here and there, mostly for meeting with clients and explaining building plans. A coffee pot and water cooler sit in the corner next to the receptionist's desk, which is currently empty. It's eerily quiet in the space except for the sound of the heat rumbling somewhere in the walls, and you almost wonder if Joel left without telling you when you hear grumbling and the tell-tale sound of his boots against the tile. He doesn't notice you at first. Instead, he scowls at a paper like it owes him money and mutters under his breath. Whatever is annoying him is wiped away the second he sees you there.

"Hey, baby," he lights up as he walks over to you and kisses you, abandoning the paper on one of the desks so he can hold you close. He tastes like coffee and the beeswax chapstick Ellie got him for Christmas. You didn't realize how much you missed him until now, and you smile against his lips. "You got my keys?" He asks as he turns to walk into his office, grabbing your hand and bringing you with him. He lets go of you to close the door behind him, and you dig the keys out of your pocket and toss them at him. He catches them in mid-air easily and walks over to the filing cabinet.

"You intentionally leave your keys with me, or is this just a happy accident?" You ask, and he smirks.

"Maybe I just wanted to see you again."

"Sneaky," you say as you walk around his space while he searches for the correct blueprint.

It's a relatively normal office with eggshell walls and bad fluorescent lighting, but once you step behind his desk, you get a good idea of the man who works here. His desk is old and made of some type of wood he probably knows more about than you do. It's filled with little knick-knacks and things that get him through the day: family pictures, a painted gecko from Terlingua, stress balls, and a desk calendar with his all-caps handwriting. There are even some drawings done by Ellie pinned on the corkboard behind his chair, her skill visibly improving as she gets older.

One particular picture on his desk catches your eye. It's older than the rest, and it takes you a minute to recognize Joel's eyes in the greying man. Joel, Tommy, and their dad smile at the camera with identical grins. Tommy can't be older than ten while Joel towers over them both, his broad shoulders taking up lots of space. You pick it up to look at it closer and Joel doesn't stop you. Instead, he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"'S this your dad?" you ask, and he nods. "You guys look a lot alike."

"You think?" He asks like he doesn't see it, and you look at him. You take a second or two to let your eyes trace his features and compare them to his dad's before nodding.

"Yeah. Same eyes," you say as you look back down. "And smile." He hums happily at that. Joel's face hasn't changed much now that he's a grown man. If anything, he looks more like his dad, with the grey at the temples and the beard framing his face. You see bits of their father in Tommy, too, but you assume he probably looks more like their mother. "How old were you in this?"

"Mm, fifteen? Maybe sixteen." Right before his dad died, you think. You wonder if he's thinking the same thing or reliving the day over again. Before the clutches of grief can sink you both, you smile to yourself and hold the picture a little closer.

"I would've been obsessed with you if we'd gone to high school together."

"Really?" He asks incredulously, and you giggle at the thought.

"Oh, for sure. Look at you!" You point to his little broody half-smile as if it's evidence. "Those eyes, that hair, the attitude. I mean, c'mon, Joel!" He laughs at your praise and takes the photo out of your hands.

"Alright, alright, that's enough objectification for teenage Joel."

"I'm not objectifying you! I'm just stating the obvious."

"Mhm," he hums, and you laugh. You continue walking around and looking at his things as he frowns at the blueprint he trekked through the cold to get. "Shit." He mumbles, reaches for a pencil, and scribbles something on the plans.

"What's wrong?" You ask, perching yourself on the edge of his desk and leaning over to look at the intricate design. It looks like a big house with lots of elaborate details written on the margins. It's a big build. No wonder he needed to get this copy.

"This client decided they wanted a bigger kitchen, but I don't know how to do that without eatin' into another room and changin' the whole plan," he sighs. "We're supposed to be back on the site once this storm blows over, and I gotta have an idea of how we're gonna do this by then."

"Can't you just tell them no?" You ask, and he chuckles.

"Can’t you just tell your principal no?

"Point taken," you say. "What about pushing it into the backyard a little? Then you could use this area over here to make a sunroom or something," you suggest, gesturing to the weird leftover space that would make the house look wonky. His eyebrows knit together as he thinks.

"Then what should I do here?" He asks. Together, you go back and forth, discussing dimensions, perspectives, and measurements. You never realized how similar these designs are to art. They have to have more of a purpose and fit specific parameters, but other than that, they have the same idea: create something out of nothing. It's cool to see Joel in his own element, doing mental math and estimates that would take you ages to do and writing down his findings as you figure them out together. He's not just good at math, he's good at sketching the new designs.

