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satorusugurugurl · 20 days

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My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,498

Warning: stress, yelling, fighting, kisses, insecurity, self doubt, language, suggestive, whipped cream

A/N: Things are getting are getting spicy now!! Y'all aren't ready for part four!! A reminder, of you want to be included in the tag list YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!

Part One, Part Two, Part Four Part Five

The smell of cedarwood, one you used to love, was now suffocating you like a toxic gas. Your eyes blurred in shock as Toji pressed his chest against your back. Letting you know this was real and you weren't in a drunken haze.

“Are you listening to me?” Toji spoke again, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. “I told you we need to talk.”

A year and a half ago, the old you would have given in, allowing him to give you any explanation he pulled out of his ass. You, however, had grown in your time away. You didn't have to listen to him.

“I don't want to talk to you.” Your voice trembles, not in fear, but in a boiling rage that was settling in your chest. “Get the fuck off me.” The disbelief in his eyes is almost comical, but he doesn't move. “Get! The! Fuck! Off! Me!”

Your ex listened this time, promptly stepping back and holding both of his hands out in front of him. “Jesus fuck, sorry. But I'm serious about talking to you.”

A scoff of disbelief is the only answer you gave him as you washed your hands. If you kept your body constantly moving, you wouldn't freeze up again. Despite your best efforts, your traitorous hands continued trembling. Unfortunately for you, Toji noticed this, his eyes lingering on your hands before drifting to your face as you dried them off.

“Do I make you that nervous?”

“Oh my god, are you kidding me?!” The rage finally boiled over, like hot milk on a stove. “Nervous?! You think I'm nervous?!” You stormed forward, jabbing your pointer finger into his chest.

Your rage and finger jabs only have Toji rolling his eyes. His much larger hand shot up, grabbing and squeezing your wrist. His skin on yours made you feel a certain way. That contact was something you craved before, something you felt like you needed. Now? That contact made your stomach churn with nausea.

“Ya’ done lying?”

“Let me go.”

“No, I asked you a question. Are ya’ done lying?” Toji steps forward, crowding you against the wall. “Because we both know you're lying to yourself. You are nervous; you've been nervous since you stepped foot here in Kyoto with your friend.” His words stung like lashings from a whip. “I make ya’ nervous; that's why you've been avoiding me. And I don't like being ignored.”

A rage burned in your eyes as he waited for you to respond. How dare he corner you and act like you were the problem! You yank your wrist away, glaring up at him.

“That friend of mine is my boyfriend! And I'm not nervous around you. I can't stand you. Being around you makes me sick.”

“Oh, that's rich. Why is that Y/N? Why do I make you sick?”

“What makes me sick?! Toji, did you forget you broke off our engagement a month before our wedding? You broke my heart! Being around you fuckin’ hurts; do you not understand that!? So what you see as nervousness is me trying to heal!” Toji’s eyes widened as you continued your rant. “So that’s why I have no desire to talk to you! I don't care what you have to say!” But knowing Toji, he wouldn't back down so easily. “But you won't leave me alone unless you say whatever the fuck it is you want to say! So what is it, come to gloat about your life as a married man? Come to show me a picture of your pretty wife?”

“Watch it.”

“Or did she find out about your gambling problem and can't handle it? So you want me back so I can take care of us?” You had fully intended for that to hurt, but your insults just bounced off him. A smirk turned at the corner of his scarred lip.

“You think I'd actually want you back?”

His words stung like a million scorpion stings. It knocked the air out of your lungs as you felt your stomach drop. Toji slowly came to the realization of what he had said, his smirk falling as he saw the tears in your eyes.

“Y/N, fuck, I didn't mean it like that.”

You shoved your way past him; your heart thundered in your ears as you grabbed your sweater and bag off your chair. All of your friends were far too drunk to notice the state you were in, waving bye as you headed for the door, dialing Satoru’s number. Hot tears flowed down your cheeks as you tried to keep some composure.

He picked up on the first ring. “Our first drunk call; I'm so excited to hear all the cute things you're gonna say.” When Satoru doesn’t hear the commotion of the bar, his teasing tone vanishes. “Y/N?” God, he sounds sincere, like he might care for you. “Sweetheart, what's wrong?”

“T-Toji’s here, and I—” a sob rips through your chest, “I can't do this.”

“Where are you?” You listen to him shuffling a door opening and closing.

“Outside of the bar.”

“Is he around?”

“N-No.”

His breathing was shallow; the background was breaking in and out. Was he—running? Why would he come running to you?

“Good, stay there; I'm on my way.” The line went dead, leaving you standing there, staring at your phone.

The inn was nearby, so it shouldn't take him long, maybe a ten-minute walk, maybe faster since he was running. But he couldn't come soon enough. Your head kept turning toward the door to the bar, anxiously waiting to see if Toji came out. God, you prayed he wouldn't.

Your chest was constricting, and your eyes blurred as you fought against the tears threatening to escape. You didn't want to cry more. Because it was a waste of time, energy, and tears. There was no sense in crying over something so silly!

“You think I’d actually want you back?”

His words were on a loop. Slicing into your still bleeding heart, cutting new wounds, deeper ones. Which was so stupid! You would never get back to him! Even if he asked you to. You two had grown apart, your relationship toxic. So why did it bother you so much? Words from a man that hadn't been in your life for so long!

You glanced towards the night sky, the stinging feeling slowly turning numb. You knew deep down why it hurt. A reason that made you feel sick and weak. Like some fucking pathetic character from a soapy book.

If Toji didn't want you, who would?

A hand gently grabs your shoulder, turning you around. You turn, expecting to look up to the almost magical blue eyes of Satoru. Only you can find dark blue eyes. You step back, only to have Toji grab your purse and yank it, pulling You back towards him.

“Leave me the fuck alone!!” Toji flinched at your broken plea. “Haven't you done enough tonight?!”

“Look, I’m sorry! I didn't mean it like that!”

You fight against every urge to punch him. “Oh!? Okay, what did you mean when you said, ‘You think I’d actually want you back?’ Because it seems like you meant it to me!” Your purse falls to the ground as Toji pulls you closer. His hands clamp down on your upper arms to prevent you from moving away.

“Will you shut the fuck up for five damn minutes!?”

More tears stream down your face; your eyebrows knitted together pathetically as he bent down slightly, forcing you to look up at him. There was no use fighting it. He wasn't going to stop; you were trapped.

Satoru was breathing heavily as he turned the same corner he'd walked with you earlier. When he did, he froze in his tracks, seeing you and your prick of an ex standing outside. Toji was squeezing you, yelling something in your face. Satoru’s heart clenched when he saw the way your eyebrows pinched together. You were distraught, visibly upset, and you—you were crying.

Something inside Satoru’s chest snapped, and he bolted forward, rage painted over his features. “Hey!”

Your head whirled towards his voice, Y/H/C hair, tear droplets flying. He swears it happened in slow motion; fuck, you were even pretty when you were upset. Your face softened, the disdain melting away like snow in the spring. All because he was there, knowing that he had that sort of effect on you made his heart race. Making you happy was all Satoru had wanted to do.

Something he had never felt with clients before. Because the more time he spent with you, the more Satoru got to know you, the less you became another client on his calendar. To him, you weren't just a number, a dollar in his bank account, were Y/N.

His Y/N.

Not this fucking assholes. Not anymore! Satoru grabbed Toji’s wrist, forcing him to release you. Your ex-fiance glowered as Satoru pulled you to stand behind him. When your hands clung to his shirt, he released his vice grip on Toji’s wrist.

“You again.” Toji sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, me, the boyfriend.” Satoru crowded Toji, the two men face to face. “I’m guessing you didn't hear me the first time.” He eyed your ex up and down. “If Y/N wants to talk to you, she will. But as you can see, she doesn't, so fuck off.”

Satoru backed off as you buried your face into his back. He knew you were crying. Still, your body was trembling, hands clinging to him, keeping you grounded so you didn't break down. The state you were in irked him the wrong way, and his fist clenched, longing to hurt the dick who'd hurt you as much as he’s done to you.

“I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but this is between me and Y/N. So you fuck off.”

“I'm Gojo Satoru, heir to the Gojo family business. I'm also dating Y/L/N Y/N, and I plan on being with her for a very long time! Got it?! Good now, if you’ll excuse us; I’m taking my girlfriend out for dinner, asshole.”

Satoru felt your grip loosen around him, a little gasp leaving your lips. “T-Toru.” A nickname, you gave him a nickname. God, he felt like he could fly.

“I got you, let's go.” Turning around, Satoru started leading you down the sidewalk.

He barely made it a foot away before he was yanked back by the collar of his shirt. Both fists shot up, ready to fight. Toji instead shoved your purse in his face. “Some boyfriend, you are almost leaving without her bag.” Toji waved at you as he headed back into the bar. “We’ll finish this another time, Y//N.” Satoru glared at him until Toji was inside; the second he was gone, Satoru grabbed your hand, leading you down the street.

You didn't say a word, but your smaller fingers intertwined with his, allowing him to lead you away. He pulled into a ramen shop, helping you in a booth before sitting across from you. You were wiping at your eyes, but more tears kept rolling down your cheeks. Satoru’s heart shattered seeing you so upset like this.

“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccuped, “I god, I'm sorry, Satoru.”

“No, don't apologize.” He reached out, replacing your hand with his own. His thumbs gently brushed tears away. “What happened?”

You laughed, but it wasn't your usual happy laugh. No, this laugh was full of sorrow. Satoru didn't like it when you laughed like that.

With a breathless sigh, you leaned into his hand. “Toji cornered me in the bathroom. He kept wanting to talk, and well, things were said.” Your lips brushed over Satoru’s palm as you spoke. “In the midst of my anger, I asked if his wife found out about his gambling problem. And if he wanted me back to take care of him like I did. Jokingly, of course, and he—” Your bottom lip quivered. “H-He uhm, god, it's so stupid—”

“It's not stupid, please tell me.”

You took a deep breath, “He said, ‘You think I’d actually want you back.’” Your voice was so fragile as you repeated those pain-ridden words to him.

“Are you kidding me?” Satoru’s other hand cupped your other cheek. Holding your face gently as he watched as your face contorted with emotional pain. “This is the part where you tell me you're joking, right? That he didn't say that shit to you?” The mind-numbing silence was the answer to his question. “That motherfucker, I should have knocked him out when I had the chance.”

“I-I didn't even mean it, ya’ know? I wouldn't get back together with him.”

“Good, because there's no way in hell I would allow you to get back together with that asshole. You deserve so much more.”

Your Y/E/C widened and glittered under the lights at his words. “You think I deserve more?” Satoru nodded, thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones. The look on your face was full of hope, a look Satoru had never seen grace your beautiful features before. But that light faded just as fast as it appeared.

It was doubt; you had been hurt so much in the past that you doubted the genuine words he was saying.

”Hey, I don’t say shit. I don’t mean.” Satoru whispered.

”I know, I just, I’m so confused.”

”Confused because you’re drunk?”

”No, I’m pretty much sober now.” You sighed, pulling away from his grasp. “I just, I’m conflicted.”

”Conflicted over what?” He cocked an eyebrow as you flushed. “Tell me.”

You gulped down some water before running a hand through your hair. “I just, us.” Satoru perked up. “I know I hired you to be my wedding date and all. But I like you.” You chugged more of the water down like it gave you courage. “And it’s not only because you’re super fucking hot. I also like talking to you, god I love talking to you.” Satoru’s cheeks flushed, watching you closely. “But what is the cherry on top of the sundae of you being everything I’d want in a partner is the fact that you came running for me today.”

”Y/N—“

”You dropped everything and came running to me. Like a scene from a Rom-Com.” Your nails clanked nervously over the glass, your gaze drifting toward the awe-struck Satoru. “I know I hired you, and this is your line of work. But I can't stop thinking about the kisses—mmmph!”

Before you could finish your last word, Satoru grabbed your face, kissing you deeply. His fingers gripped your chin but shifted to hold your cheek in his hand, cupping it gently. With wide eyes, you slowly kissed him back, melting against him.

Satoru slowly pulled away, his thumb moving down, caressing your bottom lip as he looked into your eyes. “I’ve never felt like this about a client before.” He panted softly.

”Really?” You smiled wide as Satoru hummed happily.

”That day we talked on the phone, I knew there was something different about you. Something I want to explore.” You giggled, tears forming in your eyes as he wiped them away. “So, what do you say we order dessert here for a little date?”

You looked around before shaking your head. “No.” Satoru’s face went pale as he looked you over, searching for an explanation. “The dessert here is shit, let’s go back to the inn, and I’ll make us something?” Satoru's breath was full of relief as he stood up, grabbing your hand tight.

”You are such a brat.”

Despite being a brat, Satoru followed you back to the inn. He watched with curious eyes as you moved around the clean kitchen. You were pulling out mixing bowls, cream, and chilled sheet cake. Your tiny hands so gracefully washed strawberries, your touch gentle as if they would fall apart if you handled them any other way.

