#Should I try opening requests for something like this on tumblr

[goingmerryfics]

Hii!!! i really love all your writing and wanted to request smth if that's okay!

could i request law x so who's into lolita fashion/subculture? Like, on days that they're able to they'll wear really extravagant looking lolita dresses and such, and is just overall really girly, and might be embarrassed about being such, esp with someone like him. but maybe he even likes that they're aesthetic opposites. idk fjsjfjfk

Ty!! <3

(idk if i need to say this but lolita fashion doesn't have anything to do with the. other uses of the term. sometimes ppl make accusations abt it but the jfashion and book are not related)

Lolita Style S/O w/ Law

Content: can be read as GN reader that wears skirts, all SFW

Notes* Thanks for being patient with me while I worked on this request! A couple of things popped up for me (and my new-used computer quit suddenly so I have to wait to see if it can be repaired or if I should just buy a brand new one) so I’ve been trying to work around this. Back to mobile tumblr I go 😢 ! Anyway- I know all too well how lolita culture gets sexualized in people’s eyes so this is a completely nsfw-free request. I made this more relatable to those in sweet style lolita more than gothic lolita since you’d commented about them being opposites and personally, I think it would be super cute for him to be paired with someone with this style. Hope you like it :)

Law

Law isn’t the type to pay attention to what people wear as long as they are dressed in proper uniform when need be. Self expression is something personal, and he’s aware of different everyone’s style is

Though he finds it hard not to notice how you dress on your days off, whether it’s just around the sub or out on the town

It’s a lot of pastel, and a lot of fabric

You hadn’t thought of what Law or the others might’ve thought the first time you dressed up, so when you kept catching Law staring at you at various points of the day, you started to feel a little nervous

Later though, the two of you had crossed paths and he stopped you there to ask about your choice of clothing

While you explained how you enjoyed the colours and the overly girly feel of it all, he listened to every word, and even asked you some questions- like how everything fit together, and how you chose to match your accessories to your clothes

He was intrigued, and being a knowledgeable man, he wanted to learn about you and your clothing style

He’d even gone off to do his own research at the next island, and secretly commissioned a seamstress to make a little purse modeled after Bepo’s face for your outfits because god knows this guy can’t sew for shit

Law had been waiting for you outside of your door, his present to you held in his hand, in a sweet little bag. You weren’t expecting to see him, nor were you expecting any sort of gift- it was nowhere near your birthday- but here he was. He pushes himself off from leaning against the door when he sees you.

“Here. I’m not sure if it’s alright, but I thought you might be able to use this.”

He hands you the bag, and you thank him before going off about how he didn’t need to get you anything, and asking what the occasion is as you dig through the white, glittery tissue paper to open it.

“No occasion. I just thought you’d like it.” He tries to act nonchalant and calm, but he’s watching your face for any changes to see if you like it or not.

You pull out the bag and gasp- it was perfect. Fluffy and pristine white, perfect for an outfit you’d been trying to put together for a while now- and it looked like your dear crewmate. You pull it to your chest with a big smile, going on a bit of a ramble at how cute it is, and how you’re going to use it right away.

The entire time you’re squealing over your new gift he’s smiling to himself, even if he doesn’t realize it.

The next time you change into your style, you make sure to keep the mini Bepo bag at your side. It goes great with your outfit

Bepo freaks out a little at the likelihood of the purse and his own face, but you quickly calm him down and explain that it’s not the head of a polar bear that you’re carrying around

Law watches you fawn over the bag with him from a distance, smiling to himself

He joins you later to walk around town with you. He’s come to enjoy how your style stands out so well beside him against his usual darker clothes

Law will also help you get dressed if you let him, buckling your shoes for you so you don’t have to fight the layers of skirt to reach your feet, or helping you pin up your hair pieces

You’d asked him once if he’d like to try men’s lolita style and he was very quick to shut that down.

“It looks better on you than it will on me.”

He really just likes seeing you as the unique one

#one piece #harleywritesop #hwop #trafalgar law #law one piece #op law #harleyasks #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar op #trafalgar one piece

[lsuyia]

❝𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑❞

A/N - ngl i literally pulled this out my ass at 11 am since i rlly needed to start posting on my tumblr more, pls request fic ideas!

relationship is established! also fem!reader

MDNI

ᡣ𐭩

satoru gojo, just seems like the the type of person to randomly be scrolling on instgram,— barely finding interesting and find a video of a baby.

The baby could be doing anything, laughing, giggling, saying its first word,—and like fucking magic will automatically text you about it, spam calling you

it all just started as one simple cute video that satoru saw, making his baby fever go through the roof.

One fucking video, was all it took.

You would get home from work, wanting to take a nap, oh but here he comes, bending you over on the kitchen table, making your legs tremble, just so he can try to get you pregnant.

“Spread wide open f’me, yeah?”

You started to wonder what was going on when one day he magically appeared when you were showering saying he wanted to shower with his beautiful girlfriend, which you knew he was lying straight through his teeth.

Few minutes later, he has you pinned against the shower wall, going at an ungodly pace bruising your cervix in the process with every thrust as he smiles seeing breathless, flustered face.— which some how always seemed to keep him hard.

“Just a little longer for daddy?”

You automatically knew when he said that something was going on, and you were going to get to the bottom of it.

For days straight, satoru would always have you bend over, legs up, on the floor,on the wall, in the bed, in the car fucking you dumb until he finally came inside you.

Everytime.

At this point you were getting concerned that you might actually get you pregnant.

So, you decided to finally open up about the whole dilemma, you couldnt keep going on like this.

“toru baby?” You called out to him after minutes thinking about if you should actually do this. “coming.” He said back as his light footsteps treaded across the living room before finally appearing in-front of you before he sat beside you. “yeah honeybun?” He softly spoke to you while his hand traveled to your thighs, squeezing at the plush.

“I wanted to talk to you about something..” You trailed off at the end, which in gojo’s eyes sounded pretty serious to him. His head immediately turned to look at you looking at you concerned. “Do you think we could like…—calm down with the sex?”

You spoke softly to him not even looking at him out of pure embarrassment of the situation. The silence was so loud after you spoke to him,— until he finally casually spoke back to you“yea baby thats fine, if you wanted to calm down you could’ve told me earlier.” He said with a shrug seeming like the situation didn’t affect him at all.

Oh but, it very much did.

In his eyes, It sounded like you didnt want to have a child with him, which drove him absolutely insane.

The constant sex ban worked for a full month until he was back at it again.

You couldn’t even take off your shoes without him touching your nipples through your clothes, just to turn you on and get you into bed with him.

One thing lead to another and you and him getting into a heated argument in your shared bedroom.

“Gojo, what is up with you? I cant even walk into the fucking house without you trying to finger me!” you exclaimed practically yelling at him. Your attitude towards him at him caught in a dumb daze. You were starting to get tired of the constant sex every day.

He was yelling back before but now he was silent as he stood in front of you not speaking, you rarely ever called him last name which let him know you were pretty serious about the whole ordeal.

He couldn’t keep his need for you under wraps for any longer.

“Honeybun, I want a baby.” He said to you, as his light blue eyes locked with yours.

You were honestly shocked at him, he wanted a baby? The only word you could even speak was

“what?”

“honeybun, I want a baby with you.” He leaned towards you cupping your face as he planted tender kisses.

“I want to see you and me mixed together, I wanna see both of us go through mother and fatherhood, I want to see all of you honeybun.” He said grabbing your hands interlocking them with his. He was really genuine and heartfelt about the whole baby fever nonsense.

You were still in slight shock, but you had a small thought about the idea of you and satoru’s kid still fresh in your mind at the moment

—

Needless to say, you finally found out why gojo was acting crazy all those months ago

You sighed watching television with your pregnant belly while gojo had his arms wrapped around you and his head lightly resting on your stomach, careful not to hurt you at any point

“Their going to be so cute.”

he hummed giving your tummy a tender kiss.

#gojo satoru #jjk smut #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #gojo saturo #x reader #fanfic #smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #breeding k1nk #gojo x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen 18+ #jujustu kaisen #isuyiafics!

[mr-ribbit]

gonna rant again bc im seeing a lot of trans women on my dash having to carry the heavy lifting to argue for their basic respect and a lot of other queer people who want to ??? get mad about that apparently. for the record as usual: im tme, im not speaking for anyone besides myself and my perspectives, but I am trying to reach out to fellow tme people to level with y'all from inside the house.

i thought we all got past the 'calling people gendered terms when theyve asked you to stop' thing in like. 2012. i swear we were allllll on board with not calling women dude anymore, nerfing sir and ma'am, neutralizing collective terms for groups, and all of that was like, during the onceler era. that's how we got off-putting shit like folx into the mix - remember???? why are we here again.

to those who I've seen claiming that they REALLY genuinely don't want to offend anyone, and that theyre trying to understand the dude thing, and they don't want to be seen as transmisogynistic when they aren't: ok. let's talk about it. step one, stop sending that really loaded anon to a trans woman you don't know, and close that in-group hatepost with 100 replies from people name-dropping trans bloggers they don't like. try to open your mind and assume for the duration of this post that I am not cynically trying manipulate thousands of tumblr users into making Bro the next big swear word, but a fellow queer human being who thinks you're all being pretty intentionally obtuse about an upsetting trend in our community

to be clear: this post is about the issue of trans women being called bro, dude, man, etc., particularly in recent tumblr discourse about transmisogyny, and the backlash they face if they get upset about it. this is also maybe moreso about the shitty ass excuses I see tme people make for why they supposedly can't stop doing this.

so let's go through some of the things I've been seeing people say they don't understand, supposedly in earnest, about this issue

"I DIDNT USE DUDE AS A MASCULINE TERM. I CALL EVERYONE BRO. MAN IS A GENDER NEUTRAL TERM"

I'm not actually going to exhaust my list of reasons why dude/bro/man are not strictly neutral, but you should be pretty aware that all words have context. Dude might be seen as neutral in many contexts, sure, but 'woman who is frequently called a man by others' is a situation where the context adds extra meaning to your words, just like calling someone "sweetie" might be neutral in some cases, but if you've got the context of knowing that's your coworker who's half your age, it's a bit less neutral. If you're not capable of reading that context and being tasteful about when you say dude, then you need to at least be ready to respond gracefully when someone asks you to stop. This is the part I'd rather focus on.

"BUT I DIDNT MEAN IT THAT WAY. IM NOT TRANSPHOBIC"

I think you should consider broadening your perspective *beyond* your intention behind the word. people may already understand that you meant the word neutrally and therefore didn't have transmisogynistic intent, but that's not really the entire scope of what people are saying. if that's your only concern, you're just trying to clear your record, not actually listen to what they're saying.

there are lots of words people don't enjoy being called, and in most cases, when they say 'pls don't call me that', people respect that and move on. even if the word isn't a slur, if it hurts someone's feelings, we all as a society have agreed that it's pretty shitty to keep calling them that. if your friend asked you not to call them 'buddy' anymore because their dead grandparent called them that, or something equivalently personal, you'd probably respect that instead of telling them 'but I call everyone buddy!!' right? even if you didn't really understand why it bothered them so much?

there is a prominent tendency for trans women to be denied this privilege, and when they ask not to be called dude or bro, people don't seem to respect this request as much as they would in other situations. when I accidentally use a gendered word and someone tells me they don't like it, I try to respond with something like "my bad, I didn't mean it as misgendering but I can see you were still bothered by it, so I'll try not to keep saying it. sorry!" and most people are willing to accept that. when trans women ask people this favor, a lot of people get VERY defensive, and treat the request as inane or unfair, instead of just apologizing and moving on. this is why people are upset when this happens, and it's why people are calling your actions transmisogynistic

also like you might not be doing this, but a lot of people DO use dude and bro in an intentionally gendered way to make trans women uncomfortable. it's a power play bigots use to talk down to them or otherwise maliciously harass them. do you know what arguments they use to defend that behavior when called out on it? 'oh I call everyone that' 'dude is gender neutral calm down' 'dont overreact its just a word'. by acting like this, youre all just giving credence to those same arguments.

"WELL THEY SHOULDNT GET SO MAD AT ME WHEN I DIDNT MEAN ANY HARM"

they can get as mad as they want!! also, are you sure they're 'mad'? or are they just expressing their feelings about a negative topic to you, and it makes you feel bad, so you have to make them out to be unreasonably emotional? how do you think they should have phrased 'dont call me that' to better spare *your* feelings?

also like, in most cases, these women do not knowww you. if your main response to someone saying you disrespected them is to say "I didnt mean it that way, I meant it in a friendly neutral way", well that's NOT YOUR FRIEND! she has no idea what your opinions are or what you think of her!!! she has no reason to assume you only upset her in a friendly way and not a bad unfriendly way! but she did get upset, and she did the one thing she can do which is *tell you what upset her* and your response is to say "well actually you shouldn't be upset at all"??????

and another thing:

it's not just the issue of using the word 'dude', it's because you're coming off extremely dismissive of women who have asked you to stop doing something that harms them, and because your argument is basically that they just shouldn't be so bothered by it. or that they're stupid, irrational, or otherwise crazy for telling you that it bothered them at all, just because you Technically used a gender neutral word according to Your Rules. be honest, does that seem fair? If people were calling you something that bothered you enough to ask them to stop, and they responded like this, how would it make you feel?

focusing solely on your intent and what the words mean when you use them is the same thing as saying "just get over it". no woman should need to Prove to you that 'dude' is gendered for you to care about what she's saying. the fact that you're asking people to do that sucks and makes you look bad, which is why people are arguing with you and calling you a misogynist.

especially those of you who are only doing this with trans women who are actively arguing with. you're wielding misgendering as a cudgel and we can all see it, grow up please.

#discourse cw #transmisogyny cw

[luvrxbunny]

Hey lady can I request gynecologist Miguel? Tomorrow I’m going to the gynecologist I’m freaking out 😨🥲

fucckkk

i wrote like half of this and then it disappeared so i apologize if it seems lazy or weird it’s cus i hate tumblr

also this is closer to perv!gyno Miguel 😈

ANYWAY!! LETS GET HORNY

“hello. im miguel, i’ll be your doctor today. i know it can be uncomfortable for some women to have a male doctor but we’re understaffed at the moment.”

your nervousness is a part of your bloodstream at this point and the male presence is not helping. “s-so there’s no one else?” you ask timidly, still staring up at the ceiling as you speak, too embarrassed to see the look on his face. you hear a faint chuckle behind you and your nervous sweats start up, sending an uncomfortable shiver through you. “no, sweetheart, i’m sorry. it’s just me.” you nod silently.

his voice is soothing but more nerve wracking at the same time. it’s calming due to how smooth and deep it is but it’s also adding a new worry to your arsenal. he walks around your chair and comes into view. you can’t see his face due the light in your face but you can see how big he is. his broad shoulders almost take up your entire view as he looms over you. you pretend not to feel the way your pushy flutters at his sheer size.

however you’re unable to ignore the way your thighs tense once you can see his features. he has dark curls framing his face, high cheekbones, a defined jaw, dark crimson eyes, and pinkish lips. his eyebrows twitch with a subtle amused smile that makes you feel like he can tell but stays silent.

he turns to his desk, grabs his clipboard, a chair and pulls himself up to the side of your little bed/seat. “so this is just an annual checkup, yes?” you take a deep breath and nod silently before realizing he’s not looking at you. “mhm. yes, yes.” he nods while scribbling something down. he flips one page and his face twitches in confusion. “and—“ he checks another page before flipping back. “and this is your first checkup..?”

his eyes are wide with shock when he looks up at you and you have to avert your gaze to breathe. “uhm… yeah.” his eyes wide even further like he didn’t believe what he was seeing on the papers. “reall—? i mean i- okay.” he shakes his head and takes a deep breath before meeting your eyes again. “i hope you aren’t too nervous” you shrug silently as your stomach churns. he smiles softly and starts the appointment

meow meow meow mini time skip!!

he slides his gloves on and you jump at the snap of the latex. “legs on the stirrups please.” he phrases it like a question but it has the force of a command. you gasp quietly at the cold air on your pussy. he walks around and takes a seat at the edge of the chair, right between your legs. you hear him take a deep breath and fear shoots through you, waiting to be scolded or chastised for something. but he stays silent and just gets to work.

his fingers spread above your pussy, pressing down gently and his thumb covers your clit, immediately starting it’s circling movements. you tense and sit up, about to say something but his face is straight and focused, giving you no signs of foul play.

is this normal? it must be.

you sit back down and he gives a low hum of approval. you try not to squirm or moan as he toys with you. your pussy is suddenly flooding with your slick. you were worried about being too dry in the midst of your nerves and anxiety but now you’re definitely getting too wet.

in truth, miguel doesn’t know what’s come over him. he’s just obsessed with how pretty your pussy is. your soft, plump lips are basically calling to him, your pink nub, pulsing in his face. you’re teasing him. and now— the way your floodgates have opened for him? you’re leaking. so how is it his fault that he has to finger you now?

his gloved hand is prodding at your entrance and pushing in within the minute. you shoot up again but your eyes meet his this time. “is this okay?” he asks with a voice you swear should be in a bedroom setting. you’re breathless, chest is heaving as you stare at him. “w-what?” you ask, baffled by his question. his head tilts and his fingers crook up to press into your g-spot. you yelp and your knees cave in, almost touching as your orgasm builds in your stomach. “are you feeling any… discomfort?”

your eyes almost cross at his teasing tone but instead you shut them and shake your head rigorously. “m-mm. no discomfort.” you let out a whiny breath at the end of your sentence and hold back a beg as you reach the edge.

miguel can see your legs begin to shake, trembling at his sides before tensing and freezing. your eyes are shut tight as you cum on his fingers, squeezing around them rhythmically as your fingers dig into the leather of the seats, leaving little tears from your finger nails. he watches the way your hole clenches around his fingers and pushes out a new load of your essence, making his fingers glisten along with the trail a droplet is leaving on your skin, leading down to your ass and his cover sheet.

he’ll probably have to cut that part out and take it home with him

FUCK I HOPE I DIDN’T BURN MYSELF OUT AGAIN

IM LITERALLY WRITING THIS AT 12:38AM 😭

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel smut #miguel imagine #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara spider man #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara drabble #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #spiderman 2099 miguel o'hara #2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #sm 2099 #miguel 2099 #spiderman 2099 #marvel 2099

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙠’𝙨 𝙙𝙤𝙤𝙧 ♡︎

anon asked: Soo I saw you take requests even for npc's so I figured I'd shoot my shot or whatever though I know you have a lot of asks so if this stresses you out don't worry about it but the fatui pyro agents? The fucker with the fire knives? Yeah that bitch? I firmly belive someone should fuck him till he crys and begs to cum

characters: sub!fatui agent x nb!dom!reader

warnings: overstimulation, orgasm denial, begging, dacryphillia, “master” kink, hair pulling, exhibitionism, degrading, size kink, dumbification, creampie, cock can be interpreted as a strap on!

notes: nobu back in her horny era! on today’s post we have, fucking an npc stupid! repost bc tumblr can’t win against me

how did it come to this? with the strong, reliable, capable agent being railed stupid as his supposed next target keeps his salacious sobs and cries of pleasure silent with their bigger hand, the other holding his leg up. pushing it up further and further into an impossibly hard angle as he claws at the doors of northland bank.

a mewl slips out of his mouth as his target slips their hand off of their mouth, instead opting to keep him up by fisting at his short, grey locks. the tears that were welling in his eyes starts to fall as a drool slips from his lips and down to the floor. legs shaking as his hips weakly, pathetically twitched back to meet up with your thrusts.