Almost seamlessly, he flips through the floor plans and layouts, adding a window there or changing the flow of a room with a singular erasure. He adds the perfect depth to see the idea clearly without crowding the space and making it seem too busy, allowing the clients to picture their furniture in the home. When you bring up an idea, he's quick to rotate the plans upside down to imagine how it would look and if it would impact the building process, his brain running through every possible solution and flipping it without even thinking. Ellie does the same thing when she gets stuck on a drawing. You see where she gets her skill from, even if he'll never admit it.

For someone who has always struggled with math, you enjoy the balance between math, engineering, and art in the plans, but you like working with Joel the most. It's nice to feel like you're helping instead of distracting him. You're not sure how long you worked together, reconfiguring things this way and that, before you finally reached a viable solution, but you know that Joel has the biggest smile on his face when he looks away from the blueprints.

"You mighta missed a callin', my dear." He says, and you laugh, shaking your head.

"My college algebra professor might disagree, but I do think this is interesting."

"Well, if you ever want a job..." he trails off as he rolls the blueprints back up and secures it with a rubber band. You smirk and tug at his belt loops to bring him closer to where you're sitting on his desk.

"You just want me to get more tattoos." You accuse, and he chuckles as he tosses the prints somewhere behind you, his hands coming up to frame your face.

"I'm just sayin', Miller Contracting don't have a policy against it like the school district does."

"Mm, what about dating? That might get a little dicey."

"Is sleepin' with your boss better or worse than sleepin' with a student's parent?" He asks, and you laugh.

"They're probably in the same realm of bad."

"Then, we've got nothin' to lose." He says as he leans down to kiss you. You open your legs just enough for him to step in between your knees and get as close as he can. He's trimmed his beard since the last time you saw him, but the stubble still scratches deliciously against your skin, making you sigh. He breaks away enough to tip you back onto his desk, narrowly missing his clutter, and you giggle when he kisses your neck.

"How long have you been plannin' this one?" you ask, your years in Texas showing through in your breathless voice. He smiles as he meets your eyes.

"I dunno what you're talkin' bout."

"Oh, so getting me alone and on top of your desk was just a coincidence?"

"Happy accident." He muses, sliding his hands up your shirt as he gets lower and lower. Your hands play with his hair, occasionally tugging on the strands just to hear the sound he makes. You would've been happy to do that all day if your phone ringing through the suddenly too-warm air of his office didn't interrupt. Joel groans and drops his head to your sternum, his hands pausing their journey up your body as you wiggle your phone out of your back pocket. Your heart drops the second you recognize the phone number.

"Who is it?" Joel asks like he's reading your mind. You sit up slowly, and he takes his hands off you without malice or frustration. You're stuck staring at the number until it disappears off your screen and goes to voicemail.

"Um... someone from work. I should probably call them back." You say, unsure of yourself as the words fall from your mouth. Joel looks confused but doesn't push.

"Oh. Right, yeah. School starts back up on Monday, right?"

"Yeah, she probably just wants to talk about lesson plans or something," you say, standing from your spot on the desk. The air has changed between you, and suddenly, things feel clunky and awkward. This is the worst possible timing. "Can I call you later?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll walk you out." He says sheepishly. You don't say anything as he opens the doors for you and gives you a quick kiss and a reminder to text him when you get home. You just nod and immediately speed walk to your car even though you're not that cold. Joel watches you pull out from your parking spot and leave the strip mall, waving before you can turn out of sight.

You wait until you're five minutes down the road before you dial the number back as if Joel would be able to hear the crackly voice through your speaker if you were any closer. Your heart beats fast in your chest, and your palms are sweaty on the wheel as the phone rings. When the dial tone finally ends, and your call is answered, the anxiety is replaced with frustration.

"What’s up?" You ask through gritted teeth, and you hear her take a breath.

"We need to talk about Ellie’s dad."

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onsunnyside · 1 year

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yet another prompt from my bestie’s ask: drum roll please (pun intended)… here’s drummer!Rafe

The road to stardom is wild and loud, full of flashing lights and cheering crowds in a new city every night. It's also full of distractions that come in various shapes and colours, whether that be liquor bottles, a white powdery substance, or the endless line of groupies. Rafe and his band are no strangers to indulging in those distractions, the rugged and crazy lifestyle quickly became a part of their rockstar image.