Everything you did was done with skills he did not possess. Slicing strawberries, cutting the vanilla cake into the perfect symmetrical cubes. Satoru found himself under a spell as he watched your every move. God, you looked so gorgeous in a zone like this. Your smile, the way you move with purpose, focused on constructing the dessert you promised him.

You peeked at him from the corner of your eye. He grinned as he rose from his seat, striding towards you as you poured heavy whipping cream into the stand mixer before switching it on at medium speed. Satoru had a certain gleam in his eyes as he oh’d and awed at the cream inside the mixer. He was so fascinated, and he looked like a child in a candy store.

You tapped his shoulder, handing him a small vial. “Want to help me? You can put the vanilla in.” Satoru eagerly took it, opening it. He sniffed the bottle before looking down at you.

“Give me a hand?”

“Sure,” your hand slowly ran over the top of his, “just do a little bit.” The two of you poured some vanilla into the mixing bowl. A rich smell wafted up in the air. “Was this just an excuse for me to touch your hand?”

“What?” His tone was full of faux confusion. “No, never.” He quickly put the vial of vanilla down, his fingers interlacing with yours as he pulled you into his side. “What's the next step, chef?”

“We add in sugar.” You worked your culinary magic, sweetening the whipped cream. “And that is how I make my whipped cream; I use it at the bakery.”

“I love the whipped cream at the Ichigo Cafe.” Satoru groaned out, looking into the bowl. “So fluffy and sweet!”

You tapped your fingers on the bowl. “Why don't you taste it? Tell me if it's sweet enough for you. Mr. Six packets of sugar in my coffee.” He turned to face you, resting his hand on his hip with a smirk.

“I am not at all ashamed of my likes, Y/N.” he pulled the top of the mixer up. “I like my treats sweet; I am the Gordon Ramsey of desserts!”

“Satoru, watch out for the switch!”

Satrou smacked the switch while scooping a finger full of whipped cream. The whisk attachment spun around several times, splattering the two of you with bloats of sweetened cream. Satoru quickly turned it off, looking around at the white mess.

A big blob of whipped cream fell off his nose, smacking into the metal table. The sound, his eyes slowly glancing at it, and the stunned look on his face knocked over your giggle box. Your head tilted back as rich, warm laughter flooded the kitchen. Making Satoru melt as he wiped the whipped cream off his face, licking it off his fingers.

The sight of his fingers dipping into his mouth. Had you choking on your laughter? Cerulean eyes burned as he slowly pulled his finger out, smirking. His thumb brushed out your lip, smearing whipped cream over it. The action had you breathing heavily.

“Tastes sweet, but I think you're sweeter.” He leaned down, his lips brushed over your cheek. “Ten times sweeter.”

You closed the distance this time. Pusjingnhis back against the table. Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him down and deepening the kiss—the taste of your whipped cream lingering on his tongue. Your sudden boldness had Satoru stumbling, eyes wide as you shoved Your tongue in his mouth, much like he had done to you earlier.

He whined, shutting his eyes tight as he grabbed Your hips, pulling you tight against him. “You're so beautiful, god Y/N.” He whispered in between heated kisses. “I think I started falling for you since that first phone call.” His honesty had you whining against his lips as he sucked and nipped at your bottom lip.

“Satoru~”

“God, I want you; I want you so bad, Y/N.”

Your heart lurched into your throat as you pulled away, staring into those blue eyes you were falling for. Satoru wanted you. He legitimately wanted you. Not just to take you out on a date, but he wanted you in ways you hadn't been wanted in a very long time. Ways you told yourself and Satoru you didn't need. But the desperation in his kisses, how his tongue moved against yours, and the hard bulge growing in his pants had your heart thundering, utterly breathless, and oh-so-wet

“Toru.” He groaned, trailing kisses over your neck, his hand squeezing your hips. “Toru.”

He pulled back, shutting his eyes tight as he rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth. “Sorry,” he sighed, “I’m sorry as much as I want you. I don't want to rush you.” Your hands trailed over his toned stomach, fingers undoing the button to his jeans.

“Toru, take me to our room.”

Tag list: (AGE MUST BE IN BIO!!)

@arminloverlol @jamzywiththejam28 @gojoful @maskedpacific @ahseyy @kash77 @sadmonke @ari-maccha @sugurubabe @hyori2 @bluechocolatemint @itsinherited @dellappatca @therealestpussyeater @dead-at-tokyo @nvrgojover @drakenswifeyy @nealeart @yunho-leeknow @fire-child-kira @faeryminnyx @tqd4455 @harmonyflora @volkins181-blog @noukstmblr @lovely212 @stinkinstuffie @desihopelessromantic @witchbybirth @sonicsolos @lilbiguy @supsiii @rentheannihilator

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tangerinesilk · 8 months

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－ DISTRACTION : DAVE LIZEWSKI

dave was a great study buddy, but there's no doubt he was a distraction. he constantly made you turn your head twice at whatever he said or did whether it was some comic book character he rambled about or how his pale blue eyes shined under the warm lighting of his desk lamp.

pairing ✷ college!dave lizewski x college!fem!reader

rating ✷ r (18+ minors dni!)

tropes ✷ friends with benefits, spicy but no / little plot, unspoken love, domestic toward eachother but no dating, dorky and awkward people in love who just wont admit it theyre in love (sort of) | nsfw warnings below!

word count ✷ 1.7k

a/n ✷ um this was a random thought and it just sort of happened. stg it feels like i blacked out while writing this KSKFFKS what is going on with me. anyways been wanting to write about this cute dork for a while and why not make it really hot. posting now so i dont chicken out but ill edit later.... i always love feedback! xo

[ steamy warnings: mentions of public sex, dom & sub switches, p in v without protection, nipple play, hj + bj, f receiving oral from m, praising + heavy dirty talk, face sitting, finishing inside v ]

typical weekends: saturday night at dave's apartment.

dave was explaining something... it was something. something important, but all you could focus on was his pretty eyes and how soft his lips looked today. he pushed his glasses up more on his nose bridge again, looking down at his book for one of his college classes.

he was so into the subject, you didn't even have to nod. you were occasionally tapping the eraser end of your pencil against your blank notebook, only listening to every other word.

suddenly, your mind wanders to when you two were doing laundry at three in the morning and got a little spontaneous. then getting a bit handsy on the top floor of the library where no one usually was. maybe even the time when you were visiting him back home for one weekend and you both could barely keep it together with company downstairs.

ever since you both agreed on this friends with benefits agreement, your dry spells were no longer an issue. it seemed like both of you were touched starved, but not wanting to meet other people, strangers you didnt want or need to know.

so, after becoming lab partners in your fall semester of senior year, its been nonstop seeing each other. not just for sex, but hanging out to study, going to local comic book stores and libraries, even the occasional dinner and sleepover combo at his apartment or yours.

it seemed like a wild card at first, but you would never admit (outloud) to dave lizewski that you underestimated how great his tongue felt inside your pus—

"y/n, are you even listening?"

you cleared your throat, "hmm?"

he chuckled, "so you weren't... i know, its kind of boring."

now you felt bad, caught up from going down memory lane and he was excited about his new class.

you ran your hand over his curls, "im sorry, dave. my mind was wandering."

he turned, seeming interested, "about what?"

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, "about... you know..." you trailed then shrugged, "stuff."

dave smiled, "oh yeah? you weren't, i dont know, thinking about me?"

you had seen this confidence grow inside dave as more time passed, and you weren't sure if it was cockiness, but you couldn't deny how cute yet attractive it was on him.

"why dont you go back to what you were rambling about? please. im all ears now." you lean in, placing your hands underneath your chin with your elbows on his desk.

its ironic how his full size bed was behind the two of you yet here you are, acting like this was the first time you've hung out.

he pressed wet kisses against your inner thighs, your clit aching for his mouth as his nose brushed against your skin. he'd let out a nervous chuckle as he noticed the wet spot forming on the center of your panties. you'd bite your bottom lip as he licked his lips, in awe of the mess you were for him.

dave pulled down your panties, shuffling them down your ankles before tossing them to the side. his strong hands run up the top of your thighs before holding your hips, pulling your core closing to his mouth. after his first, yet hesitant, kiss on your clit, you let out a faint moan.

soon his tongue was running over your open slit and tasting your sweet wetness. you arched your back, leaning back on his desk as he flicked your clit a few times. when he pushes his tongue inside you, a rush of heat runs over your entire body. you caress your own breasts and pull at your own nipples as he picks up his pace.

"fuck... god, yes. eat my fucking pussy." you whimpered. he got so weak when you uttered your sweet nothings. as dominant as he thought he presented himself, dave was a sucker for you.

just when you thought it couldn't get better, he slide his two fingers into your slit as his tongue flicks your swollen clit. you told him how you love when he curled his fingers inside you, knuckle deep and gathering your wetness every pump as he brought you closer to your orgasm.

your hips grind against his mouth and hand, painfully near your climax. he cursed under his breath as he felt your pussy clench around his digits. he pulls his mouth away from your clit, trailing more kisses over your stomach then rolls his tongue against your right nipple.

his hand still worked your slit, thrusting so fast that your head was spinning along with the pleasure of him sucking your erect nipple. you glanced down, seeing how his hard pressed against his khakis. just the thought of taking his cock into your mouth made you dizzy, bucking your hips against his fingers.

"yes... make me cum. i wanna fucking cum on your fingers." you muttered under your breath, pulling at his curls. dave's knees were giving out as he held his position but he loved to hear your continous begging.

he was about to see if he could pick up his pace before your hand reached down, sliding into the front of his stained pants and caressing his hard cock. he grunted against your chest, instantly weak from your touch which made him pause.

"hmm, what about i cum on your cock instead?" you giggled as your lips met his, "it's so hard... bet you've been thinking about cumming inside my tight pussy, huh, dave?"

he sighed, "shit..."

"that's what i thought, baby." you say before taking his fingers into your mouth, tasting your own cum. he takes a mental picture even though you've done this in your previous hookups.

you hop off the desk, playfully pushing him on his twin size bed. you slowly get on your knees, running your hand over the crotch of his pants that were already unbuttoned and half unzipped. it's easy for your pull his cock out, practically springing from his briefs.

his eyes are glued to you as your tongue runs up and down the base before wrapping your lips against his red tip. you half-giggle when you taste his pre-cum, then carefully take him all in your mouth. you gag a bit as his tip pushes further in, and he groans when your throat tightens around him.

you push your tongue out to make sure your teeth dont graze his cock as you deep throat him, incredibly slow, so he can watch in awe. he leans up on his elbows, falling apart as you take him in your mouth so easily and your hand pumping the rest of his base.

"fucking christ... fuck." he muttered, his dick twitching inside your mouth as your salvia runs down when you gag on his hard.

his hand runs over your hair, gathering it together to keep it out of your face— also to have a better view of him receiving one of the best blowjobs you've given him.

when you pull your mouth away, you giggle as you pump his cock with your spit lubricating for better motion. his face screws together the faster you pump, and he can barely take the pleasure.

"hmm, i bet you wanna cum on my face... and tits. but, i want you to cum inside me." you say as you but your bottom lip, running your thumb over the cum leaking from his tip.

"me too, baby. fuck!" he grunts, and it makes you smile at how much of a mess he is too.

you rise from your knees, relieving the pressure on them before straddling him on his bed. you pull off your top, tossing it on the other side of the room as he quickly peels his shirt off as well. his big hands run up your body, over your breasts once more as his thumbs move against your nipples.

"god, i want to feel every inch of your cock... so, don't stop until you're finished." you tell him as you run his tip agaisnt your slit before slowly sinking down on him.

"babe, shit... fuck." he whimpered, his fingers pressing into your hips as you arch your back.

"god, im so tight." you moan, "your cock is so big... can barely fit you inside me." you huff, your eyes closed shut as you slowly move your hips.

soon, you meet a nice pace of bouncing on his cock and he loosens up as he watches you move up and down. his bright eyes keep moving between looking at your tits and your face, completely amazed by your beauty.

you run your hands over his toned chest and abdomen, leaving light scratches on his skin from the waves of pleasure coursing throughout your body.

"dave, im gonna cum. oh, oh! i'm gonna cum." you announced to him and he was holding off anyways, his jaw clenched his much that it was beginning to feel painful.

as you arch your back and let out a long whine, he stills his hips as his warm cum fills you up. it was the first time he was fully inside you, and you were aching around his cock, feeling it throbbing against your walls.

he leans up, leaving a soft kiss just above your breasts before you two share another kiss. you can't help but giggle, both of you feeling that sudden hit of exhaustion.

you lift yourself from your cock and cum runs down your slit, letting him see the mess he made. dave smirks, expecting him to say that he'll get you a towel but instead licks his lips and starts to lean down between your legs again.

it was like deja vu. his tongue presses against your swollen slit, tasting your mixed cum before sucking on your sore clit. now you're so sensitive to the touch, you could orgasm again at any moment. he was so in tune with your body that he knew what pace to go and how long you could actually lasts.

you run your hands over your breasts, his tongue moving so perfectly between your slit and clit. you feel his press a light kiss against the area above your pussy before trailing more kisses up your body. then, you two shared another kiss, tasting each other's tongues once more before he laid next to you.