“maah-! master! please!! not-noT HEREE MNGGH!♡︎♡︎” biting down on his already bruised and bleeding lips, the agent lets out another sob as he felt his orgasm approaching.

everything felt too much but so little at the same time. he wanted more. more of your cock, more of your cum, more more more!!

the fatuus felt your cock split him open. veiny, long girth breaking him apart as the tip harshly kissed his prostate over and over again. archons, he didn’t even know something like that existed until you forcibly pushed him inside one of the empty rooms of his workplace and had your way with him.

he wanted it, he craved it - no. he needed it.

needed to be fucked by you until his mind breaks, leaving behind nothing but the delicious feeling of your strap forcing him open over and over.

needed to hear you call him degrading names as tears fall from his eyes. sobbing and keening loudly, unable to form any sentences. not even a single plea to save himself and his pride.

needed to trash around as you placed a hand over the bump on his stomach. pushing on the growing bulge of your cock and cum mixed together as he writhes against the wall, sliding down more and more as your large hands on his waist leaves bruises.

needed it as you forced him not to cum again as the strap pours another large amount of cum into his gaping hole. almost falling down to the floor if it wasn’t for your strong arms keeping him up.

needed to beg. whine, wail, keen as you wrap a hand around the angry tip of his cock, placing your thumb over his dripping slit as he begged you in a heap of mess. trying to get the blinding feeling of finally cumming.

“mas-! master!! maste-anngh haah mmph♡︎♡︎!! please? pleasepleasepleaseplease-♡︎♡︎!!” another orgasm denial as you force his smaller body flush against the wall while still continuing to pound into his hole.

the fatuus’ leg shook horribly, standing on his tiptoes as you forced his walls to get used to your size, to remember your shape, to carve every little detail into his mind, into his body. into his prostate.

“you’re not gonna cum haah fuck- until i allow you to. got it, slut?” whispering in a hoarse voice next to his ear, you continued to pound into his sensitive spots. not even caring that the amount of cum you forced him to take dripping down his shaking thighs. some even dripping down to the floor, mixing with his tears and drool.

“yes-! yes master! master! master! my master♡︎♡︎♡︎!!” drunkenly blabbering about some random gibberish, the agent let out another whine as your seeds filled him up again. the skin of his stomach stretching more and more as if his body craved your cum.

finally feeling satisfied with how much you filled him up, you stood up straight to look at the beautiful art you created out of him.

trembling body flush against the wall as his hands desperately clawed at the stone, legs barely holding himself up only thanks to your help. large amount of cum gushing and slipping out from around your strap, dripping down, staining the perfect, wooden floor of the bank.

what a perfect toy you found for yourself.

slipping yourself out, you ignored his babbles about sex drunken shit before pulling out a toy from your bag - a butplug.

fingering the cum back into his fluttering hole, you plugged him close with the toy. a lewd shlick! coming out followed by the agent’s sobs.

“keep them all inside until our next meeting okay, my slut?” giving a warning squeeze to his still shaking thighs, a cruel grin spread across your face as he nodded dumbly.

maybe you should do this to him more often.

#nobu.writes #sub genshin impact #sub genshin #sub!genshin #sub!genshin impact #sub yandere #sub fatui #fatui x reader #fatui x you #fatui smut #fatui agent #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader smut #genshin smut #sub!character #dom fem reader #dom male reader #dom amab reader #dom afab reader #dom!reader #dom gn reader #x dom reader #dom reader #dom!fem!reader #dom!amab reader

[proxima-writes]

the right wrong number

pairing: pre/no outbreak!joel miller x soccer coach!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 6k

summary:

When Joel receives a dirty text from an unknown number, he gives into his curiosity and messages back.

He doesn’t expect the number to belong to his daughter’s summer camp soccer coach.

dear reader:

this work is a request and a birthday gift for my sweet baby @mydailyhyperfixations , who’s been one of my biggest supporters since i started posting my work on tumblr. ily, and i hope you love the fic! special thanks to @cutesyscreenname for helping me with some lil details to finish this surprise. support and mdni banners by @saradika

content warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), age difference (undefined, but references are made), pre/no outbreak!joel miller, identity porn, wrong number au, sexting, dom/sub dynamics, use of ‘sir’, pet names, praise, thigh riding, semi-public sexual activity, spanking, safe word discussion, dirty talk, p in v. let me know if i’ve missed any!

Unknown Number: I had a really good time at dinner tonight!

Joel stares at his phone in confusion. It’s past midnight and he’s been sitting on the couch nursing a beer and watching Indiana Jones. He’s been in the same spot since Sarah went to bed a couple hours ago. His phone beeps again.

Unknown Number: It’s too bad we didn’t have time to visit Noir.

Joel raises his eyebrows. Noir is a bar in downtown Austin known for its calendar of speciality kink events. He’s seen it come up in his Google searches of local bars and had considered going to an event or two but never worked up the courage. His kinks remain between him and his porn search history.

Unknown Number: Wanna see what you missed out on?

[Photo 01.jpg]

Curiosity gets the better of him and he clicks on the image attachment. He nearly drops his phone when a photo of a woman fills his screen, sweet curves hugged by black lace on white sheets. He should absolutely tell her that she has the wrong number. His fingers type across the screen.

Damn, seems a shame something that gorgeous is going to waste.

Unknown Number: Who says it has to go to waste?

Joel swallows nervously. He’s already hard in his jeans, cock pressing urgently against his pants. He palms himself, trying to collect his thoughts.

Unknown Number: I’m feeling a little needy over here.

[Photo 02.jpg]

Against his better judgment, Joel opens the second photo and has to bite back a groan at the image of the woman’s hand slipped beneath the waistband of the panties, fingers hidden from sight behind lace and silk.

You want me to tell you how to play with that pretty pussy?

Joel squeezes his eyes shut as he presses send. This is a colossally stupid idea. This is a stranger, and he’s not the intended recipient of these messages.

Unknown Number: I’d really like that, sir.

Fuck it, Joel thinks. In for a penny, in for a pound.

Start by circling those fingers over your clit. Nice and slow.

And when you feel like you could cum, I want you to go even slower.

Unknown Number: It’s too slow. I want more.

Be patient, baby. And aren’t you forgetting something?

Unknown Number: Sorry. I want more, SIR.

Joel presses a hand to the bulge in his jeans, the pressure offering little relief.

Now don’t start being a brat, sweetheart. You won’t like the result.

Unknown Number: Oh yeah? What would you even do?

I’d love nothing more than to bend you over the edge of the bed, ass ready to be spanked red.

Unknown Number: Fuck, that would feel so good. Bet your hands would feel amazing marking me up.

You still being a good girl and following my instructions?

Unknown Number: I think I forgot. Could you remind me, sir?

You’ll have to ask more nicely than that.

Unknown Number: Could you *please* remind me, sir?

Joel runs a hand over his beard before reaching for the forgotten beer on the coffee table and taking a swig.

You’re supposed to be teasing yourself for me. Nice and slow.

I want you to pinch your nipples until they’re nice and tight, too.

Unknown Number: Like this?

[Photo 03.jpg]

Joel bites his lip as he opens the third photo. You’ve got your bra pulled down to expose your nipples, hard and perfect and begging for his mouth. He unbuttons his jeans, tossing his phone on the couch only long enough to shimmy the denim down his thighs and free his leaking cock.

Just like that, baby. Such a good girl for me.

Unknown Number: Are you touching yourself, too, sir?

Of course I am, baby.

Unknown Number: Can I see, sir? Please?

Joel’s hand falters as alarm bells blare in his head. He should absolutely not open his camera. And he should definitely not find the perfect angle that doesn’t show his face. And he certainly should not grip his cock around the base, holding it steady as the shutter sounds and a new photo is saved to his camera roll.

No. He shouldn’t do any of that.

[Photo 04.jpg]

Unknown Number: God, your cock would feel so good in me right now.

Joel’s right hand moves at a steady pace up and down his length, left hand fumbling to type a reply.

Why don’t you fuck your little fingers and pretend it’s me, then?

Unknown Number: Won’t fill me up nearly as much, sir.

Be a good girl and follow my directions, baby.

Unknown Number: [Photo 05.jpg]

He opens the photo and his cock pulses in his fist. She has her underwear shoved to the side, two fingers plunged into her glistening pussy. His mind reels with an image of this faceless woman writhing on the bed reading his words, thinking about his cock stretching her open and he has to bite his lip to just keep the responding moan trapped in his throat.

Unknown Number: Can I cum, sir? Please?

Since you asked so nicely, yes. Make yourself cum for me, sweetheart.

Joel sets the phone aside on the couch, closing his eyes as he pumps himself with a tight fist while he imagines your desperate pussy clenching around your fingers. He cups his palm over the head of his cock as his release hits him like a freight train, hips flexing from the couch to chase the lingering sensations of ecstasy from his hand.

He stands, pulling his pants up without bothering to fasten them so that he can wash his hands in the kitchen sink. Guilt settles on his shoulders as he dries his hands with the dish towel while he stares at the couch where his phone is lit up with another message from a stranger he had no business seeing that much of.

He approaches the couch and sits with a sigh, running a hand over his face before picking his phone up to read her message:

Unknown Number: Easily my best orgasm. Hope it was for you, too. Don’t be a stranger xx

Feeling like an asshole, Joel deletes the thread and the wrong number for good, but it’s fine.

It’s not like he’ll ever meet her, anyways.

——————

You’re on the phone with your best friend, telling her about how the last guy you went out with about a week ago, a guy named Jeremy you met on a dating app, still hasn’t reached out to you again despite what you’d thought was a successful date.

“So he just never reached out to you after you sexted him all night?” She asks. “Men are so weird.”

You cradle the phone between your ear and shoulder as you zip up your duffel bag of equipment. It’s the beginning of June and the summer soccer intensive camp for junior league starts today. You’ve got a full registration for the girl’s 13-15 division and you’re excited to get back on the field and help these girls do their best in a sport you love.

“Nope. Maybe I came on too strong? I don’t know,” you reply.

“You did come strongly. At least, that’s what you told me,” she says with a laugh. “Well, that’s too bad. Maybe you’ll meet a hot dad coaching this year.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not fucking someone’s dad.”

“Never say never, babe.”

“I gotta go find my damn cleats. I’ll talk to you later,” you tell her.

“Fine, I expect a full run down of every DILF you meet today.”

You hang up as she laughs, tossing your phone into your personal bag that you keep separate from the gear before you go in search of your cleats from your room.

——————

Joel and an over-excited Sarah sit in the parking lot of the soccer field that her summer camp is being conducted at, ridiculously early at Sarah’s insistence because she didn’t want to be late on the first day. They’re the only car in the parking lot so far, having apparently beat even the coach, and Joel sips at his travel mug of coffee in the hopes that it grants him energy.

Another car pulls up and parks beside his truck, loud music blaring from the open window. Sarah waves excitedly.

“That’s the coach,” she explains.

Joel watches you get out of your car and pop the trunk. You start pulling out bags of soccer balls and stacks of orange cones, bags of agility equipment and strength training aids. He opens the door to his truck and jogs over.

“Hey, you need any help with that?” He asks. You look over at him in surprise, eyes wide.

“Oh, uh, sure. That would be great,” you reply.

“I’m Joel Miller, and this is my daughter, Sarah,” he says, gesturing to the young girl. She gives a little wave and he extends a hand out to you.

You give him your name, shaking his outstretched hand. “Y’all are a little early,” you reply, hefting a bag over your shoulder.

“My dad’s always late but I didn’t want to be late for camp,” Sarah says. Joel narrows his eyes at her.

“Not a problem. You can help me set up the cones,” you tell her. His daughter gives you a bright smile and he almost forgives her for throwing him under the bus. “I’ll grab these two bags, you grab the cones, and Mr. Miller, could you grab the balls, please?”

Joel fights back his childish laughter at your request, grabbing the bags as instructed. “Just Joel, please.”

You smile at him and he feels a bit blindsided by how it makes his heart beat faster, his palms a little sweatier. You’re very pretty, fresh faced and ready for a day of work, wearing one of those quick dry workout shirts that clings to your curves and a pair of shorts that show off your strong legs. Some traitorous part of his brain wonders what it would feel like to have those legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Alright then, Just Joel. Let’s go.”

——————

“Thank you for the help,” you tell Sarah’s dad. You’re trying very hard not to let your eyes linger on the bulge of his biceps or the broad expanse of his back as he sets down the two bags of soccer balls and places his hands on his hips.

He’s a handsome man, older than you by at least a few years, with tan skin and dark hair and kind brown eyes that crinkle at the corners when he smiles at something Sarah says. His daughter has the same brown eyes and olive skin, her dark curly hair pulled into a bun.

Of course the first parent you meet this summer is a hot dad. It’s like you’ve spoken it into the universe.

“Not a problem. Glad I can be useful if I’m goin’ to be here this early,” he replies with a narrowed glance at Sarah, who is suddenly very interested in the stack of cones she carried to the field. “Anythin’ else you need me for?”

“Let me get you the game schedule and contact sheet.” You open your bag and pull out your folder of materials you like to give to parents, assembling a stack of papers for him. “On top you’ve got the emergency contacts sheet. Fill that out with your contact information and an alternate’s information, too, just in case I can’t reach you or someone else needs to pick Sarah up. You’ll want to have Sarah bring that back tomorrow.”

You flip the page. “The second page is just a welcome letter. It’s got my phone number on it, feel free to text or call if you have any questions or if Sarah can’t make it one day.”

“And then last we’ve got the camp schedule. The girls will have two tournament days where they’ll play against some nearby summer camp leagues. You can sign up to bring a snack by filling out the piece at the bottom. Do you have any questions?”

“I don’t suppose I do. You’re very organized,” he says, taking the packet from you. You can feel your cheeks heating.

“Thanks,” you murmur. “Well, I gotta finish setting up.”

“I won’t get in your way.” He calls out to Sarah and the young girl runs up to give him a hug goodbye. “Be good. I’ll see you later.”

——————

Joel Miller is the first at the field in the mornings helping you set up for the day and last parent to leave at pick-up, after he’s loaded your trunk up with the equipment, wiping the sweat from his brow as he grins at you.

His daughter is a great player, quick on her feet and smart as a whip, picking up the footwork skills you teach like they’re second nature. You’re telling Joel as much Friday afternoon in the second week of camp when Sarah bounds up and asks if you want to get ice cream with them.

“That’s a great idea, baby girl,” Joel says before you can decline. You blink at him and he gives you that lopsided grin that’s been giving you butterflies since the first day on the field. “But if you order mint chocolate chip, you’re buyin’ it yourself.”

“Good news, I’m a plain ol’ chocolate kinda gal,” you tell him with a laugh.

“Me, too!” Sarah says.

“I’ll follow you guys,” you suggest. Joel gives you a quick nod, herding Sarah into his truck and taking off toward town.

You follow them to a little ice cream parlor, the kind that sells old fashioned sundaes and thick milkshakes with red and white striped straws. You park beside them, watching as Sarah hops from the truck with a wide grin on her face and her dad comes around, slinging a strong arm over her shoulder and pulling her close. Your heart feels warm looking at them.

Once inside, Joel and Sarah end up ordering a sundae to split while you get a small cone of chocolate ice cream. You try to tell Joel not to pay for you, but he hits you with a look that has your mouth going dry, any argument disappearing as all your blood rushes south and makes you ache between your legs.

“I’ll go get us a table outside,” you offer, licking at your treat. You don’t miss the way Joel’s eyes track the path of your tongue.

You watch the busy foot traffic while you wait for the Millers to join you, the warm Texas air wrapped around you while you enjoy the slight breeze and your cold dessert.

