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#his signature look :D
ansonmountdaily · 1 year
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Anson Mount's Captain Pike and Tawny Newsome's Ensign Mariner appear in Paramount+'s new commercial
For Paramount+'s Big Game commercial, Sylvester Stallone and his daughters Sophia, Scarlet and Sistine set up camp on Paramount Mountain, along with some other familiar faces (Dora The Explorer, Captain Pike, Ensign Mariner, Lieutenant Dangle, and Beavis and Butt-Head). Can Sly make it to the top of Sylvester Stallone Face? There's only one way to find out...
Stream Star Trek: Strange New Worlds, Star Trek: Lower Decks, Beavis and Butt-Head, RENO 911! and Dora the Explorer on Paramount+.
Source: Official clip
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flamestar126 · 7 months
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Game Night with Douglas
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What happens after Douglas leaves for a second
rambling about their outfit in tags
#a dnd continuation! more like an excuse to redesign their outfits and throw in douglas with them#if you compare the gameover/wendigo art and this one it looks like they grew up lol#for mandark i wanted to stick with his original design but combine his two iconic outfits into one with a fantasy vibe :D#his collar and pants is how i tried incorporating it and i honestly love his white collar but kinda sad i didn't know how to add his tie#a ruby gem gifted by dexter was placed instead#the last robe looked like a hoodie so i changed it to fit his cape from his og design to have more black on the outfit and point up collar#tried to add as much M's i could without looking tacky such as the gold one underneath the ruby which is also detachable#that allows him to take off the robe with ease#there's also a hidden gold m near his collar if you squint#mandark has M spilt on the back with golden lining and underneath everything is a long tight turtle neck#he wears a vest inspired by his leotard patterns which i love that it was caught and earrings with his signature M dangling from his glasse#lastly his staff which is inspired by his gun it's very multipurpose and his crystal ball can be removed and emit magic particles#mandark was supposed to have his elvish print on his clothing but i couldn't find a language alphabet for it#for dexter he's completely inspired by his fusionfall counterpart#his lab coat is lined with golden accents and wanted to add tech to his outfit so i add metal and circuit shoulders to honor his lab itself#the mirror of the shoulders is detachable and multi purposed such as a storage area and communication device similar to mandark's staff#i figured i'd keep the leather like previously for mobility and comfort compared to pure metal shoulders#he keeps a potion near his side for emergencies#then there's his necklace “MD” in dwarvish#i brought his wrench which wasn't considered much last time#dexter can press the button in the middle and quickly expand and vise versa for portability#quite honestly i gave douglas a basic outfit since i don't think he stands out in a fantasy world#his outfit is inspired by his originial clothes too mostly the colors#he does have a lil quirk of engraving D into things like puss in boots#sorry i made you basic human archer douglas LOL#im happy with it it literally took days researching and careful consideration of their designs haha#dexter's laboratory#dexter's lab#dexdark#flame draws
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albertbreasker · 1 year
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edited a screenshot of wolfwood from badlands rumble bc i was sick of it being INCORRECT
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pilotstreets · 1 year
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(imagine this is a poll)
which wax stamp should i (try) decorate the outside of my clancy notebook with
yellow sunflower
red flower (pretending its a rebel red carnation)
both
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genderqueer-karma · 1 year
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THE HANDWRITING POST !!! (please excuse my chicken scratch physics notes… the things we do to stay awake in class)
first, the signatures:
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(basically, i think he signs his name one of three ways: full name with the asymmetrical “m”, full surname with first initial, and initials only. legible, but slightly messy)
***
second: manuscript + cursive:
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(the manuscript/print was more for fun than anything, as i hc that he almost exclusively writes in barely legible cursive. i imagine he’s like me in the sense that he writes fast because he thinks so much, so everything looks all skewed.)
***
fun bonus: kanji! (not really hc anymore, i just wanted to try my hand at it. it’s so many strokes!! i can’t remember stroke order for the life of me…)
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fuzzydreamin · 1 year
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Deacons Glasses
Some of my personal thoughts about Deacon and his eyes and signature glasses. 
He never changes his eyes when he goes under the knife, this is for two reasons: 
1: His eyes were his departed spouses favourite feature about him and thus one of the only things he is still able to hold onto of them. 
2: If something goes wrong in the surgury he can easily live with having ugly and even painful scars, but if he loses his vision he won’t be able to perform his job as a Railroad agent. He can’t risk it. 
So he wears the glasses to help hide his eyes, since the colour could be easily remembered and used to pick him out. 
But also, Deacon is vision impared and the sunglasses are actually prescription. 
His vision isn't horribly bad -if he loses his glasses he can still see fairly well, but he definitely needs them to see clearly.
Dr Carrington is one of the few people who know about Deacons eyesight and helps him locate appropriate eyewear. 
Deacon keeps at least 3 pairs of glasses on his person at any time. 
His vision is mostly a genetic thing but he’s definitely been a bookworm thoughout his life (novels and pre-war mags, you name it, Deacon loves knowledge), and that probably hasn’t helped. 
Despite this he is still a very good shot as a sniper, he’s practiced to be sure he can stay hidden and at a distance during a fight. 
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emmetrain · 2 years
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October is almost upon us, do you have any costume ideas Emmet?
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"You want me to disclose my design before Halloween so others can steal it? Tch, you take me for a fool..."
"..."
"AND FOOL I AM. Ingo is not here at the moment, so I have literally no one to talk the ear off about my new idea!!"
"Behold, dear passenger. The initial sketches I made months ago--my Halloween Homework, HW Square."
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"Since we will still be working, I had to stay true to our uniforms. But!! Reflective, or even better, satin or silk--not the real deal since I could not afford it--. Black silk inside my coat, white in Ingo's. Our armbands will be black and white as well. Leather pants. Knee-high leather boots--which we will tone down with our white shirts!"
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"I cannot disclose the whole event I have planned, but we will be the guiding lights as usual for our passengers, so our main theme will be the north star, which our single coat stripe forms on the back of the coat!"
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"These were done in the middle of the battle while a young passenger could not decide on his last losing move, so they are verrrry sloppy."
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"We will have a whole event planned by your favorite conductor in white! Usually, Ingo would help as well, but--I am sure he will be home soon and we can do last-minute changes!"
"We will be distributing green, yellow, and red wristbands to our passengers when they enter the Gear Station-- those who would like to participate, those who only wish to watch from the sidelines, and passenger who wants to opt out fully."
"We just need our passenger's compliance--if they are wearing the green wristbands, of course. :)"
"...I hope Ingo will make it this time. .. I am sure he will."
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tonycries · 1 month
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Hope They Catch Us - G.S.
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Synopsis. When you’re on-screen, it’s always a rivalry to see who’s best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.
Pairing. Actor! Gojo Satoru x Co-Star! Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rivals-to-lovers, co-stars to lovers, unprotected, oral (fem receiving) slight exhíbitionism (stuff with cameras), marking, praise, Satoru is actually down BAD, cúmplay, tabloids, lowkey fluffy at the end, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.5k
A/N. YA GIRL IS BACKKKK ;D Also happy belated three months to this blog hehehe.
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Lights, Camera, Drama: Gojo Satoru and Leading Lady’s Off-Screen Feud to SINK Box Office Darling?
“They’ll Kill Each Other!” Insider Source Spills All on the Royal Rivalry Between Hollywood’s Hottest Bachelor and Bachelorette.
Enemies of The Century or Publicity Stunt? Recent Cast Outings Sets Fans Speculating!
---
You hated him. Oh, how you hated him. All because of a red-hot rivalry that had sparked ever since the two of you took the industry by storm. And everyone from Hollywood’s bigshots to your adoring fans knew that no matter where Gojo Satoru goes, you were sure to never be within a ten-mile radius. 
Well, usually. 
“I…shit- I’m in love with you.” 
Because avoiding Gojo like a plague really isn’t saying much when said plague was currently sitting right next to you. Eyes boring into yours, signature smirk plastered on his face while he rattles off a disgustingly sweet confession - all on the set of your latest movie. 
Somehow, in a cruel twist of fate, your co-star. 
And to add insult to injury, this wasn’t just any movie - it was only set to be the biggest romance film of the summer. So not only did you hate to tolerate Gojo, you had to pretend to be in love with him. 
Perfect. Great. Wonderful. If only the check wasn’t as tempting as it was, you think he would’ve successfully driven you to an aneurysm already. Especially considering that the scene tomorrow was-
“CUT!” 
That snaps you out of your little reverie, bringing you back to the still very ongoing film shooting. You risk a glance at the disgruntled director, cheeks aching from the sappy fake smile you had to hold for this scene.
“Something wrong?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. You knew exactly what was wrong. And one look at Gojo - dressed to the nines and huffing sulkily at being interrupted in the middle of his monologue - told you that he did as well.
“It just doesn’t feel real.” The director shuffles his script, voice dropping to a sigh at your confused gazes. “The spark, it doesn't feel real.”
“What?” you silently thank your years of acting for keeping your voice steady. You squirm in your seat the longer the silence stretches. This cozy little café they rented out too tight, Gojo’s fingers intertwined with yours too hot. Too soft. 
“C’mon. You are in the perfect romantic set-up.” the other man gestures wearily at the café, at the dim-lighting and the proximity of your seats. “So why do you two look like you want to just- strangle each other?”
“Ooo kinky~”
It’s the first time Gojo’s spoken up since the scene was ended early and honestly that was enough to have you fulfilling the director’s suspicions. 
“That.” you give him a pointed stare. “That is probably why.”
And that just draws out such an infuriatingly light chuckle from Gojo, as he sprawls all over his chair with the audacity of someone that owned this entire set. “Lighten up. You’ve told us, n’ in the next take I’ll fix it. Easy peasy.”
If only it was that “easy peasy”. The director was anything but satisfied, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “It’s not just me, even the public is worried whether your ‘feud’ will get in the way of such intimate scenes. You-” he jabs a finger your way. “-better pretend like you want to kiss him senseless and you-” whirling now to Gojo. “-better act like you’ve wanted nothing more for years- Not to mention tomorrow’s sex scene-”
Ah, right. The sex scene. 
How could you forget? It might not be a walk in the park to giggle and make heart-eyes at Gojo, but to actually pretend to have sex with him? All on camera? Curse whoever wrote this damn script. You could’ve almost laughed at the universe’s absolutely awful sense of humor if it hadn’t been for your paycheck - and the next words that tumble out of Gojo’s pretty mouth. 
“We’ll ace it, you just watch.” 
You hurriedly snap your eyes to meet Gojo’s, sending him a look that says “behave”, in a way that very much makes him not want to. Twinkling with such dangerous mischief that makes your stomach flip as he hums, “Or- I’ll ace it.”
God, was it a battle to remain professional. The only thing stopping you from snapping back being the way he squeezes your hand mockingly reassuringly - to which you send him a death grip back, of course. 
“Oh? Care to elaborate, Mr. Gojo?” the director asks, eyes flitting between the two of you. And you can’t even laugh at the rest of the staff for almost toppling out of their seats in an attempt to hear his answer - because you are, too. Mind whirling as you lean closer, wondering just what nonsense would come out of Gojo’s mouth. 
“Well, you could say…” he trails off suspensefully, like the smug bastard he is. Looking right in your eyes as he flashes an unfairly pretty smile your way. “I’m irresistible like that.”
Exactly the type of nonsense that would come out of Gojo Satoru, of course. And one glance at the director told you he was thinking the same thing. He was going to be the death of you. You can’t help but breathe out shrilly, “You fucking-”
“My apologies, director, but our leads have a scheduled interview soon. Rest assured, we will be early on set for filming tomorrow.”
You were definitely giving Nanami a raise after this. 
Because if looks could kill then Gojo would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on his grace already - and you let him know. A little over twenty times, actually, as the both of you are hastily escorted away from the set for an “emergency interview”. 
It was a flimsy excuse, you both knew, but Nanami hadn’t exactly felt like cleaning up a crime scene today. Instead, settling for a swift escape, the director calling out after you two to “Look like you’re gonna rip the clothes off each other tomorrow.”
Rip the clothes off each other, huh?
With the way things were going, you couldn’t be surprised if you ripped him a new-
“C’mon, sweetheart~” Gojo gets out through giggles, that familiar cackle echoing in the narrow hallway leading to your trailer. “Y’know I was just having a little fun with that ol’ man.”
He saunters unhurriedly behind your brisk pace, easily blocking the way you swing the door shut in his face. Letting it shut with such infuriatingly smooth nonchalance. 
“Fun?” you scoff, jabbing an accusing finger right in the middle of his sculpted chest.“Do you even realize the mess you could’ve made?”
“Easy there, m’not insured for these pecs just yet.” Gojo clasps your hands together. Some strange little part of your skin burning at the touch in- anger? Something else? But you don’t think too hard about it, because he’s plowing on, “Besides, a little teasing never hurt anyone.”
Such a shame he was so pretty with the stupidest mouth.
“A little teasing? You practically declared to everyone in that room that we’re gonna fuck this up.” you move to pull him down by the collar instead, clearly unimpressed.
But oh you shouldn’t have done that - because he’s so close now. Too close. Hot breath fanning your face, looking so smug as he murmurs unrepentantly, “Do you?” Chuckling lightly at your little head tilt, “Do you think we’ll fuck it up?”
You clench your jaw, trying to keep it all together. “...No.”
“Exactly. We’re good then.” he winks. 
“No. We’re not fucking ‘good’.” you grit out. Wondering exactly how difficult it might be to bother the director into completely recasting the male lead for the movie. Looking up at that million dollar smile and- yeah, it would be very difficult. “You’re so insufferable. I don’t know why they cast you.” 
“My good looks? My charisma? The way I’m the-” he trails off with a sigh at your glare. “Well, you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, sweetheart.”
“At least I can act and-.”
He whines dramatically, cutting off your rant. “Me too!” 
This conversation was so ridiculous - but, hey, the great Gojo Satoru always did bring out the worst parts of you. 
“Nuh uh.” 
“Yuh uh.” 
“Then why are you so stiff when acting like you’re in love with me?”
Somehow, that makes Gojo shut up. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water - gasping out a strangled little, “B-because- well-” And if you didn’t know any better you’d say that was a light blush dusting his ears.
Only for a split-second, though, because he’s grabbing you gently by your shoulders, more seriously than you’d ever seen him. “Fine. Listen, we both want the same thing right? To have pretend-sex and ace this film to win like five Oscars?”