"you know, i've never had a study partner like you." you jeered, pressed a kiss against the start of his jaw.

he blushed, "me neither..." he raised his eyebrows, "trust me."

#dave lizewski #dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski smut #dave lizewski x you #kick ass

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arminsumi · 8 months

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it's the hair.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 ⋅ fem reader

NOTE: lol this is just a dum fluff drabble i wrote instead of studying

SUMMARY — your childhood friend and classmate satoru positively kills you with his new haircut. but he misunderstands your reactions and behaviors, thinking he did something wrong.

WARNINGS — lowercase used, not proofread, misunderstandings between u n gojo, angst if you squint ??

WORDCOUNT ≈ 1.3k

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

you've been eyeing out gojo all day. he's not sure what to make of your expression — it's something mixed between comical worry and genuine distress.

"what? what is it?" he keeps asking you each time you give him the side eye look-over. "do i have something on my face?"

"no. it's nothing." you reply curtly.

he squints skeptically at you.

from class to class, he ponders alongside suguru. did he say something? were you mad at him? was it because he stole your soda from the vending machine yesterday? but he always does that, so why would you be mad now? maybe you were just not feeling well? did you not sleep well?

and suguru's ears flooded with all these theories.

"did i say something to y/n? she's acting strange today."

his best friend stifles a smirk. "dunno, did you?"

"i think she's mad at me. was it because i stole her soda? but y'know it's not my fault we like the same soda! and i promised to buy one for her next time!"

suguru now lowers his head into his arms, resting on the desk, trying so hard to keep his laughter in.

"maybe it's the weather — probably the flu — yeah, definitely the flu. i'll go get something for y/n at the store, d'you need anything, suguru? what! what are you laughing at!"

"nothing, nothing. i don't need anything from the store, thanks — unless maybe something spicy that catches your eye. 'better run quick, store's gonna close soon."

satoru furrows his brows in confusion, and eventually his entire expression becomes serious, like an old philosopher in deep thought about the universe. but it's not the abyssal void beyond the stratosphere that's in his thoughts, no, it's you — you're pervading his entire mind as he walks across the roads of tokyo, to the station, and boards the train.

holding onto the handles as it shudders and sways, shoulders taught as they always are when he's in thought. were you really sick? what if he did something bad? maybe it was nothing at all, and he was just overthinking it. maybe it didn't even involve him. did it have to do with suguru? or perhaps you were upset about something in the past, something irrational and long-forgotten, like the fact that he didn't attend your 7th birthday party. it's not like he had a choice, his parents barely allowed him to visit your side because they didn't want their prodigy son hanging out with...

he texts you.

satoru — are u home yet

he stares and waits for you to come online, then watches as those three dots move up and down and you start typing.

you — no why

satoru — where are u

you — bridge

satoru — what are u doing

you — lol so many questions

you — the sunset looks rlly good today i'm taking pics

satoru — wtf without me??

you — lol sorry didn't think u wanted to waste ur time watching the sunset

satoru — see u there

he's just boarding off the train, coming through its doors, when he texts you that. thank the benefit of his long legs for speeding to the store in time before it closes. he picks up your favorite.

when you see him come into view, you're waiting with your arms draped around the railing of the bridge.

"trying out for the track team?" you laugh, as he practically runs up to you. "did you run this whole way?"

he's catching his breath, clutching a plastic bag of goodies.

"are you sick?" he asks.

"what? no?"

"i thought you might have the flu." he's asking with genuine concern, it's bizarre. he usually doesn't talk like this unless he knows he's in trouble with you, or if something's really wrong.

"i'm fine." you blink, "i've just been watching the sunset. you missed the best part."

"i didn't know you enjoyed sunsets."

"why didn't you invite me!" he groans, coming over to assume an oddly attractive position by the railing. he slacks against the metal, leaning his weight on it. he lets the plastic bag with yours and suguru's favorites in it thud to the ground.

the cityscape is so pretty, and yet he's still prettier, you think.

"i don't care for them." he admits, "but of course i'll enjoy a sunset if you're watching it with me."

you look at him. he's not even facing the sunset. was something on his mind? you can hardly theorize, because you're giving him that peculiar look again.

he catches you looking at him, "what!"

"what?"

"did i do something wrong?" his breath is stable now, "are you mad at me?"

"no? why d'you think I'm mad at you?" you ask confusedly.

"because you keep lookin' at me like that!"

"like what?" you feel your cheeks warm up.

"like something about me is offensive to your eyes."

you break out laughing. "no! i'm not — it's not — you misunderstand me, like always..."

"what the hell?" he whines, "is it nothing serious? i've been worried. you've been looking at me weird since sunday and — oh... OH MY GOD."

you giggle, chin pressing on the railing. "did you just realize something?"

"is it the haircut!"

"it's the haircut."

"why do you not like it!" he fumes, that familiar satoru playfulness coming back now as he was put at ease knowing he didn't upset you. "you know it cost a lot, 'n i styled it and everything."

"i didn't say i didn't like it! it's the opposite."

"so you like it? then why do you look at me like you're having an internal crisis?"

you groan, "because you're giving me a crisis! you know i'm weak for undercuts!"

he shuts up. his heart races a bit. oh, so he misunderstood you not a little bit but entirely. oops. now why didn't he realize that his haircut would have this effect on you? when he subconsciously went to get an undercut because you mentioned you liked them in passing one school afternoon.

"oh."

"you're so dumb, satoru."

"well sorry!" he rolls his eyes.

now there's silence. he stops leaning his back against the railing and turns to face the final stages of the sunset. the streetlights come on, one is gleaming not too far from you two. it casts a dreamy light on his hair.

it really is a good cut, and it's styled in such a way that... well it gets your daydreams going, let's just say that. and here gojo was worried when he came out of the salon, thinking it was too short now. truthfully, it was a bit short compared to his other haircuts, but he wore it well. of course he did.

"so you like it?"

"i love it."

"well if you love it, then show it love." he teases.

"what on earth d'you mean?" you laugh shortly.

"fluff my hair." he says.

"no way, lice-boy."

"hey!" he pinches your cheek in retaliation, and your reaction endears him as much as it always has since you two were kids. "that was one time, i haven't ever had lice again."

he pouts. you look over. he is pouting. pouting. he's a nineteen year old boy pouting about not getting his hair fluffed by his childhood friend who he maybe sorta kinda has a crush on.

and then he encourages you. he leans his head on your shoulder. his hair tickles your cheek.

"damn. you're like an attention-starved cat." you joke.

he places your hand on his head himself. the brief warmth and glimpse at the size difference between his hand and your hand made him giddy.

you ruffle his hair lightly, and then he wears a satisfied smile. now early night has settled. it's quiet at the bridge except for the distant city sounds and lull of the highway.

"i was really worried that i did something wrong." he admits.

"i'm sorry."

he sighs, snuggling your shoulder. there's a nice silence between you and him.

then he breaks it.

"hey, i didn't say stop fluffing." his deep voice reverbs in your chest. he's playful and lively, but you can tell he's also tired from running all the way here.

"you're a menace." you tell him.

"but you like me, right?" it's more of an insecure question. he wants to hear you say it back, not as a playful joke.

"of course i do."

"good, good."

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madlittlecriminal · 9 months

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could i request cockwarming w jonathan crane? like maybe he's had a stressful day and you fuck it out of him, but when you're about to pull off he grabs you and just... asks you to stay right there, with him inside of you... 😞 i'm so down bad for him it's not even funny...

Stress Relief ↦ Jonathan Crane × Female!Reader

anon, i get it. trust me, im down bad for him too. i was like 4 or 5 when i saw the first movie (Batman Begins) even though i was 3 when it came out and i could say he was one of my first celebrity crushes. im 21 now & Cillian Murphy is still a celebrity crush, so...yeah...little me had taste lol

y'all, why did i roleplay with one of his bots and they gonna say he had blonde hair- as far as i know, he was never blonde in general (comics, games, animated series/tv shows and/or movies) i was so disappointed.

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, praise, unprotected p in v, cockwarming, there's like no plot at all, i listened to a lot of spicy songs while writing this...IN BOTH ENGLISH & SPANISH

You saw it on his face when he walked into the house; your boyfriend was stressed. You've been together for almost 2 years, so you lived together and you also knew what relieved his stress.

"Jonathan?" He took off his blazer before looking over at you, taking off his vest. You looked down at his tie before pulling it and bringing him towards you. "You need to relax, baby." You pressed your lips onto his and he quickly reciprocated. His hand rested on your cheek, and you got on top of him, taking off tie and unbuttoning his shirt. You took off his shirt and he quickly rested his hands on your hips.

His hands slid from your hips and under your shirt, before taking it off and kissing your neck. You tilt your head to the side, biting your lip as he nibbled on your neck gently, not wanting to mark you; you both agreed it was better when they couldn't be seen. He unclasped your bra, letting it glide down your arms before kissing and sucking on one before doing the same to the other. You let out a small whimper, him humming in pleasure as he heard your little noise.

Your hands went to his belt, undoing it and his hands fixed your flowy skirt so it covered him. He felt your arousal soaking through your panties, so he knew you more than ready for him. You undid his button and his zipper before he stopped you. "Just take it out, darling. I can't wait anymore." His whisper against your chest made you bite your lip, doing as he said. "Hope these aren't your favorites." Before you could say anything, you heard a rip and let out a breathy laugh. "They weren't. Don't worry." He chuckled, sliding into you without a hassle. After nearly 2 years, you didn't really need to adjust to him as much as you did the first few times.

However, you still loved how he filled you up and pleased you like no one else has.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulder as you bounced on him. "Fuck baby," Jonathan moaned, his hands wrap around your hips as he thrusted into you. "Feels so good inside me, Jon." He bit his lip at your words. "Yeah, darling? You take me so good like the good girl you are." You moan at his words, his lips finding yours as he groans, feeling you clench around him. "Just like that, darling. Let me feel how good praises make you feel." He goes back to kissing you as his fingers go to your clit, playing with it as you continue to bounce on him. He breaks the kiss, tearing his glasses off of his face before meeting your lips once more.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, tugging slightly as he fucks you and plays with your clit. Your eyes widened when he adjusted himself quickly, reaching your sensitive spot, making you let out a moan loud enough for all of Gotham to hear. "Are you gonna come, darling?" You nod as best as you could, knowing your voice would betray you. "Come all over my cock, darling." You pull his hair, pulling him closer to you as you came on his cock. He continued, his thrusts getting sloppy before he came inside you.

As you both tried catching your breaths, he pulled you into a weak kiss. After you felt your heart rate begin to go back to normal, you began to pull yourself off of him, but he gripped your hips, making you stop your movements. "Stay," Jonathan's soft yet raspy voice spoke as your eyes met his blue ones. "You feel so warm, darling, I don't want you to move yet."

"Okay," Jonathan fixed himself, the small shift making you whimper at the movement in your sensitive core. "Sorry darling." You giggle as he pulled you closer to him, rubbing your back slowly as you rest your head on his. "That's okay, Jonny. Are you comfortable?" He chuckled. "You have no idea." His lips met yours in another kiss, making you clench around him. He groaned into the kiss, shaking his head. "Not yet, darling. Let me enjoy your warmth." You nodded, brushing some of his hair out of his face. "Did I relieve your stress?" He nodded. "You always do, but we should really just start doing this. It feels fantastic."

"I'll keep that in mind the next time you come home stressed out."

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x y/n #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane smut #scarecrow #scarecrow x y/n #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x you #dc universe #asks #ask #anonymous #anon asks #anon ask #anonymous asks #anon

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buckttommy · 3 months

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mmmmhhhh.... Timothy Minear is lurking around here somewhere so here is my official Season 7/Season 8 wishlist (make sure you ✍🏾 write it down TIM):

i am Once Again asking for henren to foster a black teenage girl. think of the possibilities.

Ravi Begins. need i say more. actually i DO need to say more because he's not LEFTOVERS from the refrigerator TIMOTHY. he is BELOVED.

lucy can come back. for an episode or two. BUT. she has to be in a near-death situation because i think that would be kinda spicy ngl.