A deep voice calls your name and you look around, finding a familiar face on the crowded sidewalk.

“Jeremy, hey. How are you?” You ask as the man approaches. It feels like forever ago that you went to dinner together and looking at him now you think he’s handsome but he doesn’t hold a candle to Joel.

“I’m good. Been busy. I gotta say, I was a little bummed I didn’t hear from you after our date. Thought we had a good time,” he says, running a hand through his hair.

“Didn’t…hear from me?” You ask nervously.

He tilts his head. “Yeah. Thought you said you would text me when you got home.”

“Uh…yeah. Sorry. I guess I just forgot.”

The bell dings above the door to the ice cream parlor, Joel and Sarah emerging with a sundae piled with whipped cream. Jeremy looks toward them, then back at you.

“I’m guessing another date is off the table?” He asks, slipping his hands into his pants pockets.

Joel looks between the two of you, brow furrowed as he sets the sundae on the metal table and Sarah takes a seat, digging in immediately.

“Jeremy, this is Joel and his daughter, Sarah. She’s in my soccer camp this summer. Joel, this is my friend Jeremy,” you introduce. Jeremy holds a hand out to Joel, who shakes it briefly, brows still pinched.

“I better get going. Nice seeing you, let me know if you want to get together again,” Jeremy says before turning to leave. When you glance at Joel, his shoulders are drawn up and jaw clenched tight as he stabs his spoon into his ice cream.

“What do you guys have planned this weekend?” You ask to break the silence. Sarah perks up and begins to tell you about how her Uncle Tommy, Joel’s brother, is taking her to a local carnival. You listen and nod along despite the fact that your thoughts are stuck on Jeremy’s words.

If it wasn’t Jeremy on the other end of your conversation that night…who was it?

——————

As the three of you walk back to your vehicles, Joel’s still thinking about that man who’d been talking to you at the ice cream shop and how it made his blood burn hot to hear him mention going on a date with you. His pulse pounded in his ears as he shook the guy’s hand, any information about the guy going right over his head. He didn’t even taste the ice cream or hear the conversation you and Sarah had about the weekend, lost in his thoughts about how between early mornings helping you prep for camp and late afternoons at pick up have all somehow allowed you to burrow into his heart.

A hand wraps around his bicep, halting him in his steps. He glances at your concerned face and suddenly all that tension leaves him in a rush. Sarah says her goodbye, hugging you around your waist before hopping into the truck, leaving the two of you alone.

“You okay?” You ask, taking a step closer.

“I’m great, sweetheart. Get home safe,” he says, eyes dipping briefly to your mouth. Your tongue pokes out, tracing your lower lip. He takes a step back before he’s tempted to lean in and chase the taste of chocolate and you.

“I’ll see you Monday?”

“Bright and early.”

——————

Sarah spikes a fever Sunday night and spends the night curled around the toilet while Joel coaxes some water into her and keeps her hair out of harm's way. When it seems that the worst of her nausea has passed, Joel leaves her to rest in her bed while he goes downstairs and grabs the contact list you’d given him at the beginning of camp.

He starts a text, letting you know that Sarah’s sick and won’t make it to camp, at least for today. When it’s sent, he heads back upstairs, armed with a sleeve of crackers to deliver to his daughter.

Maybe he can squeeze in a little bit of sleep for himself.

——————

Hey, it’s Joel. Sarah’s sick and won’t make it to camp today.

You stare at the text, mind reeling. Not because a parent is texting you, that’s pretty common and you hope Sarah is doing okay, but because you already have a thread with Joel.

One where you’d called him sir and told him his cock would feel so good inside of you because you’d thought you’d been texting Jeremy. Your cheeks feel so hot you worry spontaneous human combustion could actually be a thing.

What are you even supposed to do in this situation? Do you tell him about it?

Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. Oh, also, you’ve sent me a picture of your dick.

You delete the last line immediately, hitting your phone against your forehead like doing so might make your thoughts make sense.

Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. Any chance you can make good on that promise and bend me over the bed?

You delete the last line again with a groan.

Hey, Joel. No worries. Thanks for letting me know, hope she feels better soon. There’s something I want to talk to you about. Would you be able to meet with me after practice this week? Or sometime this weekend?

You hit send before you can back out, tossing your phone in your bag as you get ready to head out the door.

——————

Joel wakes later in the morning and reads your text message. His mind races with what you could want to talk to him about. Maybe you noticed how he reacted to your friend and wanted to tell him you’re uncomfortable? Or maybe something to do with Sarah?

Fuck, he thinks, scrubbing a hand over his face. He reads the message a few more times but it doesn’t reveal any additional clues. He types out a message, pressing send before he can overthink the contents.

She seems to be doing better. Should be back to camp tomorrow. I can meet you somewhere for dinner on Friday after camp? My treat.

——————

Joel’s text plays on a loop in your brain for the rest of the week. Unlike the previous weeks of camp, he and Sarah don’t show up early. In fact, he’s been dropping her off almost at the last minute and picking her up promptly when camp ends, always managing to show up when you’re already pulled into conversation with another parent and driving off before you have a chance to talk with him.

On Friday, Joel is at the field early, leaning against his truck as he talks to Sarah. You park beside them, and he helps you unload your car and set up for the day, just as he had the weeks prior, making small talk like he hadn’t just spent the week dodging you after suggesting dinner. When everything is unpacked and Sarah is kicking a ball around, you follow Joel to his truck under the guise of needing one more thing from your car.

“Hey, are we still on for dinner?” You ask him. He runs a hand through his hair and you try not to let yourself zero in on the way his bicep flexes with the motion.

“‘Course. How ‘bout I meet you at that diner downtown? The one with the—“

“All day breakfast?” You finish. Joel grins.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Is six good?”

“Six is great.” You smile back at him, lost in the way his eyes crinkle in the corners and his mouth lifts slightly higher on the right.

“Coach!” Sarah yells, making you jump.

“Guess I better get out there,” you say, shifting nervously.

“Yeah, I’ll uh…I’ll see you later?” He asks.

“Looking forward to it.”

——————

To your surprise, it’s not Joel that picks up Sarah that afternoon, but another man with familiar brown eyes and dark curly hair. You grab your folder from your bag as Sarah greets the man, flipping through the pages until you’ve found her emergency contact form.

“Hey there,” the man says, a grin lighting up his face. “I’m Sarah’s Uncle Tommy.”

You shake the hand he’s held out towards you and introduce yourself. “Nice to meet you. Mind if I check your ID for alternate pick up?”

“Go right ahead,” he replies, pulling a worn brown leather wallet from his jeans and handing you his ID from its contents. “Don’t judge the photo, alright? It’s old.”

A younger version of the man in front of you is pictured on the card, his curly dark hair buzzed short and a grim expression on his face. You note the name THOMAS MILLER beside the picture and check it against Sarah’s emergency contact form.

“Thanks, Tommy,” you tell him, handing back the ID. There’s a brief silence where Tommy seems to be assessing you.

“So…,” he says, rocking on his heels, “you’re the girl that’s got Joel all tangled up, huh?”

You blink. “Uh—“

“Uncle Tommy! Let’s go!” Sarah shouts from the parking lot.

“Hold your horses!” Tommy yells. He gives you one last knowing smirk. “Have fun with Joel tonight!”

You watch him jog over to the truck and get behind the wheel, Sarah waving at you as he pulls out of the parking spot. You wave back, but your mind is stuck on Tommy’s words, the implication of them having your stomach doing backflips.

——————

Joel’s fingers fidget with the straw wrapper, ripping it into small pieces that build in a pile on the laminate table while he waits for you to arrive for dinner. He’s still not sure what this is all about and that uncertainty has had him stuck in his head to the point where Tommy was giving him a hard time at work about it.

“Let me know if you need me to stay with Sarah overnight,” Tommy had said as Joel checked himself in the hall mirror one last time before leaving the house.

“It ain’t like that,” he grumbled back, but there was no changing his brother’s mind.

“Sure, you keep tellin’ yourself that.”

The bell above the diner door rings with a new customer, pulling Joel from his thoughts. You’ve just walked in wearing a dress, a far cry from the soccer shorts and t-shirt he’s seen you in every day this summer. His gaze is pulled to the tantalizing glimpse of your chest he gets from the deep neckline and the way the fabric swishes against your thighs as you approach.

“Hi,” you say, sliding into the booth across from him. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Sure,” Joel says, giving you what he hopes is a confident smile but he’s almost certain it’s more of a grimace.

A silence settles over the table as you both look at the laminated menus like they hold the secret to the universe. The waitress swings by and takes your orders - chocolate chip waffles for you and a medium rare burger for Joel.

“How’s Sarah doing with the camp?” Joel asks.

“She’s doing great. Easily one of the best players I’ve got this year,” you reply.

“Good that’s…good. You used to play for UT, right?”

“Yep, starting forward until I tore my ACL,” you tell him. “Now I coach because you can take the girl out of soccer but you can’t take the soccer from the girl.”

“That’s impressive,” Joel comments. “Is coaching your full time job?”

“No, I work in marketing for an instrument production company.”

“Really? You play anything?”

“Some guitar, a little piano. Nothing crazy. Do you?”

Joel laughs. “Been a while, but I got a guitar stashed away in a closet somewhere.”

The waitress returns with your food, setting the plates in front of you and asking if either of you need anything else before leaving the two of you to your meals.

Joel is a few bites into his burger when you set your fork down and say, “Look, I’m just gonna come right out and say it. You’ve sent me a picture of your dick.”

Joel nearly chokes, sputtering for air around his burger and grabbing his Coke, desperate for relief. He chugs the beverage, tears in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” You ask, wide eyes full of concern.

“No, I’m not okay, what do you mean I’ve sent you a picture of my dick?” He hisses, looking around the mostly empty diner.

“About a month ago I went on a date with that guy I ran into at the ice cream place, Jeremy? We met on a dating app so we were messaging through there and he gave me his number at the end of the night,” you say quickly. “And I texted the number with some…racy photos. And messages.”

Joel feels the rising panic in his chest. No, there’s absolutely no way that random number could have been you. There’s no way he sexted his daughter’s soccer coach.

“I didn’t find out it was you until you texted me about Sarah being sick. I still had the chat with your number,” you finish, reaching into your bag and pulling out your phone. Joel watches with building dread as you tap on the screen and set the phone on the table, sliding it toward him.

You’ve opened the chat with him, the innocuous messages at the bottom about Sarah missing camp giving way to photo attachments he doesn’t dare click on but remembers vividly. He looks up at you.

“I…I’m so sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have replied, the messages weren’t meant for me.”

“I’m not mad,” you assure him. “A little embarrassed, maybe. But also…can I be completely honest?”

“Of course.”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your messages.”

Joel’s mouth drops open in surprise. “You…really?”

“Yeah. And knowing it’s you…,” you say, voice trailing off. Your eyes are dark, a little smirk playing on your lips that has Joel’s cock twitching with interest. “Well, that makes it better.”

“It does?” Joel asks. You nod, picking up a bite of waffle with your fork, a moan of appreciation leaving your lips.

“It does,” you confirm.

Joel turns around in the booth and flags down the waitress.

“Check, please!”

——————

After paying for dinner, Joel walks you to the parking lot, his broad palm on your low back directing you to where his truck is parked.

He’s got you pressed against the passenger door, his chest grazing yours with each breath he takes. He lifts a hand to your cheek, his thumb rubbing across your bottom lip. His gaze grows dark as you dart your tongue out, flicking it against the digit.

“Such a fuckin’ tease,” he says. Gone is the man who was mortified to find out he’d been sexting you and in his place is the man behind the screen. “You wore this little dress because you knew exactly what you wanted, isn’t that right?”

“Maybe,” you murmur. “You don’t like it?”

“Mm,” he hums, “Ain’t a matter of not likin’ it, trust me.”

His hands grip your hips, the fabric bunching in his fists as he moves a thigh between your legs. The sudden friction of his jeans, even through the barrier of your underwear, has you gasping.

“Joel,” you whimper, grinding over the muscle of his thigh. He kisses along the length of your neck, lips right over your racing pulse. “Come on, take me home.”

“You can ask more nicely than that,” he says, hands guiding the movement of your hips, forward and back, across his thigh. You moan, louder than you intended, too loud for the parking lot of a busy diner at dinner rush.

“Please, sir,” you whisper. “Please, take me home.”

“Cum on my thigh and we can leave,” he replies. “Leave a nice little wet spot on my jeans and then I’ll take you home and make you scream my name as loud as you need to.”

Joel’s lips capture your own, swallowing the curse that was ready to spill from them at his demand. His kiss is rough, demanding, his stubble scratching your skin and his tongue tangling with yours as your hips continue to rock over his leg. You dig your fingers into his hair, holding tightly to him while the knot of need in your belly tightens.

“Come on, baby,” he says when he lifts his head, lips still pressed to your neck. “Make a mess, come on.”

You go still in his hands as your orgasm washes over you, your muscles stiff as your pussy pulses desperately over his thigh. Joel pulls you in for another kiss, this one slow and sweet to bring you back to reality.

When you’ve caught your breath, he steps back, adjusting the skirt of your dress back over your thighs. He looks down at his pants and then back at you, a smirk on his handsome face. You look down, face heating with embarrassment as you notice the dark patch of denim.

“Get in the truck, baby.”

——————

You give Joel directions to your apartment, his warm hand on your thigh the whole way there. Your nerves are buzzing beneath your skin again, the effect of your first orgasm wearing off and your desire building rapidly with each mile closer to your apartment.

He parks in the visitor parking and you move to open the door, but a tan arm reaches across and tugs it shut. Confused, you watch Joel jump from the truck and jog around to the passenger side to pull open your door and hold a hand out to you.

You’re laughing as he helps you from the truck and shuts the door behind you, your giggles persisting as you lead him upstairs and his arms circle your waist while you try to unlock your door. He hustles you across the threshold, kicking the door shut behind him and flipping the deadbolt.

“Bedroom?” He asks.

“End of the hall,” you reply.

Joel pulls you along behind him, a man on a mission. Once inside your room, you flip on your bedside lamp and Joel steps in close, framing your face in his hands and giving you another kiss that has the butterflies in your tummy going wild.

His fingers are curling into the hem of your dress, dragging it up your body and breaking the kiss long enough to pull it over your head and toss it to the floor. His lips are back on yours while his hands map your curves, calloused fingers catching on soft skin and making goosebumps erupt in their wake.

“Get on the bed,” he commands. You turn, crawling onto the mattress slowly, a wiggle in your hips. You look over your shoulder at the older man and find his gaze fixed on your ass. He grins. “You remember what I said last time you teased me?”

“No. I think I need a reminder,” you tell him. He huffs, shaking his head.

“Teasin’ me and gettin’ mouthy? Think that might earn you a punishment.”

Joel palms the cheeks of your ass, pulling them apart in a rough grip that has you gasping his name. His fingers dig into the flesh, the ache of them already making your head spin.

“Five ain’t enough, but it’s all I’ve got the patience for right now,” he says. His tone changes as he asks, “You got a safe word? If I need to stop?”

“Apricots,” you say easily. He tilts his head. “It’s from a TV show. New Girl?”

“Never heard of it,” he says. “Alright, apricots it is.”

He pulls your panties down, leaving them around your thighs. His thumbs spread you apart and the vulnerability of this position, your ass in the air and everything spread for him, by him, has you feeling like you’re on fire.

“Pretty little pussy,” he murmurs. “But I already knew that. Because you’re a dirty fuckin’ girl who sent me pictures just because I told you how to cum. Ain’t that right?”

“Mhm.”

An open palm lands on your right ass cheek, hear blossoming on the spot as you gasp, lurching forward. His hands pull you towards him and he presses down between your shoulder blades, your back arching.

“Don’t move,” he commands. “That was one. You count the next one.”

Another smack across your other cheek, more sharp pain that shifts into dull ache as you mumble, “Two.”

He doles out two more in quick succession, each other making your pussy clench with need. You’re drooling into sheets, a whimpering mess as he runs his fingers through your soaked folds and lets out a deep groan.

“Baby, you’re soaked,” he says. “Fuck, one more, okay? One more and then I’ll have you wrapped around my cock.”

You nod your head, bracing for the final blow across your sensitive skin. The sting of his palm as it lands makes your eyes roll back, the line between pleasure and pain so blurry you don’t know which side you stand on.

His hands leave your hips and without the support, you slide flat to your belly. Distantly, you register the opening of your nightstand drawer and the sound of Joel rummaging through the contents, followed by the muted thump of clothes being discarded to the floor.

Joel maneuvers you to your back in the center of the bed, pulling your panties off. “You did so good, sweetheart,” he praises. You smile at him.

“Do I get a reward now, sir?” You ask.

“‘Course, baby. Good girls get what they deserve.”

His hips press between yours, his cock sliding through your wetness and catching on your clit. He positions the thick head at your slick entrance, pressing in the slightest bit. You take in the sight of him, his broad chest held over you by strong arms, the muscles of his neck tense.

Joel slides in slowly, your body accepting him gratefully. The stretch borders on painful but the fullness has you digging your nails into his back, a moan falling from your lips. It feels like ages before his hips as flush to yours and all you can feel is Joel Joel Joel.

“Fuck,” he groans, forehead dropping to yours. “Christ, you feel so fuckin’ good.”

He pulls back slightly, thrusting forward with a sharp snap of his hips. As he starts to set a rhythm, he sits up on his knees, lifting one of your legs up with a hand on the back of your thigh and pressing it to the side. The position opens you up further, letting him get impossibly deeper, and all you can do is allow him to use your body to his liking.