And maybe at the heat of his newfound proximity, maybe at the way he was looking at you so goddamn intensely - you feel something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Swallowing thickly, you manage to get out, “I’ll be the one winning the Oscars...but yes.”
Gojo’s gaze roams all over you - from the quirk of your eyebrow to the dress hugging you so sinfully tight. “Then we’ll do it. Ace the scene.”
Traitorously, a shiver runs down your spine. And because the universe loves to play jokes on you, Gojo notices - of course, he does. Eyes lighting up with amusement and something you really didn’t want to decipher as you blink up questioningly, “How?”
“Method acting, silly.” he rolls his eyes, as if he wasn’t implying something that wasn’t seen in even the cheesiest of romcoms. “Think of it as running lines.”
If there was ever a moment where your life flashed behind your eyes then this just might be it. 
“You-” you gulp, so hot all over. “You better shut the fuck up and pray your face is insured because-”
At this, Gojo throws his head back and laughs - loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say about keeping his voice down so as not to let anyone outside hear, but shit you were mesmerized. Damn, a weird little part of you kind of understood why directors loved him onscreen. 
“Feisty,” he muses. “But how can I shut the fuck up when they’re second-guessing the two best actors in the game?” 
“The best? Me, maybe.” you lean in closer, mouth as bitchy as ever - even when you’re so obviously crumbling bit by bit under his gaze. And he knew that. “But not you.”
“Well, only way to find out is with tomorrow’s scene, right, sweetheart?” 
He drove you mad - everything from his heady cologne, to the way that overpriced button-up clung to him like second skin. But, don’t pull away - how could you? Not when he inches closer ever-so-slightly. Not when he lets those overpriced glasses slide down his nose, eyes locked so heavily on you.
Fighting to keep your words steady, “There’s nothing special about that scene, just fake moan in front of the camera, right? We don’t need any…‘method acting’.”
Gojo only raises a brow in amusement, lips curling into a grin that really makes you too aware of his little dimple by the corner. “Then why…” His eyes flicker down from his hands, searing on your shoulders, to yours - still grabbing his collar, just grazing the soft skin of his neck. Not pulling away. “...can’t you let go of me, sweetheart?”
And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you, you really don’t give a fuck. The only thing running through your mind being that shit this was Gojo bane-of-your-existence Satoru, and he tasted so…sweet. Like those cheap lollipops he often snuck on-set. Strawberry, you think.
But you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly he’s pulling away mere millimeters. Whispering hotly, absolutely dripping with something dangerous, “Sooo, is that a ‘yes’ to running lines?”
“Ugh, shut up.” your lips ghost his. “And just fucking kiss me.”
And, well, Gojo doesn’t have to be asked twice. Because it only takes a split second for his lips to find yours again. 
Yeah, definitely strawberry lollipops.
You hadn’t filmed any of the kissing scenes just yet, but damn you didn’t expect him to be so hot and messy - like he was drunk off of you. Licking at the seam of your candied lips, groaning softly like he wanted more more more-
“Sh-shit, Goj-” 
“Call me ‘Satoru’ when we’re fucking.” he cuts you off. “Or, my bad. When we’re ‘running lines’.” 
Shameless. Though, you guess you weren’t any better - not as you press yourself closer running your hands all over his sinfully thin shirt, feeling every bump and curve of his abs. “You talk too much, Toru.” you hiss, muffled against his lips. 
Oh that cute lil’ nickname had all the blood rushing to Satoru’s cock, you were so unfair. 
“You little minx.” Like a little punishment, he’s biting down on your bottom lip, tugging lightly at your surprised squeal. “You’re gonna regret that.”
“Hmm, I doubt it.”
And then your back is hitting the couch before you can react, bouncing lightly at the sheer force. And you’re so swept up in him - the way he hovers over you, arms looping around your waist, his knee wedging between your legs - that it almost hurts for you to pull away.
“Patience.” you huff out a laugh at Satoru’s disappointed whine, eyeing those pretty pink lips mere inches away from you. You just wanted them on yours. So badly. But no, there was something more important you had to do right now. “Jus’ thought we should record our little rehearsal, whaddaya think?”
“Record it?”
“Record it.”
“Record it, hmmm?” he’s whispering, more to himself than you. Fumbling with the zipper of your dress. “So you’re sayin’ we tape it, let the camera see how pretty you look all fallin’ apart f’me.” Kissing down your neck, letting the flimsy fabric fall down, “N’ then we improve for the pretend sex. Shut all those snobby directors up by giving them the best fucking sex scene they’ve ever seen.”
“Y-yes?” you mutter, as he starts tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra, clearly having way too much fun with this. “Unless-”
“Fine by me.”
The fabric hits the floor before you even realize what’s happening. Head spinning too much from the idea of being fucked on camera - by Satoru of all people, it takes you a second to realize that this bastard fucking ripped your dress off. 
“You probably broke-” 
“I’ll buy you a new one.” muffled, as he kisses down your navel, blindly fumbling with his phone. 
“It was expensive.”
With an impatient sigh, Satoru sets the camera up on the coffee table beside the couch. “Five new ones.” Angling it just right to perfectly capture you - in all your disheveled, horny glory, and Satoru, smugly seating himself between your thighs. 
“Ready?” he asks, finger hovering over that damn red button.
Well, it’s just for rehearsal, right? Right? 
“Do it.” you manage to get out, voice getting stuck in your throat at the faint ding! that rings throughout the heady room. “For my Oscars?”
“For my Oscars. N’the camera’s gonna know.”
And whatever retort on the tip of your tongue dies when he rocks his hip against yours, grinding his cock against your soaked panties. Rock-hard and so damp with precum already - so big that any and all rational thinking flies out the window.
Which is probably why you’re letting out such a pretty gasp, ‘S-Satoru, I want-“
“What?” And Satoru only flashes you a devilish grin, hands spreading your legs as far as they’d go on the couch. “This?”
He licks a long, long stripe up your inner thigh, all the way till he just meets the hem of your drenched panties. Teasing. So hot and depraved in the way he breathes in your scent. 
“Oh fuck, sweetheart.” Satoru grunts, looking down in awe at the damp fabric, so flimsy and see-through with your sweet juices. You slick beading through so sloppily, just a hint of the state you were in. “You don’t know how you drive me mad.”
Rip! 
He’s so fucking starved that he’s just tearing your poor panties clean off. Throwing them behind him to God-knows-where before spreading your swollen folds with his thumb, showing off just how wet you were for him. 
“You’re a tease.”
“And you’re fucking addictive. Look how fuckin’ wet you are. For who, huh?” he slurs, breath hot against your cunt. Circling your entrance just barely with his fingertip, teasing you like he was addicted to those frustrated moans coming out of your pretty lips. 
“S’for you-” you whine, “All for you, Satoru.”
“Exactly what I wanted to hear.”
And that’s all that needs to be said before he’s burying himself nose-deep. Drunk off your pussy as he licks long, languid movements. And it wasn’t enough - never might be, actually, because only one taste and Satoru was like a man possessed. 
Bullying his tongue between your folds, just dipping into your sloppy hole in a way that had your slick smearing all over his pretty face. Letting out such deep groans that had you clenching around his hot tongue. 
Shit, if you knew that this was the way to shut up the great Gojo Satoru then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. Because for one in his life, Satoru’s too entranced with something else to run his mouth, so fucking satisfied between your thighs. 
“Fuck- hah- think I like you better w-when hngh- you’re like this, Toru.” you purr, breath hitching as he bullies his tongue between your folds. 
Maybe you were an idiot - maybe you were a genius, because that only sets him off more. 
And suddenly Satoru’s pulling your body closer onto his hot mouth, like you were weighless. Pushing himself so impossibly closer while he makes out deeper with your wet cunt. 
“Ah! Hngh- Satoru-” you keen, tugging at his soft locks. As delirious as Satoru was pussydrunk. Drinking in all your cute lil’ whines of his name, angling your hips to lick all over like he couldn’t decide between fucking your sloppy hole or toying with your poor, ravaged clit. 
“Mhm?” he murmurs, the vibrations making you squeal.  Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “Ya like this?” Stretching you out on his tongue, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over- “Like when I tonguefuck your pretty pussy?”
“Ngh- love it- s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Satoru’s tongue. 
And oh Satoru thinks he wouldn’t mind being on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. “Tell the camera too, sweetheart. Practice how you’ll come around my tongue.”
Those words send a jolt up your spine - or maybe it was the way Satoru was sucking harshly on your clit. “F-fuck off.”
“Mhmmm, n’ this is why I’m the better actor..”
Ugh, this fucker. And with that you fight to turn your head - looking right in the camera. Feeling so fucking lewd as you let out such pornographic moans.
“Yeah- feel s’good.” you whimper, “Wanted this for so long, ever since I first saw- ngh- you-”
And shit were you so fucking evil - at least warn a guy! Because that has Satoru’s heart lurching, almost jumping up from between your legs before it hits him with a pang - ah, right, you were just quoting your character’s lines. Of course.
Well, two can play that game.
“Yeah?” he mutters into your folds. Two fingers plunging knuckle-deep in your pussy, massaging your plushy walls. Roaming around for that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so deliciously. “Can’t believe I waited s’fucking long. Y’know how hard it was to hold back? With you wearing all those slutty skirts f’me?”
Your body is jerking violently, both at his - practiced - words, and the way he was devouring you like you were his favorite meal. His favorite taste.
So eager and in-character with the way he was setting such a dizzying pace on your poor cunt. Slick trailing down from his fingers, all the way to his wrist. So sloppy and- Pressing down. Hard. “Found it.”
And you can only sit there and take it, such cute little whines of Satoru’s name leaving you as he leaves no mercy. Jaw grinding deeper and deeper, maddening. Aching as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over. And you were so-
“Close?” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Truthfully, he didn’t even have to ask - if the way you were trembling and squeezing so fucking tightly around him was anything to go by. “Go on darling. scream my name. Show off f’the camera like you do best.”
“Sh-shit. Toru- fuck yes-” you’ve got an iron-tight grip on his hair now, pulling and angling him as you pleased for more. Barely able to let out those strained lil’ moans, definitely not with the way he’s dragging your sloppy pussy all over his face. Fingers cramping up from how rough he was going - but still not stopping. 
“Go on. Cum f’me.”
And then you are. Letting out such a teary, strangled moan of Satoru’s name as you cum all over his face. 
And it’s not just for the camera either - because this orgasm is probably the best one you’ve had in a while. So hard that you don’t even realize you’re arching and rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Using him. 
And he doesn’t stop you. Why would he? You were so pretty falling apart all because of him. He wishes he could see this more often…
“S-Satoru.” you mewl, overstimulated. Jolting with each flick of his tongue, trying to close your legs but you can’t - he won’t let you. Greedily lapping up all your sweet juices, everything that you give him. 
“Nope.” he drawls, finally pulling away, delicate strings of your slick snapping as he does. Looking so fucking drunk off of you that it makes your cunt quiver exhaustedly. “C’mon now, sweetheart, you were s’pposed to say my character’s name. S’how the scene goes.”
Oh. Shit, you got too caught up. But one look at Satoru - eyes half-lidded, hair disheveled, your juices glistening all over the bottom half of his face so prettily - tells you he was much the same. 
“Well…” you huff, voice shot. “According to the script you were supposed to stuff that-” pointedly eyeing the achingly hard cock straining his pants, “-in my mouth first before eating me out. So here we are.”
With a chuckle, he rises slowly. “Touché.” Looking you straight in the eyes - and probably into your very soul - as he pops his fingers into his mouth. One by one. Groaning at the taste of your sweet sweet juices while he sucks them clean. “But I don’t think I’d last one second with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”
And it almost makes you want to tease him for it - one of Hollywood’s biggest It Boys but you can’t handle a lil’ blowjob? But all of that gets stuck in your throat as Satoru starts peeling off his shirt ever-so-slowly. 
Shit, you think. All mouthwatering curves and dips, all the way from his toned, milky shoulders down, down, down to those neat tufts of white peeking out from the hem of his underwear. Sculpted like he was handcrafted so meticulously - a fucking masterpiece, you had to admit. 
One that made you wish you took a longer look at all those shirtless magazine covers instead of throwing them out. One that had your thighs squeezing in such anticipation.
And Satoru seemed to be admiring you just the same, eyes locked on your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing - so ready for him. Distinctly aware of how pathetically needy you were being in front of the blinking camera, you crane your head to glance at it. Was it really capturing-
“Now now, first rule is to never look at the camera during this scene.” Only for Satoru to squish your cheeks together, forcing you into an embarrassing little pout as he turns you back to face him. “Look at me.”
And oh you can’t not look at him. 
Especially when he tugs his pants down, just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, so fucking long and pretty. Smearing glossy precum all over his abs, flushed your favorite shade of pink, rock-hard and so so angry. Shit, he was so hard it looked like it hurt. 
“Satoru…” you breathe, legs wrapping around his slutty waist to pull him closer. Only needier despite that little nagging voice wondering how the fuck you’d take his sheer size.
“Sweetheart?”
“I remember he didn’t do a lot of waiting in the script.”
And God were you right - but Satoru doesn’t think he could’ve kept this act of restraint up any longer even if you weren’t. Too impatient, too starved, his sanity dancing away from him with each second his fat cock wasn’t stuffed inside your pretty cunt. 
“Mhm.” he purrs, one hand reaching down to drag his fat head up and down your slit. Heavy balls squeezing painfully at the way your lip wobbles in frustration. Up and down up and up and- “You’re right.”
And then it’s like something snaps.
Because it only takes a split-second for Satoru to start splitting you apart on his massive cock. Big fat tears pricking at your eyes at the feeling that he was pushing all the way into your lungs. 
“Sh-shit, s’fuckin’ tight-” he lets out a low grunt at the slight resistance, taking everything in him to not just fuck into your snug pussy and use you like his little plaything. “You gotta hah- relax, pretty girl.”
You needed to relax more - to breathe maybe, just something. You weren’t even in the right state to wonder whether that little nickname was in the script - and God was Satoru thankful for that. Because all you can think of is how you never imagined what the bane of your existence would look with his cock stuffed in your dripping cunt - but now that you’ve seen it, you think you’ll imagine it for many lonely nights to come. 