I AM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES EATING DIRT BEGGING TO MEET EDDIE'S SISTERS 😭 YOU CREATED THEM 😭 GIVE THEM TO MEEEEEE 😭😭😭

canon queer eddie. his entire storyline is basically perfect for it in literally every way. canon buddie aside. wouldn't you want to be on the ground floor of something epic and powerful like this? *waggles eyebrows* i know you wanna

a Bobby storyline that does not center around his addiction at all. man had a roof fall on him in S5. he was exposed to radiation in s2. give me bobby health scare or give me DEATH (do NOT actually kill him otherwise i will slit my throat ok i wont but i WILL spend the rest of my life in hell. you don't want to do that to me timothy do you? i didn't think so)

paramedic buck???? 👀👀👀 or at least buck THINKING about being a paramedic. why??? why the hell NOT is a better question. 🤔 🧐

i am once again asking for a nonbinary addition to the firefam but i know you won't

athena quits her j- [i am pulled off the stage by a comically large hook]

more hen/chim + karen/chim shenanigans because i need my emotional support besties to get me through all the angst (?) of this season

firefam firefam firefam firefam firefam firefam firefam firefam firefam firefam firefam firefam firefam firefam firefam firefam firefam firefam firefam firefam firefam firefam firefam firef

uh i dunno. buddie i guess.

this is my wishlist. you don't even have to credit me for it.

#*nods* yeah #jack.txt #tv: 911 #tim minear #7a speculation #7b speculation

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lo-vearchive · 10 months

Text

Forgive Me (Pt. 2)

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x female reader

Summary: After reconciling in your bedroom, Miguel disappears on you for a week. Giving up on any hopes of romance, your friends plan a night out for you to cheer up. Too bad your boss makes an appearance and catches you with an attractive stranger on a stormy night. Read Part One: here

Word Count: 4463 words

Content: Miguel being a rude bastard, Miguel asking for forgiveness (again), arguments, possessiveness, alcohol consumption, tobacco consumption, 18+ (minors DNI), no p in v but things get spicy at the end, female fingering, finger sucking, misogyny, insecurity, swearing, hurt and comfort, office sex (no p in v), questionable Spanish

Note: ANGST! Got carried away once again. Lowkey not proofread. I love angst and Miguel being vulnerable. If you are into angst, you will enjoy this. Feel free to correct my Spanish and ask for any other cw to be added. Thank you for the 1K+ notes on Pt. 1. Have fun, horndogs ;)

It has been seven days since you last saw Miguel O’Hara.

After spending a full 48 hours by your side, he had gone back to work. You decided to join him at Alchemax the next day but found his office empty. At first, you thought he was occupied with Spider-Man business, so you kept yourself busy with answering his overflowing email box. Slowly the sun set behind the skyline of Nueva York and the messages ran out, leaving behind a feeling of uneasiness in your stomach.

You [sent Friday, 6 pm]: Hey, are you coming to work today?

You [sent Friday, 10 pm]: I’m going home for the night. Call me when you are home. I miss you :)

You [sent Saturday, 5 am]: Are you okay?

You [sent Saturday, 1 pm]: I’m getting really worried. Where are you?

You [sent Saturday, 5 pm]: I emailed you in case you lost your phone. Call me asap.

You [sent Sunday, 7 pm]: I’ll see you at work tomorrow.

You [sent Monday, 9 am]: Lyla said you’re okay but won’t tell me what’s going on. Says I don’t have clearance. Please call me.

You [sent Monday 10 am]: Are you actually ignoring me?

You [sent Tuesday, 1 am]: My best friend you’re an asshole and I should never let you near my pussy ever again.

You [sent Tuesday 1:23 am] Are you ghosting me? You know we work together, right?

You [sent Tuesday, 3:30 am]: I hate you Miguel O’Hara.

Friday rolled around and your best friend had enough of your drunk late-night facetime calls. She gathered a group of your high school girlfriends and decided a night out in the town would be the perfect remedy. “Fuck him, babe,” Katy states, sliding a shot glass across the table. “You should report him to HR for being an ass.”

You laughed and tipped the glass into your mouth. The tequila burnt its way down your throat. “I’m just going to find a new job. I can’t be dealing with this shit right now.”

Your friend Soo let out a burp. “Did you let him hit it?”

You shake your head. “No,” you cough. “We came close to it, like above the pants stuff— do you think that’s why he’s ignoring me? Because I didn’t put out right away?”

“Bitch,” Katy chides, slapping the tabletop, “be fucking for real. You look like a busty, hot secretary from some comic book. He should be lucky you let him touch your tits!”

Your friends nodded along in agreement. Katy grabs the sides of your chair and spins it around, facing you to the restaurant bar. “You see that guy there?” she points at a man with messy blond hair in an open-collar white shirt. “He’s been eyeing you all night. Go talk to him right now.”

The tequila must have heightened your bravery as you found yourself walking across the dimly lit restaurant and to the wall. Stealing a glance at him from the corner of your eye, you ask the bartender for, “a rum and coke please.”

“You can add her drink to my tab,” the man says just like you hoped he would. “I hope you don’t mind. I saw your friends fussing over you earlier and you looked like you needed a drink.”

“Is it that obvious?” You ask, letting out a laugh. “You’re right, I do need a little pick-me-upper tonight.”

“My name is John,” he says.

You introduced yourself and slide in the empty seat next to him. “So, what’s going on with you?” he questions, sipping his beer.

You carefully lift your drink from the bar top and circled the rim with your index finger. “I’m not sure if I wanna’ trauma dump on a stranger.”

“Sometimes talking to strangers helps.”

You contemplate his words and sigh. Your friends would kick you if you said the name Miguel O’Hara again in their general vicinity. You chose to divulge a little to the mystery man. “Things got a bit complicated with someone I really cared about. Everything was going well and then he disappeared suddenly, and I don’t know why.”

John listens to you carefully, nodding to himself. “You know what I do when I’m confused?”

“What?”

“I take a smoke break to chill out,” he answers, standing up. “Care to join me?”

You downed the contents of your glass and follow him out a door that open to a back alley behind the restaurant. Rain pours down heavily, and you both huddle under a dingy metal shed. The cold air bites your arms sharply as John lights the end of his cigarette and brings it to his mouth. “It can be frustrating when you’re left without answers but a girl like you has nothing to worry about.”

You smile at his words. You take the cigarette off his hand and take a drag. The smoke fills your lungs, making your head spin a little. The light-headedness reminds you of how you felt last time when Miguel was in your arms. Airy, free, and light. No matter what you do, all your thoughts lead back to him. You shake away the memories and pass the cigarette back to John.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” a stern voice asks.

A man melts out of the shadows in the alley and into the light shining from a streetlamp above. You recognize him. “Miguel?”

He doesn’t look at you and keeps his eyes focused on John. “Who is he?” he asks with a deep frown.

“Listen, I’m off work right now,” you clear your throat, sticking your nose up in the air. “I don’t have to explain—”

“Look, man,” John interrupts, “no need to get all worked about this. We are just talking.”

Miguel lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, right,” he spits and gets in his face. “You could have done that at the bar. Why the fuck are you out here alone with her? What were you planning on doing?”

“Mr. O’Hara!” you exclaim, stepping in between them. “You are out of line!”

He raises his eyebrows at your formality but keeps his attention on John over your shoulder. “Buddy,” John says, wrapping an arm around your waist and moving you to the side. “She is allowed to talk to whoever she wants. I suggest you leave us alone now.”

The touch doesn’t go unnoticed by Miguel. His nostrils flare and his eyes turned red with anger. He steps closer to John until he is looming over the poor man. You often forget how big your boss is compared to everyone around him. The scene looks almost comical with how John tries to puff out his chest. “Te calmas o te calmo,” (Calm yourself, or I’ll calm you down) Miguel snarls.

Whatever John sees in his face is enough to make him reconsider. He holds his hands up in surrender and backs away slowly. Stopping in front of you he pushes the half-burnt cigarette into your hand and whispers, “If this is the guy you were talking about, then maybe it’s a good thing he disappears. I’ll be inside if you still want to talk.”

He walks away from the alley and into the restaurant, leaving you with Miguel alone in the alley. You watch in silence as his body trembles, and you can’t tell if it’s from anger or the rain hammering away at his back.

He breaks the silence. “So, you’re letting strangers into our private business?”

You snort loudly. “You don’t get to speak to me like that,” you tell him, taking another drag. “Especially after disappearing on me. You can’t just strut back into my life and tell me who I can confide in.”

“I was tending to some urgent matters,” he says, brushing his wet hair away from his forehead. “So I took the time to handle them. I can’t be around you every second of the day acting as your lap dog.”

The heat from the cigarette burns your skin. “What the hell is wrong with you?” you raise your voice, throwing your hands in the air. “You’re acting like I want you on a leash! I just wanted to know you were okay.”

“Clearly I’m okay,” he replies, rolling his eyes.

Your lips tug into a deep scowl at his tone. “Did you ever stop to consider how your actions affected me? How lost and confused I felt waiting by the phone every day?”

“It wasn’t intentional,” Miguel matches your tone. “You know I am a busy man, and that I have responsibilities. But you’d rather live in some fantasy land where I’m just some monster out to hurt you! You can’t begin to understand the weight I carry on my shoulders.”

Anger surges through your body. “How am I supposed to understand when you don’t tell me anything? Hell, your AI knows more about you than I do. It’s like you only care about missions or work and nothing else—”

“Sometimes in life, personal matters have to take a backseat,” he cuts you off, harshly. “Not everyone can put on a short skirt and high heels, waltz into work, type a few memos and then call it a night.”

“You misogynist fuck!” You scream back at him, resisting the urge to slap him silly. “I hate you!”

“I hate you too!” he yells back in your face with bloodshot eyes.

You spin on your heels and begin walking towards the main road. Rage begins to bubble inside you and reaches your throat. You turn around just as you reach the sidewalk and call out, “You know what? It doesn’t matter if you disappear again because I have hated you since the moment I met you. I hated you when everyone at work warned me about you. I hated you all those times you dismissed me like an afterthought. And I hated you when you came to my room that night begging for a second chance. So, I don’t care if you hate me, or think I’m useless or unimportant cause have hated you longer and harder and for better fucking reasons!”

You take another drag from the cigarette and then crush it underneath your pretty high heels. You make a right at the end of the alley and begin walking up the street. Warm tears spill down your face as you shiver in the rain. Katy was right, he was an asshole. An asshole that made you feel dumb for having a normal job or human emotions. But maybe you were just an idiot for falling in love with a man who didn’t respect you. Love wasn’t supposed to be this hard, but here you were feeling small and crying at the side of the road.

The sound of screeching tires brings you out of your self-pity. A sleek black car pulls up on the other side of the road and the passenger window rolls down. Miguel’s face emerges from behind the glass. “Ven aquí!” (come here) he calls out.

You ignore him and keep walking ahead. You have no idea where you are going, but you would rather eat rocks than speak to him.

From the corner of your eyes, you see Miguel make a sharp left, almost hitting oncoming traffic and pulling up beside you. “Get in the car!”

Your feet don’t stop moving so he slowly inches his car to match your speed. “Estoy harto. (I’m sick of this) Let’s talk!”

Honks and yells filled the night as people grew frustrated with his speed. “Stop,” you hiss, bending down to the window. “You are embarrassing me!”

“Get in the car then,” he says, with a clenched jaw. “You’re gonna’ catch a cold in the rain.”

“Stop pretending like you care,” you snarl, kicking the side of his car.

“A-YO LADY!” a man yells out of his yellow cab. “Get in the damn car! Your boyfriend is holding up traffic!”

A pleased smirk spread across Miguel’s face at the man’s remarks. You let out a frustrated grunt and yanked the door open, slipping into the passenger seat. “Put your seatbelt on,” he says, picking up speed.

You begrudgingly obey but wished that his car would get rear-ended so hard that his fat head would go through the windshield. “You look like you want me dead, babe,” he commented with a nervous laugh.

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, adjusting the belt over your soaking dress. “Where are we going?”

“Back to Alchemax,” he points at the GPS screen. “The freeway flooded, and it will be a while until it clears up. I have a spare set of clothes I keep in the office for overnighters. You can change while we wait for the storm to blow over.”

“I don’t want your charity,” you grumble, crossing my hand over my chest.

“I know,” he says. “I just want to take care of you.”

You disliked how your stomach felt at his words. “I left my bag behind at the restaurant.”

“I picked it up, it’s in the back seat.”

“I didn’t pay my tab.”

“It’s taken care of. Your friends know you’re fine, too. Just relax.”

Miguel leans over to turn your seat warmer on and warmth spreads across your chest and down your limbs. He drives in silence with only the soft white noise of radio static playing in the background. Occasionally you tear your gaze away from the furiously working windshield wipers and steal glances at his face. The headlights from other cars make the slopes of his cheek and the plumpness of his lips visible even on a stormy night. His warm complexion has turned pale, and you ponder if it was because of your interaction earlier.

You both pull up into the Alchemax parking lot and get out of the car. The security team must be watching through the cameras, wondering why one of their lead engineers was coming into work late at night with his drenched secretary. You quickly follow him into the elevator and up to the floor with his office. He opens the office door, and you slide inside into the dark space.

“Lyla,” he calls out and the room illuminates on command. “Lights.”

Miguel walks up to a storage cupboard and retrieves a towel in one hand and fresh clothes in the other. He passes them to you, and you quietly enter the adjacent washroom to change. You peel your damp dress off your skin and shiver as the chilly air hits you all over. Rubbing the towel quickly over your cold skin, you slip into an oversized t-shirt and shorts. It takes two knots of the drawstring, but you manage to keep the waistband tied around your naval.