It’s not long before you’re screaming his name, as promised, the knot of pleasure in your core pulling tight and getting ready to snap.

“You gonna cum again for me?” Joel asks, breathing labored as his pace doesn’t falter. “Come on, baby, cum on my cock. You’re such a good fuckin’ girl, I know you can do it.”

“Joel!” You shout, that last thread snapping as your orgasm rushing through you, stars bursting behind your eyelids as they snap shut with the force of it all. Your pussy clenches around him, his hips stuttering and growing sloppy until he’s pressing in deep with a groan of your name.

He collapses on top of you, a heavy weight but not an unwelcome one as you both try to catch your breath, sweat cooling between you. After a moment, his softening cock slips from your body and he rolls to the side, gathering you to his chest.

“Holy shit,” you whisper.

“Yeah,” Joel whispers back. He sits up, leaning over the edge of the bed and grabbing his jeans, pulling his phone free.

He taps on the screen and brings it to his ear, a distant ringing audible through the speaker.

“Tommy? Yeah, everythin’s fine,” Joel says when his call connects. He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Could you stay with Sarah tonight? Shut up,” he grumbles. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll be back in the mornin’. Thanks, brother.”

Joel hangs up and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“You’re staying?” You ask.

“Yeah, baby. I ain’t finished with you yet,” he replies, pressing a flurry of kisses to your face, neck, and shoulders, sending you into a fit of giggles.

——————

1 Year Later

“Alright, great job, girls! Let’s get your snacks,” you shout as your summer league girls jog towards you from the field following their third tournament game.

The girls crowd around the cooler that Joel’s prepared, grabbing small bottles of Gatorade or water and a bag of orange slices. They lounge around the sidelines and you step up beside Joel, bumping him with your hip.

“Thanks for the snacks,” you say. He grins at you.

“‘Course. Gotta take care of my girls,” he replies. He pulls one last bag of oranges from the cooler. “And one for coach.”

“How’d I get so lucky?” You ask, looping an arm around his waist.

“What can I say? You texted the right wrong number.”

Joel Miller Masterlist

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #no use of y/n #joel x reader #pre outbreak!joel #no outbreak!joel miller

[rynwritesreid]

A night to remember-Spencer Reid

A/N: Okay, firstly thank you for all the love on mind-games, honestly I might post the next chapter next week but I am not sure. Also, for some reason even if you @ is correct and everything, some times tumblr won’t let me tag you :(

Summary: Spencer is back from prison, and he’s changed but not in all the ways you want. You discuss with Spencer something you’ve been wanting to try and he is willing to give it a shot.

Content: Post prison Spencer. Fem!reader. Mean dom spencer. Sub!reader. Pet names/name calling. Degrading kink. Overstimulation. Orgasm denial. Begging. Established relationship. Smut (and some fluff). Spencer asks a lot of time for your consent (as they should, especially if you are in BDSM dom/sub relationship). Begging. Sex toys. Virginal fingering. Handcuffs(slight bondage ig) 18+

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

It wasn’t a secret that prison, and the whole Cat Adams situation, had changed Spencer. It was evident in the way Spencer carried himself, the hardened glint in his eyes that pierced through the darkness. The weight of his experiences behind bars had etched lines on his face, transforming him into someone unrecognizable.

 

He seemed darker; he didn’t seem to mind having to kill in order to protect anymore. He had told you on several occasions that he would kill for you, well his exact words were; “you I’d kill for you. I mean if anyone ever tried to hurt you, I would make sure that’s the last ever thing they’d do.”

 

Though Spencer had always been protective, this was new, and while the rest of the team knew what he had been through recently had changed him, they had no idea just how much it had changed him.

 

Spencer had also changed how he was at home; he was no longer ‘vanilla’, but he wasn’t exactly rough. He treated you like a princess; he would not let you go to sleep until he had at least made you cum twice. And while you loved this, you wanted him to be rough with you, degrade you, to spank you and to deny you the pleasure he so often gives you.

 

But you didn’t know how to bring this up with him. You didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, or like he wasn’t good enough and that you weren’t enjoying what he was doing. However, you also knew nothing would change if you didn’t bring this up with him.

 

One evening, as Spencer cooked dinner for the both of them, you couldn't help but find the perfect opportunity to broach the subject. The room was filled with the aroma of his signature dish, a comforting reminder of the old Spencer, and you felt a pang of nostalgia.

 

As you sat across from him, you took a deep breath and began, "Spencer, I know things have changed since your time in prison, but I need to tell you something that's been on my mind."

 

He halted mid-stir, his knife-wielding hand trembling slightly. You could see the cogs turning behind his eyes, trying to process the implications of your words.

 

"I want to try something new in the bedroom. I want you to be rough with me, to dominate me, to make me feel as if I'm entirely under your control. I mean don’t get me wrong I enjoy what you do now, but I want this, I’ve wanted this for so long.”

 

Spencer set the knife down carefully on the cutting board, wiping his hand on his apron before turning to face you. The look of concern had faded, replaced by a hint of curiosity and intrigue. He had always been good at reading people; this was no different.

 

"Is that all?" he asked, eyebrows raised. "You want me to be rough with you? To dominate you?"

 

You nodded, glancing down at your own hands, fidgeting nervously in your lap. A sudden surge of heat filled your cheeks as you spoke, "Yes, Spencer. I want you to control me. I want you to take me in a way that I've never been taken before. I want to feel completely vulnerable and at your mercy.

 

It was a request he had never received before, but he saw the raw desire in your eyes. He could sense the urgency in your voice, and the hunger that was burning deep within you.

 

"Alright, but I need you to trust me," he said, taking a deep breath. "This will be different, and it might be intense."

 

You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. You had never felt this way before, this desperate need to be dominated, to give yourself completely to him. The thought of it made you shudder with excitement.

 

“Well, we can’t do anything now, we need to eat, so you just sit there and look pretty for the time been while I finish dinner, okay?” Spencer chuckled under his breath, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The look in your eyes told him that this wasn't just some fleeting desire, it was something that had been simmering deep within you for quite some time. He knew that he had to tread carefully, as this was uncharted territory for both of them.

 

Spencer continued to prepare the meal, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. He knew that he had to show you the intensity and control you craved without truly hurting you. He needed to make you trusted him completely, and only then could he truly take control.

 

As dinner was ready, Spencer dished up the meal and served it onto the plates. Sitting down, he took a moment to observe you. Your eyes were filled with a mixture of anticipation and a slight hint of trepidation. He knew you were scared, but he also knew that you trusted him enough to explore this new territory.

 

"You have my word," he said softly, looking directly into your eyes. "I'll take care of you, and I'll make sure you feel safe and cherished throughout this whole experience. But you have to trust me. Can you do that?"

 

You looked into his eyes, feeling a wave of relief wash over you at his promise. Trusting him was easy, you knew that. You trusted him with your life, and that was no small thing.

 

"Yes, Spencer," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "I trust you."

 

He smiled; relief evident in his expression. "Good," he said, taking your hand in his. "Then let's eat, and we'll talk about what this entails later."

 

As you ate, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within you. This wasn't just about trying something new; it was about exploring a side of your relationship that you had never dared too before. You knew it would be intense, but you trusted Spencer to guide you through it.

 

After dinner, you both sat on the couch, the dishes cleaned up and put away. Spencer turned to face you; his expression serious but gentle.

 

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubts.

 

You nodded, taking a deep breath. "I trust you, Spencer. I know you'll take care of me."

 

He smiled, reaching out to cup your face in his hands. "I won't let you down," he promised, his voice firm and reassuring.

 

With that, he leaned in and kissed you lightly, a tender touch that spoke of the trust and affection that had always been the foundation of your relationship.

 

You watched as he moved closer, his eyes never leaving yours. He kissed you again, this time with more passion, his lips lingering on yours. You could feel his hand gently brushing your hair off your face, his touch sending a shiver through your body.

 

"You're mine," he whispered, his voice low and intense.

 

You smiled up at him, your heart racing. This was it, the moment you had been waiting for. You knew that it would be intense, that it would test your limits, but you trusted him completely.

 

"I'm yours," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

 

Spencer slowly pulled away, his eyes never leaving yours. He traced his fingers along your jaw, his touch gentle but firm. He could feel the heat radiating from your skin, a testament to the desire that was coursing through you.

 

He stood up, towering over you, his body tense with anticipation. You could see the change in him, the alpha male dominance that had been dormant for so long beginning to surface.

 

"Are you sure about this?" he asked one last time, his voice deep and commanding.

 

You nodded, your heart racing. You were ready for this, ready to explore the darker side of your desires.

 

With that, Spencer reached down and grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet. He led you to the bedroom, the air thick with anticipation.

 

As you entered the bedroom, Spencer turned to face you, his eyes burning with intensity. He was no longer the gentle man you had known before, but a powerful and dominating presence that filled the room.

 

"Kneel," he commanded, his voice thick with desire.

 

You quickly obeyed, your heart pounding with excitement as you looked up at him. He stood over you, his muscles tense, his eyes fixed on your face.

 

"You're mine," he repeated, his voice a low growl. "And you will submit to me completely."

 

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. You were ready for this, ready to give yourself to him completely. He reached down and grabbed your wrist, pulling you to your feet.

 

"Take off your clothes," he ordered, his voice firm.

 

You did as he commanded, feeling a thrill of excitement as you stripped down to your underwear. He watched you intently, his eyes never leaving your body. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to take it.

 

He took a step forward, touching your skin for the first time. His fingers traced the curve of your hip, the soft skin of your stomach, and the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. You shivered, feeling a flood of pleasure course through your body.

 

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

 

His hands moved up to your breasts, cupping them in his large palms, kneading them gently. You moaned softly, your desire for him growing stronger by the second.

 

Spencer's lips met your neck, his tongue tracing the curve of your throat, and his teeth gently nipping at your skin. He moved down to one of your breasts, taking it into his mouth and sucking it gently. You arched your back, thrusting your chest out to meet his lips, and he took the other breast in his mouth as well.

 

He stood up, undressing himself as he did so. You watched, mesmerized, as his body revealed itself to you. He was everything you had imagined and more.

 

He stood in front of you, his erection hard and ready. You reached out to touch him, but he stopped you.

 

"No," he commanded, his voice firm. "I decide when you touch me.”

 

You looked up at him, your eyes pleading. You wanted so much to touch him, but you trusted him enough to follow his lead.

 

"Turn around," he commanded, his voice low and seductive.

 

You complied, your heart racing as you did so. You knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for, and you were ready to give yourself to him completely.

 

Spencer stood behind you, his hands resting gently on your hips. He leaned in and whispered in your ear, "You're mine, and I'm going to take you in ways you've never imagined before."

 

He slowly began to touch your skin, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip, the soft skin of your stomach, and the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. You shivered, feeling a flood of pleasure course through your body. His fingers moved up to your breasts, cupping them in his large palms, kneading them gently. You moaned softly, your desire for him growing stronger by the second.

 

Spencer's lips met your neck, his tongue tracing the curve of your throat, and his teeth gently nipping at your skin. He moved down to one of your breasts, taking it into his mouth and sucking it gently.

 

"You ready for this?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.

 

"Yes," you whispered, your voice shaking with anticipation.

 

As you spoke, you felt his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. His erection was now pressed against your back, a reminder of what was to come.

 

He guided you towards the bed, gently placing you down on the soft sheets. You could feel the anticipation building inside you, your heart pounding with excitement.

Spencer climbed on top of you, his body hovering above you. He looked into your eyes, his expression intense and full of desire.

 

"Are you sure about this?" he asked one last time, his voice deep and commanding.

 

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "I trust you," you whispered. "I'm yours."

 

With that, he leaned down and kissed you passionately, his lips crushing against yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring, and tasting you, as if to mark his territory.

 

You could feel his breath against your skin, hot and ragged, matched only by your own. His hips moved against yours, his erection pulsing with desire, and you knew that this was it. This was the moment you had been waiting for, the moment when you would give yourself completely to him.

 

He slowly pulled away, his eyes never leaving yours. He traced his fingers along your jaw, his touch gentle but firm. You could feel the tingle of his fingers on your skin, a reminder of the journey you were about to embark on.

 

He reached down and grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head. You felt the rush of dominance that flowed through him, a primal instinct that had been dormant for so long but was now fully alive.

 

"You're mine," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "And you will do as I say."

 

His eyes bored into yours, filled with a fierce intensity that made your heart race even faster. You could see the animalistic hunger in him, the raw desire that couldn't be contained any longer.

 

He leaned down and nipped at your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, causing you to moan in pleasure. You could feel the heat of his body against your own, and you knew that there was no turning back now.

 

Spencer's lips moved up to your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, "You're going to love this."

 

You felt his erection throbbing against your thigh, a reminder of what was to come. You were ready for this, ready to give yourself completely to him.

 

He slowly moved his hand down your body, trailing his fingers along your side until they reached your inner thigh. You could feel the heat and desire radiating from his body, and you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for.

 

As his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin near your core, you felt a surge of pleasure and arousal coursing through your body. You arched your back, pressing yourself against him, wanting more.

 

Spencer's hand continued to explore your body, moving lower and lower until he finally reached your most intimate place. He slowly slid one finger inside you, feeling the warmth and wetness that welcomed him.

 

You moaned softly, your body trembling with pleasure as his finger moved inside you. He pulled it out and brought it up to your lips, smearing your essence on them.

 

"Taste yourself," he commanded, his voice deep and authoritative.

 

You complied, licking his finger clean, savouring the taste of your own desire. It only fuelled your desire for him even more.

 

"You taste delicious, don’t you," Spencer whispered, his eyes burning with desire.

 

With his other hand, he slowly pulled your legs apart, spreading them wide open for him. You could feel the heat between your legs growing, and you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for.

 

As his fingers continued to explore your body, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you like a tidal wave. You knew that you were completely at his mercy and that he was going to take you to places you never thought possible.

 

Spencer's hand continued to move between your legs, teasing and taunting you with its every touch. You were more than ready for him, your body trembling with anticipation, and yet he seemed to want to savour this moment.

 

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your breath coming quicker and quicker as you felt his fingers slowly enter you again. This time, he didn't stop, pulling out and plunging back in, faster and harder with each thrust.

 

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice ragged with desire. "I want you so bad."

 

You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, throbbing with need, and you wanted nothing more than to feel him inside you.

 

"I'm going to make you scream my name," Spencer promised, his voice low and sultry.

 

As he continued to thrust into you, his fingers moving in and out of you in a rhythm that was both maddening and intoxicating, you couldn't help but moan softly, your body arching in response to his touch. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your desire for him growing stronger with each passing second.

 

“You look so beautiful like this, surrendering yourself to me, letting me make you moan like the slut you really are.” He whispered; his voice filled with lust.

 

Your body trembled in response, your arousal increasing with every word. You knew that you were completely at his mercy, and you loved every moment of it.

 

Spencer's fingers continued to move inside you, pulsing rhythmically with his thrusts. You could feel his erection growing harder and thicker against your thigh, and you knew that he was close.

 

"I want to hear you scream," Spencer hissed.

 

Just as you were about cum, he pulled a way, a small smirk on his face.

 

“Did you think I was going to let you cum that easily?” he asked, his voice filled with amusement.

 

You gasped, your body flush with disappointment but also anticipation. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, and it was thrilling.

 

Spencer leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'm going to make you beg for it," he whispered, “and remember when you are begging for it, you asked for this, you wanted this.”

 

He slowly put his fingers back in you, but his pace no longer fast, it was slow, and it was deliberate.

 

"Please, Spencer," you whimpered, your body craving the release that he was denying you.

 

“Is that all you’ve got baby? And is this all it’s taken me?” he taunted, his lips still brushing against your ear. "You're going to have to do better than that, little one."

 

His fingers moved in and out of you, teasing your most sensitive spot, and you knew that he was going to make you beg for it. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your body trembling with the need to cum.

 

And just like before he stopped, he wasn’t going to give in even though it was killing him not too. Your eyes were pleading with him, begging him to continue, but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen.

 

“Now if I remember correctly, you brought toys to replace me while I was gone, didn’t you?” he smirked, his eyes locked on yours, “I think it’s time to put them to use.”

Spencer’s eyes were scanning the room, trying to see where you might have put them, he knew it wouldn’t have been in any of the normal places. That’s when his eyes landed on the wardrobe, and he looked back at you.

 

“I can see that look in your eyes, baby. You’re so desperate for it, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and seductive. “Now did you hide them in there, princess?”

 

You nod yes, unable to form any more words as you feel a surge of anticipation and desire.

 

Spencer walks over to the wardrobe and opens it, revealing a small collection of sex toys that you had purchased while he was away. He grabs a vibrator and a pair of handcuffs, his eyes never leaving yours.

 

"I knew you couldn't resist," he smirks, his voice filled with victory. "Now, let's see how much you can take, shall we?"

 

He walks back over to you, the vibrator in his hand, and secures your hands above your head with the handcuffs. You struggle slightly, but the desire coursing through you is too intense to resist.

 

You watch as Spencer approaches you, his eyes burning with hunger. He runs the tip of the vibrator along your sensitive skin, teasing you mercilessly.

 

"This is going to feel so good, baby," he whispers, his voice thick with desire. His tone is commanding, and you have no choice but to obey.

 

He turns on the vibrator and presses it against your clit, and you let out a soft moan. The sensation is intense, and you can feel your body responding to it.

 

"That's it, baby," Spencer encourages. "You're so wet, so ready for me."

 

He pushes the vibrator inside you, and you feel it pulsate against your inner walls. "Take it all, you slut."