“Hey, now. Don’t get camera-shy just yet.” Satoru gives your ass a playful smack. “After all, this is only the best- part-”
Each word is punctuated with shallow, mindless little thrust to fit himself inside your dripping pussy. Such cute lil’ whines leaving your swollen lips that he really can’t help but tease you a bit. Leering down at your fucked-out face with a smirk, “Or- my bad. Forgot such a scene would be hard for a rookie.”
Oh, did he know how to press your buttons just right. 
Because immediately, you’re blinking away the delirious haze in your eyes, voice so adorably shaky - but determined - as you grit out, “Bring it on, you B-list wonder.”
That’s all that has to be said before he’s finally bottoming out inside you, mercilessly. Inch by fucking inch. You gasp as his twitching balls smack your ass so lewdly, feeling his veins beat in such a slutty lil’ thump! thump! thump! against your heavenly walls. 
“T-Toru- big- ngh- too fuckin’ big. M’gonna break mpf-” his lips claim yours. Partially because it’s been way too long since he’s kissed your pretty lips, and partially because Satoru might just cum right then and there if he let you run your mouth. 
So he lets his hips do the talking instead. 
Cooing into your mouth at each little ah! ah! ah! every time he stuffed you full of his dick, quick, experimental thrusts to try and find that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so prettily.
“Sounds so beautiful, sweetheart.” rocking his hips faster into yours. So hard you were sure he’d leave marks. “No camera in the world can pick up how fuckin’ perfect ya are. Can’t ngh- pick up those cockdrunk lil’ heart eyes.” Angling your chin just so that your sinful expression is caught on camera, “Shit do ya even know you’re doing those? Might just make me lose it for real tomorrow. Might just make me sneak you off to the dressing rooms n’-” Manicured fingers digging into your hips while he fucks you in jagged, purposeful strokes. Hitting that one spot. Hard. “Fuck you all over again.”
You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he smugly hits that magical spot over and over- 
And it was so sloppy - so filthy with the way Satoru still had remnants of your slick all over his lips, matching the way you were soaking his cock. Fingers moving down to draw erratic little patterns on your clit, making it even messier. 
Close - too close. 
So, so desperate and debauched.
“C’mon. Show the camera. Tell the camera how much you love it.” 
“Ngh- f-fuck you.”
“Oh? Who’s fucking who now?” he’s laughing at your absolutely wrecked state. You can feel Satoru twitch inside you as you mumble out such delirious little praises to the camera - were they coherent sentences? You’ll never know, because the next words that fall from his lips have your mind reeling. 
“God, m’addicted to you, my girl.”
“That’s not- ah- in the script, Toru.” you hiss. Close. 
“I know. And neither is that.” he leaves such uncharacteristically gentle kisses down your neck. Miles away from the relentless place on your poor, abused pussy, fucking you deeper and rougher every time despite already bottoming out. “Does it have to be?”
“Th-that doesn’t ngh- make sense.” you gasp into his open mouth. 
“Doesn’t have to.”
Maybe it’s the way Satoru’s panting those words against your lips. Or maybe it’s the way he’s looking right in your eyes while he says them - like it would kill him to pull away. Maybe even that fleeting little kiss he leaves against your lips. 
Because before you know it, you’re cumming and cumming so hard that you wonder whether you’d make it out alive. The only thing you can do is throw your head back and take it, thighs quivering, Satoru’s names spilling from your lips in such broken little whines while he thrusts so sloppy. Once. Twice. 
“Ah- this is gonna have me fallin’, huh?” And then he’s letting out such a low, muffled moan of your name, filling you up with rope after rope of his cum. 
What? 
It’s so messy - his cum overfilling your poor pussy, spilling out and coating his twitching balls. Shit, you can’t even worry about whether it would stain that overpriced couch below you. Not when Satoru’s whispering out sweet- lines from the script?
“Fuckin’ beautiful underneath me. Always was.” Hips still fucking into you - not even thinking at this point. “Always will be. Such a vision onscreen, sweetheart.” So thick and hot, and dribbling all the way down your legs with every movement.
And then Satoru’s lips are finding yours again, tasting so unfairly sweet while he drinks in all your cute breathless gasps. “Such a vision f’me.”
Those weren’t from the script either.
Something soft. Something scary. Something that has you looping your legs tighter around his waist, letting him collapse onto you. Pulling him closer, in fact, because now that you know the weight of his body on yours, it just felt so right.
It takes a moment of silence for you two to catch your breaths, the still rolling camera being the last thing on your minds. Neither willing to speak first, because shit Satoru might’ve gone to countless red carpets and film sets but this - you are what strips him away from all the glamor and fame. Until he was just, well, embarrassingly Satoru.
The Satoru that was now shifting shyly in your arms, trying to get up. “Uh- Hell of a way to run lines, huh? Better check the camera n’ see where to impro-”
He might be one of the biggest actors in modern Hollywood, but Satoru didn’t fool you - not one bit. So without a word, you’re tugging him back to rest against you. Heart lurching just a little bit as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Like a little hideaway - from the camera, from the world, hell, maybe even from you.
“Y’know,” he flinches ever-so-slightly at your teasing tone, giving you a playful bite. “I have one area of suggestion and it might just be that you’re too good at ‘running lines’.”
“...Good enough to win those five Oscars?”
“No.”
“Then guess I better prove it to ya, huh? Is the camera still on, sweetheart?”
Just then, some weird little part of you thinks that, hell, maybe you don’t hate Gojo Satoru after all.
Not anymore, at least. 
---
The Enemies-To-Lovers Trope of The Century?! Hollywood’s Biggest Rivals Sport Matching Hickeys (And Smiles) On-Set of Upcoming Film.
Oops! Gojo Satoru's Phone Wallpaper Accidentally Exposed: Surprise, Surprise It’s His Leading Lady! More on Page 6.
“No Comment. Though, I Have Moved Trailers. Twice.” Anonymous Manager Speaks on Latest Movie Rumors.
Director Is All Smiles As He Raves About Upcoming Romance Movie. “Hell, If I Didn’t Know Any Better I’d Say They Were Really-”
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A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
8K notes · View notes
buckyalpine · 8 months
Text
CEO Bucky takes his anger out on his secretary (ft smut)
Imagine CEO!Bucky accidently taking his anger out on his already stressed out secretary. He gets mean and you will deal with it because I wanted this angst turned smut to go from chest itching to stomach fluttering. 
-
Your stomach twisted in knots looking at the pile of papers you had stacked on your desk, the phone still ringing while new messages popped up in your email inbox every 5 minutes. The files had to be organized by the next meeting and the number on the phone display was one you couldn’t ignore. The back to back messages were from various investors, each person insisting they were a priority over the others. You kept the receiver between your ear and shoulder, your hands flying around your desk madly between papers and tapping your keyboard. 
You quickly added a few more meetings to the calendar before hurrying to your bosses office to remind him of one he had later that afternoon. You hesitated before knocking at the door, the closed doors indicating he was busy, but you knew he’d want a heads up about the meeting. 
“Mr. Barnes, you have a meeting with Stark Enterprises at 3:30-
“Didn’t I tell you to move this meeting to next week?” Bucky snapped, blue eyes glaring at you while you blinked in confusion. “Well?” 
“N-no” You shook your head, you’d never missed an email before and you’d always been on top of scheduling changes on time. Bucky mumbled something under his breath before waving you off, the shrill sound of his phone going off. 
“Barnes” Bucky grunted, answering the phone without looking back at you, leaving to you scramble away and figure out if you could rearrange the date with Tony Stark. 
Which was a mess in itself. 
You had to argue back and forth, pleading to no end for a different day with Starks assistant only reluctantly agreeing after nearly half an hour. 
“You really should be more responsible, can’t believe Barnes has the likes of you working under him” the woman on the phone clicked her tongue before slamming down the receiver, cutting the call. You sighed, taking in a deep breath to calm the tightness you felt in your throat, you didn’t have time to break down now. 
You printed the up coming contracts for Bucky to sign, organizing them by name and highlighting the places he had to sign so he didn’t have to bother finding the space for signatures. You scurried back into his office, dreading the tense click of his jaw, your nerves increasing even more. 
“Sir, these are your papers-” You stumbled over the corner of the rug, scattering the papers onto the floor, your heart hammering out of your chest when you saw Bucky irritatedly run his fingers through his hair. 
“For fucks sake, y/n, I’m already stressed, don’t screw more shit up!” He growled, eyes hardening at the sight of the papers strewn across the floor of his office while you stayed frozen on the spot. Your eyes glossed over, quickly scrambling to the floor to grab the documents, mumbling apologies over and over again, hoping none of your tears stained the paper. The sight of tears streaking down your face broke Bucky out of his frustrated state, instantly regretting the tone he’d used with you. 
“Fuck” Bucky cursed under his breath, getting out of his chair to help you but you’d already managed to pick everything up, immediately trying to scramble away.
“Y/n” 
You didn’t stop, unable to take more of Bucky’s wrath, continuing to hurry towards the door, desperately trying to hold down your sniffles and aggressively wiping your cheeks. 
“Y/n” 
Bucky sighed, gently reaching out to grab your arm and pulling you to face him, his feeling even worse when you kept your eyes trained on the floor, your arms wrapped around yourself. 
“I’m sorry, p-please d-on’t yell” You choked out, still trying to hold your composure together, fighting the way your body wanted to break down into sobs 
“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m sorry” his heart broke seeing the tears collecting in your lash line, his thumb swiping away the ones that spilled out. “M’sorry baby” he wasn’t sure where the pet name came from but he couldn’t help it, letting it naturally roll off his tongue. You were still rigid, refusing to look at him, nearly flinching when he pulled you closer, tilting your chin up to meet his steel blues. 
“Look at me” He spoke softly now, as if he were trying to coax a small animal out of hiding, his touch gentle, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”
“It’s okay” you shrugged, slipping out of his hold, quickly wiping your face and going back to work as if nothing had happened. Even though he’d apologized, his words rang through your mind for the rest of the day. 
In fact, they stuck with you through the entire week. 
Bucky hated the way you didn’t even look at him anymore. He missed your soft good mornings and shy smile whenever he walked into his office. Now all you did was keep your head down, freezing in fear as soon as you heard his footsteps. And it was all his fault. 
He despised that he made you feel scared of him, his own anger being the cause of upsetting you when you had been nothing but sweet from the day he’d met you. You were also the best he’d ever had; no one else had ever come close to how brilliantly you worked; you never missed anything. He nearly spat out the coffee that was placed on his table, missing the perfect cup you made for him every morning. 
You only spoke 1-2 words, retreating from his office as soon as you got what you needed, your eyes always trained on the floor, looking away from him. He couldn’t take it anymore, feeling more guilty each day; he couldn’t go on any longer without your sweetness. 
You blinked at the baby pink roses that sat in a basket on your desk along with a little bear placed on top, a small hand made I’m Sorry heart sitting in its furry hands, clearly in Bucky’s handwriting. You traced over the soft teddy holding it in your hands before going to his office. Before you could say anything, Bucky was up and out of his seat, desperately hoping you’d hear him out. 
“M’sorry y/n” His soft eyes were filled with sadness and regret as he reached out to hold your hands in his, not wanting you to run off again, “I’m so sorry angel, there’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have yelled at you” 
“It’s fine” You whispered, still avoiding his gaze. 
“Hey, it’s not fine” Bucky shook his head, cupping your face to make you look at him, “It’s not baby, I shouldn’t have ever treated you that way. You do everything for me, I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you” 
“I shouldn’t have messed u-
“Don’t, absolutely not. You never do sweets, it was me who messed up. Never you. Will you forgive me, doll?” Bucky nervously bit his lip while you gave him a small nod, that adorable shy smile he loved so much making its way to your lips. 
“God, I missed this” He whispered, his thumb tracing over your lips, chuckling at the tiny confused pout you gave him after.
“What did you miss” 
“This little smile you always have whenever you’re around me” Bucky smirked at the way you grew more bashful, doe eyes darting about, “Do you have any idea how much I love when you look at me like that?” 
“Mr-Mr. Barnes” Your breath hitched in your throat as his hands slowly moved to hold your waist, pulling you closer. Your hands made their way to his chest to ground yourself, forgetting how to breathe as he pressed his lips against yours. It started off soft and slow; his sweet tongue turning sinful as he walked over to his chair, pulling you to straddle him without breaking apart once. You let out a needy whimper feeling him harden under you though Bucky was still focused on kissing your soft skin, his lips fluttering across every inch. 
You’d never been this close to Bucky before, the intoxicating scent of his cologne making your heart race, his calloused large hands roaming your body. You hadn’t even realized you were grinding down on his thick bulge until he let out a groan, stilling your hips. 
“Keep that up bunny and you’ll make me cum in my pants like a little boy” Bucky let out a strained chuckle, using every bit of his self restraint not to tear your clothes off. 
“Please?” You wiggled against him again, needing to be closer, Bucky’s resolve slowly crumbling. How could he hold back when you were practically humping your soaked needy cunt right on his erection. 
“Please what, sweets” 
“Need you Sir” your voice had melted in a whine and that was all it took. The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor caused more arousal to dampen your panties, nearly drooling at the sight of his cock as he pulled it out. 
“Are-are you sure?” He checked with you once more, not wasting a second ripping your blouse off as soon as you nodded. He threw your bra off next before lifting your skirt up and pulling your panties to the, rubbing his fingers through your folds. 
“Sir, pleasee” 
“I got you, I got you baby. Wanted to make love for our first time angel, give you a bed with rose petals n’ champagne over ice” He whispered, recounting every fantasy he’d thought of from the day he’d met you, “Wanted to make you feel good baby, throw your legs over my shoulders and nurse off this little clit”
He rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves, continuing. 
“N’ then you’d be my sweet pillow princess. I’d let you lie down all night while I fuck your soul angel. I’d give you my cum all night, pump you full of my cream” 
“Need you now” You whimpered, clutching onto the lapels of his blazer, not that you didn’t want everything he was telling you but you couldn't wait. 
“Alright baby, c’mere” He pulled you closer, your bare chest pressed against his as he rubbed his swollen cockhead to gather your slick before breeching your tight hole, his hips gently pushing up till he was buried to the hilt, “That’s it, shhh take all of me” 
Bucky gave you a second to adjust to his size, his wide hands splayed across your body to hold you in place as he began to thrust up. You gasped in pleasure, your voice melting into a moan as he picked you up and placed you on his desk, pushing your thighs to hit your chest, hitting an even deeper angel. 