You have a dream to make it big, and to see your name on the silver screen with the generation's greatest. Unfortunately, Hollywood was beyond tough on those who weren't already born within the golden gates. You're a lucky one, with all your hard work and sleepless nights, you go from waitressing and living in a trailer park in L.A. to living comfortably in your dream home with a resume that just keeps getting longer and longer.

You meet Rafe at a mutual friend's party. You've been close with one of his bandmates for a little while, and finally got the opportunity to meet the rest of them.

Your first impressions are awful, to say the least: you were excited to meet the drummer of the famed rock band and have been staring at him all night, working up the courage one smidge at a time. When he slips out the balcony doors, you take your chance.

Rafe's leaning over the railing, cigarette hanging from between his fingers as he types on his phone. When you step beside him, he glances at you, blue eyes lazily dragging over your figure.

"I thought groupies weren't allowed in here."

You stand there dumbfounded, jaw on the floor as he blows the smoke.

"I'm not—"

He cuts you off with a heavy sigh, "don't tell me you're a friend of a friend, or a classmate from childhood, or someone's long-distance girlfriend. I've heard it all, trust me."

You cross your arms, heat filling your chest, "Do you talk to everyone like that?"

"Just those who deserve it." His voice is low, "Beat it, sweetheart. You don't want to get thrown out and risk ruining that pretty dress, now do you?"

You don't know what his problem was. For someone so loved and adored, he was a fucking asshole. You supposed that's the lovely work of PR teams, they can make even the cruellest monsters into angels. Hell, even your team worked tirelessly to maintain your image.

"You're still here? Don't you have a security guard to blow, or a tour bus to break into?" He asks condescendingly, hair falling over his forehead as he leans down, studying you with that stupid smirk. “Who are you fucking, huh? Is it one of the desperate socialites, or the wannabe models?”

His laugh breaks into a shout when your drink splashes on his face, the alcohol dripping down his chin to his chains and silk blue shirt, "what the fuck—"

You don't stay long enough to hear his curses and return to the penthouse, promising yourself to never speak to him again.

I'm sensing... hate fucking: his hand is over your mouth and you're pressed against the tiled wall, dress hiked up and legs around his waist. The party rages on inside the club, hopefully still lively enough that no one will notice your absence. Tonight was for you to celebrate your first big award win, you didn't know Rafe was coming with your mutual friend, and you'd die before admitting that you're glad he did.

You can't help your moans, his cock effortlessly hitting your sweet spot with every rock. He fills you so deeply, stretching your hole with his fat girth, and it pains you to know that he's ruined you for anyone else. You just know you'll be a limping mess.

"Shut up. God, you never fucking shut up." He grunts, his hand falling to your throat, "You wanna get caught? Want everyone to know you're fucking a... what is it you called me?"

He grinds into you and you gasp, gaze locked on his lips. He was a great kisser, the best you've ever had, but you'd never tell him that, just like how you refused to ask for another.

"A-An ungrateful prick."

His eyes gleamed dangerously, sweat brimming at his brow, "Yeah, that's it. I bet you're grateful I didn't leave when you told me to."

He keeps you pinned to the wall with his hips and his other hand slips where you meet. His skillful fingers toy with your needy bundle and your body convulses, your juices nearly dripping down his length.

"And you said I never shut up."

A harsh slap lands on your clit and your choked whimper turns into a loud whine when he repeats the action again, harder this time. The lewd sounds of your wetness bounce off the washroom walls. If you had any shame left, it was gone now, tucked in his pocket with your torn underwear.

"You'll be on your knees and thanking me by the end of the night. I can promise you that."

I can only imagine how nasty drummer!Rafe is 😮‍💨 the kinks, the spitting, the choking, the messy "let me fuck my cum back into you," the tasteful nude polaroids, and wiping your tears when you cum so hard you cry, "that's it. let it out, baby. such a good girl for daddy."

Can't forget about the disgusting lyrics he'd write about you (ofc there are sweet ones too but that's not until later), telling the whole world how much he loves the way you taste and feel, how you're his filthy little angel and that you bring him closer to heaven with your body.

Oh the sexting !! When he's on tour and you're working, it's hard to make time for each other. Sometimes he'll send you a picture of his hard bulge through his jeans with a cheeky "wish you were here." When you win another big award (and inevitably become a style icon overnight bc of your dress), he sends flowers, cute lil note, and ofc, a nut video with sound 😌 "the next time I see you, I'm fucking you in that dress."

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