 

Your eyes roll back as the sensation overwhelms you, and you let out a loud moan of pleasure. Spencer smiles slyly, watching as you lose control.

 

"There's my good girl," he purrs. "You're such a dirty little slut."

 

He increases the speed of the vibrator, and you arch your back, trying to get closer to the pleasure. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer, your body trembling with each pulse of the vibrator.

 

"Please," you whimper, your voice barely a whisper. "Don't stop."

 

Spencer grins, his eyes locked on yours. "Not yet baby. I want to see you beg for it."

 

He pulls the vibrator out of you and turns it off, leaving you desperate for more. You look at him in desperation, your pupils dilated, your breathing ragged.

 

"Please, Spencer," you beg, your voice shaking with need. "Please, I need it so badly."

 

He smirks at your desperation, his eyes never leaving yours. "You want it?”

 

With a sly grin, he takes the vibrator and runs it along your outer lips, teasing you mercilessly. You can't help but moan softly, your body arching towards him in response.

 

"Beg for it, baby," he commands, his voice a mix of desire and amusement. "Tell me how much you need it."

 

Your breath hitches in your throat, your desire for him growing stronger with each passing second. "I need it so badly, Spencer. Please, I'm begging you."

 

He chuckles softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's my good girl. You know exactly what you want."

 

And with that, he pressed the vibrator back inside you, and you let out a loud moan of pleasure. It felt amazing, better than anything you had ever experienced before. He continued to tease you with the vibrator, moving it in and out of you, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

 

"Please, Spencer," you pleaded, your voice shaking with need. "Please let me cum. Please make me cum."

 

He smirked at your desperation; his eyes locked on yours. "You're going to have to beg for it, my dear," he said, his voice low and sultry.

 

But you didn't care. You needed this. You needed him. And so, you let out a desperate moan, your body trembling with the need to cum. "Please, Spencer," you pleaded, "I need it so badly. Please make me cum.”

 

You were past the point of no return, Spencer's commands and denial only adding fuel to the fire. Your body was on fire, desperately craving the release he was denying you. You knew you could take it no longer, and yet, you found yourself begging for more.

 

"Please, Spencer," you moaned, your voice pleading. "Let me cum."

 

He chuckled, a wicked glimmer in his eyes. "Not yet baby. I want to draw this out," he said, running the vibrator over your clit, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

 

"Please, Spencer," you begged, your voice hoarse. "I need it so badly."

 

He smirked, a devilish look on his face. "But you're forgetting something, you asked for this. You wanted to be treated like a slut, but now you’re begging for me to make you cum?”

 

You knew you needed to beg for it. You needed to surrender to him, to let him have control over your body, your mind, your very being.

 

"Please, Spencer," you whimpered, "please make me cum. Please, I can't take it anymore.”

 

He took the vibrator and ran it along your outer lips, teasing you mercilessly. You could feel the pulsating sensation building up inside you, your body arching towards him in response.

 

"Please, Spencer," you begged. "I need it so badly."

 

He chuckled; his eyes locked on yours. "You really are a dirty slut, aren't you?"

 

You nodded, your mind reeling with the intensity of the experience. Spencer did take some pity on you; he could see your eyes were filling with tears and he did love to watch you cum.

 

"That's it, baby," he whispered, his voice full of desire. "Beg for it, let me hear how much you need it."

 

You choked out the words, your voice rough with need. "Please, Spencer. Please make me cum. I need it so badly."

 

He smirked, his eyes never leaving yours. "Well, aren't you the perfect slut?"

 

With that, he turned on the vibrator and ran it over your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You arched your back, your hips bucking against the vibrator.

 

"That's it, baby," he urged, his voice filled with command. “Cum for me, letting me see what I can do to you.”

 

And with that, you felt the orgasm building up inside you, closer and closer until you couldn't take it anymore. You let out a loud moan of pleasure, feeling the waves rush through your body as you finally succumbed to the desire that had been building up inside you.

 

"That's it, baby," Spencer said, his voice filled with triumph. "You're mine, every bit of you, and you'll never forget this moment."

 

You lay there, panting and sweating, feeling completely spent. Your body was trembling, your mind was still reeling from the sensations you had just experienced. You felt like you had been pushed to the limit and beyond, but you also knew that you had never felt more alive.

 

As you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm, you couldn't help but feel a sense of submission, a feeling of being completely under Spencer's control. You knew that you had begged for it, and you had enjoyed every moment of it.

 

Spencer leaned down and kissed your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. "That was incredible, baby. You'll always be my dirty little slut."

 

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of pride in the role you had played in this scene. You knew that you had given him exactly what he wanted, and that feeling of power was exhilarating.

 

“Now I am going to go get some water, because that was intense.” You watched as Spencer got up to go get some water, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for him.

 

You knew that Spencer was also going to need so aftercare, because that was his first time doing something like this, but you also knew you were going to have to drink before you could do anything.

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[blueshirtjamie]

"Slut!" // J. Hughes

In which Jack and the reader decide to go public with their blossoming relationship, only to discover that the internet can be a cruel place. Is all of it really worth it? (Inspired by the masterpiece of a vault track Taylor gave us.)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, insults (the title is slut after all), not proofread so please pardon any small errors!

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: I honestly don't know Jack's personality very well so hopefully I did an okay job of characterizing him. I hope you enjoy this! My requests are always open :)

_____________________________________________

Everyone wants him, that was my crime

You had been dating New Jersey’s star young forward, Jack Hughes, for some time now– but it was a complete secret. Jack was one of the NHL’s biggest names because of his insane talent on the ice. And, much to your chagrin, he was also one of the most crushed-on players in the league. His ocean-blue eyes and sweet smile charmed anyone who laid eyes on him, and you were so afraid of what people would say if they found out that you two were an item. New Jersey Devils fans, and Jack Hughes fans in particular, were nothing if not protective and could be so mean online. You liked Jack a lot–you two had so much fun together, always laughing and doing fun things, and you didn’t want the world to break you two apart. You were afraid to share Jack, something you had shared with him from the start of your relationship. The Tweets, Tumblr posts, and Instagram accounts dedicated to your boy ignited a jealous and protective streak in you, but it was the price you’d have to pay to stay with Jack– and one you’d pay willingly. 

Aquamarine, moonlit swimmin' pool// What if all I need is you?

“I think we should go public soon, babe,” Jack said one night as you two were taking a late-night dip in your backyard pool. You swam over to him and put your arms around his neck, planting a small kiss on his lips. 

“ I don’t know, Jack,” you said. “I’m just so scared of what people will say. What if all I need is you? No one else’s opinions and validation, just my boy?” You gave him a small smile. 

“I know you’re scared, baby,” he replied. “But I want to show you off to the world. Everyone deserves to see my pretty girl and learn all about you and your kind heart.”

You blushed, and a sigh escaped you. 

“Okay,” you conceded. “If you’re sure, J, then I trust you.” 

Jack smiled, pulling you in for a long, slow kiss. The kind that made your stomach flutter and your heart melt. 

Got love-struck, went straight to my head// Got lovesick all over my bed

The moonlit swim replayed in your head as you two lay in bed that night. Jack had been sound asleep next to you, softly snoring, for a while now. You, on the other hand, were wide awake, your mind racing. “I want to show you off to the world,” you heard on loop. The sweet facial expression Jack gave you as you said it. The soft kiss that had quickly heated up. God, you loved kissing Jack, and with each kiss, you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper for him. Each sweet word from his pretty lips intensified your feelings. There was no denying it— you were falling in love with Jack Hughes, and he was right. It was time for the world to finally know. 

The next morning, you sat next to Jack in bed as he scrolled through photos of you guys, trying to find the perfect few to post on his Instagram. Finally, you settled on three– a shot of you two post-game, one with the city skyline in the background, and a selfie of you kissing his cheek. Your heart pounded as Jack typed out the caption: “my whole heart ❤️”. He pressed “post” and you took a deep breath. 

“I could throw up,” you said, curling into Jack’s side. He held you close, placing a gentle kiss on your head. 

“Everyone is gonna love you, babe, I don’t know how they couldn’t.” 

And I break down, then he's pullin' me in// In a world of boys, he's a gentleman

As it turns out, the internet was a cruel place, and not everyone loved you. While the comments on Jack’s post were mostly positive, especially the ones from teammates and other players, others were not so nice. The words “slut”, “puck bunny”, “clout chaser”, and “bitch” floated around a lot, and so you found yourself doom scrolling through social media, reading every comment you could find. Your photos were reposted time and time again on various accounts, and it was overwhelming. Tears welled in your eyes and you tried hard to hold them back, but you were unsuccessful. Once they started falling, they just wouldn’t stop. Jack walked around the corner into your bedroom to find you a sobbing mess. He took your phone from your hands, powered it off, and took both of your hands in his. 

“We’re done with that for today, okay?” he said gently. He pulled back the covers on your bed and helped you get in before getting in himself, pulling your body into his. 

“They’re being so mean, Jack,” you said between sobs. “I knew it was a bad idea, I knew it!” 

Jack shushed you gently, wiping your tears with his thumb. 

“Those people don’t matter, love. What matters is that you’re mine, and I’m going to protect you like my life depends on it. You and me, that’s all that matters, okay?”

You nodded as a sob racked through your body. Jack held you like that, whispering reassurances and stroking your hair until you calmed down, your breathing becoming more even and your cries fading out. He handed you a box of tissues from the nightstand and smiled at you as you dabbed at your eyes and blew your nose. 

“I’m sorry baby,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Jack cupped your face with both of his hands, looking you in your eyes. 

“Hey, there’s nothing to apologize for, baby,” he said. “At some point, you get used to any kind of comments about you and block them out. I forgot that not everyone can ignore it like I’ve learned to. I’m gonna protect you, okay? I mean it. I will tell you time and time again how amazing you are, and I’ll make sure they know it too.” He kissed you gently, and you melted into him. 

I said, "It might blow up in your pretty face"// I'm not sayin', "Do it anyway"// But you're going to

After an afternoon spent snuggling up to Jack and watching movies, you were calm, and the comments had drifted from your mind. Let them talk, you thought. As long as I have my boy, that’s all that matters. 

“Let’s go out tonight,” Jack said, looking at you, his face lit up in excitement. 

“Jack…” you started, an air of uncertainty in your voice. 

“No, I mean it. Let’s go out and be seen, show people that their comments don’t matter in the slightest. Let’s go have fun and get your mind off things, ya know?”

You sighed deeply, contemplating. You could dress up, go out, and have some fun with your boy, or you could stay in bed and sulk. Okay, you thought. Let’s do this. 

“Okay,” you said, looking at Jack and smiling. “But if it blows up in your pretty face, don’t say I didn’t warn you, babe.”

His elation visibly grew as his smile widened. 

“Okay!” He said, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “Let’s get ready, then.”

But if I’m all dressed up, they might as well be lookin' at us// And if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once// And if I'm gonna be drunk, I might as well be drunk in love

So there you were, dressed in a sexy little black dress that hugged your curves and showed off your best assets, your hair and makeup done up. You felt confident, you felt strong, you felt… hot. Jack agreed, whistling at you as you rounded the corner and stepped into his view. 

“Wow, babe,” he said, taking you in. “You are absolutely stunning. I can’t wait to show my girl off,” he smiled, taking your hand and spinning you in a small circle. He pulled you in then, both his hands on your waist, and gave you a long, slow kiss. You melted into him and deepened the kiss. After pulling away, you took in the sight of Jack. Black pants and blazer paired with a crisp white button-down and black tie, hair mussed up in just the right way that you loved on him. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you smiled, meeting his eyes with your own. He smiled back, that charming, bright smile that gave you butterflies every time. 

“Ready to go?” he asked. You nodded confidently. 

“We look so good,” you said. “They might as well be looking at us, right?” 

Jack laughed. “That’s my girl.”

The bar was busy on a Friday night, as was expected, so you two were able to grab a drink inconspicuously, blending into the crowd. Jack kept a hand around your waist the entire time, gently guiding you through the sea of people drinking, mingling, and dancing. You two found a table to stand at and people-watched, chatting and laughing together. It felt good to be out, to be dressed up, to feel confident. Your conversation was soon interrupted by a man, clearly already a few drinks in.

“Oh my god,” he shouted over the music. “Jack Hughes!” 

He clapped a firm hand on Jack’s back. 

“Can I take a picture with you?” he asked, more as a warning, as his phone quickly obscured Jack’s face as he leaned in for a selfie. 

Just as soon as he arrived, he was gone. 

“So it begins,” Jack said, a tone of annoyance in his voice. “I bet that picture is already on Twitter.” 

He took his phone out to check social media, and you leaned close to him, peering over his shoulder. He placed a hand on your lower back, scrolling through his mentions with the other hand. Sure enough– a grainy, dimly lit photo of you two in candid conversation had been posted by a hockey “news” account. 

Jack Hughes spotted with his new girlfriend at a Newark bar! (via @jacklukequinn)

Somehow, this didn’t bother you at all. If you were gonna dress up, they should be looking at you. You two were a hot couple, and the world deserved to see. If they called you a slut, or a puck bunny, or a clout chaser, so what? It was worth it. You had Jack– what they all wanted– so it was worth it. You had the boy who melted your heart with his charming smile, made you feel beautiful with his kind compliments, and kissed you like no one else ever had. If you were gonna get drunk, you might as well be drunk in love, too. You took Jack’s hand, looking him in his eyes. 

“Come on baby, I wanna dance,” you said, a smile creeping onto your face. 

Takin’ your time in the tangerine neon light, this is luxury// You're not sayin' you're in love with me// But you're goin' to

You led Jack to the dance floor, throwing your arms around his neck as he placed his hands on your hips. You swayed them to the beat, moving as close to him as you could be. The world around you faded– the words, the people, the thoughts, the insecurity, all fading away as you danced and the alcohol set in. It was just you and Jack, the neon lights of the bar casting his face in a tangerine glow. He looked at you lovingly, his eyes soft and his smile sweet. You laughed, pulling him close to place a kiss on his delicious lips. This, this right here was all you needed. All that mattered. Just you and Jack, falling in love. If they called you a slut, it truly might be worth it for once.

#hayleywriteshockey #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #new jersey devils

[deanscherrypie69]

Did it mean something? D.W𖧷

♡Dean Winchester X Female Reader♡

♡Warnings: Mentions of kissing, and language no use of Y/n. 18+ pls minors DNI!!!!!♡ please do not post my fics anywhere else expect tumblr, you have been warned!

♡Feedback is appreciated! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!!!!♡

♡Depending how this does I’ll post a part two!♡

♡My inbox is open for anything! (It will be open for requests soon!)♡

It had been a few days after Sam went to hell. Dean had lost his brother and you had lost your best friend that day. It was hard on you both. You didn't talk about it.

You both had been pushing your feelings down, about the whole situation, too scared to open up. Since Sam had been gone you and Dean had been hunting nonstop. It had been an easier way to cope with everything. Just pretending that everything was fine when it wasn't.

You And Dean had just finished vamp hunt and he offered to get food for you both.

After the hunt It had been raining like cats and dogs, you had been stuck in the hotel room trying to get a signal on the tv. "Come on!" You scream hitting the sides of the tv, it had been going out since the storm started, you sigh and run you hand across your face, when you were met with black and white static.

"Piece of shit-" You mutter kicking the bottom of the tv stand. You huff and sit on the edge of one of the motel beds.

You and Dean had been laying low for the past couple of days. You didn't hear from Bobby nor cas. You flop back onto the bed with a groan.

That was until the motel door swung open causing you to look over.

"Still nothing?" Dean questions throwing a white fastfood bag onto the little table in the kitchen.

"Nope." You say still looking at the ceiling.

You hear shuffling for a second, then you see the green eyed hunter standing over you with something wrapped in tinfoil. "Eat." He says placing it next to you.

You quickly sit up and grab the burger. You watch as Dean sits on the bed opposite bed across from you, he begins to unwrap the burger he had gotten both of you.

You watch as he bites into it, but you also noticed his wet hair. You watch him take two bites before looking in your direction.

Dean stops chewing the food in his mouth, "What?" He questions when he catches you stare at him.

"Nothing." You say.

Dean mumbles an 'ok' and continues to eat.

For some guy who had lost his brother he seems to be doing just fine. You get up from the bed, and walk into the kitchen, pulling out the chair you pull back the motel curtain, you stare out the window and watch the rain fall.

You missed Sam, he was your besfriend - besides Dean you thought, you and Dean were never really close it upset you, he never really talked to you about anything besides Sam. When you entered the room he'd go quite.

You never understood why.

You had been staring out the window for too long to notice the green eyed hunter sitting across from you.

"You really should eat."

His voice rumbles through your body. "I'm good." You say looking from the window and to the man that had been sitting across from you for god knows how long.

Dean sighs and leans back in the chair.

"You okay Dean?" You Hum crossing your arms over your chest.

"As good as i can be." He huffs through his nose, "I could ask you the same thing, I know loosing your bestfriend is hard." He says.

You roll your eyes, "He's your brother Dean."

Dean leans forward on the table his arms resting against the table. He nods his head, "We'll get him back." Dean says taking a deep breath, "We always do." He gets up from the table tapping his knuckles against the wood.

You notice the bruises that sit upon his knuckles, they were purple. He had gotten them trying to fight of a vampire, to save you.

"Sorry about that." You swallow, your eyes still focused on the purple.

Dean follows your gaze.

"Its nothing, happens." He says walking over to the fridge, he opens it pulling out two beers. He holds one up, He knew you weren't very much of a drinker. You hated beer. But why the hell not, right?

You get up from your chair and make your way over to Dean where he was leaning against the counter. He flicks the bottle top off and plops it in the sink behind him.