“OH GOD-MR-BARNES” You wailed as he fucked you harder, his heard thrown back, tie loosened, tightening the grip he had on your legs, keeping you spread out wide open. He groaned at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you while you moaned and sobbed on his desk, taking everything he gave you. 
“That’s right baby, say my name, let everyone know who makes you feel this good” He grunted through gritted teeth, holding off his orgasm while bringing his thumb to rub your clit again. 
“I-I’m gonna-OH-GOD-PLEASEE
“Fuck you sound perfect” Bucky moaned feeling you choke his length, fluttering and pulling him deeper as your orgasm washed over you, his own release dangerously close. “God you feel so fuckin’ good when you cum baby. One more angel, just one more” Bucky practically pleaded with you, speeding up his fingers till he saw your eyes roll back, silent screams leaving your mouth as your juices soaked his balls. 
“Fuck m’cumming so hard for you baby” He groaned, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts before stilling and spilling ropes of cum into you. He kept his cock inside while bending down to pick you up and sit back in his chair again. He sat with you for a while, petting your hair and kissing you, whispering sweet nothings. 
“Ready to go?” He whispered, looking down to see if you’d fallen asleep while you snuggled into him with your eyes closed. 
“Too tired sir” You pouted, nuzzling into his chest, refusing to move, your body too fucked out to even stand. 
“I got you baby” Bucky smiled, shrugging off his blazer and wrapping you up before carrying you away in his arms, ready to take you home, right where you belonged “Gonna make love to my pretty girl” 
10K notes · View notes
ohproserpine · 4 months
Text
iv. dolly
see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, jealousy, possessiveness, alastor does not know how to interpret love, or maybe he does, in his own twisted way, roadkill used as a symbolism, gorey descriptions of love, murder the song she sings is 'roxie' from chicago
˚୨୧₊♱
"Hey!" Charlie's voice rang out as she spotted Mimzy making her way towards the hotel entrance. The blonde froze, casting a nervous glance behind her to see the demon princess rapidly approaching with a worried look that she mistook for anger.
With practiced ease, the blonde put on a fake frown, pressing her hand over her chest. "Oh, Charlie! I'm so sorry for the trouble last night, sugar! I'll pay—"
"No, no! I'm not here for that," Charlie waved her hands with a smile, seemingly oblivious to the slump of relief on Mimzy's shoulders. "Are you leaving so soon? The hotel wouldn't mind taking you in!"
Caught off guard by Charlie's unexpected offer, Mimzy grimaced. She hesitated, opening her mouth before shutting it as she struggled to find the right words. "Oh! Well…you see…"
A laughing track, sounding like it was filtered through a radio, echoed through the air, and Mimzy turned to the source to find Alastor towering over her with his signature grin.
"I don't think redemption is quite her style," Alastor's chipper voice rang out. His clawed hand reached for Mimzy’s hair, plucking a feather from her headpiece. In his hands, the pink ornament erupted into flames. "Frankly, I have my doubts she could even be redeemed at all!"
Horrified, Mimzy watched as her feather fell to the floor in ashes, her hand instinctively reaching for the charred remnants.
"Alastor," Charlie glared at him before turning her attention back to Mimzy. "We believe in redemption for everyone. It's not about what you were; it's about what you choose to be now. We'll be here to support you every step of the way."
"Thanks, sugar," Mimzy forced a smile, waving her hand around daintily. She glanced at the entrance with a subtle wish for escape, playing up the nice act while Alastor continued to watch the scene unfold with a cryptic smile. "But radio here is right. I don't really think it's my style. Different strokes for different folks. Plus, I've got a business to run!"
Alastor hummed, twirling his microphone cane around in his hand. The crimson glow of his eyes narrowed at her as he chuckled. "You couldn't possibly mean that wooden box of debauchery you call a club, right?"
"My 'wooden box of debauchery' has more character than any joint in that city," Mimzy grit her teeth together in a smile, barely concealing her frustration.
As another argument began to form, a throat clearing interrupted the flow, capturing Mimzy's attention. A pink glove slowly rose from the couch and Angel Dust pushed himself off the furniture, sitting up with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"If I may~" Angel Dust chimed in. "You saying you, ah, got a bar? I'm always up for checking out new places. Mind if I swing by sometime, tits?"
Mimzy beamed and sent Alastor a smug look, making her way toward Angel Dust. She reached into her chest, pulling out a card with a flourish. "Of course, kitten! Here's all our information. You'll find us in the Vee district. Feel free to swing by anytime. And don't forget to bring a friend!"
Angel Dust took the offered card, a grin forming on his face. "Bring a friend, huh? You got it, toots."
˚୨୧₊♱
The Vee district, designated as the entertainment hub of Pride, was dazzled with bright neon lights and tall towering buildings adorned with blazing billboards. The streets pulsed with life, where every ten steps brought you face-to-face with street performers desperately vying for attention, hoping to catch the eyes of industry scouts. The message was clear – fame was the ticket to success. Performers were everywhere, found in rundown bars, neon nightclubs, and costly theaters catering to the insatiable appetites of the elite.
Mimzy's Lounge, nestled down east on one of the city's worse-off streets was no fancy stage. The building, weathered and worn, seemed to barely hold itself together. The exterior bore the scars of years gone by, with cracked windows, peeling paint, and near-rotting wooden walls. While it may not have been on the standards of the elite, to the poor and downtrodden, it was the best piece of entertainment they could afford.
Inside, the dim lighting of the bar did little to conceal the stains and cracks that adorned the floor and ceiling. Tables and chairs, mismatched, were arranged haphazardly. The air hung heavy with the smell of cheap perfume, wrapping around the audience—a motley crew of lost souls. On the stage, a couple of scantily clad showgirls were performing a dance routine, or at least their movements vaguely resembled one. The quality of the performance didn't seem to matter to the audience, who, hungry for any form of entertainment, welcomed the spectacle with open arms.
Seated discreetly in the back booths, Angel and Cherri had drawn their curtains tight, creating a cocoon of privacy amid the bustling buzz and thumping music in the club.
"…And check this out – Alastor is hitched," Angel Dust spat out the last word as if it were poison. His face caught the warm, bright lights spilling into their booth, slipping through the small gap in the middle of the curtains. He sipped from his drink, a glint in his eyes. "And the owner here's got some serious dirt on his missus or somethin' like that."
"That why you dragged me to this hellhole? Knew it," Cherri snorted, taking a sip of her cocktail, the sweet and tangy flavors doing little to mask the less-than-pleasant ambiance. "Couldn't believe you'd even want to step into a place like this."
"You know I can't resist a bit of gossip, and where else can you find more gossip than in a joint run by a gal who's got the goods on Alastor himself?" Angel grinned, his golden tooth flashing as he reclined in his torn red chair. "Hell. I bet anyone else would do what I'm doin'. I mean, who wouldn't be tearin' these walls down just to catch a glimpse of the Radio Demon's wife?"
Cherri Bomb let out a throaty chuckle. "Well, you're bloody right there."
A sudden blast of music echoed through the air, prompting Angel Dust to scramble out of his seat and poke his head out from behind the curtain. The previous performers stepped off the stage, making way for the upcoming act. He caught sight of a familiar pudgy figure sauntering onto the stage and hastily turned his head back to the booth, meeting Cherri's amused face. "It's startin'!"
“Welcome, all you devils and darlings, to the Dollhouse Lounge!” Mimzy's voice boomed, and the lights gracefully dimmed to focus on her. The hum of conversation dwindled, the audience's attention now on the stage. “It's the moment you've all been waiting for! The last act of the night… Dolly, the living doll!"
With Mimzy's spirited introduction, the claps and cheers crackled in the air. In an instant, the lights plunged into darkness, leaving Angel to flit his gaze across the smoke-hazed stage, hungry for a glimpse of what was to come. Suddenly, a surge of stage lights sliced through the lingering smoke, akin to a celestial burst, revealing your silhouette with a large signage that spelled out your name in bold, red letters.
Wearing a lovely smile, you spread your arms wide, catching everyone's attention as you sang the first note, voice sultry and dripping sweet like honey. "The name on everybody's lips is gonna be Dolly."
"That's his wife?" Cherri gawked behind Angel, her jaw dropping in disbelief. "Are you sure we got the right girl?"
"Hell, I'm just as surprised as you are," Angel shot back, an equally dumfounded look on his face.
"The lady raking in the chips Is gonna be Dolly," your voice echoed, the melody carrying through the lounge as you strolled towards the stage's platform. The rhythmic beat of the music vibrated against the soles of your heels while the spotlight dutifully trailed after you, its gentle glow caressing the curves of your glittery dress, casting glimmers of silver and gold that danced across the dimly lit bar.
"I'm gonna be a celebrity. That means somebody everyone knows," you continued, sauntering around the stage. As you swirled and twirled, your silhouette became a blur of sequins and shimmer. The spotlight then intensified its focus on you, highlighting the glint in your eyes. "They're gonna recognize my eyes. My hair, my teeth, my boobs, my nose."
"Fuck," Angel muttered under his breath. As you moved closer to the end of the platform, he could finally get a good look at you.
Shimmery blue eyeshadow graced your lids, while a dark blush adorned the apples of your cheeks, complementing the red lipstick you had on. Your dress, a dazzling ensemble of sequins, was not only radiant but also provocatively low-cut, teasingly revealing a glimpse of your chest before gracefully dropping to your knees. Dark silk stockings, sensually tracing the contours of your legs, were held by garters. At your feet, bedazzled red Mary Janes sparkled like jewels, catching the light with every step you took.
As Angel thought back to his conversation with Mimzy, he found himself agreeing with her earlier comments. You really were a living, breathing doll.
"From just some dumb canni-bal’s wife. I'm gonna be Dolly," you continued, seamlessly weaving your magic, each lyric a spell that bound the audience. "Who says that murder's not an art?"
With a spin, you twirled around the stage, a ditzy grin on your face, the sequins on your gown catching the light like stars. "And who, in case she doesn't hang, can say she started with a bang! Dolly Heart!"
As the final notes of the song echoed through the venue, the room erupted in applause and cheers. But, the curtain wasn't falling yet. Standing backstage, Mimzy let the moment linger, reveling in the prolonged applause. After all, happy customers always tipped generously.
On cue, bills and coins descended like a storm, hitting the floor with a crisp sound that mixed beautifully with the cheers of the delighted audience. There was so much that the shower of currency formed a makeshift carpet beneath your feet.
Angel Dust, still peeking from behind the curtain, wore a smirk of approval. "Not bad, not bad at all," he whispered to Cherri, who nodded in agreement.
Standing on the stage, bathed in the lingering glow of the spotlight, you held your pose, chest heaving up and down. A demure smile graced your lips as soft, appreciative nods and fluttering eyelashes accompanied each gaze you cast toward the audience. Tonight's turnout was impressive, though not unexpected given your agreement to perform one of your most famous songs after a prolonged hiatus.
"Dolly" was a beloved crowd-pleaser and the one song you hated with a passion.
The spotlight continued to shine relentlessly in your eyes, causing a painful burn in your irises. The deafening applause felt like a relentless assault on your senses as each clap echoed loudly in your ears. From the speakers, the music blasted in waves, the volume rattling your bones. Showbusiness, a constant companion in both your living and afterlife, had become an achingly familiar yet tormenting cycle.
In the corner of your eye, you saw Mimzy step up onto the stage to address the crowd. "Thank you, my lovely devils and darlings! Wasn't Dolly simply darling tonight?" she squealed through the mic.
The crowd erupted in cheers and applause once more, the energy in the room reaching a fever pitch. Mimzy basked in the adoration, her grin widening as she soaked in the success and the money. Oh, the money.
"I know you loved that!" she laughed. She leaned into the microphone, her voice turning into a whisper "Of course, you all do. I wrote it."
"Now, let's give our star her rest. Dolly, my dear, take a bow!" Mimzy's voice rang out, signaling the end of the performance. Relieved, you bowed before making your way towards the curtains as the heavy fabrics began to descend. After blowing a few more kisses to the audience, you slipped backstage, letting the smile fade from your face. As you vanished from view behind the curtain, Angel caught the look on your face.
It was a look he knew all too well.
"She looks perfectly happy without him," Cherri remarked with a casual shrug. "I mean, look at 'er. She's the star of the show. You think she left on purpose?"
Angel furrowed his brows, deep in thought. It didn't make no sense to him.
Why would you willingly perform under Mimzy's control when Alastor, with his power, could easily get you out of here? Contract or no contract, that radio freak could tear Mimzy apart like a hot knife through butter.
The spider's attention shifted towards the audience, and his gaze locked onto Mimzy, who was engrossed in conversation with some VIPs. The sight of her triggered a scowl to etch itself onto his features.
"I don't think so. There's more to it," Angel's eyes narrowed, the wheels in his head turning, "I've seen that look before."
"What look?" Cherri raised an eyebrow.
"That trapped look," Angel said, his gaze following Mimzy as she continued her animated conversation, oblivious to the scrutiny. "Before the curtains dropped, I saw it on her."
"Shit, Angie," Cherri's gaze followed Angel's, and she pursed her lips. "You think she's playing the part or really stuck?"
Angel Dust stood up straight, now opening the curtains wide as his eyes never left Mimzy. "I don't know, but I'm gonna find out."
Both of them took their time, patiently waiting until Mimzy stepped away. Once the blonde demon finally made her way backstage, they discreetly followed her lead, slipping behind the curtains with her.
The busy backstage corridor welcomed them with an assortment of items – costumes, props, and stage decor – scattered in chaotic disarray. Angel's eyes wandered around, and he spotted Mimzy in a far corner, sitting atop worn cardboard boxes. Nudging Cherri, he gestured for both of them to move closer.
"Hey~ How's it going, blondie?" Angel purred, leaning against a nearby prop, his tone dripping with a sickly sweet tone. Mimzy looked up, confused before she recognized him and flashed a wide grin.
"Hey, you! You're that spider fella from the hotel!" She tapped her chin in thought narrowing her eyes at him. "Uhm, Angle Dust was it?"
"It's Angel Dust," he corrected, a twitch of annoyance in his eye.
"Uh-hah, that's nice," Mimzy seemed unfazed, continuing to count her money, her legs swinging back and forth absentmindedly. "You like the show? Oh, who am I kidding, of course, you did!"