You find Miguel waiting for you outside. He had changed into a shirt that hugged his slender waist and pants that hung dangerously low under his taut stomach. He pulls the towel out of your hand and drapes it over your head. His hands gently rub the threads against your wet hair in soft, circular motions. You lean into his touch involuntarily. “I can do it myself,” you complain but made no move to reach for the fabric.

“I know,” he replies. “I want to do it for you.”

“Please don’t.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re doing that thing again,” you said, “and it’s messing with my head.”

“What thing?”

“The thing where you start acting kind after being mean,” you explain in a small voice. “I don’t like it. It’s confusing”

He tugs the towel back so you can look into each other’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” he speaks, gently. “I just lost my shit when I saw you with him.”

“You cut off all contact when all I wanted was to know if you were okay,” your voice shakes as you stare at your feet. “You left me all alone, what was I supposed to do? Wait for you to change your mind?”

“I know I messed up, baby. I was wrong” he sighs, inching down his forehead to meet yours. “I should have communicated with you, but sometimes on missions, things get complicated. I don’t always like the things I have to do, and recently I’m having a difficult time making peace with it. It’s like the harder I try to do the right thing, the more damage I do. So sometimes, it’s just better to be alone rather than pretend I’m okay around other people.”

His words hurt your heart. You knew that his missions take a toll on him. In the past whenever you tried to inquire about its contents he wouldn’t answer. You wouldn’t push, afraid that he’d pull away, but it seems that he was pulling away regardless.

“When you’re gone,” you clear your throat, trying to speak through your narrowing trachea, “I worry that you might be laying dead in some universe, and I’d be none the wiser. I know that being Spider-Man is a sacrifice, but I don’t care about the world. I only care about you. So, when you treat me this way, it’s like I can’t breathe.”

He cups your face and places a soft kiss right on your cheekbone “Forgive me.”

“You say that a lot,” you remind him with a frown.

“I know,” he nods, “and I still mean it. I’m just an idiot who doesn’t know how to find the balance in life. I love that you care about me, and I want you to continue caring about me.”

“I don’t know, Mr. O’Hara,” you said. “I can’t ignore the way you speak to me at times. It feels as if you think we’re not equals. I am not some idiot. I am not beneath you just because I work under you.”

He groaned at the sound of his last name. Every time you called him that, it made the space between feel bigger. “I have seen a million universes, nena, (babe) and you are not beneath me in any of them,” he curls a damp strand behind your ear, “Unless we are in bed, then you’re definitely under me.”

“Miguel!” you chide, punching him in the stomach. “No es broma! (It’s not a joke) I’m being serious!”

He lets out an oof and backs away. His fangs poke out from underneath his curled lips and in that moment, he looks as carefree. He wraps his large hands around your arms and holds your attention. “I know broken trust isn’t easily mendable, but I’m going to try my hardest. I won’t leave you out in the dark or make you feel small. I’ll think twice before I open my stupid mouth. I’ll even ask Lyla to give you full access to my missions. Wh-when you see what I have to do- what I must do, please don’t hate me.”

“Miggy,” you pout, reaching for his face. “I was really, really angry when I said those things to you. I can never hate you. My heart won’t let me.”

His toothy grin appears again, and Miguel draws you into him. His smooth lips find yours and he cranes your head back to find the angle that leaves you breathless. You run the pads of your thumb gently across the slopes of his cheeks. It never ceased to surprise you that his skin was so soft under his stubble. Without breaking your kiss, your shuffle back and walk him to his desk chair. You smile into his lips as he shakes his head when you move him back and down to sit. His hands wrap around your wrists. “D-don’t leave,” he cries out.

You shake your head and take a seat on his lap with your legs dangling off the side. Miguel’s hands find your jaw and he turns your mouth to his. You wrap your fingers in his hair and tug him closer. You let out a content hum as his fangs softly dig into your lips, breaking the skin. The taste of metal fills your mouth, and you pull away to look at him. He sits in your embrace, with red-stained lips and is just as breathless. “Sorry,” he sheepishly says. “I usually have them under control. It’s just you’re in my office and in my clothes. It’s making my head spin a little.”

You laugh at his words and gently pull his hair back. Pressing a wet kiss to his exposed throat you ask, “Miggy, how come we haven’t had sex yet?”

“Honestly?” he lets out a choked moan.

“Honestly,” you hum, licking his jaw.

His hands suddenly grab you by the elbows and spin you around on his lap, so his chest is facing your back. His warm breath hits the nape of your neck. A shiver runs down your spine. “I haven’t fucked you yet because once I’m inside you,” he whispers into your ear, “I’ll never want to be anywhere else. I wouldn’t want to eat, sleep, work, or be Spider-Man. I think I’ll just want to stay buried in you all the time.”

“Miguel,” you moan, clutching your thighs together.

“Tsk-tsk,” he clicks his tongue. “Don’t hide from me.”

His large hand slips between your thighs and pushes your legs apart. He turns the chair around until you’re both facing his work desk. “Up,” he commands, slapping the side of your thighs.

You gingerly obey and place your bare feet on the edge of his desk. His hands slip under your shirt, and he fumbles with the knot. Impatient with the knots, he uses a sharp claw to cut through the drawstring. Your breath hitches as he pushes the loose shorts down your legs and off your feet. He wraps his fingers behind your knees and draws your legs apart. He puts his chin over your shoulder and bunches your shirt up to get a good look at your pink underwear. “Baby,” he coos. “You gotta’ let me have this once we are done. A little souvenir for when I’m away.”

Your stomach tightens at his suggestion. You glance at him and then the office door,. “Someone will see us,” you nervously gulp.

“You let me worry about that,” he says and presses a kiss to the side of your forehead, “and just relax. I’m not gonna’ let anyone else see my girl spread out like this.”

He runs his knuckles down your bare stomach and across the clothed cunt. Electricity shoots up your body and you almost curl up in his arms. Miguel’s fingertips find a quickly dampening spot on the fabric. “Huh,” he huffs. “Is this me or rainwater?”

You cry, arching into his touch.

“I guess it’s just me,” he grins against your shoulder.

He slides your underwear off your legs and tosses it on the table. It lands on a pile of paperwork you had put aside from him earlier in the week. Miguel stops breathing at the sight of your glistening, swollen pussy. A loud moan escapes your throat as his fingers part your folds and glide back and forth. You were sure that the security guards patrolling this floor would have heard you down the hallway. You almost miss his question over the sensations of pleasure spreading through your body.

“Do you want my finger inside you?”

You nod against his cheek and reach behind to clutch a fistful of his hair to brace for impact. He lowers his down until his thick, middle digit is nudging your opening. You must have been soaking his thighs with how easily his digit sinks inside. You bit your lip harshly to contain the sounds threatening to escape your mouth. It’s your turn to hold your breath when Miguel’s other hand begins to stroke your clit. Once, twice, thrice.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse. “You clench around my finger every time I flick your clit.”

Not that you needed proof, but Miguel does it again and you shake with pleasure. “See?” he gasps, and captures your lips in a sloppy kiss.

He he pulls back to hold your eyes and you breathe his shaky breaths in. You close your eyes and imagine how it would look to hold his hard cock in your hands while he played with your pussy. He tears you away from your fantasy by hooking his fingers inside on an angle. You almost arch completely off his lap. He moves his free hand away from your clit and presses you back into him. His hard bulge pressed into your ass.

“Here?” Miguel moans and licks your lips. “Tell me where? Right here? Ah, here.”

His fingers find that spot again and he massages his fingers against it. You nod furiously and my hands move to claw forearms. He softly bites your shoulder in retaliation and his free hand resumes working against your clit, picking up rhythm. “Can I put another finger inside?” he asks, breathing hard. “I promise it will feel good.”

“Oh-kay,” you gasp, rocking your hips on his hand.

His index finger slithers into your pussy, and you forget how to speak. You begin to twist and turn in his lap. He pulls away from your clit to press down hard against your stomach so he can keep you in place. You slide your ass over his crotch with every movement of his fingers.

“Mig-Mig-Mig,” you pant, moving your hips to his set rhythm.

“Good? I bet that feels so good.”

“Gah—”

He presses soft kisses onto your cheek as you sink into his arms. You begin to tighten further around him. You realize that this is exactly how you always want to be—full of Miguel’s fingers, touch, and love. His tongue slips into your mouth as his fingers begin curling into you faster. Your moans and groans echo through the office. His left hand leaves your stomach and reaches for your clit again. It takes seven swipes, one for each day he left you alone, for you to seize around his finger. His mouth never leaves yours as he drinks all of your pleasurable cries.

Slowly, the current leaves your body and you’re able to take in your surround. Your cheeks burn with realization. Miguel had just fingered you open on his desk at your workplace. The very same desk you set up for him every morning. Your fingers slide up to his hair and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. “Don’t be shy now,” he chuckles, “One day I’ll fuck you all over this office, nena.”

You shriek and lightly slap his arm. Miguel gently slides his fingers out of your cunt, eliciting a soft groan, and brings his to his mouth.

He hums with eyes closed at the taste. “You taste so good,” he mumbles around his fingers.

“Ugh,” Lyla gags at a distance. “Be glad I activated noise cancellation.”

A/N: Thoughts?

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raz-writes-the-thing · 5 months

Text

Sinning With Lust (Good Omens One-Shot)

Aziraphale x GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open

Summary: Aziraphale catches you reading a spicy novel.

CW: Aziraphale has bde here

Good Omens Tag List: @coffee-and-red-lipstick @quickslvxrr @clarina04 @motionlessindoubt @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

“What have we here, then?”

Those five words startled you so badly that it sent your Kindle flying out of your hands and onto the floor.

“Jesus Christ!” You shouted, hand flying to your chest in fright. Your heart beat hard and fast for a few moments before you returned to yourself, hammering dying down.

You’d been reading a rather spicy scene in your novel, and you hadn’t expected to be interrupted quite like that. Particularly so startlingly.

“Oh, come now, that’s not very nice- blaspheming in an Angel’s abode.” Aziraphale tutted at you teasingly, those eyes glinting with mischief. He was good at that. “My house is God’s house, you know.”

“Listen,” you breathed, heartbeat finally returning to normal. “You scared me. I didn’t hear you sneaking up on me.”

“Sneaking?! Well, I resent the accusation, my dear. I assure you I was approaching at my usual pace, gait and noisiness.”

You grunted and made to stand to grab your Kindle, though Aziraphale shushed you and encouraged you back into your spot, insisting that he should get it for you as he was the reason it had been dropped so unceremoniously.

“What were we reading today, dear?” Aziraphale asks, leaning to pick up the tablet and pass it to you.

You’d always thought those scenes in movies where the protagonist had something to hide and the main antagonist, side character or whoever went for it in slow motion was stupid. Turns out it’s pretty accurate.

Your heart beat faster in your chest and you reached for the Kindle to snatch it out of his hands before he could read the page sitting there incriminatingly. You watched as his eyes skimmed a couple of lines and widened comically before settling again after the initial shock. You noted the telltale subtle darkening of his irises and blushed profusely.

“Oh, I see,” he said, voice taking on a slightly lower pitch. You shied away, looking out the window and covering half your face with your palm. This was truly mortifying.

“Been a bit naughty, have we?” Aziraphale asked, putting the Kindle on the side table and standing before you. He brought one hand down to move your own and softly cupped your chin, leading it so that you were now looking up at his heated gaze. You swallowed thickly. “Lust is a sin, you know, my dear.”

You nodded, unable to form words. Your mouth was suddenly dry and you would have given anything for a big glass of water.

“What’s wrong?” Aziraphale’s head cocked to the side. “You’re looking positively scared, little rabbit.”

You breathed out a panicked laugh. Oh, this was- Aziraphale was ticking so many boxes for you right now.

“Reading such filth in my home, dear- In God’s home. Do you think you need to be punished?” Aziraphale’s bottom lip poked out in a mild pout, mocking you. Your eyes flitted between his, and you shook your head no.

“No? Hmm, I’m not sure I agree.”

You lean your cheek into the palm of his hand and Aziraphale practically swoons. You know you’re putting on the charm. It usually has about a fifty per cent success rate, and you’re wondering which way Zira will go with it when he’s suddenly leaning down and pressing a feather-light kiss to your forehead.

“Sweet thing,” he said softly, giving you one of the most loving smiles you’ve ever seen. “My office, ten minutes, hmm? Don’t be late.”

Then he wandered off into the kitchen, leaving you breathless and blinking at the space that your Angel had just been occupying.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied to the wall.

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sky-kiss · 5 months

Note

YAS! Free time is best time! Hmm for prompts, I love the idea of low intelligence Tav and Raphael? Like Tav convinced Raphael is a Fae? Man offered her food, won’t call her by her name, rhymes, and wants to make deals. He’s totally a fae, and he gets so pissy she won’t be convinced otherwise.