You copy his motion, you step beside him and plop the top into the sink.

You bring the bottle up to your lips, the bitter liquid runs down your throat. pullinging the bottle away, you notice Dean's eyes on yours.

"What?" You hiccup.

"Nothing," He says bringing the glass bottle up to his lips.

You begin to fidgit with the bottle, you were still facing the sink, staring down at the two bottle tops in the sink. "Do you ever think about it?" You hum.

Dean turns his head in confusion, "Think about..? he questions, you noticed the confusion in his voice.

You take a deep breath, "Getting out, hunting. And living a normal life."

Dean stares down at his bottle, "All the time." Dean sighs.

He had called one of his lovers, Lisa hoping to rekindle something with her now that Sam was gone, she said yes. Dean was supposed to leave by morning.

But Dean didn't know if he wanted too, it would leave you alone and he knew that you were counting on him to be there.

You sigh.

You could see Dean shifing in his spot. What was he thinking about you wonder?

You place the beer bottle down on the counter, making your way over to the bed. The staic looking on the tv fills your ears.

"Do you think about it?" Dean asks putting his bottle next to yours. He strieds over to the bed and sits next to you.

Talking a shaky breath, you turn to face the green eyed man. "No." Dean watches you fiddle with your fingers, as he waits for you to contiue, "I never saw myself settling down, or getting out of this life, it's not for me. This is my life. There's no changing that."

Dean nods at your words.

You look up to find the man looking at you. His eyes searching your face, going back and forth between your eyes and lips.

It all happened to fast, Dean's lips on yours you his on his shirt, urging him to take it off.

This was wrong, you thought. You never felt this way about him. He was so mysterious, he never let you in on anything that happened to him, it was always Sam filling you in.

You both could barely be in a room together without one of you leaving because of the awkwardness.

But maybe it was Dean putting up a guard to try and protect you. He knew you didn't belong in this life, hunting and killing things. It just wasn't right for you.

You're different you aren't like him or Sam. And that's what Dean liked.

You were bought out of your thoughts when Dean nipped your ear causing you to squeal. "everything okay?" Dean questions looking up. You were straddling him.

His lips were pink and swollen from the kissing.

You quickly nod and grab his face, pressing your lips against his.

- - You had been woken up by a pounding on the door, you shoot up out of the bed, your eyes still trying to adjust from the light that was coming through the window.

You quickly pull the covers from your body, cold air hits your skin, you were naked. "Shit." You mumble, the pouding on the door didn't stop.

You looking over on the side of your bed where you were hoping to find Dean but he was gone. A bad feeling washed over you when you slide you t-shirt over your head.

You smelt him everywhere. In your skin in your hair. He was everywhere but no where all at once.

Putting the last leg into your jean's you fling open the door.

You were met with an old lady and a cleaning cart, "Room service!" She smiles, squeezing past you with her cart. You close the door behind you.

You quickly rush over to the bathrrom, maybe he'd just been in there, but you were met with a dark room. His duffle bag was gone. You swallow hard.

You walk back into the kitchen to find the beer bottles still sitting on the counter. Everything was gone, he was gone.

Tears form in your eyes. You grab your socks and shoes, and your coat that had been on the back of the chair in the kitchen chair.

You do a quick run through of the room to make sure you weren't missing anything.

Turing your head over your shoulder you had noticed the tv wasn't static anymore, an episode of 'Dr sexy' Was playing on the screen.

The cleaning lady had made her way over to the kitchen area, throwing away the bottles you and Dean had drank out of earlier.

You sigh and fish the hotel key out of your pocket before setting it down on the table.

You shut the door of the motel behind you, you fish out your phone and scroll through your contacts.

You click on the name before letting it ring a few times.

"Hey Bobby, care to give a girl a lift?"

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x you #dean winchester fic #supernatural dean #dean x reader #dean winchester #sam and dean #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural fic #spn one shot #spn fanfic

[papercorgiworld]

Toxicity

The dark lord’s favourite always gets what she wants

You use your influence with the dark lord to get a certain someone to behave.

Theo Nott and Mattheo Riddle imagine

Warning: toxic reader, crucio, bit angsty? and suggestiveness

Quick post forecast: today, we’ve got toxic Thursday with Theo and Matt, tomorrow it’s flirty Friday with Enzo and if all goes well we’ll have a smutty Saturday.

Tumblr wouldn’t let me insert the pictures in text, which makes me so sad. 🥺 Sorry, you’ll have to scroll down, I hope I can fix it later… Fixed it!!!! anyways happy readings!

Requested part 2

Theodore Nott

The dark lord smiled with genuine admiration for your work as you handed him Merlin’s spell book. “I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me, you never do. Like your parents you know what loyalty means.” You nod and he continues. “If there’s anything I can do to show my gratitude, please let me know.” You shake no, pretending like you didn’t already have something in mind when you entered his office.

After a few seconds you speak up. “Actually, there might be something, a little annoying matter that I can’t seem to manage myself.” His silence is his way of telling you to state your wish. “There’s a guy in my year, he never shows me any respect. Belittles me all the time. Yesterday, he even stole from me. I can’t do anything about it, Dumbledore doesn’t allow students to curse one another.”

The dark lord circles around you, listening attentively. He already has his suspicions, but nevertheless asks: “His name?” You meet Tom Riddle's eyes. “Theodore Nott.”

Without warning he points his wand to the door and it slams open. “Theodore, join us.” Every hair on Theo’s body raises as soon as he hears his name, but calmly follows orders. Theo’s eyes immediately land on you and a scowl forms on his face, this can’t be good. “I’ve been told your behavior isn’t what it should be.” Theodore’s eyes darken. “Whatever she said is a lie.” The dark lord snaps his head at Theo, not pleased with how he talks about his favorite. “Crucio!” Your eyes widen as Theodore falls to his knees, reaching for a nearby table to keep himself from fully collapsing. “I think his behavior will now drastically improve.” You nod and the dark lord turns towards Theodore. “Return what you stole and don’t leave this room until you’re forgiven.”

As soon as you and Theo are alone he looks up at you with hatred. “You are vile.” You simply grin. “If I were you I would change your tone and maybe throw in a few compliments.” Theodore pulls his eyes away from you. You were probably right. His orders were clear, you had to leave this room happy or whatever was waiting for him would be worse than the curse he had already suffered.

Now that he’s standing again you slowly walk towards him and he quietly stares at you bottling up his anger. “I want my essay back.” You demand. He huffs, but you quirk an eyebrow reminding him to behave. Theo takes a deep breath as he surrenders and reaches for the inside pocket of his jacket. “Here’s the essay you wrote based on my idea.” He offers you the paper and a content smirk tugs on your lips. Theo turns around, pleased to be done with you, but you grab his arm pulling him back.

“You aren’t forgiven yet.” You remind him. “How about you start with a little ‘I’m sorry’.” You suggest, making him close the distance between you two and tower over you. You try to hide the fact that you’re a little intimidated and bravely look him in the eyes. “I won’t apologize.” You lick your lips patiently. “I’m not responsible for what happens to you if you leave this room unforgiven. The dark lord might see you as an unloyal freeloader who only follows orders when it fits him.” Theodore balls his fists as his frustration with you peaks. You want to say something more, but Theo won’t let you. He forcefully grabs your chin and pushes you against the desk behind you. “I won’t apologize to you.” The boiling hate in his voice is undeniable and honestly you don’t blame him. He started playing games with you without knowing how dirty you play and now his ego’s was taking some serious damage. You speak through gritted teeth as Theo’s hold on your chin stays. “If you aren’t going to use that mouth of yours for apologizing, you better put it to good use elsewhere.”

Theodore jaw clenches and he stares at you debating his options, but you know him better than he knows himselfs. Your core is aching for what is to come. “Fine.” Theo spits as he surrenders to your will, but not without being an arrogant ass about it. With one harsh move he spreads your legs and you grip the desk behind you for support. Your smug grin is irresistible to Theodore, but he’ll never let you know how turned on he gets so he keeps his eyes dark as he slides down on you.

Mattheo Riddle

You are part of the Slytherin friend group but you know that Mattheo isn’t too fond of you. He’s always ridiculing you for something stupid. It was like his hobby was getting on your nerves. However, you’ve had enough of it and tonight his attitude was going to change. You had managed to get your hands on Merlin’s spell book before Mattheo and were currently handing it over to a very pleased Tom Riddle.

“Your extraordinary effort for our cause is admirable and doesn’t go unnoticed by me.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, but kept quiet as he sat at a table with the Malfoys. The dark lord wrapped his arm around you pulling you into a cold but appreciative hug, while whispering. “Anything you wish, my dear?” You look over at Mattheo, but as soon as your eyes meet he looks away and you can’t help but smirk. Softly you whisper something to Tom, making Mattheo look back up with anxious eyes. “Unappreciative, you say?” You nod. “And disrespectful.” You add and the dark lord seems to get more agitated. With a dramatic calmness he points his wand at the table, making everyone’s face flash with terror.

Suddenly, the quiet room is interrupted by a loud smack as Mattheo’s face is forced against the table by a spell. The emotional pain is just as visible as the blood dripping from his nose. With fuming rage and yet a stern calmness his father makes his way to the table, while every other person looks down in an attempt to hide their fear. The dark lord grabs Mattheo’s face forcing him to make eye contact. “You do not mistreat my dear (y/n). She’s loyal. A woman like her should be appreciated and pampered. From now on you’ll be good to her. Understood?”

The grip on his face is too strong for Mattheo to properly nod, but his eyes tell his father everything he needs to know. Mattheo will comply with everything the dark lord demands. When Tom releases Mattheo he looks up at you and you sincerely bow to show your gratitude and respect, thereby affirming your spot as favorite.

After the world’s most uncomfortable meeting you’re pleased to wander the hallways in solitude. You spot Mattheo cleaning his face through the half opened bathroom door and you stop to watch him. When your eyes lock in the reflection of the mirror his whole body tenses, but this doesn’t stop him from giving you a scowl. This makes your pity for him ebb away. You take a few confident strides and join him, taking the cloth from him to clean his face. “He could’ve done worse.” Your words just make him scoff. “Is my pain and humiliation not enough amusement for you?” He grabs your hand telling you to stop, you try but fail to get out of his grip and his attitude starts to frustrate you. “Stop whining, Riddle, and let go of me or I’ll go crying to your dad again.” Mattheo’s jaw clenches, but he reluctantly releases your hand allowing you to clean and heal him.

After you’ve fixed him up you both make your way back to the other guests. When you enter the room Mattheo is quick to leave you a few steps behind, searching for his friends, but one disappointed and contemptible look from his father makes Mattheo instantly turn back towards you. To your surprise he’s quick to snake an arm around you. You glare at Mattheo for being so obvious about only being nice to you to save himself. “I’m not feeling really appreciated.” Mattheo rolls his eyes at your words, while leaning in to whisper through gritted teeth. “You expect a lot of love and appreciation from a man who never gets any himself.” You look at his dark eyes, while they dart around you. “Just tell me what you want and you’ll have it.” You lay your hand on his cheek forcing him to make eye contact. “Take me to your room and fuck me.” You demand, surprising Mattheo. His harsh and frustrated eyes turn softer as he realises you might not be as unreasonable as he thought.

A/N: Typo’s, grammatical errors, forgotten warnings, worries, disturbances, disastrous thoughts? Let me know, feedback is always welcome!

Picture source: https://pin.it/33fAo21Oe

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo #papercorgiworldwritings

[teatreeoilll]

|| Movie Night (Gojo Satoru X Reader) ||

(Reposted from my old blog which I don't have access to anymore (thanks Tumblr), if you liked it reblogs or likes would be appreciated to get me back on track since I've lost all my followers and half my work :(

Gojo Satoru swears that watching movies is the best training method, and that's all it is, just training, really. Fluff with slight innuendos.

W/C - 1.3 K

"You think we're what?" Nanami's eyebrow cocked up as soon as you spoke. He shot a helpless look at Haibara who was standing over him, leaning his weight on the hand he placed on the desk, entranced by the praise hidden in your request.

The few months since you've started attending Jujutsu High have passed in the blink of an eye. The curves of the hallways became more familiar as you found your way through the maze with ease, a day-to-day routine carefully forming when you began to befriend your classmates, the solemn-looking Nanami Kento and his enthusiastic friend Haibara Yu, awed by their rapidly increasing strength.

The two of them, together with your upper-classmen whom you've only briefly encountered, always looked like they had noble reasons for being in the Jujutsu world - and although it always felt too rude to ask what they were, your reasons for attending the school had paled in comparison to the things you've imagined.

"I think you're strong," you smile awkwardly, "and I was wondering if you have any advice - to - you know, help me get stronger too."

"I don't think I'm the right person to ask," Nanami shied away from the request, tugging on his uniform to distract himself.

"Don't worry!" Haibara cut into the conversation, the smile plastered on his face melting the awkwardness you felt, "You should talk to our upper-classmen, I heard one of them is the strongest sorcerer they've seen in hundreds of years. I'm sure he'll have something useful to say!"

Hibara's expression changes as soon as you walk out of the classroom with a newly found determination to find the strongest.

"Wait," he furrowed his brows at Nanami, placing his thumb on his chin, "D'you think she thinks I think she's weak?"

"I think you should stop thinking so much."

-

"Weak? Yeah, I can see that." Gojo's careless words earn him an elbow to his ribs from his friend Geto, who smiled sheepishly at you while mumbling; quit teasing the juniors, Satoru.

"He doesn't mean it like that," Geto assures you, but the confidence you felt first approaching them on their break between classes vanished just as fast as it came. You manage to let out a bashful chuckle, suddenly aware of the afternoon sun burning mercilessly at your back.

"But I do," the white-haired sorcerer grumbles back at his friend, pulling off his shades to wipe them on the side of his uniform, "She's weak - but at least she wants to do something about it."

You find yourself so remarkably fixated on the light blue color of his eyes peaking through his pale eyelashes that the next words catch you off guard.

"I'd ask Yaga if I were you," Geto ignores his friend's remarks.

"I wanted to," you admit, "I just - I don't want him to think I'm unsatisfied with his teaching methods."

"It's a shame," Gojo puts his sunglasses back on, adjusting them lightly on the bridge of his nose, "If you're unsatisfied you should just say so - don't you think, Suguru?"

Geto sighs.

"But I'll help," a smile creeps slowly on Gojo's face, "What kind of senior would I be if I turn down a desperate plea for help from my junior?"

You open your mouth to defend yourself - trying to retain a neutral expression after being so brazenly called desperate, but fearing Gojo would take back his newly offered assistance, you only utter a quick thank you before agreeing to meet when classes are over.

Geto watches you walk into the building, and just as the hem of your fluttering skirt disappears into the doorway, he turns to his friend.

"That's very kind of you."

"Don't look so surprised, Suguru." Gojo scoffs dramatically, "I would never turn down a junior in need."

Geto rolled his eyes, to which Gojo finished his sentence, "Especially when they have such pretty eyes."

"And a short skirt," Geto laughs.

"A very short skirt." Gojo agrees.

-

"You didn't have to change," Gojo inspects you through his sunglasses. He isn't disappointed about the way the gym clothes hug your body - but the skirt you wore before already held a special place in his heart.

"Why? Aren't we going to train?" You inquire.

"It's a different kind of training," he states nonchalantly, to which you only stare at him, awaiting the specifics, "We're going to watch a movie."

"A .. movie?"

"So you don't want to train with the strongest.." he pauses, turning around as if to walk away.

"N-no!" You exclaim a little too loud, feeling like a wild animal whose leg got captured in a bear trap, "Let's train."

-

You sit down on the edge of Gojo's bed, gluing the palms of your hands to your knees as you watch him insert a CD into the laptop he put on a chair in front of you. He fiddles with the laptop for a while before turning the movie on, letting the opening credits play while he speaks.

"Now, all you have to do is keep a steady flow of cursed energy while you watch."

"What happens if I don't?" You inquire.

"I'll be here to keep you in check," he crosses his arms, directing his attention to the screen, triggering you to do the same.

The open credits pass to reveal the title, The Green Mile. Oh god, that movie's heartbreaking.

Gojo began to feel as though his mission was failing. He hoped you wouldn't be able to stay in control for long - imagining himself putting a hand on your thigh while guiding you confidently, saying things like Don't worry, I'll show you how it's done. Maybe you'll even call him Senpai. But the steady flow of energy in the room hadn't wavered in the past two and a half hours.

The pressure in the room drops as soon as the film attains its climax. A soft smirk grazes Gojo's lips when he starts to speak, turning to face you, "Don't worry, I'll -"

You feel a tear rolling down your face, distracting your focus. As you wipe your face with your sleeve and regain composure, you notice him staring at you with a glimmer of regret, stretching out a long arm to engulf your shoulders.

"T'was good, for your first training session, that is." He talks through the gut-wrenching music of the ending credits.

"Yeah, a training session.." you roll your eyes, still painfully aware of the arm he hadn't moved off your shoulders, why do they always think they're so smooth?

-

12 years later

You look through the doorway into the TV room, watching Gojo picking out DVDs for Yuji, his new student, to watch.

"You're not really going to make him watch films, are you?" You sit next to him, moving the pile of DVD cases scattered across the floor.

"It's training," Gojo focuses on reading the film titles on the paper sleeves, "You should know that."

"Oh please! You were just trying to get in my pants."

"Me?" Gojo chuckles, "You were the one trying to get in my pants - you're so strong Gojo, please train me Gojo!" He imitates you poorly, but you've gotten used to it throughout the years, "You were so desperate I thought you might cry if I refused."