Angel Dust crossed his arms with a chuckle. "Yeah, about that. That girl, Dolly. She's quite a number, ain't she?"
"Oh, yeah. She's my little masterpiece," Mimzy smirked. "Met her before she had any of this."
"Let's cut the fuckin' crap," Cherri rolled her eyes, tired of dancing around the conversation. The cyclops leaned down to Mimzy's height, scowling into her face and driving her finger into the blonde's chest. "I'll say it straight. What's the deal with her? You got some strings attached?"
Mimzy paused and glanced up at Cherri with an arched eyebrow before turning to Angel and laughing tensely. "Your friend here sure is forward, Ankle! Oh, sweethearts, Dolly's here because she wants to be."
Angel Dust shot Cherri a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. "Yeah?"
"The girl signed a contract willingly," Mimzy explained with a casual shrug. "She gets what she wants, and I get what I want. It's a fair exchange."
Angel's eyes narrowed, his skepticism evident. "Contract? What's in it for her, then? Why willingly perform in this dump when she could easily be the star anywhere else?"
The blonde sent Angel a glare for his dig at her lounge but still answered him. "Dolly owes me something. A little debt she's paying off with her charming performances. A contract might sound sinister, but it's just showbusiness, furs." Mimzy leaned back, folding her arms, her expression daring the two of them challenge her further.
"Bull. She sold you her soul to dance and sing?" Cherri scoffed, taking the challenge.
"No, no, there was no soul exchange involved," Mimzy rolled her eyes. "Just a contract. But still binding, magical, and all of that stuff."
"Now, can you two get out of my hair?" Mimzy huffed, shooing them away with a dismissive wave. "I've got a lot of things to run here!" She returned to counting her money, clearly eager to be rid of the unwanted attention.
"Let's go, Cherri," Angel said with a look of defeat, pushing himself off the prop he had been leaning on.
Once the two of them finally stepped out of the establishment, the spider groaned to himself, now finding himself with more questions than answers.
˚୨୧₊♱
You strolled behind the weighty curtains, the backstage area buzzing with the rush of staff, the shouts of managers, and the lingering presence of performers idly awaiting their cues. Navigating through the organized chaos, you directed your steps towards your private dressing room—a sanctuary away from the glaring spotlight.
You threw the door open, entering quickly and slamming it shut behind you, the sudden silence a stark contrast to the clamor and racket outside. Flicking a light switch, the dim glow of a single, flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling revealed the room's worn-out glamour. A vanity cluttered with makeup, costumes haphazardly thrown on a worn-out sofa, and a cracked mirror that had seen better days—all were familiar sights.
"I would kill for a glass of whiskey," you murmured to yourself, the weariness of the performance settling in. Rolling your head and groaning as you heard a satisfying crack, you added, "or maybe a whole bottle of it."
Kicking off your heels, you let the cool floor cradle your skin, leaving the discarded shoes in a dusty corner to rest. Seated at the vanity, the chaotic world beyond the backstage curtains ceased to exist. The gentle glow of the vanity lights exposed the weariness in your eyes as you wiped away your mascara and dusted off the remnants of glitter from your skin. While removing your earrings, the shimmer of your wedding ring caught your eye.
A frown tugged at your lips, the subtle ache of longing surfacing.
You missed your husband.
With a sigh, you continued removing your earrings before tossing them onto your vanity. Seeking to ease the edge, you reached for a whiskey bottle on a nearby dresser, grabbing a glass and pouring yourself a drink. The golden liquid glimmered in the subdued light as you took a sip, the warmth of the alcohol coursing through you.
"C̵h̶e̸r̷?̷"̸
A static rumble of a radio, like thunder, jolted you mid-drink, causing the liquid to catch in your throat. Coughing and sputtering for a while, you scrambled to collect yourself before turning behind you. Your gaze landed on the desk table where your radio sat. The crackling static continued, accompanied by a familiar voice and distorted sounds.
Alastor.
Grabbing a cloth to wipe yourself, you rushed to the desk and grabbed the old radio in your hands. The radio was a faded, worn red with yellowed dials, and its antennas were visibly broken, held up together with scraps of tape. Your contract with Mimzy did not allow you to meet with Alastor or his shadows for as long as you were under her, but that didn't mean you couldn't communicate with Alastor in other ways.
With trembling hands, you carefully adjusted the dials, aligning them to the familiar frequency that bridged the gap between you two. Your heart thrummed in your chest, head almost dizzy from anticipation. The distorted voices began to clear, and Alastor's distinctive voice cut through the static, a lifeline in the abyss.
"Cher, my dear, are you there?" Back in his room at the hotel, Alastor spoke through his mic, awaiting your response. He was sitting by the large windows, bathed in the dim glow of the Ring of Pride's lights. The hues painted a lovely ambiance against his skin, highlighting the contours of his sharp features as he reclined against a plush couch.
Heavy silence lingered for a while as you felt your throat closing up. Without realizing it, you began crying, your sobs echoing through Alastor's microphone.
"Yes, Al," you choked out between sobs, your hands gripping the surface of the radio tightly, nails scratching against the peeling paint. "I'm here. I missed you."
Alastor listened to your tearful voice through the crackling static, his shoulders tense as his claws clenched against his microphone handle. Your vulnerable confession hung heavily in the air, and he felt a storm stirring within him. Unsure of what to do with these emotions, he could only sit there and listen to you weep.
From the busiest street in Pentagram City to the darkest alleyways, Alastor's reputation as a bloodthirsty killer was infamous, and he reveled in it. The idea that an overlord like him could entertain genuine care for someone sounded preposterous. Throughout his human days and beyond, Alastor never felt such sentiments.
Decades ago, he only needed himself. However, ever since you entered his life, he became a man possessed.
The moment he first laid eyes on you, you were a vision of beauty with bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and he couldn't deny that he felt an inkling of fondness for you right from the start. But that was all it ever was—nothing more, nothing less.
Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he couldn't help but notice that the glow in your smile was brighter, lovelier. And despite his usual tendency to dismiss such details, Alastor couldn't look away. Not anymore.
You held him captive, like a deer frozen in the blinding glare of oncoming headlights. He was aware the collision was imminent, yet it still caught him off guard; A torrent of emotions crashing into him like a speeding truck, leaving him with twisted limbs and cracking bones, antlers torn from his head, fur matted and bloodied, with his heart exposed, beating vulnerably before you.
In the months that followed, Alastor remembered how foreign the feeling to him was. He didn't want to understand it, refused to, but each attempt to rip those festering emotions out of his chest only left him bleeding.
Looking back, Alastor finds himself incapable of fathoming how life was bearable before you entered it. The mere thought of returning to a time when you weren't present is something he refuses to entertain. The person he used to be, before he stepped into that speakeasy, now feels like a distant stranger, a mere shadow of the man he has become with you in his life.
The static in his thoughts subsided, in tandem with your crying and sobbing dying down. A prolonged pause lingered before Alastor interrupted the silence. "Cher, you know I'd bring you out of that wretched place if you just said the word."
A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you wiped away tears with your trembling fingers. "You tell me that every time we have these calls. Do you not get tired of it?"
"Never," Alastor hummed. The sound of your laughter, even tinged with bitterness, momentarily lifted the heavy burden that his heart carried. "The offer will always be up, darling!"
"You know I can't, Al. Me and her have history together," your voice paused, cracking with emotion. "And I still feel guilty."
Alastor sighed heavily, frustration dancing in his eyes. He always struggled to understand why you felt indebted to Mimzy, why guilt still clung to your decisions like a persistent shadow.
To him, Mimzy deserved the consequences. Despite his constant offers to free you from her grasp, you remained steadfast in your decision to complete your contract
"Very well, dear," Alastor's smooth voice crackled through the radio, weaving a comforting presence into the air as you moved back toward your vanity, taking a seat. "Now, enough of these melancholic talks. Tell me, how was the show tonight?"
"Mimzy had me perform 'Dolly' again," you remarked, a crooked smile playing on your lips. "She's well aware that I despise that song. I mean, really? Have you ever taken a look at the lyrics? It's a bit on the nose, don't you think?"
As your frustrations spilled out, Alastor stood from his seat, staff in hand. Placing it beside his closet, he attentively listened to your words, occasionally responding with chuckles and interjections. He slipped off his monocle, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and then his vest, revealing a well-tailored red undershirt that clung to his lean frame.
"I find the cannibal's wife line rather charming," Alastor smirked, and though he couldn't see it, you rolled your eyes in response.
"Of course you'd enjoy that part," you scoffed, mirroring Alastor's movements on the other side. Shedding the bedazzled dress, you opted for more comfortable attire, draping yourself in a robe.
"What's not to like? It shows the audience that you're my darling wife," Alastor quipped with a smug tone.
"Bushwa. They don't even know it's you. And I don't think anyone thinks highly of some poor fool shackled to a gaudy singer," you snorted. With the radio in tow, you began to pack your belongings into your purse.
"Don't be ridiculous," Alastor's laugh rumbled against the speakers. "My dear, being 'shackled' to you is the most delightful form of imprisonment."
"Such a sap," you scoffed, unable to suppress the smile that spread across your face. Shouldering your purse, you made your way towards the door, ready to leave. However, a sudden memory of a conversation with Mimzy surfaced.
"By the way, did you know Mimzy was planning to have me perform on some talk show?" you shared with Alastor while locking the door to your dressing room. A furrow appeared on your brow as the backstage lights played with shadows, casting a pensive expression on your face. "What was it again… Oh! Yes! Box-2-Nite."
A sudden screech from the radio erupted, its harsh sound reverberating in the hallway. Luckily, no one was around at this hour, and you cringed at the unexpected disturbance. Glaring at the box, you raised your brow. "You scared the living daylights outta me."
Alastor stayed silent for a while, claws digging into the cloth of his coat, ripping the fabric. With a snap of his head to the side, he dropped it to the floor and moved toward his staff, his shadows playing on the intricate patterns of the carpet beneath his feet.
"Do you perhaps mean… Vox-2-Nite?" His voice, usually smooth, carried an edge.
"Is that the name? I thought you hated telev—Oh. Ohhh..." As you ascended to the higher floors of the building, a realization swept over you.
Alastor's relationship with Vox was complicated. It didn't take a genius to see that. If the ceaseless back-and-forths on broadcasts, the turf wars that had casualties matching mass-extinction events, and the hushed gossip circulating among the other performers were anything to go by.
“Small world,” you chuckled, strolling down the hallway that led to the performers' rooms, the echo of your footsteps blending with the distant murmur of conversation. “I’m guessing I shouldn't take her up on the offer?”
"Absolutely not," Alastor practically snarled out, venom dripping from his tongue. The radio in your hand crackled and buffered, a faint golden glow emanating from the dials. "That pompous piece of shit television is nothing but a clout-chasing, mediocre host flitting between this fad and another on his little picture show podcasts."
“I know, love.” With a swift turn of a doorknob, you opened the door to your flat. "I wasn’t… planning… to…”
Your words trailed off, lingering in the air, as you entered the room. Your eyes widened in awe, captivated by the sight of a bouquet of white roses gracefully adorning your bed.
"Alastor," you spoke into the radio, your voice filled with genuine warmth. "Did you send me roses?"
Back in the hotel, Alastor, settled back into his plush couch. The fiery embers of his anger melting away like a fleeting shadow, replaced by the realization that you had discovered his gift.
A soft chuckle came from the radio, "Guilty as charged, cher. "
Your heart fluttered, and you sank onto the bed, dropping the radio on your mattress and taking the bouquet into your hands. The delicate petals felt soft against your fingers as you admired their beauty. White roses, unlike red ones, were so scarce it was difficult to get a hold of.
"Alastor, this is… wonderful," you spoke into the radio, smile so wide your cheeks almost hurt. "Why—How did you even—How did you even manage to find these?"
"Oh, I pulled a few strings," your husband grinned before chuckling, "and a few limbs too."
Your laughter intertwined with his and Alastor listened fondly, finding solace in the melody of your delight.
The day you inked that deal with Mimzy marked the onset of an agonizing pain he had never experienced before. The thought of leaving your sorrowful self under the wretched contract of that avaricious woman had incited a frenzied rage within him, leading to weeks of unbridled slaughters on the streets of hell.
The blood he spilled onto the sidewalks left a stain on the concrete that lasted months.
Fortunately for you and him, the ordeal was nearing its end. Just one more year remained until Alastor could finally reunite with you. After enduring decades of this agony, an additional year seemed like mercy.
"You like it, cher?" Alastor's voice dropped an octave lower, the satisfaction evident in his tone, pleased to bring happiness to your moment.
"Yes," you laugh, cradling the bouquet in your hands. "I like it very much."
˚୨୧₊♱
4K notes · View notes
nymphomatique · 9 months
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nerdy, loser miguel so pussy starved and hungry, eating you out with his whole soul, but you just keep degrading him, one hand yanking at his hair and shoving him back down every time he breaches for air and hissing at him because “come on, nerd, you’re the one that begged me for a taste. now do it right or get the fuck out.”
im so normal about this your au is feeding me 🫶🏻
totally not going insane over this ask btw ❤️
cw: munch!miguel makes his return, cunnilingus, fem orgasm, praise, hair pulling, nerd miguel EATS, slight d/s dynamics, one singular slap in the face (sorry)
i can’t like omg imagine his glasses on his head while he’s trying his best to please u :( but you’re his first so he doesn’t know what to do so he tries to lick like he’s seen in the porn videos (which he won’t admit) he watches.
and you’re sooo frustrated because what kind of man doesn’t know where the clit is?? even though miguel means while you won’t stand for it as long as he’s your property!
“been beggin’ to eat my pussy and you’re just waffling down there. pissing me off,” you huff. you grab his head by a handful of his hair and pull him to where his mouth is directly above your clit. “see that? can’t even call you four eyes with your glasses on your head n’all. make sure your mouth stays there. got it?” miguel nods feverishly and looks down expectantly. “you can start again.” you allow him and this time it feels different.
a good different.
you can’t help but you let out a gasp as the expanse of miguel’s tongue licks and sucks on your clit passionately. “f-fuck, you’re doing so good for your mistress right now. keep going.” you breath out, gripping his hair even tighter and pulling him into your sopping wetness.