Or for spicy prompt. I know it’s not everyone’s thing, but innocent Tav being deflowered by Raphael as part of a deal? Or cockwarming, that’s my favorite as well.

A/N: Had to fight, had to actively restrain myself for going for one of these prompts. Will do the scenario though. And I weep. But when Idiot!Tav calls, I answer.

______

R/T: Local Devil Tries to Flirt; Local Idiot Too Far Gone for Banter

______

There are mortal eccentricities he finds charming. Ambition, for one! Their pluck! The gods create meager little creatures, soft, small, and weak, yet they forge ahead! Unconcerned by their relative lack of status in the universe! He'd go so far as to say he admires the trait. And there is something endearing in their youthful naivete, comparative ignorance of the outer planes. Raphael is not so proud as to admit he has not actively exploited this lack of knowledge in the past. It's always served his best interests!

But it can be, and currently is, a double-edged sword. The cambion strokes his chin, lips pressed to a thin line, as he surveys his champion. His little mouse regards him with narrowed eyes and a vacant stare. "Come, my dear! Eat and make merry for tomorrow," he prolongs the sentence, letting it hang between them with a practiced theatricality. "You may die."

"Is that a threat?"

Raphael chuckles, shifting his weight to the back foot, his right hand pressed to his sternum. "From me? Have I been ought but a friend? A champion, an advocate, in this your hour of need?"

She huffs, "I can't see that you've done a thing for us. You dangle a deal and won't let me take it!"

"The thrill of anticipation, sweetling. Best in all things." He winks.

She does not reciprocate. Her brows pulled together; she frowned, arms crossing her chest- not the body language Raphael wanted. In truth, he's been finding the whole arrangement a touch challenging. There's no back-and-forth or witty banter- not like he planned it. Tav shakes her head. "And that's another thing. I'm not your sweetling. Or your dear. I'm Tav. Can you manage Tav?"

"We're certainly feeling combative, aren't we?" The devil narrows his eyes.

"You can do it, can't you?"

And he's momentarily struck by the notion that she isn't challenging him; she's genuinely curious if he can do it. Raphael hums, "Nuanced as it is, I am perfectly capable of naming you, Tav. Is that satisfactory?"

She shakes her head. "I don't trust you."

"Clever girl. Only you don't have to trust me. There is something deliciously illicit in such partnerships—a hint of intrigue. A flash of- "He leans nearer, flourishing with his right hand. Sparks dance from the tips of his fingers. "Danger."

"No good ever came from the fae-folk."

"My dear, I assure you, I…" Raphael cuts off, brain catching up to his tongue. "Beg pardon? Fae?"

"Fae," she repeats. Tav eyes him with renewed caution, hand slipping to the hilt of her (comically ineffectual) cold-iron knife. "I'm many things, Raphael, but I'm no fool."

"Truly." He licks his lips. It's rare for him to be purely baffled, but here it is. Nothing about her suggests she's joking. A quick peak in the little idiot's head suggests she believes her statement with absolute certainty. He crosses his arms over his chest, indicating himself with a hand sweep. "My dear, what do you make of all this?" The horns, red skin, the tail…clearly infernal.

She shakes her head. "A devil would deal more honestly. I'd be more inclined to trust them. This is…a glamor. Convincing, but false."

He blanches. "What."

"You bring me here. You make me pretty promises and ply me with wine and sweet words. You speak in riddles and songs!" He wants to argue that those are all devilish traits, but gods, why bother? Raphael pinches the bridge of his nose. "Devils may be evil, Raphael, but at least they're honest."

"To their detriment, apparently." He sighs. "Pet…"

"Tav."

"Tav," he corrects, feeling his temperature rise in response to his temper. "I have offered a contract, its terms clearly stated."

"No. You've offered me a deal. No contract, no terms. And the matter with the Orthon! A purely verbal arrangement. No devil worth their salt would go along with that."

"How dare you! Impertinent, thoughtless…" Raphael catches himself. He makes a mental ten count and assures himself the deal will be done shortly. It all comes back to the crown. He needs them. He…gods, he has to play along. It tastes like bile on his tongue. "Fae, yes. You've found me out, pet. A…creature of chaos. Such am I."

Tav nods. "Thank you for your honesty."

He honestly considers strangling the little idiot.

#bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #bg3 #asks #my writing #Shes too dumb to live your honor #hes gonna have to put her down #its for her own good

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bunnyscraft · 2 years

Note

What about Andy Barber with a cheating / getting back at kink

Like he knows Laurie is cheating on him so he turns to you

Dark!Andy Barber x Younger!Reader | Guilty

Bunny’s Note : oooo spicy !! Always love some dark!Andy Barber !! Hope you enjoy this one <3

Warnings : slight! dub-con, darkish!Andy, cheating, daddy kink, oral (f receiving), inexperienced!Reader, mean!Andy, slight misogyny, BIG AGE GAP !!

Andy’s pov:

I’d made it two steps into the pristine seemingly empty home before I heard it—the obnoxiously loud ringing of my wife’s phone. The shrill sound of the speaker shouldn’t have irritated me more than the reason for the call.

I knew who it was. Who he was.

Laurie’s feet thumped down the hallway—always quick to pick up the unknown caller or send it straight to voicemail before mumbling on about annoying telemarketers and asking how my day was.

I knew what she was doing.

I watched as her chipped red nails flipped the device over—screen now flat against the cold expensive marble that stood in the middle of our kitchen. “Oh! Ands—baby,” she faked surprise, moving around the counter to conduct our mandatory kiss. What once used to be the most exciting part of my day—I was about to get laid—now blended in with my other daily duties.

It’s Thursday—take out the trash.

Don’t forget to schedule with the groomer.

Take a handful of vitamins because apparently—I am now old.

Kiss cheating wife.

Go to work.

She leaned in, kissed the corner of my mouth as quickly as one could. I didn’t bother to return it and she didn’t bother to care—no she only continued to clamber around the kitchen searching for her bag and shoes and whatever else she’d need for her night out of pretending she wasn’t a mother and wasn’t in her mid forties and definitely wasn’t a married woman sleeping with drunk men in their twenties.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, babe. Sorry it’s such short notice—you know Susan can’t bake it all without me. She’ll definitely need my help with the bake sale and—” Laurie rambled on, picking up her phone and anxiously tapping through it.

She seemed to have forgotten that Susan didn’t know shit about baking and that our son, who was now a senior in high school, was possibly a little too old to have a mother host a bake sale for him.

All of these things—the bullshit lies and the shifty behavior—should have hurt me. Maybe they should have triggered a sort of dominance in me to protect my family or confront my wife. But no, in moments like these, I felt nothing.

“Oh and y/n is here—upstairs with Jacob.” She revealed—voice laced with annoyance. “You make sure she doesn’t try anything on him—she dresses like some kind of slutty-church girl. It’s weird and I don’t want that kind of influence around him. Especially right now.”

I had to bite back a smirk. It was almost comical—her calling you a slut, not that I’d disagree.

Y/n was a cute little thing—always smiling and offering to help when she’d find me covered in grass and dirt—dripping with sweat from working meticulously on our perfect suburban yard. She’d always stand there in some little sundress that would barely reach her knees and pristine white socks—obviously not dressed for the job but always ready to help old Mr. Barber out.

I’d never let her—dirtying a little thing like that wasn’t what I had in mind. Instead, like the old pervert I’ve grown into, I’d have her run inside the house for me for water—just to watch the little sway of her ass as she turned to do what I said, then ogle at the bounce of her tits when she’d skip back.

I’ll admit—I was a creep, I am a creep, but she had a slutty side to her.

Every now and then i’d jolt awake to the flash of y/n’s headlights shining through my window in the peak hours of the night—my bed uncomfortably empty. Were you like Laurie, y/n?Spending long nights out—lying and hiding about where and what you had been doing, either to your absent parents or doting boyfriend?

I had decided that that’s what she was: a little desperate slut—eager for the attention of an older man. It made me feel better to think of y/n this way. It kept me from focusing on those times when her soft laugh stuck a little too long in my head or when her comforting squeezes to my shoulder caused more than just a slight hard-on.

They caused emotions to spill.

I had written it all out in my head—a story on what this oblivious girl was really like.

You were easy—an easy little girl who was desperate for any form of male attention. Sure I didn’t really have enough evidence to back this claim, but I would stand by it.

Thats probably why you, once again, were helping Jacob prepare for his final exams—my son seemed to be under your spell too.

“Yeah sure.” I grunted, though Laurie was already more than halfway to the door, fidgeting anxiously with her keys.

Hours later—Laurie was gone. Empty goodbyes exchanged and forgotten. Andy was now on the couch—he’d not even bothered to rid himself of his button up and slacks for pajamas. His suit jacket hung over the couch and his white button up laid untucked and wrinkled against his torso as he apathetically listened to the news.

He’d stay like this—still and unfeeling until he had the energy to do it all again. At least Laurie didn’t require him to be fake—no she simply accepted that he accepted her infidelity and that if she were to comment on his behavior it would only backfire on her forcing them both into that ever looming, uncomfortable, conversation.

Andy had just began to zone out fully, the commercial for LED sprinkler lights turning into white noise—when the soft taps of feet sounded from the stairs. Your soft hums surrounding him in a sirens call—a warning of his inevitable fate.

His breathing became rigged—his eyes sealed shut as if he were an animal playing dead, hoping you’d walk right past him and out the front door—because if you didn’t, he knew he’d become just like Laurie. He knew he would no longer have the right to be bitter.

He would be just as guilty—thus no longer having the upper hand.

The smell of your floral-y perfume began to surround him. Sweet and warm—just what a girl like you should be—and it caused him to tightly grip the expensive leather couch.

“Mr. Barber? I know you’re awake~” You’d giggled. Andy had sensed your presence had gotten closer—he assumed you had now been standing directly in front of him—probably twirling your hair like some sick-man’s favorite porn star, giving him those big alien-fuckdoll ‘fuck me’ eyes.

“Mr. Barber? a-are you okay? you’ve been down here for a few hours and—” you’d carried on worriedly. Andy’s eyes finally cracked open—you were worried about him. And it had caused Andy to swoon.

Taking you in, he began to realize you’d looked nothing like he expected you to, well besides the checkered skirt and teddy bear soft sweater, no instead of alien-fuckdoll-pornstar, you looked worried. Your smaller soft hands fidgeted with each other and your eyebrows pulled together from nerves. Andy felt the strong urge to grab you—pull you into him and hold you until your concern suffocated him. Not that Andy had felt love, real love, in such a long time—but a small voice was gnawing at him to give it to you.

When you had gotten no response you moved closer—now standing between his spread legs, watching as his emotionless eyes darted across your face. So you tried again. “Mr. Barber I really think you should go to bed—or eat something. Andy—”

“You think I need to go to bed?” Andy asked, his eyes not giving way to his intentions. His voice was gruff—and tired. It made you nervous.

“I-I do, Sir.”

Andy hummed at your response, as if thinking it over. A darkness emitting from his actions.

“No. No, I don’t need that. Figure something else out. What do I really need y/n?” Andy urged, not bothering to hide his smirk and not really caring that he let you see. You looked so scared—worried for him but so so scared.

“I know you’re a smart girl, honey. Go on—show me what I need.” He urged, thick thighs spreading Knowing—hoping you’d get the hint.

You swallowed harshly. You weren’t oblivious to sex, you weren’t a virgin. But you’d never slept with someone so much older than you, someone married, and you had never even been able to cum or even sucked a cock before. Yet, you were curious—would he be gentle with you?

Slowly you sank down, the dark rug scraping against your knees surely leaving burns. Being eye-level with his bulge but refusing to look towards it.

Andy’s heart swelled with pride at how well you obeyed. “That’s all it takes, Honey? Just need a’ man to be a’ little bit bossy and you’re happy to be on your knees.” He belittled, watching as your puffy cheeks flushed red. “Go on then, baby, take daddy’s cock out. We both know that’s what you’re here for.”

A pathetic whine crawled it’s way up your throat and passed through your lips before you could catch it—adding onto your embarrassment. Shakily you moved to unbutton his slacks, fingers lightly brushing against the outline of his cock. Andy groaned at the sight of you—Your pretty eyes well up with salty tears, pouty bottom lip caught by your teeth, trying to free his cock without actually touching it.

For a moment Andy thought—No you couldn’t possibly—

“Honey,” Andy drawled, taking your dainty hands in his. His touch and tone suddenly much softer. “Has a man ever gotten you on your knees like this, Honey?”

Suddenly heat flooded your being—either from embarrassment or excitement or both. You quickly hid away from his questioning eyes, afraid to tell him that: No, you hadn’t ever been on your knees for a man before.

Andy’s thumb began to rub small shapes around your hands. Soothing you as he waited for an answer before realizing that the younger girl in front of him hadn’t. He felt as if he’d struck gold—the universe was giving him what he rightfully deserved.