"Oh then, please remind me who was trying to kiss me after finishing The Notebook."

"I did that for you! You were looking so depraved going on and on about how handsome the guy is, I felt sorry for you."

"Sure you did," you mused.

"He's not your type anyway," Gojo shrugs.

"Oh, what's my type then?" You flash a cocky smile at him as he pushes through the pile of DVDs to get closer to you.

"I don't know, I'd say tall, blue eyes," he pushes his blindfold down to rest on his neck, "handsome," he presses closer to you, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks, "strong," he bites down on your bottom lip softly.

"Gojo-Sensei," a voice cuts through the room, "What are we doing for training today - oh," you push yourself away from Gojo, feeling your face grow red as you watch a blushing pink-haired boy rush away from the TV room, "I'll go train with Fushiguro today!" Yuji exclaims from the hallway.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen X reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo X reader #satoru gojo X reader #gojo X you #gojo X y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n

[bunji-enthusiast]

Echoing Troubles

Note || warmup to get me into writing after taking a few days of a break, uhhh this was a request but Tumblr deleted it.

WC || 549

sypnosis || People say great power would mean great responsibility, you weren't one of those people.

Sincerely, being pulled into a plan of wickedness and monsters was the last thing you planned on your card, it wasn’t even on your card at all. You just wanted the madness and torment to stop, having to constantly go through puzzles, figuring out how to get through obstacles standing in your way.

Safe to say, you were nearly this close to be up and done with things. All this adrenaline and running would in no way be a healthy thing for someone like you, you weren’t a fighter, let alone a marathon runner. 

Even being pulled one inch into the web of lies and fabrication, would you ask, ‘Where in the icy seven rings of hell did Elliot Ludwig have the idea to found the very grounds infamously known as Playtime Co?’

Oh absolutely.

You want nothing more for this to end, to end it all for the toys being put through the endless insanity and eternity of torment brought on by the Prototype. But you were just an employee, what more could you be left with to say? To do?

Having your own problems, one might say magicks and the like would put a whole realm of burdens on one’s shoulders.

When people wished they were gifted, they would always single you out as someone who says you never wanted the gift of superpowered abilities. You always kept yourself safe and hidden, keeping to yourself and being silent and lonely, knowing full well what may happen should your physic ability be revealed. But it never came to be, unluckily compared to that one fateful day or night all because of working at Playtime Co.

Let’s be straight and open here, you have an ability to see things that happen as they were meant to originally, and finite. You try to find a way to twist it if it is within your capabilities to go against the real reality of things.

You simply couldn’t cope with this fact, having to take medication for your stress and anxiety, a whole load of things you wouldn’t bear to unload on another. Just for a mere second if your head were to turn the other way, the tables would turn on you.

Yes, keeping this power was something you had done all your life. But now, you had to end up putting it to use, all because you couldn’t bear something happening to DogDay. His original fate that was set in place for him, you defied it with the whole of your heart.

You thought he needed to live, he deserved better.

You just weren’t sure how you should answer his question.

“What?..”

DogDay sighed immediately upon your recall, casting you a forlorn as he asked once more, “Angel.. Ah, I just, why save me in the first place?” He tilted his head, standing in place as you two were in an elevator right now. 

It was taking exceedingly long to get to the top, you simply couldn’t brush off the question that easily. You really didn’t want to answer his question, why the hell was the elevator taking this long. Prolonging the silence, you tapped your foot, lips pursed in a self approved silence to think about it for a moment.

Should you tell him the truth…

Or just lie?

[Want to join the Taglist the next time I post any writing pieces? Let me know!]

#dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #x reader

[dark-vader28]

before I start I love your work you’re literally my favourite writer on tumblr atm :)

(I never do requests so I might be a bit stiff 😭)

I was wondering if you could do something where the reader is Rodricks neighbour and one of his best friends. And it’s like friends to lovers?

Rodrick takes us on drives with his van often and loves spending time with us. And then one day he confesses. (Idk I’m waffling atp)

aww this is so cute i love this idea and tysm!!

a/n: i’m sorry this is so lazy and poorly edited, i’ve just been so swamped with work but i didn’t wanna wait any longer to write this cause it’s such a cute idea.

———

Greg and Rowley were getting tossed around in the back of Rodrick’s van, flying across with every bump in the road. Music blasted through the van and out the open windows as you and Rodrick sat in the front. For a moment you felt bad for the two boys in the back, one of them being your best friend’s younger brother. But you were over the feeling as Rodrick air-drummed along to the song, nearly crashing the car for the millionth time. You’d gotten used to his reckless driving and if anything, you enjoyed it like it was some rollercoaster.

The van slammed to a stop at Rodrick’s house and Greg slammed against the back of your seat, causing you to laugh. You turned to look back at them, unbuckling your seatbelt in the meantime. They both looked horrified, wide-eyed and disheveled clothing and hair, but they didn’t look hurt. No visible signs of bruises or bleeding anyway.

The radio shut off and you hurried out the car and to the back to help Greg and Rowley out. You knew Rodrick wasn’t the biggest fan of either of them but you didn’t mind them and the sinking feeling of guilt started to return as you watched them stumble out the car.

“Guess he shouldn’t have taken out the seats in the back,” you commented, grabbing Greg’s backpack that had been thrown around.

“Ya think?” Greg replied, pissy and sarcastic. Rowley scrambled to his feet, swinging his backpack onto both shoulders.

“Maybe I can convince Rodrick to let me drive next time, alright?” you suggested.

“Only if you’re better than that,” Greg scowled, glaring at Rodrick who was running inside.

“Be nice,” you warned.

“Why?! Rodrick nearly killed us!” Greg defended.

“He’s my best friend like Rowley is yours. Be nice or I won’t do you a favour and ask Rodrick if I could drive.” Greg frowned but kept his mouth shut, dragging Rowley along with him as they ran inside.

You were closing up the back of the van when Rodrick came running back out. You heard his quiet footsteps and quickly turned around before he could try and scare you.

“You know, maybe I should drive next time,” you told him, going to the passenger seat to grab your backpack.

“What? No way,” Rodrick replied without missing a beat. Your backpack hung from one shoulder as you closed the car door.

“Why not?” you questioned.

“My van, my keys,” he said, dangling his keys in the air. “I drive.”

“Yeah, well one day you’re gonna end up killing Greg and Rowley back there,” you added, shooting him a disapproving look.

“So?” he retorted. You pushed his shoulder, rolling your eyes and shaking your head as you hid a smile.

“You’re a douche, you know that?” you laughed, heading towards your house (which was right beside Rodrick’s). He followed after you. He tossed an arm around your shoulder, a gesture he started doing more and more often that you had grown accustomed to.

“Well, chicks dig bad boys,” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes again, pushing him off of you and he laughed harder.

Rodrick stayed over until about 7 that night, leaving when he figured he should go home before his mom had a fit about him missing family dinner. The two of you hung out nearly every night. More often than not, you were at his house, sat in his garage as he played drums or in his room watching scary movies until you were left holding onto him. You often weren’t that scared but watching horror movies at 3am is a different story. The only reason you ever hung out at your house was when Rowley was hanging out with Greg to spare the both of you from being bothered by them.

You and Rodrick had been friends since your family moved to town. The house right beside the Heffley’s was for sale and your father bought it without hesitation. You then met Rodrick at school, around the beginning of 8th grade. The two of you were sat in the back and you made some half-witted comment about how arbitrary and ridiculous the lecture and class was. Rodrick overheard and the two of you spent the next few weeks insulting and cracking jokes about the teacher in that class. Your desks would always scoot closer together and you had to cover your mouth to stifle the laughter and hide the smiles. By the end of 8th grade, you had spent a majority of the year sitting at his lunch table and hanging out after school. You used to go to the park near your house and torment the other kids there; hiding behind play structures and jumping out to scare them. It became more after that, especially when high school hit. You used to spend an afternoon together once in a while but he started to become an everyday thing, taking drives together when he somehow managed to get his license. Fortunately for the two of you, Rodrick’s mom adored you. Which may be why his parents never had a problem with you spending endless nights there.

But, despite what your parents thought at first and what Greg and Rowley think, you never had any romantic feelings for him. He didn’t feel like a brother to you either considering the way you saw Rodrick and Greg relentlessly bicker and fight. You weren’t like that with Rodrick. Sure, you teased one another but never fought in the way you’d watched Greg and Rodrick fight. You loved Rodrick, not in a brotherly way or in a “i’m in love with you, and i know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable” way. Or at least you thought.

Saturday evening rolled around and you sat up against the headboard of your bed, flipping through some old book you’d had for years. Your eyes flicked over the pages, hardly taking in and reading a single word. Your headphones blared music into your ears and you couldn’t help but tap the spine of the book along to the rhythm until you lost all interest in the book’s entirety. You tossed it aside, staring blankly at the wall in front of you. Normally, it would’ve been a day where you and Rodrick hung out but he had never picked up the phone and called you, or came pounding on your door, or even had failed attempts at climbing through your window (considering your parents were a little less fond of Rodrick, calling him a bad influence and whatnot). His absence left your day empty and it felt tedious with how slow the hours seemed to pass.

Around 9 o’clock, when you planned on having an early night due to your lack of things to do, you could hear honking from the front of your house. Then a shout of your name echoed through the house. You pulled on a jacket, covering up your bare arms, and practically flew down the stairs. Your mom stood at the front door, arms folded over her chest with a scowl.

“That boy, Rodrick, is honking outside. I just put your sister to bed and now she’s up, crying,” your mom frowned. You pursed your lips briefly and glanced at the door.

“Sorry, mom,” you mumbled, sliding into a pair of shoes before hurrying out the door. As you closed it behind you, you saw Rodrick hanging out the window of his van, one hand over the horn while the other held him up. His hand seemed to slip and he honked again. You rushed to the car and hit him as he flopped down into his seat. “Quit honking, or my mom’s gonna kill you,” you urged. Despite the darkness of the night, the pale moonlight lit up his face just enough to see the red of his cheeks as he looked away from you.

“Get in then, or I’ll honk again,” Rodrick joked and you rolled your eyes, smiling, before willingly getting in the passenger side.

“I should’ve asked, where exactly are we going?” you asked, turning your attention to him as he began driving. He was driving slower and much more carefully than he ever had before. His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug and he failed to look in your direction.

“I just wanted to take a drive,” he replied simply, sounding a little sheepish, which wasn’t like him. Taking drives with him wasn’t an unusual thing per se, but the way he seemed quieter and damn near stunned around you hadn’t fit his typical demeanor. Quite frankly, it worried you.

“Don’t you have a curfew?” you asked. He tapped the wheel, looking nearly everywhere but you. He nodded cautiously.

“Yeah, 9 o’clock,” he muttered. You laughed a bit, hoping it would lighten the mood or ease the tension that was weighing a ton.

“Well then, Rodrick, I-” but he interrupted.

“Have you ever liked anyone?” he blurted out. Your brow furrowed, stunned by the randomness of the question. His knuckles looked white from the way he gripped the steering wheel and you feared he would break it off.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” you questioned, avoiding answering. He drew in a sharp breath.

“I was just wondering,” he replied. You bit the inside of your cheek, hesitating on your response.

“Why, you like someone?” you asked, still delaying your answer as you tried to conjure up something to say. What did it matter to him? Better yet, why had the question made you so nervous? You and Rodrick told each other nearly everything. Rodrick ran to you asking for advice when he had a crush on Heather Hills. Why was it so different now?

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t,” he added, his voice going even quieter.

“What do you mean you shouldn’t?” you inquired. His jaw clenched and he brought the car to a stop. You looked around outside for a moment. There were no houses. There was nothing at all really. Just empty land.

It was silent except for the distant chirp of crickets. It took Rodrick a moment before he finally spoke. “Y/n, I-” he stopped, finally looking at you. All words escaped his mind and the rest of his sentence trailed off. He averted his gaze as quickly as he had found it and cleared his throat. He shook his head and shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He buried his face in his hands and your worry reached its peak. He seemed outright miserable.

“I like you,” he spoke, voice muffled by his hands. Your jaw went slack and eyes went wide.

“What?” you asked quietly, not because you hadn’t heard but because you couldn’t fathom the fact he liked you of all people.

He lifted his face out of his hands and repeated himself, louder this time. “I like you.” Your gaze softened.

“Rodrick,” you began softly. His hands fell to his lap, then raised again and gripped the wheel, running his hands over it. Your mind was going nearly a million miles an hour, trying to sort out his and your own feelings. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest and you could hear the thump of it through the silence. You were hoping he would say something as you tried to carefully pick out your words but your head was just a jumble of all the things you wished you could say.

“Yeah, no, I get it,” he said, sounding defeated. You shook your head and your mouth opened but no words seemed to pour out. When there was a lack of your response, Rodrick jumped in. “I’ll take you home. Forget this ever happened, alright?” He finally met your gaze again and you could see the way his eyes were glassy and on the verge of bloodshot. You felt your eyes start to pool up. He turned his attention to the road and started up the car again.

“Rod, I, um, I didn’t mean for you to take it like that.” You desperately racked your brain for any of the right words that seemed to be forming on the tip of your tongue but you couldn’t deliver it properly. “To be honest, I don’t know how I feel.” You let out a light laugh, keeping yourself from the tears about to flow down your cheeks.

You were so enveloped in your mess of thoughts, you hadn’t noticed when Rodrick’s van pulled to a stop right in front of your house. You swallowed the lump in your throat and a hot tear rolled down your cheek. You’d come to the realization you liked him too, and maybe that you always had. It had never made sense to you though; that you felt that way for him. It didn’t made sense now either but it was clear that you did. You both got out of his van and you rushed over to his side. He was heading up his driveway and you stepped in front of him. He stopped, looked down at you through a few strands of his dark shaggy hair that covered his glassy doe brown eyes and you felt your heart stop for a moment. You cupped his face, and moved up to press your lips to his. There was a moment of bliss and ignorance where it felt like the world fell away. But you felt him tense underneath your touch and you slipped away. You let your hand fall away and felt the sinking feeling of regret in your stomach as you started walking away. Maybe if you had seen the dorky bright smile illuminate Rodrick’s face as you walked away, you might’ve felt better but you scurried home and spent the rest of the night thinking you made the worst decision of your life; ruining your friendship with Rodrick in a way that couldn’t be recovered.

The doorbell echoed through the house, startling you awake. You groaned, rubbing your eyes and turning on your side to look at your alarm clock. It was barely 9 am. You yawned and stretched as you sat up, finally getting up as the doorbell rang impatiently again. Your eyes had dark rings and were still red from your night of crying over Rodrick (shamefully and feeling ridiculously stupid for caring so much) but you hardly thought about how you looked as you stumbled to the door. The doorbell rang a 3rd time and you were sure your parents would be mad at you for not answering the door sooner. You swung the door open carelessly, not bothering to look through the peephole first. Despite your tiredness blinding your senses, the strong scent of flowers filled your nose when the door opened and when your eyes focused, you noticed the bright arrangement of colors before you, all blooming and full of life, which you weren’t sure you’d be able to maintain for long.

“My mom picked them, I didn’t know what you like,” the voice mumbled. Your attention flicked up from the flowers to the one holding them. You suddenly wished you looked better; your hair tangled from bedhead, bloodshot eyes, and some old tank top and pajama pants you had for years. Your eyes found Rodrick’s deep brown eyes and messy hair with a crooked smile on his lips. You nearly swooned, gaze softening as you could feel your heart melt.

“Rodrick,” you started quietly. He held the flowers out to you and you took them, a grin spreading across your face. You were speechless. You never took him as the type to give flowers, especially after one impulsive kiss. Not to your knowledge, Rodrick had run to his mom that night and begged her to help him. He didn’t trust most of her advice but took her ideas and turned them into The Rodrick Way. Except for the flowers. That was all his mom’s idea.

“Wanna take a drive?”

———

a/n (again): this was kinda lazy and i hate this but i felt bad for postponing posting this for so long and i can’t keep rereading this and trying to fix it 😭 anyway, i loved the request so much!

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick rules #rodrick fanfic #doawk rodrick #devon bostick #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick x y/n #rodrick x reader #my fic #anon ask #anonymous #thanks anon! #send asks #thanks for the ask!

[sleepy-wyvern]

His Hummingbird (Miguel O'Hara x female!reader smut)

{Angsty smut oneshot}

Available: here on Tumblr and AO3

WC: ~2.2k [oneshot]

Synopsis: You're a human female who has a boyfriend from another dimension; Spider-Man 2099. Miguel visits your apartment late at night as a surprise after not seeing him for a week.

I HAD TO GET THIS IDEA OUT OF MY HEAD BEFORE I COULD FOCUS ON OTHER FICS IM SORRY ;-;

Inspirations: the song Hummingbird by Metro Bloomin and James Blake and you know the fang scene… man definitely bites 👀

A/N: If y’all want/request more I may write more, otherwise this is a one shot ❤️ leave a comment or reblog if you liked. 

Warnings/tags: Angst, Smut (18+ Minors DNI), hickies (lotsa biting), fingering, light begging from reader, p in v (condom), light male whimpering

Disclaimer: I borrowed my spanglish friend for some of the translations here. Feel free to send an ask or comment if something feels off.

Enjoy!

The moon shone bright through the heavy clouds as you wondered where your spider was. 

Fighting crime, defeating evil, saving lives, all nothing you could complain about. Another universe, another day, another “business trip.” He used that phrase to try and make you feel better but it couldn’t take away from the fact that one day he may not return. Perhaps if things went bad enough you wouldn’t ever be able to know what happened to him, just spending the rest of your life waiting for someone who would never return. You tried your best to shove the thought away as you fiddled with the window latch.