“taste so good, mmhp,” he moans into you, his hands moving from their place under him to grip at the expanse of your thighs rather tightly. he licks up and down and even sticks his tongue into you, which makes you squeal and close your legs around his head. wordlessly he pushes them apart and pins them down, lifting your pelvis in the process, a small oh! leaving your mouth at his display of strength.
miguel looks at you with a dazed expression on his face before he goes back to licking into your cunt, his nose bumping into your clit as he explores you with his tongue. you can’t control your moans anymore, letting out babbles of “fuuuckkk right there, oh my god miguel- so fucking good for me,” amongst other praises.
“g-gonna come, slow down a bit,” you exhale weakly, feeling the pleasure begin to burn and overwhelm you. but he doesn’t stop, he keeps going as if he’s in a trance, your pulling and pushing at his hair leaving no impression on him.
“oh- oh my god i’m cumming!” you moan out, your whole lower body convulsing. miguel seems to have snapped out of whatever trace he was in and you meet his brown eyes that seem shy once again. his lips are covered in your cum, his cheeks flushed, his skin glowing with the slight sheen of sweat, his hair perfectly tousled thanks to you with his signature black frames sitting atop his head. he has the audacity to ask “d-did i do good?”
you smack him in his face for asking such a stupid fucking question.
you pretend you don’t see his boner after that.
can u tell i got carried away after the first two sentences cus LMAO
5K notes · View notes
wintrwinchestr · 1 month
Text
an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+
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summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.
warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)
word count: 4.3k
a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.
divider by @saradika
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“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?
Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.
“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.
The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.
When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.
As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.
Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.
“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.
When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.
Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.
He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.
“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.
“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”
Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.
And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.
“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.
He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.
“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.
“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on. 
He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”
“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”
He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.
You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”
He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression. 
“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”
The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.
“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.
Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand. 
“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.
“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it. 
“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”
You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.
“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.
Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”
You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state. 
“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”
He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”
You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.
There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.
“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.
He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.
“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap. 
“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows. 
You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you. 
“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.
With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.
Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.
“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lave your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”
It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.
A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”
You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.
“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”
He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.
You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.
“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.
“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.
“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”
You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches. 
“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.
“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”
“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”
“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against. 
You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.
“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.
With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”
You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can. 
Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.
“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.
So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain. 
“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.
“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.
“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”
You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.
“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”
“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…” 
Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.
So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is. 
Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.
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moonlightpetalz6 · 9 months
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I'll Make It Better
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Characters: Monkey D. Luffy, Roronoa Zoro, Vinsmoke Sanji 
Reader: fem reader 
Warning: harsh language, bruises, pet names, blood, suggestive nsfw (Zoro, Sanji)
Context: They spot a fresh bruise left on the reader and wish to kiss it all better~
Wc: 4,600
A/n: I would be so lucky! The number of random bruises I wake up with?! PLEASE KISS IT BETTER DADD- I’ll stop now hehe~
______________________________________________________________
LUFFY 
You sat on the thousand sunny humming to yourself as you carefully polished one of Sanji's cooking knives. You had been working on the Baratie with Sanji when the straw hat pirates had appeared. At first, you were scared, hiding behind any of your coworkers whenever the new busboy, Luffy, kept trying to speak to you. You knew he was a pirate as you watched him get in trouble for not paying for all the food he had eaten. Eventually, you came around to the rubber boy when you had been hiding from him in the kitchen, none of your coworkers currently available to be your human shield. Luffy was looking for you all around before spotting you trappin' you in the corner as he asked you to join his crew for the third time.
You recall Sanji yelling at him each time, stating that you weren't a fighter, just a waitress taking a few cooking lessons from everyone. However, Luffy never cared about that. "You make those yummy desserts, right?" He had asked you, a giant smile on his face, practically drooling over just the thought of your yummy sweets. You shyly nodded your head, still uncomfortable around the pirate. "Then join my crew! I want to keep eating your yummy sweets!" he laughed while placing a hand on your head, causing a tiny blush on your cheeks. Of course, you only agreed once you watched the straw hat defend the restaurant you grew to call home, making sure to give everyone proper goodbyes as you and Sanji set off on your new journey.
Smiling at the memory, you carefully place the newly polished kitchen knife with the others. “Y/n!!!!!!!” You heard the familiar voice of your captain shout, followed by arms wrapping around your shoulders. You smiled, a small blush on your cheeks as you felt his body press against your back. 'He's warm.' as the thought crossed your mind, you noticed Luffy leaning over you with a giant smile as his straw hat blocked some of the sun from your eyes. "Hi, Luffy." You giggled softly at your energetic captain, whose arms wrapped around you. "Y/n, I want something sweet!" He demanded, giving you his signature smile as he looked at you with bright eyes. You hum, turning your gaze away from him as you look up, trying to think of what you could make him. "Would you like something warm or cold? How sweet?" You started asking multiple questions about what kind of sweet he sought.
Luffy just watched you, not processing your words as he smiled lovingly whenever that childish light filled your eyes whenever you talked about desserts. It made him fall in love with you two years ago when you both went crazy over the desserts at a bakery you visited while Sanji shopped for ingredients. Luffy didn't say anything as he carefully went and held your chin between his thumb and index finger, causing you to freeze a slight blush on your cheeks. Luffy turned you to face him with a giant smile and laughed. "I want something sweet right now!" He declared before leaning in to kiss your lips. You squealed a small giggle muffled into the kiss as you happily accepted it.
Luffy hummed, satisfied with the kiss as his arms, still wrapped around your shoulders, gave a slight squeeze. You slightly flinched as you felt some pain in your right shoulder. Luffy instantly noticed the flinch and pulled away, his eyes examining you curiously, a slight pout on his cheeks. "What's wrong? Did I do something?" You internally cursed as you shook your head, not liking the sad puppy look your boyfriend/captain gave you. "N-no! It's not you!" you stammered quickly, sitting on your knees as you shook your hands in front of your face. "I-it was just my shoulder, is all…" You trailed off, not wanting to make eye contact with your boyfriend. "Your shoulder?" He questioned before carefully sliding the fabric of your shirt away from the area you had mentioned.
Luffy's eyes widened as he saw the freshly formed bruise covering your usually untouched skin. "WHAT HAPPENED?!?!" He cried, worried as he looked at your shoulder, unsure what to do as he knew you're not a fighter and your pain tolerance isn't the best. "I'll go get Chopper!" as he's getting up to find the doctor, you grab his wrist, stopping him as you laugh, a giant smile on your face. "Haha! Luffy, it's just a bruise! It will be gone within a few days!" Your boyfriend pouts his eyes, not leaving the tainted flesh on your shoulder. You just smiled carefully, placing your hand over it, your fingers barely touching the tender skin. "It must have happened earlier when I was helping Sanji carry some of the heavy bags. I ended up bumping into the doorframe." You admitted with a content nod.
Luffy just stared at your shoulder, not saying a word before he went and sat on his butt, legs spread open as he held his arms out towards you. You hum, looking at him curiously, before crawling to the spot between his legs. Luffy watches you sit comfortably between his legs before wrapping his arms around your waist. "How much does it hurt?" He asked, resting his chin on your head as he lifted a hand to poke at the bruise softly. You cringe a bit, causing Luffy to mumble an apology. "It just hurts a little, is all. Honestly, Luffy, I'm fine! It's not the first time I've had a-!!!" You stop speaking as a deep blush covers your cheeks, eyes comprehensive.
Luffy sat there, his lips carefully pressed against the bruise, his hand cupping your shoulder. "L-Luffy?!" You squeak, surprised at his sudden loving gesture. Luffy pulls away from the kiss and smiles at you, his arms pulling your waist closer to him as he lets out a loud laugh. "Shishishi! Your kisses are always sweet, so if I keep kissing the bruise, the sweetness will make it go away, right?!" He looked at you with joy-filled eyes and a slight blush. You looked at him in awe before a gentle smile graced your face as you lightly kissed his cheek.
"Mhm! I love you, Luffy!"
______
ZORO
You quietly tiptoed your way onto the thousand sunny. The crew had docked at a small island for a few weeks, and today, you had gone out drinking with Nami, the two of you wanting to party once again like you used to when you both joined the crew early on. "Do you think they're all asleep?" You whispered, glancing back at the navigator, who was also trying her best to be quiet. "For your sake, I hope so." She muttered, her head gesturing towards the hand covering your eye. You just scoffed, rolling the visible eye. "Let's just get to the infirmary." She nods as both of you sneak through the dark halls of the ship. "How are you feeling?" Nami asks as you both reach the door to Choppers' work area.
Relief washed over you when the lights turned on, and the room was empty. "Sit in the chair; I'll get the first aid kit." You do as Nami says, tossing your coat on the back of the chair before sitting with a loud sigh. "I didn't know how tired I was." You muttered, causing Nami to laugh as she walked to you, kit in hand. You watched her place it on the table, slowly taking what you needed out. "Well, I could be wrong, but I think a big part of that could be what happened there." She gestured to her left eye, a sly smile on her face. You hum, leaning back in the chair, hand still covering the irritated area. "Whatever, let's just get this over with." Before either of you could do anything else, the door opened, causing you to jump as you both turned to see who entered the room.
You felt your heart stop as the little color you had left in your face drained out. There in the doorway stood your highly protective boyfriend, Roronoa Zoro. You clenched your jaw and refused to move even slightly from your spot. Zoro looked at the two of you; his brow raised as he stopped messing with the bandage on his hand. "You two are back? What are you doing here?" he grumbled, assuming you would still be out enjoying your night. You cleared your throat, avoiding the swordsman, not wanting him to notice anything wrong. Nami just laughed as she stood before you, waving a hand.
"We just got tired! Y/n and I wanted to ensure we treated any cuts from our heels!" You commended Nami for how fast she made excuses in tense situations. Earlier that day, you and Zoro had gotten into a fight because he didn't want you only going out drinking with Nami, saying how it isn't like it used to be, and now that you were all famous pirates, danger lurked all around. Of course, you both ended up yelling at each other. One yelled how he needed to go with you both, while the other yelled how he was being overprotective. It ended with both of you storming away, not speaking for the rest of the day. 'Fuck, why him.' you thought while closing your eye; a headache started.
Zoro looked at you both, his eye narrowing in suspicion as he let out a small grunt before wrapping his wound in fresh bandages. "I see…" He mumbled, grabbing what he needed. You just sat staring at the wall, praying he would hurry up and leave. To your dismay, Zoro sat on the edge of the small bed across from you girls. He looked up at you, eye narrowed, a blank expression on his face. "Don't let me stop you then." Nami flinched, sweat trickling down her neck as she glanced back at you, unsure what to do. You bit your lip mentally, cursing your luck as your leg started shaking up and down. Zoro continued to wrap his hand, his gaze not falling from his nervous crewmates. You let out a deep sigh as you gave Nami a small smile. "It's fine. You get some rest, okay? It was a long night." You admitted while shooing her off with your free hand. Nami hesitated, looking back from you to Zoro, who waited patiently, arms resting on his knees.
"Okay…shout if you need anything. You get one free service from me as thanks for tonight." You scoffed, hitting her arm as she gave you one last smile before leaving the two of you alone. "What happened?" Wow, straight to the point, huh? You thought while sparing him a slight glance. "It was nothing." You mumbled, turning to him fully. "Are you done wrapping your wound now?" practically hinting that you want him to hurry up and leave. Zoro scoffed at your attitude as he stood up straight, brows furrowed. "It's like that, huh?" the two of you glared at one another, both too full of pride to back down. You didn't want to admit to him that, in a way, he was right about having to tag along earlier.
Zoro lets out a deep sigh as he stands up, heading towards the door. You feel your heartache as you open your mouth to call his name but stop yourself looking down at the ground. 'It's for the best. After all, it will only be another fight.' As the thought crosses your mind, you hear the door lock, causing your head to turn back. Zoro stands in front of the door, his face expressionless as his eyes lock with yours. "Zoro?" You question your boyfriend, trying to understand what he was planning. The swordsman said nothing as he slowly made his way over to your seated figure. You look away, feeling your nerves starting to get the better hand. Zoro quickly catches your chin lightly between his thumb and index finger. "Y/n…look at me, baby." Your heart dropped at his words as tears instantly filled your eyes. His voice was so gentle and filled with worry, a sound only you would ever hear from your usually uncaring boyfriend. You sighed as you removed your hand while slowly lifting your head to him.
Once your eyes met Zoro's, you instantly felt his grip on your chin tighten, his body going stiff as his eyes filled with rage. "Is it that bad?" you tried to ease the tension, quickly taking over the infirmary with a small laugh. Unfortunately, your boyfriend wasn't in a laughing mood. Oh no, Zoro was seething with rage as he stared down at your swollen and bruised eye. He noted where some dried blood stained the injury, indicating that you and Nami must have stopped the bleeding earlier after the incident. "You were bleeding." To his surprise, Zoro kept calm as he went and caressed that area of the wound, causing you to flinch, a hiss of pain leaving your lips.
"It wasn't that bad, honestly…it just covered one rag." One rag? One fucking rag of your blood?! Zoro looked up at the ceiling, his neck flexing from anger as he took a deep breath. "What happened?" He whispered, feeling his composure falter as he looked at the wound. "This jerk at the bar! He wasn't taking no for an answer and tried dragging Nami off! So, I kicked him in the knee, and…he didn't like it…" You trailed off, watching Zoro's expression go from calm to pure rage as he clenched his jaw teeth, looking like they would break. You quickly tug his wrist with a nervous smile as you try to laugh off the situation. "H-hey! If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy! This is nothing!"
Zoro grips both sides of your face, his eye boring into yours. "I'll kill him." He growled, the veins in his neck starting to pop out. You looked at your boyfriend briefly before tears began falling down your face. "Zoro! Zoro, it hurts!" Emotions finally took over as your sobs filled the room. Zoro's grip instantly loosened as he kissed all around your face, his lips hovering above your bruised eye. "Shhh. It's over now, baby. I'll kiss it all better." He mumbled while you whined slightly, signaling he could kiss the wound lightly. He chuckled as he sank to his knees to be at eye level with you. "Do you feel better?" He asked while wiping away your last few tears.