“Look at me, Baby.” He commanded, grasping you chin, tilting your head up. “Answer me this time—has a man ever gotten on his knees for you, Honey?” He didn’t miss the way your thighs began to shake, just slightly.

“I-I…I don’t know what you…No. No sir—”

A savage growl ripped through the room and before you knew it—you were sprawled out on the couch, pillow under your head, and Andy between your thighs.

“Fuck baby,” He groaned, taking in your wetness that had by now ruined the delicate fabric of your panties, “Daddy’s gonna eat this little pussy, m’kay, baby? Then when daddy’s done,” he paused, leaving starved kisses and bites along the insides of your thighs. “You’re gonna gonna take me—lemme claim you, honey”

His words had your head spinning. Here you were, about to let a man twice your age, a married man, eat you out on his couch. Andy’s hands moved up your thighs, leaving little excited tingles, before settling on your hips. “Fuck. These little panties are so fucking cute, Honey.” He admired, tugging at the little black bow that sat above the white lace. “Andy don’t-" you tried to stop him from ripping the lace, because you too thought they were cute, only to receive a harsh strike to the outside of your thigh. “Don’t go dumb on me already, little girl. I told you to call me something, not any of this ‘Andy’ bullshit.” Before you could even muster an ‘I’m sorry Daddy’ he was ripping them down your thighs, before diving into your pussy.

The sounds spilling from his mouth mixed with your own wetness was so obscene it had you shuffling away from the embarrassment, only for his left hand to land on your tummy, firmly holding you in place. “God—fuck I should have done this a long fucking time ago,” he said between breaths, “could have been in this pretty pussy instead of waiting on my goddamn whore of a wife.”

His wife. Oh god his fucking wife. “a-andy we c-cant! what if l-laurie walks in?” you tremble, terrified of being caught with your friend’s—father’s face between your thighs by said friend’s mother. Your protest only seem to egg him on. A pleasantly painful burn making its appearance on your skin—due to the friction of his beard.

“Laurie,” Andy spits, “doesn’t fucking matter.” His words are harsh. And a part of you hurts for Laurie, but that hurt quickly vanishes as your visions begins to fuzz and tummy begins to tighten—suddenly all you can focus on is the impending approach—not your guilt. Your thighs clamp around Andy’s head, and he welcomes the pressure—happy to be making his girl feel her first real orgasm. He even chuckles when they begin to shake.

“You gonna cum, little girl? Cum on daddy’s tongue?” He patronizes, fingers harshly flicking your bud before he begins to fuck you with his tongue.

“a-andy! I think—It feels funny—im gonna,”

“Say it, baby. Tell daddy you’re gonna cum.”

“Im cumming, Daddy!”

Your hands tightly grasp his brown locks as stars begin to cloud your eyes. Crying out a series of whines and ‘thank you Daddy’’s. The sensitivity of it all becoming too much as his tongue laps up your slick.

You had never experienced something so intensely before—your body was giving out, ready to fall into a warm sleep.

That is—until his dark chuckles began to surround your hazzy mind.

“I tire you out, honey?” He laughed, leaning over your smaller frame. “Can’t believe you’ve been starving me of this cute little body.”

His fingers were gentle—lightly tracing the teeth marks he’d left along the inside of your thigh. They hurt and were still very fresh but you found his touch comforting—almost sweet.

“a-andy? can I ask you something?” Your soft voice broke through the silence.

Andy hummed, blue eyes intense but encouraging you to continue.

“Andy…can you kiss me?”

In that moment he knew. He knew you couldn’t just be a simple fuck. Or some simple slut he used to take his marital frustrations out on.

You had a future so different from his present—and he was willing to use everything at his disposal to solidify that it was with him.

bunny’s note : Thanks for reading! Comments and reblogs are what keeps me writing so feel free to do so!!

Taglist : @themotherofhorses @mgkbabygirl @yessirsargeantbarnes @thedarthpancakes @openup-yourmind @booksandbenbarnes @siriusjohnpotter @clearwatersfalling @juulle987 @leesbadussy @rach2602 @slashersluttt @kitty1960 @phildunphyisadilf @charmed-asylum @dopeqff @pono-pura-vida @peacinourtime82 @buckgasms

#bunny rambles 🎟#Gossip Bun 💋#andy barber x reader #Andy Barber #chris evans characters #chris evans #Dark!Andy Barber x reader #dark!andy barber #Daddy!Andy Barber x reader #ari levinson x reader #daddy!stucky x little!reader #daddy!steve #dilf steve rogers

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topguncortez · 2 years

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Code Baby- J. Seresin

➣pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x shy!wife

➣word count: 4k ➣warnings: child birth, mentions of a miscarriage, Rooster being a total himbo, cursing. ➣synopsis: Elliot Lewis Seresin has decided to take his sweet time coming into the world. But then he realizes he's Hangman's son, and finds the need for speed early. ➣Opposites Attract Masterlist || Masterlist

It was literally going to be anyday. The little boy in her belly was running out of room, and driving his mother crazy. Y/N had always carried right to term with her older two babies. Ella and Alex had been punctual, showing up on their due date. But for some reason, Baby Boy Seresin decided he didn’t want to come on his due date. He was comfortable right where he was, sitting high up in his mother’s belly. Y/N had let out a curse when she went to her 39 week doctor's appointment, and Dr. Carpenter had told her that her baby was yet to drop.

Jake’s mother, Jolene, had told Y/N this is exactly what happened when she was pregnant with Jake. Jake was her third baby too, and for some reason, the most stubborn one. He had decided to stay tucked away inside her womb for two whole weeks, and Jolene had to be induced, and even then, Hangman still took his time. Y/N found it comical that Jake was so late, because he had a thing against being late to anything.

“I am tired of this!” Y/N groaned, as she sat down on the couch, “God, can you speed it up please, you’re past your eviction,” She poked at her belly, receiving a nudge in response. She was, just like Jolene was with Jake, two weeks overdue, and growing impatient by the day. Doctor Carpenter said that if Baby Boy didn’t come by the end of the week, then they would be inducing her on monday. The only good thing was that she wasn’t pregnant in the summer. It was February now, and the wilted roses Jake had gotten her for Valentine’s day were still sitting on the counter.

“At least it’s not hot out,” Jake said, walking down the hallway, and placing a kiss on her forehead, “I gotta head back to work. Elles is napping.”

“Thank you for stopping by during lunch,” She said, and tried pushing herself up from the couch, which was a lot harder now with her belly in the way. She let out a huff of air and Jake smiled, helping her up from the couch, “And thank you for helping me get off the couch.”

“Anything for you, sweets,” Jake kissed her lips, “Phoenix said she’ll be by this afternoon to pick Ella up for dance, Rooster and Bob are gonna get Alex from school. I got a late hop this afternoon.”

As much as Jake had grumbled about, he loved the fact that his kids were in dance. Jake had done dance as a child, and he swears that it helped with his agility as an athlete and now as an aviator. And, his kids were pretty good at it, which made it even more fun to have them enrolled. Y/N usually took them to dance, and Jake picked them up. But with her being about ready to pop, the other members of the Dagger Squad had volunteered to take the kids. Y/N waddled behind her husband, walking him to the door.

“Bye,” Jake said, and kissed her again. He then squatted down to be eye level with her bump, “Bye to you too, better not show up while I’m at work.”

“Doubtful,” Y/N rolled her eyes and rubbed her belly, “If the sex and spicy food didn’t kick start his eviction, I don’t think sitting on the couch watching Supernatural reruns will either.”

“You never know,” Jake shrugged and stood back up. He kissed his wife one more time, before reluctantly heading for his truck. Jake had gotten a new truck when Y/N said she was pregnant with baby number three. The truck had basically become Jake’s third child, with the amount of time and care he put into it. Y/N waved at her husband as he pulled out of the driveway, and once his truck disappeared down the street, she walked back inside, and back down on the couch.

The rest of her afternoon went fairly smoothly. Ella napped for about an hour and was ready to bake cookies for the Dagger Squad when she woke up. If you thought Y/N Seresin was impatient, you clearly haven't met Ella Monica Seresin. Ella was excited to be a big sister, and was taking the role of it well. Jake and Y/N had been a bit nervous, knowing the bad rap that middle children got. But Ella was a good sister, and got along well with Alex, and was head over heels in love with the idea of having a little brother to dress up and play tea party with.

“How much longer until Baby is here?” Ella asked as Y/N helped her get in her tights and leotard for dance.

“He’ll be here soon, Elles,” Y/N said, and helped put her tutu on the little girl, “You’re gonna help me with him right?”

“Of course! He’s my baby too!” Ella smiled, and ran out of the room.

Y/N sighed as she leaned back in the rocking chair, and took a deep breath as she felt another jolt of pain through her body. She had been feeling some contractions for the better part of the past month. But Doctor Carpenter only said she was a centimeter dilated at her appointment last week. She groaned as she felt her stomach tighten, and closed her eyes. Ella came running back in, and stopped in the doorway sensing something was wrong. Ella was smart like her dad, and could tell when something was off even though she didn’t really understand it.

“Mommy? What’s wrong?” Ella asked, and slowly made her way to her mom’s side.

“Nothing baby,” Y/N smiled, and ran her hand over Ella’s cheek, “Just your brother is moving around. Probably so he can get ready to come and meet you soon.”

Ella smiled, and laid her cheek on Y/N’s belly. Y/N ran her hand over her blonde locks of hair as the doorbell rang. Ella perked her head up and went sprinting down the hallway. Y/N pushed herself up from the rocking chair, pausing as she felt a wave of pain ripple through her back. She carefully got up on her shaky feet, and walked down the hallway, keeping one hand on the wall, and one on her belly.

“That’s so cool-” Phoenix’s words were cut off as Y/N walked into the living room, “Ella, why don’t you go wait outside with Uncle Bob.” Ella nodded and went running off, as Y/N finally made it to the couch, “Is it contractions? Do I need to call Jake?”

“No, not contractions,” Y/N said, brushing her off, “Not even close yet. He was still sitting up too high three days ago.”

“Yeah well, he looks like he’s dropped now,” Phoenix said, as Rooster walked through the door, a look of concern on his face.

“Ella said something is wrong,” Rooster said.

“Nothing is wrong! Can you just. . .” Y/N took a deep breath as another contraction rippled through her body, “Phoenix, can you take the kids to dance, please.” Phoenix and Rooster shared a look, but they both knew better than to argue with Y/N. Phoenix nodded and got up off the couch.

“She starts going into labor or her contractions get closer, you call Jake and then me,” Phoenix said and Rooster nodded.

Bob walked into the house as Phoenix walked out, and his eyes widened. He had grown up on a farm, he knew a laboring mom when he saw one. He opened his mouth to say something, but Y/N shot him a death glare that made the back of his neck turn red. Instead, he walked over to the couch and sat down next to her, grabbing her arm and looking at the watch on her wrist. He counted the seconds until she released a slow breath.

“Thirty seconds?” Bob asked, and Y/N nodded.

“Every fifteen minutes or so. This isn’t labor, so shut up,” Y/N demanded and Bob nodded, “When is Jake off?”

“Not sure,” Rooster said, “They wanted to get some night training in. My guess is maybe nineteen hundred.” Y/N looked at the clock and saw that it was only 4 in the afternoon. It would be another three hours until Jake was home with the kids. She groaned and leaned back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling.

The moment of bliss didn’t last long. It was about an hour after Bob and Rooster had arrived that Y/N’s contractions had gotten worse, and closer together. Rooster looked on the verge of a breakdown as Bob added counterpressure to Y/N’s back as she stood at the counter trying to make dinner.

“I think we need to go to the hospital,” Rooster said.

“No!” Y/N said, and took in a short breath, “I’m fine.” She sniffled and stood up straighter, pushing Bob’s hands away as she walked back over to the vegetables she was cutting. Rooster shot Bob a look of complete helplessness. Bob knew that Y/N would go to the hospital when she felt ready to. She had two babies before this and knew what labor was like. If she felt more comfortable at home for a while, then she was going to stay at home. They would have to take her when she made up her mind.

“You heard her,” Bob shrugged and went back to helping her cut veggies.

“You two,” Rooster pointed between the two of them, “Are insane.”

Y/N and Bob laughed at Rooster, as he finally sat down in a chair instead of pacing a hole into her kitchen floor. Bob kept an eye on Y/N, timing how long her contractions lasted and the break in between them. Bob was a little nervous, but he tried to keep his nerves at bay, and did what he could to help Y/N through them. Everything seemed fine, as the three of them carried on a conversation about Rooster’s failing love life with Phoenix’s sister, Dragon. Every so often Rooster would pause and get that jolt in his bones as Y/N would grasp on to the counter as he belly tightened with a contraction. It all seemed to be fine. . .until she felt her water break.

“Oh okay, listen, we’re going now,” Rooster said, standing up from his chair, and going to her side. She grabbed onto his arm, feeling dizzy from the onset of sudden pain. She looked up at Bob, and he looked like a deer in the headlights. His calm flyboy demeanor went out the window when he realized that look on her face.