You pushed open the window widely to get whatever cool night air you could in your little city apartment. As the hot summer days neared closer you took solace in the cold rainy night. The sound of the rain and the city traffic was oddly comforting.

You turned and walked toward the kitchen sink opposite of the room figuring you'd at least try to get some chores done. It was a small-ish apartment the size of a hotel room really. The biggest room was the merged kitchen and living room. Still, it was familiar enough space for you to sense the presence behind you.

The moment you turned your back you heard the window blinds gently tap against the window pane; anyone else would’ve thought that had been the wind. Anyone else without a spider person lover anyways.

“Do spiders ever use the door?” You spoke without turning around, instead you turned the faucet on to do the dishes.

“You should start locking that window at night,” his gruff voice was directly behind you.

“Miguel,” you sighed, twisting the tap off before turning around.

It had been a week since his last visit, the longest ever since you started “seeing” each other. You hadn’t put a label on anything yet, what could you call a lover from another dimension that could never stay with you?

Every time you saw him after a prolonged period you were intimidated by how he stood over you. He hadn’t meant to be intimidating as his mask was already removed, yet it was hard to ignore his height and size of his build especially when he had to look down at you.

“Nobody can enter a 4th story window,” you smiled. “Just you.”

Despite that you were angry he was gone for so long your heart melted at the sight of his brown locks falling gracefully over his forehead. He wore his blue and red spider suit as he always did when traveling.

He wrapped his large arms around your waist, pulling you close into his hot embrace. He planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Te extrañé…” He trailed off as he pulled back to look into your eyes. 

He held his hands against your face when you eyed his bracelet; the thing that let him stay here with you without “glitching out.” It was a grim reminder of what could never be. Despite the comfort you got from his rough hands against your soft face, it made you sad. 

“I missed you too,” you sighed, overlapping his hand with your smaller one.

The bracelet was cool to the touch as you frowned. “Where have you been?” You scolded, “You told me you’d be back by Monday. It’s Friday!”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed furrowing his brows. “It’s work.”

“It always is,” You turn around putting your hands on the smooth countertop.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he offered, sounding sad and hopeful.

You knew he didn’t mean to make you worry or make you sad. You both wished things were different. It would make it so much easier. You knew though that if he could change things he would and you didn’t want to hold what was out of his control against him. It wasn’t his fault you were born in different worlds, different universes. It didn’t help that you weren’t a spider person either.

You felt his hands gently against your waist as he moved closer to you.

��I'm sorry." He sighed. "Mi pequeña colibrí…” he whispered into your ear. His breath was hot and heavy against your neck sending shivers down your body.

“Oh stop, you can’t use the español to make me feel better! No fair!” You laughed. 

He placed a kiss on your ear that tickled before you spun back around, wrapping your arms over his shoulders.

“My spiderman,” You giggled as his look of concern melted into happiness. "I'm not mad at you. Just try to let me know if you'll be late next time."

The corner of his lips turned upward ever so slightly in relief. "I promise."

Another thing that was likely yours only; Miguel’s smile. When Jessica met you she was surprised you were even real. She warned you to not mention much of Miguel’s personal life activities to the other spider people but it was hard to remember. Once you accidentally mentioned the flowers on your table were from Miguel to Gwen she nearly fainted. You adored the way he treated you special even if you weren’t sure why he chose you. You could never be mad at him for something he couldn't control.

He brushed his thumbs in a circular motion against your waist as he held you. His dark eyes were full of love as he looked down at you. 

You ran your fingers back through his brown hair. He seemed to sigh beneath your touch, it was thrilling in a way to know he was comfortable enough around you to let his guard down. Nobody else could see Miguel the way you did.

“You need to stop being so stressed. Relax more.” You sighed bringing your fingers to his forehead. “Grumpy wrinkles.”

He chuckled low as he held you tightly. He brought his face down into your neck to inhale the sweet scent of your perfume that he loved so much.

“I know what helps with that,” his voice was deep and silky and fuck it made your body melt. 

You giggled as his sweet kisses turned into loving nibbles. He was careful to not hurt you with his fangs but he knew how much you loved his gentle biting. You had a hunch he loved it as much as you did. On top of that it’s been a week without it and damn you missed him.

You let his touch overwhelm you as he held you, softly biting against your delicate skin. His body tensed against you the moment you let out a small pleasurable gasp.

“Hm,” He huffed deeply as he pulled back. “I forgot my strength. I’m sorry, mi colibrí.”

He brought his fingers up to your neck, wiping away the wetness before examining the hickie left behind.

“That’s what makeup is for,” you reassured. “Now, you have a week to make up for…”

“No better time to start than now,” he knocked off the stack of papers that were laying on the countertop.

Before you could react he grabbed your hips, lifting you into the air. You let out a faint gasp as you wrapped your legs around him.

“Miguel!” You scolded as he smirked at you, placing you on the empty countertop space. “Naughty, what has become of you?” You teased him.

“You have become of me,” he pressed his hot lips against yours hungrily. 

He brought his hands around to the back of your head holding you close so he could kiss you deeply. It wasn’t long before you could feel his cool tongue against your lips. You opened your mouth letting him in, his cold mouth meeting your warm one.

You brought your hands to his shoulders feeling the fabric of his suit. Eagerly you moved your fingers to his back, grasping for the zipper. You rotated between feeling the muscles of his back and fumbling with the damn zipper making your kisses turn sloppy.

“Eager aren’t we?” He laughed low and deep in his throat, it wasn’t a mocking tone. In fact you knew he loved it. 

He shimmied his shoulders out of the suit and it took all of your power not to basically drool over him. You wasted no time bringing your hands to feel his hot skin, tracing your fingers lovingly over the scars on his chest.

You buried your fingers in his hair as your lips met again. The man loves to kiss you, almost as much as he loves to bite you. He took the opportunity to switch to biting your neck whenever you pulled back to breathe. 

He slowly brought his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, running his calloused fingers along your silky smooth torso. You separated from him only long enough to remove the pesky fabric of your top before diving back into him again.

You could feel the bulge in his underwear against your leg as he leaned forward to undo the clasp of your bra. He brought his large hands to your breasts lovingly cupping and massaging them. Goosebumps rose against his skin at the sound of your soft, lustful moans.

“More baby,” you whispered.

He brought his lips to your nipple, his hair tickling your chest. You tilted your head down letting yourself get lost in the scent of his shampoo while he planted wet kisses against your stiff nipple. His grabs on your body slowly turned more rough as you felt his teeth against your skin.

“More,” you demand. It’s been a week and damn you wanted him more than anything. 

He hooked his fingers underneath the soft fabric of your leggings and panties as you shimmied to help. Your body shivered as the fabric pooled to the floor. Miguel looked at your body with a mixture of awe and hunger- a deep lust filled hunger.

He brought his index and middle finger to your entrance, smiling when he felt how wet you were.

“You really did miss me huh, mi pequeña colibrí?” 

You nodded “mmm’, yes I did. Need you, Miguel.” You whined feeling him circle your entrance.

He wasn’t cruel to make you wait as he plunged his fingers in. Your back arched as you gasped, spreading your legs desperate for him deeper. Feeling his fingers arch against your walls and watching the movements of his wrist as he pleased you was intoxicating.

Still you wanted more.

“Please, baby,” you whimpered.

Your body whined when he stopped and pulled his fingers out. 

“What is it, cariño?” His voice purred. He brought his fingers to his lips, rolling his tongue over your sweetness.

“You,” your lip quivered as you shuddered from the cool apartment air. “Please.”

You knew this was a game he could normally play for a long time. Not today though, neither of you could handle it. Instead your heart raced as he nodded to the kitchen drawer where you kept the condoms since counter sex had become a more regular activity.

He brought his large, hard cock out of his boxers, stroking lightly. You swallowed at the sight wondering how you could ever take him.

He smirked at your expression “are you afraid?”

You shook your head, reaching your hands out to his broad shoulders trying to bring him closer. You fumbled with the condom, bringing your hands to his hot cock. He gasped lightly as your hands held him him, rolling the condom down over him.

He lined his tip against your entrance, soaking himself in your juices and teasing you just a little. 

“Are you ready?” He whispered and for the first time tonight you heard his voice start to shake.

You bit your lip as you nodded “I am.”

He slowly slid himself in as you let out a moan of tight, firey pressure. The moment he was fully inside you both let out a gasp; you both waited so long for this moment. You wrapped your arms around him as he buried his face in the crook of your neck while you got used to the feeling of all of him inside. 

He waited for you to nod and give him the okay to continue. He planted a kiss on your cheek as he pulled out slightly before thrusting in again. You spread your legs further apart, moaning at the next deeper thrust. You grasped at the muscles of his back for an anchor.

“Just like that, cariño,” He whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

He thrusted against, harder and faster as you felt your pleasure start to build. He kept a lovely, steady pace and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you reached your climax.

“Oh Miguel,” you moaned, making him shiver. “Baby, I’m close.”

You grasped at his back desperate to have more of him. His heavy breaths and grunts sent electricity through you while his cock pressed lovingly against that sweet spot.

“Don’t move,” his voice was a quiet whimper while you held him.

Fuck, hearing him whimper always sent you feral but you did your best to keep still while he pounded into your tight cunt. Your back arched as the waves of pleasure crashed down into a lovely orgasm. 

“You feel so good,” he whispered in your ear. 

You knew he was close and you wrapped your legs around him not letting him go. 

“I’m, I’m-“ his voice broke off as you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

His arms held you tightly to him as you were wrapped around him lovingly. The heat of your bodies, the feeling of his heart beating and the rise and fall of his chest as he heavily breathed through the pleasure… Despite that soon he’d have to leave again these moments are what make it worth it.

"Te amo," his voice was a husky whisper as he held you.

For now, you got to enjoy the warm embrace of your spider. 

===

💙💙💙💙

Thanks so much for reading, let me know if you enjoyed with any comments/reblogs, I appreciate them all!

-Wyv

#miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel x female!reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x female!reader smut #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x female!reader #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o'hara imagine #fan fic #fan fics #fan fiction #fan fictions

[angel-of-the-moons]

Idk how tumblr works so, apologies ig this isnt a request place.

But i was thinking poly johnny cage and kenshi x reader, where its just fluff with johnny and reader helping kenshi get dressed, bc hes blind, or something like that♡

Gods im soft for this poly relationship😫

Nahhh you getting something because ashslnsl this shit is cute as fuuuuck

Little Wonders

Kenshi x Johnny x Reader

TW/CW: None!

A/N: This is what I was talking about @crimsonbubble lol

🗡️🎥🗡️🎥🗡️🎥🗡️🎥🗡️🎥

Yet again, Kenshi ripped the shirt open to try and rebutton it. He had been at it for almost twenty minutes, now; having to undo the pearl baubles and slip them back into their holes again.

Only to find that this time, he was not one--but two buttons off and the shirt was still lopsided.

He let out a frustrated hiss and yanked the buttons free, this time snagging one so hard the little object popped out of its stitching and skittered across the bedroom floor.

Hanging his head in defeat, Kenshi felt around until he found the foot of your ridiculously large bed, plopping down and sinking into the downy soft mattress with a hefty sigh.

Kenshi could easily call Sento to him; use the magic sword to grant him his sight so he could see enough to map out the buttons, to get dressed by himself like a grown adult should be able to do.

But without Sento, he was as blind as a newborn kitten. And Sento wasn't a crutch. Kenshi needed to learn how to do things without his eyes, to adjust. Because it's not exactly subtle or publicly acceptable to carry a goddamn katana with you to a red carpet event. Which is what he had been trying to get ready for. He just wanted to wait until you and Johnny were preoccupied with swimming out some of your pre-event jitters in his pool to try, to get some of the privacy he needed to spare his dignity. He needed to learn how to do this, how to cope...

He couldn't walk around like you or Johnny without some sort of aid, couldn't dress himself properly anymore... he was damn lucky he could still feed himself without assistance.

"Oh, Kenshi..." He heard you sigh from the threshold of your bedroom door. You and Johnny smelled like the chlorine from the pool; your bathing suits had been stripped away and you both wore your plush bath robes to ward the chill off your naked bodies.

"If you'd asked us, we could have helped you, Ken." Johnny replied as well, moving to sit next to him as you began to gently unbutton the expensive silk blouse.

"You shouldn't have to." He retorted, "I should be able to do it--"

"Hush." You say to him gently, your fingers gently touching his lips to quiet him. Johnny slipped a hand around the back of Kenshi's neck, kneading the thick knots of tension he found there. His mouth twisted briefly into a slight frown when he felt just how tense he was.

"C'mon, babe!" Johnny said. Kenshi could practically hear the cock-eyed smirk Johnny had on his face. "You know we don't mind. Though, taking your shirt off is more fun than putting one on--"

"Oi! Shut it!" You snort, swatting at him before putting Kenshi's popped shirt on the dresser before pulling out one of Johnny's to put on him.

"Abuse! Abuse!" Johnny laid across his lap dramatically, feigning injury. "Oh, oh my god! Kenshi, do you hear how our lovely partner is treating me?! I swear, I should have you locked up!"

He can't help but smile, despite it all. It never failed. Whenever he was down in the dumps, dealing with his new "handicap" as he so deprecatingly referred to it as, the two of you swooped in to cheer him up, pulling a smile out of him when he thought there was none to be had.

"Hah! Like they'd believe you, you drama queen." You scoff, flicking him in his nose. "Now get up, you cry baby!"

Johnny snickered and laughed as he sat up, crawling onto the bed so he was sitting behind Kenshi, his legs spread to wrap around him from behind casually as he leaned back on his hands.

"Kenshi, hands." You hum to him, brushing a hand through his short dark hair, bringing your hand down to touch his cheek, your thumb caressing the corners of where his eyes used to be, feeling the cratered scars left behind by Mileena's sais.

He complies, his body posture softening as you and Johnny help him slip into the soft, buttery smooth shirt.

Johnny buttons his cuffs while you button his front.

"I..." Kenshi tried to find the words; anything to say to the two of you about why you shouldn't be helping him, that he needs to relearn these things on his own.

Johnny interrupts him first: "Nope." He hums, burying his face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the mixed scent of his own shirt and Kenshi's favorite body wash that still lingered on his skin.

"Can already hear those gears working on your head, Ken. Stop it."

"We're a team, Kenshi." You say to him, cupping his cheeks in your hand as Johnny effectively becomes a human koala bear.

"And we aren't going to let you struggle on your own. It's not weakness to ask for help from those you love. A strong individual knows you can't survive without it."

"Without what exactly?" He sighed, relaxing into the two of you.

"Love, you fuckin' goober." You snicker, leaning down to kiss him, his stubble brushing your face softly.

If he could, Kenshi Takahashi would have cried.

#🌙 answered #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat 1 x reader #kenshi takahashi x reader #kenshi takahashi x you #kenshi takahashi #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x you #johnny x kenshi x you #johnny x kenshi #johnshi #johnny cage mk1 #kenshi takahashi mk1

[girlfriendstan]

give you every first

contains: smut, blow jobs, noona kink, size difference

word count: 0.5k

a/n: not new to tumblr but new to zb1/smutblr. inbox is open for hcs and requests! i’m gyuvin-centric out of personal indulgence and preference. might make this into a series of first times with gyuvin.

—

amidst all the play fighting and teasing, gyuvin hates seeing you get hurt, but he can’t seem to look away from you bruising your knees on his apartment’s wooden floor. he wants to wipe off the tears welling up from your eyelids, but his hands are stuck gripping at your hair, clawing for some sense of relief as your mouth takes him whole. you like how he doesn’t know he’s being rough with you, but that’s not something he needs to know now. he’s bigger than you thought he’d be—if you can admit to yourself that you’ve thought about that more than you should’ve—but that should come as no surprise when he towers over you, when his hands are twice the size of yours.

make no mistake, though: you have the advantage here as the older one between you two. he’s always called you noona excessively for the fun of it, but this time, the honorifics feel more desperate. “noona, doesn’t it hurt,” gyuvin asks as he hears your throat grow hoarse after forcing down his last few inches, but you placate him with a round of mmm’s before licking up a stripe from base to tip. he lets out his loudest sigh yet, which only leads you to reach for the exposed sliver of his stomach, its warm sensation makes you moan all over his cock.

“noona, i’m close,” gyuvin’s pleas are music to your ears, signaling you to look up to see his face. you’d think you’d be the mess between the two of you: your hair disheveled, your cheeks stained with tears, your mouth nearly dripping with saliva, but once you lock eyes with him, all concern for yourself evaporates. instead, you savor how he looks at you in awe after each suck, those deep brown eyes can’t help but stare you down even as he tries and fails to cover them with his arm. when your eyes finally meet, you feel him erupt into your mouth, and his release coats your lips.

you smile into the mess you’ve made of him and reach for the base of his cock to give you some form of leverage—you never intended on letting go of your upper hand after all. you make sure you lick him clean before swallowing his load, and when you do, he moans harder than he ever had through this entire ordeal. regardless of how crass and unbecoming it sounds in your head, tasting gyuvin has awakened a side of you you didn’t know could exist. there was absolutely no way you could see the younger man the same way after all this, so you let go of whatever self-restraint you had left and slip off your underwear to touch yourself so you could try and reach your own high. that is, until…

“noona, i can do that for you,” gyuvin gestures towards your splayed fingers, and you could cry at the thought of his hands — twice the size of yours — having their way inside you instead.

#zb1 smut #zerobaseone smut #gyuvin smut #kim gyuvin smut #zb1 hard hours #zerobaseone hard hours