You nod, giving him a small smile. "I'm sorry, Zoro…you were right." he frowned at your words, his hands softly squeezing your thighs. "Shut up," he muttered while pressing his lips to yours. You jumped back slightly due to the shock of the sudden kiss. Zoro smirked while gently biting your bottom lip, earning a slight whine as you opened your mouth, allowing Zoro to slip his tongue in. He hums in approval while still massaging your thighs with his rough hands. After a moment, Zoro pulls away a tiny string of saliva hanging from his lips. He examines your face, seeing the deep blush on your cheeks, your lips wet from the kiss as you take a few tiny breaths.
He licked his lips as he cupped your cheek in his hand, gently caressing the area below your bruised eye with his thumb. "You're so beautiful." He whispered, admiring every part of you with his good eye. "Tch. Yeah right. In case you forgot, I have this hideous mark on my face." You gestured towards your eye with a frown on your face. Zoro hummed while dipping his face into the crook of your neck, his hands sliding up and down your thighs with occasional squeezes. "You're still beautiful…" Zoro trails off while leaving kisses up and down your neck until he finds that sweet spot, lightly biting down. "Z-zoro!" you yelp in surprise while trying to push him away. He doesn't budge as he starts to leave small hickeys and bite marks down your neck and across your collarbone. You let out a few soft moans while lightly ruffling his hair. "Zoro…" You whisper, earning a slight hum as he brings his face up to yours, giving a quick kiss as he squeezes your thighs, causing a familiar feeling between them.
"Sorry…if that bastard's mark makes you feel ugly, I wanted to leave my marks that you've said make you feel beautiful…" You blush at his words, feeling your chest flutter as he goes and leaves tender kisses all over your face again. "Do you want me to stop, baby? We can cuddle instead…" He whispered, resting his head against yours. You close your eye in thought as you process all of today's events and let out a small sigh. "As much as it pains me, I'll have to go for cuddles tonight." You sigh dramatically, earning a grunt from your lover, who rolls his eyes while standing up. "Dramatic woman." He joked as he went and started to mess with the items Nami had gotten out earlier for your eye. He kissed you before holding the things up towards your wound.
"Hold still for me Y/n baby."
________
SANJI 
"Do I have to?" You whine, sitting on your bed and watching Nami and Robin go through your swimsuits. Nami looked at you, rolling her eyes as she tossed another. "Oh, come on, Y/n! It's such a nice day out!" She yelled while Robin gave a small smile, holding a swimsuit up for you to judge. You looked at it momentarily before nodding your head in approval as she handed the fabric to you. "Fine! But only because Robin picked a cute one!" You scoffed, walking away from the two girls who high-fived each other. You quickly change into the swimsuit, taking a quick scan in the mirror before your eyes land on your thighs. You puff out your cheeks when you notice the bruises. 'Oh, come on! I keep waking up to these.' Your eye twitched in annoyance as you stormed out of the room to join the girls already in their swimsuits on deck.
You walk onto the deck, scanning the area before your eyes land on Nami and Robin, who send a wave your way. "Oh wow! You're wearing a swimsuit?!" You heard Usopp call in amazement, not used to seeing you in anything that shows too much skin. "Yep! So, soak it all in, boys~" You tease your crewmates, who just laugh at you. With one more scan, you nod your head, noticing that your boyfriend is nowhere to be seen. Otherwise, you would have a problem on your hands. You plop down next to the girls with a heavy sigh as you lean back, taking in the sun's rays. "Oh my, did something happen, Y/n?" Robin asked, noticing the minor bruises on your thighs. Nami hummed as she sipped her drink, eyes following Robin's gaze.
"Oh yeah! These appear sometimes!" You laugh, waving off their concern as you look back at the bruises. As you girls talk, Usopp walks into the kitchen to grab water due to the day's heat. Everything was nice and peaceful, the air filled with a nice calm-" SHE WHAT?!?!" A sudden voice boomed throughout the ship, causing everyone to jump. The three of you turn your heads as the door to the kitchen flies open with a loud bang. Before anyone could even blink, Sanji is in front of you on his knee; a hand extended out towards you as your boyfriend looks up at you with giant hearts for eyes, a cigarette hanging from his lips. "OH MY DARLING Y/N, WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE OUT?!?!" He cooed hearts surrounding him like no end.
You sat there staring at your romantic pervert of a boyfriend in awe before smiling, a laugh leaving your lips. "Sanji! Haha! You don't have to make it such a big deal!" You laughed, causing your boyfriend to gush as he did a small dance around you. "Y/n~ my darling~" He sang, going and wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind. You hummed, leaning back into your boyfriend's touch as the girls smiled, shaking their heads. "He hasn't looked at Y/n yet, has he?" Nami mumbled while Robin giggled, lifting her book over her mouth. Sanji hummed, having completely forgotten why he ran out in such a panic as he went and looked down at you.
You watched as Sanji's face went from pure bliss to shocked silly as his eyes fell onto your exposed cleavage. Sanji's eyes practically bulged out of his head as they darted around your form, taking in every piece of exposed skin you were showing. Sanji's smile widened as blood started gushing from his nose, causing everyone to sigh as Chopper panicked and quickly got to work. You just laughed, shaking your head while enjoying the sun.
After about half an hour, Sanji shot up from the deck, a white cloth stained red from his blood sticking out from his nose. The cook's head quickly darts around, trying to find your form. "She went to the kitchen to get a drink," Robin whispered, not taking her eyes off the book she was reading. Sanji jumped up with a smile on his face as he went and placed a kiss on Robin's hand. "Thank you, my dear Robin~" Sanji sang, running towards the kitchen. Before opening the door, Sanji took a second to compose himself, getting ready to see your form again in that sexy swimsuit. A tiny bit of blood trickled from his nose just at the thought. With a few slaps to the face, Sanji took a deep breath before pushing the door open.
"Oh good, you're awake!" You cheered, sitting on one of the tables with a cup of water in your hand. Sanji stood in the doorway, frozen stiff as he took in your appearance. You were just too sexy sitting in his kitchen in such revealing fabric. Sanji took a deep breath before heading towards you with a giant smile as he extended his arms for a hug. "Y/n, my love~" He sang before wrapping his arms around you, pulling your exposed flesh closer to his body. Once your body's connected, you can feel Sanji aggressively shiver as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "You look so gorgeous, cupcake~ absolutely stunning~" He purred, his hands trailing over your body.
You laugh, a slight blush on your cheeks as you place the cup of water behind you before playing with your boyfriend's hair. "Sanji~ do you like me better like this or in my usual clothes?" You teased, already knowing what his answer was going to be. "No matter what you wear, mon chéri, I will love you until my heart stops beating~" He purred, kissing your neck. You giggle, moving slightly to make yourself more comfortable. However, this allowed Sanji to glimpse at your thighs, noticing the bruised skin. The atmosphere in the room instantly became tense, causing you to look down at the cook in confusion. "Sanji?" You watched as his body twitched.
"Who did it?" You tilt your head in confusion, barely hearing what your boyfriend whispered, not moving his head from your neck. "Come again?" You questioned innocence laced throughout your words. Sanji looked at you, eyes filled with anger as he clenched his jaw. Then, you noticed his firm grip on the table you sat on, causing you to grow concerned. "Who hurt you? Who dares to taint your precious skin, mon amour? I won't let them live another day!" He growled, rage-filled-eyed, locking with your shocked and innocent ones. You just stared at him briefly before smiling, your laugh soon echoing off the kitchen walls, catching the man by surprise. "Haha! Oh my, you made me scared for a second!" Your comment makes Sanji flinch, as he never wants to scare his precious girl. "I'm sorry, mon amour…" he looked down, feeling guilty for frightening you. You watched him for a moment before your body suddenly jumped. Sanji had placed his hand on your thigh, gently caressing the bruises with his rough thumb. You blushed at his sudden action, watching as his eyes became serious, focusing on nothing but the discolored skin.
You felt your body relax as you carefully cupped Sanji's cheek, causing him to hum as he instantly leaned into your touch, closing his eyes as a small smile blessed his face. "I'm okay, Sanji. I wake up with bruises sometimes; it's no big deal! I promise no one hurt me~" You laughed, giving him that bright smile he loved more than anything. Your words take a second for him to process before a giant smile crosses his face, his eyes lighting up. "Oh, I see! That used to happen to me when I was a kid!" He cheered, his tone utterly different from the one he had just moments ago. You smile gently, kissing his cheek, causing him to blush as he looks at you shyly. "Not fair." You giggle at him while he caresses your thigh, causing a bit of heat to rise within your body.
"S-sanji…you don't have to keep caressing my thigh." You whispered, feeling embarrassed as you tried to move back from him. However, he suddenly pins you to the table, causing you to let out a small gasp as you stare up at him in awe. He looks down at your eyes filled with lust and love as he gives a sly smirk. "mon amour…earlier when I asked you about the bruises, I felt your body tense in fear but also…" Sanji trails off as he leans next to your ear, gently nibbling on the skin, causing you to flinch as a small whimper leaves your lips. Sanji's warm breath hits the tender flesh, causing your heart to go wild as his other hand goes and pulls your lower half closer to Sanji.
“Pleasure am I correct mon amour?” His words caused you to shiver as Sanji chuckled, taking the unlit cigarette from his lips and trucking it behind his ear. "Did I make you excited Y/n~? Did you like me getting mad?" He teased you while slowly sliding down to your lower half. You blush heavily while quickly trying to get up. "S-sanji! Not here!" You hissed, checking the door to ensure no one walked in on the inappropriate scene from the other side. Sanji hummed, amused with your sudden shyness as he went and bit the inner part of your thigh, causing you to jump once more, this time a small moan escaping your lips. "You said these bruises appear when you're sleeping, right?" He mumbled, placing light kisses up and down your thigh, his eyes watching your every expression.
Sanji loved teasing his girlfriend; your expressions were just too cute and sexy for him to ignore. "How about I make sure to inspect your body every morning for any bruises that suddenly appear?" He purred, going and leaving a hickey on your soft flesh before rising back up and pulling you closer to him, your crotches pressed against one another as he smiled, cupping your cheeks, a deep blush coating his cheeks. "Sanji…" You whispered his name so sweet it caused him to shiver as he went and placed his thumb in your mouth while caressing your chin.
"Mon amour…. can I cover those filthy marks with my own loving ones?" 
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A/n: AAAAAAAH I had fun making this one! I hope you all enjoy!
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sunkissedrafe · 3 months
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okay but imagine innocent!reader going to a party with rafe and his friends and getting a little over served!!!
˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖
standing around a makeshift fire pit the guys set up because your short little dress doesn’t help much in keeping you warm. rafe and the guys circle around it too nursing their beers and talking about a bunch of manly topics you have no interest in, until…
“what about truth or dare?” kelce asks and the group enthusiastically agrees. your ears perk up at the idea, and you look up at rafe with your glassy doe eyes jumping up and down a couple times. “can i play too, rafey? love truth or dare!!!” he gives you a kiss on the forehead and a little nod.
the game is going so good at first, except they start take advantage of you as you down more of your fruity drink:(((
“i dare you to try and touch your elbows together.” one of the guys slurs out, and of course you’re determined to do it. you furrow your brows as you struggle to touch the two together, squeezing your hardest as they all watch your tits nearly pop out of your dress.
at first rafe just watches with an amused grin. he knows he has a ten for a girlfriend and he isn’t naive to the fact that all of his friends would pounce on you given the chance. it doesn’t matter that they look because they know damn well they’ll never touch.
“dare you to touch your toes without bending your knees, i heard it’s like… impossible.” topper chimes in with a smirk. rafe shoots him a narrow eyed glance as you bend over. his jaw clenches when you stumble and end up with your back facing the group, pretty pink panties on display as you grunt and eventually reach your toes. “think i did it! did i??”
“yeah, yeah alright. okay. you did it baby.” rafe pulls you back up and wraps his arm around your waist after tugging the hem of your dress back below your ass. you giggle and take another sip of your drink, so proud of yourself for completing such an impossible task.
you were feeling so warm and bubbly you didn’t even think about the fact that none of the others had been doing any dares!!
“i d-dare you,” one of the more drunk guys stammers out and chuckles, stepping closer to you, “to.. to see if you can unbutton.. my pants with y-your teeth.” he and the rest of the guys erupt in a fit of commotion, but rafe isn’t so amused!
“the fuck is wrong with you?” he shoves the guy back roughly, his broad frame towering over him. “huh?”
“cmon rafe it- it wasn’t even like that bro!”
“it wasn’t?” rafe speaks lowly and slowly steps closer as his friend cowers down. you watch with wide eyes as rafe’s hand reaches behind his back and to the waistband of his jeans, his fingers gripping the shiny metal gun he keeps on him. “you do so much as look in her direction the rest of the night..” rafe lets out his signature psychotic chuckle and lets go of the gun, using the same hand to grip his friends collar and pull him so they’re nose to nose. “y’know.. that big fuckin’ forehead you got is damn near beggin’ me to use it for target practice.”
he shoves his friend to the ground and clears his throat, grabbing a new beer from the cooler and cracking the top. he takes a sip and pulls you back into his side, squeezing your hip reassuringly. you beam up at him and he gives you the softest smile you’ve ever seen.
he glances back around to his group, but all of them are silent. the only sound is the wood crackling in the rusty barrel in front of you. “anyone else wanna play?”
˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖
taglist: @stepbrorafe @bunnycvnts @hewwokitti3 @pinkribboncoco @rafesgiirl @beautifuldisaster88 @mousie101 @laniirackssss @ditzyzombiesblog
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reacting to their s/o being pregnant I Corazon, Doflamingo, Law, Smoker, Sabo, Ace, Kid
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Corazon, the gentle and caring soul he is, would notice subtle changes in your behavior and appearance before you even realized you're pregnant.
He'd probably start by making your favorite meal or fetching things you might need without even asking. Not because he knows exactly what's going on, but because his maternal instincts are subconsciously strong.
One day, he returned from work to find you asleep in his feather coat, nestled on your shared bed with a positive pregnancy test on the sideboard. Shocked, he slipped, inadvertently waking you up. As you opened your eyes, you saw the tall giant on his buttocks in front of the bed, all teary-eyed.
He'd approach you with a sweet smile and a gentle touch, hugging you in a warm embrace and assuring you that he's there for you no matter what.
"Mi amor, you've given me the greatest gift of all. I promise to be by your side every step of this journey, just as you've been by mine."
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Doflamingo's reaction might be a bit unexpected. He's not known for his compassion, but the news would still surprise him since he's always keen on protection.
He'd likely raise an eyebrow and give a smirk at the news, questioning you with his signature teasing tone, "Well, well, how unexpected. Don't tell me you forgot your pill on purpose."
Despite his initial demeanor, he'd keep a close eye on you, ensuring your comfort and well-being, even if he doesn't openly express it. Despite trusting Diamante and Trebol with his life, he would keep them at an arm's length away from you.
His soft side might manifest through subtle actions like providing comfort during late-night cravings, secretly getting things you wish for, or wrapping you in his pink feather coat.
"Well, well, well, it seems life has thrown us an interesting curveball. Don't think I'm going soft now, but I'll make sure you're taken care of. After all, I wouldn't want anything to happen to the future ruler of Dressrosa."
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Law, with his cool and collected exterior, might take a moment to process the news before his emotions catch up. He had already guessed what was up from your antsy behavior and Bepo telling him about your frequent late-night kitchen visits, but reality hit differently.
He'd likely pause, his gaze softening as he looks at you nervously biting your lip, almost certain he would react with disdain. Instead, a small, genuine smile would grace his lips, before he placed his hat on your head and embraced you in a warm hug, reassuring you of his stance.
Not much phased by obstetrics, he would start researching everything about pregnancy and childbirth, wanting to be as informed as possible to support you. Naturally, he would deliver the baby himself, his Room providing a secure and painless environment for you. He's too protective to let anyone else handle it.
While he might not show it outwardly, he'd be incredibly protective and make sure your needs are met, especially health-wise. Regular check-ups are a must, and if Shachi and Penguin annoy you, they can be sure to experience some rearranged limbs.
"You're amazing, you know that? I'm not sure I'm quite fit to be a father, but if we're going to navigate this together, I promise to do everything in my power to ensure you and the baby are safe and healthy. We've got this."
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Smoker would show a mix of surprise and concern upon hearing the news, his gruff exterior cracking just a bit.
He´d ask questions related to your health, ensuring that you're taking proper care of yourselves. He'd be on high alert, especially since he tends to smoke heavily.
As time goes on, he'd soften around the edges, finding himself more attentive and willing to offer help and assistance, even quitting smoking around you.
He might not express his emotions openly, but his actions would speak volumes, like quietly making sure you don't overexert yourselves or subtly rearranging your environment for safety.
"I never planned for something like this, but just know I've got your back. Make sure you're taking care of yourself, and if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I'll be keeping a close eye on you."
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Sabo's reaction would likely be a mix of joy and a hint of nervousness, as he'd want to ensure the best for you and the baby.
He'd start leaving cute notes or small gifts for you, showing his excitement in his own sweet way.
Sabo would take on the role of an unofficial cheerleader, always ready to provide you encouragement and reassurance.
He'd also engage in deep conversations with you about your future as parents and what you envision for your family. Luffy, Ace, and Koala would often visit and assist you with whatever you need.
"I can't even express how happy and blessed I feel right now. You and our baby mean everything to me. Let's face this adventure together, with all the love and support we need."
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Ace would be the embodiment of enthusiasm and excitement, immediately hugging you and spinning you around in a joyful embrace.
He'd become even more attentive than usual, constantly checking in on you and asking if you need anything.
Given his troubled childhood and strained relationship with his own dad, he might face phases of doubt. However, if you have his back as much as he does during his enthusiastic phases, you'll quickly pull him out of it.
You can bet he'd be doing research on how to be the best dad, and he'd share interesting and quirky facts he found on the internet.
He'd proudly proclaim the news to Luffy, Ace, and Garp, and he'd be the one organizing a surprise baby shower with Marco's help.
"I still can't believe all of this. We're going to be parents! I promise to make our family life full of love and appreciation. Just trust me on this."
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Kid's reaction might be a mix of surprise and a bit of concern about how this new development might affect his life plans.
However, as time goes on, he'd find himself growing more attached to the idea of becoming a parent.
He'd be the one to plan practical things like ensuring the home is baby-proofed and preparing for the baby's arrival in a pragmatic way.
Slowly, his tough exterior would soften, and he'd become more openly supportive and affectionate towards you, showing that he's fully invested in this new chapter of your lives.
"Honestly, I didn't see that coming, but I'm not one to shy away from challenges. We're in this together, and I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you and the baby are safe. You can count on me."
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ohimsummer · 5 months
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IT'S TOO COLD ft. BULLY! SUGURU
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— minors dni, anal, closet sex, bully! suguru x fem! reader, dubcon, fingering (anal), creampie, fem! reader, begging, pet names (puppy, darling), ending is a little rushed :'DD
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An icy breeze creeps through the cracks of your clothes, any inch of fabric careless enough not to shield you from cool winds. Your body lay way more unprotected than you were comfortable with, considering you were dressed for a brisk 70 degrees and not 15 degrees colder.
It’s appalling how the forecast could possibly be this inaccurate, but you’ve braved the weather so far, having no time to stop by your room for a jacket. Sure, the wind sent your little sundress fluttering and raised goosebumps on any bare patch of skin, but at least you weren’t late for any classes?
“You’re gonna catch a cold like that.”
At the sound of his voice, your feet fix themselves to the ground. You hadn’t even spotted him, too caught up in rushing to your final lecture and the comforting thought of a nice, warm nap after a day of classes.
You turn to watch Geto approach, clad in a dark sweater beneath a darker hooded coat, one he unzips as he draws nearer. He holds the garment out for you to take, amused at the doubt clouded over your expression.
“Come on, darling, you want my arm to get tired?,” he rushes you.
You cross arms over your chest, partially for warmth, partially in defiance, and unintentionally smushing your breasts up perfectly for Geto to get an eyeful, mumbling. “I don’t need your jacket.”
He raises a brow, eyes lingering on your shivering legs for less than innocent reasons, before flashing you his signature, calming grin. “Sure you don’t. Put it on, anyway.”
The subsequent pout of your bottom lip reminds him of Gojo. “But I d-“
“Now.” And you recognize the menacing look in his eyes, a forewarning to obey or else.
Without a word, you snatch the oversized jacket from him, slotting your arms through the spacious sleeves, and zipping it up to your chin. The length of it brushes your knees, and admittedly, you’re grateful for the extra coverage.
“There.,” as the collar of the jacket engulfs the lower half of your face. “Happy now?”
Geto pads even closer, chilly hands grazing your cheeks and ears to send a shiver up your spine, and pulls the hood over your head. He tugs at the strings to tighten it a little, brushing off complaints about your hair to make sure it fits snug.
“Perfect.,” he hums and pats the top of your head. “Though…”
A curious look plasters itself on your face as Geto tilts his head, gaze traveling from your head to toe, stopping again on the rest of your barren legs, and settling on your eyes. ‘C’mon’ he mutters with a hand around your wrist, essentially dragging you in the opposite direction.
“G-Geto!,” you quiet your protests to avoid judgmental stares. “I was g-, let go of me, I was going to class!”
He doesn’t break his gait, pulling you behind him to who-knows-where, your objections flowing straight over his head with the accompanying frigid gusts. Sounds of feet scuffing the ground as you fight against Geto’s steady strides, though to no avail as he slips you both into the campus’s art building. The halls are vacant, slightly less cold than outside, no noise except the loudening sound of drums and instruments as he guides you down a hall destined for trumpet players and the like.
You two arrive at an ordinary, brown door, a storage closet. Geto manhandles the knob, heaving it open with his shoulder against the wood, and gestures you inside. Glancing left and right and seeing no witnesses, you tiptoe inside, nerves worsening as Geto shuts the door behind you.
You mutter, “It’s dark in here.” And as if on cue, a dim, yellowish light fills the small room. Geto’s hand wraps around a dingy string tailing from a single lightbulb, before he walks forward to corner you against a tiny sink stuffed in the room.
“Wh-what are you–?,” croaks out, interrupted by him spinning you around to bend over the porcelain fixture.
“ ‘M warming you up.,” he replies, hands ducking beneath the jacket and your dress to glide up and down your thighs. “You felt pretty cold earlier, can’t let you walk around like that. I’ll help you out before sending you on your way.”
You crane your neck to look at him. Geto looks so much bigger cramped in this tiny janitor’s closet amidst forgotten cleaning supplies and gloomy concrete walls.
“Geto–“
“Suguru.,” he corrects.
You huff, brows furrowing at him, though his eyes are locked on the sight of your exposed panties from where he’s bundled both the jacket and your dress around your waist. “Suguru, I got a lecture to get to, and I’m running late–“
“Mhm.”
You clench at the sensation of something hard against your ass, rambling, “A–nd it’s important, we’re doing group–, group assignments–“
A loud ripping sound and your panties are gone, then the sound of spitting followed by a warm something dripping down the seam of your ass. “Tell me all about it, darling.”
Something prods at your puckered hole, and your lungs shrivel inside your ribcage. You choke out, “Su-Suguru, I really, really–,” a whine as his slick finger breaches your hole, “need to be in cla–ss!” He sinks knuckle-deep into the tight orifice, wriggling around before pumping a few shallow thrusts. Wetness builds between your legs, that knowing ache forming in your core as Geto stills the writhing of your hips with his other hand.
“Geto-!,” a corrective ‘smack’ that leaves a hot sting on your ass, yelping ‘oh!’ before you continue pleading. “Suguru, cut it out, I really can’t fail this class!”
“Of course you can’t.,” Geto says automatically, clearly not listening, too busy stuffing another finger in to prep your hole. His dick twitches as another glob of spit drops from his lips, soaking between his fingers as they stretch your little opening. He scissors them apart, earning a gasp from you, before retrieving them as Geto’s now decided you’re ready.
“Look at that, you feel warmer already.”, he laughs softly, hands tracing the expanse of your skin, trailing up your lower back to feel the new heat radiating off you.
Of course Geto’s right, his playtime with your hole has blossomed a scorching heat over your body, coated in a sheen of sweat, a blazing throb between your thighs. The mass of his chest weighs on your back, Geto’s hand moving over one of yours to lace your fingers together on the edge of the sink; wet sounds of him thrusting into his hand fill the room, and your asshole clenches when you feel something much larger breaching your inside.
“S-Suguru!,” you whine, clutching the smooth porcelain as his tip forces it’s way into your entrance. “O-oh fuck, wait!”
Geto ignores your pleas, already halfway in. Your neck tingles under the vibration of his groan, hot breath on your neck, and Geto makes himself at home amongst the tightness of your walls, you squeezing around his dick as he buries himself deeper. “Fuck. So tight, loosen up, darling.”
His leaking tip drags along your walls, and you both synchronize an unbroken moan when he finally bottoms out in you, flush against your ass. The fullness of it feels funny, but you don’t have time to dwell on it as Geto draws out, before slamming back inside and sending you careening forward. Choked whines echo amidst the small room, mingling with Geto’s low, animalistic grunts, and the occasional curse entwined with rasps of ‘feels so fucking good ’ and ‘god, you’re gonna snap my dick off’. He nibbles on your neck, sucks a dark bruise on the skin, a hand trailing down to balance your leg on the edge of the sink. You embed teeth into your fist, suddenly fearful of passerby overhearing your activities, though it in turn prompts Geto to force a deeper arch in your back, your ass rippling as he ruts into your behind.
Your needy pussy clenches around nothing, clit aching for some kind of stimulation but both of your hands are busy. “Suguru–! O-oh god, please!”
Geto tightens his grip, further entangling your fingers, leaning to press you down some more. “Please what? You want me to touch you?”
You nod with a whine, earning a hard thrust before mewling out, “Yes, yes!”
Geto hums in thought, lips brushing behind your shoulder, and pants ,” Well?” and when he notices the knit of your brows. “Start begging then.”
“But–“
“Ah, ah, I’m waiting.” And he presses a rough kiss to your cheek. The hand on your hip creeps ever closer to your core, tracing over the crease of your thighs but not daring to go any further. A babble of pleas fall off your tongue, tears threatening to slip down your cheeks as your pussy yearns for some kind of stimulation.
“I’m being such a good g-girl for you, Sugu, your good pup–py.”
Aw, aren’t you cute, pulling out the little nickname you’d angrily sworn at them to never use. ‘Why would I ever use that, I don’t even like you.’ Suguru licks up your jawline, smothering your neck in another layer of sloppy kisses. You pull your drool-soaked fist from your mouth, lips quivering. Geto looks through lustful eyes to meet your needy, wide-eyed gaze, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips at your subtle pout.
"Pretty please, Suguru, I really want it...", you whine.
You're such a sight for sore eyes, Geto thinks, tongue darting over his lips as he finally dips a finger between your folds. He's immediately met with your cry, watching your head fall as he massages the swollen nub under his middle finger, basking in the desperate mewls of his name that leave you.
"I wanna cum with you, Sugu, please, please, feels so, s-so good..”
Geto's smile widens. "Yeah?” You nod eagerly. “Ask politely, like a good puppy, and I’ll let you."
His fingers plunge deep into your spasming hole, leaking juices down to his wrist, the rough thrusts of his cock leaving words to catch in your throat. Your release is just around the corner, and it's a struggle to hold back the way Geto is pounding into you, with his thumb still pressing circles into your clit.
"May I please cum with you, Sugu, please, please, please?", you whimper into the back of your hand.
A short silence follows. Geto's way of toying with you further. The way you squeeze around his fingers and dick make it evident you're close, but he just wants to see. Is his puppy really gonna go ahead and cum without his say so?
"Please–!" It's taking all your strength, and you don't know how much longer you can hold out. "Suguru, fuck, I-I might–“
And his answer feels like a blessing in your ears. "Go ahead, darling. Cum with me."
You let out a broken, choked moan, trembling in Geto's hands as your orgasm sends you over the edge. He thinks you just might actually cut off his dick the way you contract around him, groaning against your neck as he releases thick strings of cum into your entrance. Geto spreads your ass cheeks wide as he pulls out. Globs of his cum dribble out your tight hole, trailing down to mix with the cum leaking from your cunt. If not for Suguru holding you up, surely you would have collapsed on the floor, legs weak and useless in keeping you upright. Geto gives your ass a little smack, before readjusting your dress and his jacket to make you look a little more decent.
"There, all done.," he says. "Want me to walk you to class, now?"
You roll your eyes, shivering and gulping in air. Of course he’s wants to be funny with his cum running down your legs. Between shaky breaths, you rasp, "It's too–, far too late for that."
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tagz: @anthoosies today i offer u bully suguru, tomorrow….who knowz
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