“We’re not gonna make it,” Bob said.

“The fuck you mean ‘we’re not gonna make it’” Rooster said mocking Bob’s accent.

“Hey! Not nice,” Y/N said.

“Sorry Floyd,” Rooster said.

“I mean, she’s not gonna make it to the hospital. Rooster, get her to the bedroom. Y/N, where are your towels?” Bob asked, moving quickly down the hallway.

“Last closet on the right!” Y/N called out, and pushed herself away from Rooster, who was trying to comprehend what he was just told.

“Oh my god, you mean it literally,” Rooster moved, and offered his arm to Y/N. He slowly lowered her down to the bedroom floor. Bob came in with towels and started spreading them around as Y/N tried breathing through contractions. The rush through her body let her know that Baby Boy Seresin had made up his mind, and he suddenly had the need for speed.

“Oh my god!” She cursed, as she felt her baby drop. Rooster felt like he was going to pass out or throw up, or both, “Oh it hurts!”

“You sure we can’t get to the-”

“No time!” Y/N gritted out, cutting Rooster off.

“Call 9-1-1, and then Jake,” Bob said, as he got down on the floor in front of Y/N, “Are you okay with this? We can wait.”

“No! Bob, I need to push!” Y/N groaned, “Better you than Birdboy.”

“The miracle of life is not for everyone, Y/N!” Bradley yelled, as he looked up from calling the paramedics. He put the phone on speaker as it rang and set it down next to Bob, “You know what you’re doing?”

“I delivered cows before,” Bob said.

“Did you just compare me to a fucking cow, Floyd!”

“I-”

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” Bob was saved by the operator answering.

“My friend is having a baby,” Bob said, as calmly as he could. He remembered from the times he did deliver cows, that you being nervous didn’t help the mom at all.

“What’s your name sir, and is she crowning?” Bob looked up at Y/N, and she nodded at him to remove the shorts she wore.

“My name is Bob, and yeah, she is.”

Rooster gagged at the sight in front of him, “Oh god, that’s not normal.”

“Rooster, fuck off,” Y/N groaned feeling the overwhelming urge to push, “I need to push!”

“That’s good,” The operator said, “One that next contraction I want you to push, okay!”

“Okay,” Y/N said as she tried to sit up a bit, “Rooster, get behind me.”

“Y/N, please don’t make me,” Rooster whined, but if looks could kill, Rooster would be dead on sight. In this moment, Bradley Bradshaw was more scared of shy, quiet Y/N Seresin than he had ever been in his whole Naval career, and he had barely survived the Uranium Mission. Bradley gulped and moved to sit behind her, having her back against his chest.

“Fuck! Okay, I’m pushing!” Y/N cried out, as she bore down, gripping onto Rooster’s hands tightly as she pushed. Bob did his best to encourage her, while Rooster closed his eyes at the pain of her grip. He didn’t know how she got so strong.

“What do you see, Bob?” The operator asked.

“His head,” Bob said, “N-no cord, that’s good right?”

“That is!” The operator said, and Bob smiled, “Since there is no cord, momma just needs to keep pushing until the baby’s head is born.”

“Come on, Y/N, push!” Bob said, as he watched the woman’s face contort in pain as she pushed. Bob’s blue eyes were wide with fear and wonder as he watched her. He had seen the miracle of birth before, but this was a whole nother level, “Okay! Head’s out.”

“Gross,” Rooster gagged.

“Okay, that was the hardest part,” The operator said, “Ambulance is fifteen minutes out, but this next part will go quickly. Bob, you need to support the baby’s head and position them upwards. Do you have a shirt, or towel to help you catch them?”

“Yeah, I have a towel!” Bob said, and grabbed a spare towel from the side of him, and draped it over his arms.

“Next contraction, I need momma to give it her all, okay?”

“I’m fucking trying!” Y/N cursed. Rooster grabbed a cloth and wiped the sweat from her forehead, “Fucking Christ!” This was probably the most either man had heard Y/N curse, but neither one blamed her.

Bob did what the operator told him, angling the baby upward as Y/N pushed with all the strength she had. Y/N could feel the searing pain in her body and then the relief as Baby Boy Seresin left her body. She gasped and leaned back against Rooster, who’s brown eyes were wet with tears as he looked at the newborn in Bob’s arms.

“Bob, you need to clear out their nose and mouth airway,” The operator said, and Bob nodded, grabbing the bulb syringe he had found in the nursery. He did as directed, “You need to get him to cry.”

“Come on,” Bob said, as he rubbed the baby’s back, “Come on!”

“Why isn’t he crying!?” Y/N called out, “Bob! What’s wrong?”

“He’s just. . .” Bob kept rubbing the baby’s back, trying to get him to cry. He could hear Rooster, Y/N and the operator calling to him, asking him the same question: why isn’t he crying. Bob felt his heart beat in his ears as he repeated for Baby Boy Seresin to cry. The second that cry broke, Bob sighed in relief, “Stubborn.”

“Oh my god,” Y/N said, and leaned back. Bob handed Y/N her baby, placing him on her chest. She rubbed his back gently as he cried, “Hi, buddy. You’re not supposed to be here, but we’re happy you’re here.”

“Paramedics!”

— — —

Jake smiled as he walked into the locker room after his hop. He had successfully shot down the top two pilots in his current class. Jake loved being an instructor. He said it was as rewarding as being a father. Opening his locker, he was met with the various pictures of his family, and it made his heart swell with pride. He grabbed his phone, turned it on and sat down on the bench. He was one of the few who didn’t take his phone up with him or into the classroom. He said it distracts him. But now, he was wishing he took it. Jake stood up quickly, reading the messages, and felt his heart beating out of his chest. He didn’t even grab his bag as he ran out of the locker room.

“Seresin!” Admiral Bates yelled as the blonde pilot ran into him as he left the locker room.

“S-sorry!” Jake yelled as he ran down the hallway towards the doors. He quickly dialed Rooster’s number as he jumped into the truck, turning it on quickly and pulling out of the parking lot.

“Hello?” Rooster answered.

“The fuck you mean she had the baby!?”

“Oh like, Bob is holding your son right now.”

“And no one thought to fucking get me?! Where are you?”

“Memorial Hospital. And we were kinda busy with the fact that your wife had him on your bedroom floor.”

“She fucking what?”

“Is that Jake?” He could hear Y/N’s voice from the other side, “Hang up and tell him I’ll fill him in when he gets here.”

“Rooster, don’t you fucking hang-” Jake’s threat was cut off by the end tone of the call, “Fucking dammit.”

Jake probably broke every traffic law as he got to the hospital in record time. Rooster was in the waiting room with Alex and Ella, the two little Seresins running over to their dad as he walked in. Jake looked a mess, a layer of sweat covering his body. He had tried to calm his nerves, but he wasn’t sure what the status of his wife and newborn were. He assumed because she was telling Rooster to hang up, that she was okay. Rooster didn’t say much as he walked Jake down to Y/N’s room other than the fact he is surprised he didn’t pass out.

“But you should’ve seen Bob, he was amazing!” Rooster said, as he opened the door to the room. Y/N turned her head from the WSO who was sitting in the rocking chair next to her, and smiled at her husband.

“Hey,” She said, and Jake looked exhausted, “You kinda missed a lot.”

“I see that,” Jake sighed, as he set his daughter down, and walked over to his wife. He kissed her and caressed her cheek, “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Little sore, a little traumatized, but I’ll survive.”

“I might not!” Rooster said from the doorway. Y/N gave her kids a look and then a nod.

“Attack Uncle Birdy!” Ella said, and turned around shoving Rooster out of the door, with Alex doing the same. Rooster laughed as they pushed him out, and he picked them both up in his strong arms and carried them down the hall to the waiting room.

“So that’s him,” Jake said, looking over at the newborn in Bob’s arms, “You delivered my son, Floyd?”

“I did, Bagman,” Bob said, and looked up from the baby. He gave Y/N and Jake a little half smile, before looking back down at the baby. Bob was amazed at the tiny human in his arms. He had never held a baby before. He was always too scared to hold Ella when she was younger (she was also really squirmy so it didn’t help), but Baby Boy Seresin was sleeping peacefully in his Uncle Bob’s arms. Jake walked over to the other side, and looked over the WSO’s shoulder at his son.

“Here, you should hold him,” Bob said, and handed the baby to Jake, “I’ve had my fair share.”

“You’re welcome to hold him anytime you want, Bob,” Y/N said as Jake sat down next to her, “We have you to thank for getting him here safely.” Bob blushed and scratched at the back of his neck. Y/N and Jake shared a look, an unspoken agreement, “Would you be Elliot’s godfather?”

“You really mean that?” Bob asked, his eyes filling with tears, “I mean, you don’t have to because I helped deliver him. Any of us would’ve done it. Maybe not Bradshaw because he looked close to death.”

“We mean it,” Jake said, “You gotta make sure he gets into UT.”

“Or Yale,” Y/N said, and Jake rolled his eyes.

“Being a longhorn is cooler,” Jake whispered to his son, and kissed his forehead.

“I can do that,” Bob nodded and smiled, “Thank you. I promise, I won’t let you down.”

“We know,” Y/N said and let out a yawn, “Now get out of here, go have a drink for me. I know you need it.”

“Yeah,” Bob said, “Gotta call my mom and tell her.”

Y/N giggled as Bob left the room, leaving the three of them alone. It felt like when she had Alex all over again. Just the three of them cuddled on the bed together. They both looked over the features of their beautiful boy. Eli already had Jake’s beautiful green eyes, just like his siblings. Y/N and Jake had determined that Eli was probably going to be like Jake, stubborn and hardheaded, but now that he was here in their arms, they were seeing how he was like his mother.

“This is our last baby,” Y/N said, sadly, “Our rainbow baby.”

“You really want this to end?” Jake asked her.

“See, if you asked me during labor, I would’ve said yes,” Y/N laughed, “But I’m not sure now. This is our last newborn phase. I’m not sure if I am one hundred percent sure to be done with it yet, but knowing how hard it was to get to this point. . . I might be okay with it.”

Jake lifted his baby to his nose, and took in a sniff of his scent, “God, I’ll miss the way they smell when they are babies. Ella always smells like jet fuel and worms.”

“Hey!” Y/N laughed, hitting her husband’s shoulder gently, “She’s like her handsome father, adventurous.”

“And Alex is like his beautiful mother, a kind soul,” Jake said, and kissed his wife, “And who will you be like, mister Elliot Lewis Seresin?”

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swampstew · 2 months

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1-800-GRANDLINEBLING ♥ Call Me On My Shell Phone

To celebrate 1K+ followers, I opened up phone lines to the crews! Part 1 of 3 ~ X reader (and one OC) with Kid, Killer Law, Zoro, and Sanji for myself, @quinloki @icy-spicy @yamat0 @mandiemegatron and @leftsidebonfire Part 2 | Part 3

You are now being connected to...

Purururu purururu puru—

Kid: Hey babe, I know it’s been a while since we talked. Even longer since I’ve seen ya…and I miss ya…so damn much. I’ll be back from my trip soon and when I do, I’mma make it be like I never even left. Don’t make any plans for the next few weeks - yeah weeks, you’re gonna be stuck with me for a minute! HAAH? Sorry the line is busy, but I’ll see you real soon. I love you.

Waking up to start your morning routine, you were interrupted when you heard a commotion in your backyard. Hurriedly, you investigated and found that some kind of animal had gotten into your she-shed and left a mess. After you cleaned it up, you went back to your bedroom and was stunned to find your bed made up and decorated with flowers and treats.

"KID!" you squealed as the giant scooped you up from behind, burying his nose in your neck, softly kissing your skin until he reached your lips. Ravenous as he sweetly but impatiently kissed you, leaving traces of his favorite red shade smeared all over you.

"Hey," he finally whispered, kissing your cheek, "Get dressed, I'm taking you out. I have a whole day planned for us."

Killer: Hey gorgeous, it's good to hear your voice. Man I really miss you, actually we'll be docking very soon. Is it alright if I take up your day and night? Heh, you're so sweet. I'll be sticking around for a bit before the next trip, and I'd like to spend that time with you. Yeah? Awesome. I'll be there soon. I'm cooking you the best pasta you'll ever have!"

Killer did not specify which day he was visiting, which made you all the happier when someone knocked on your front door and it turned out to be your new beau. You giggled as he scooped you into a bear hug, your legs lifted off the ground by his strength and height difference.

"Mmmm there she is," he sighed behind his face mask, nuzzling your face to push the fabric away. "Gods I missed the way you feel in my hands," he kissed your cheek softly.

"Kiiilllller not outside," you whine.

"As you wish," he huffed, rushing inside and kicking your door close as you left out a delighted shriek. "We won't be cooped up in here all the time though, I think I owe my girl some spoiling and pampering."

Law: Hey. It's been a while hasn't it? How are you? Thanks, I'm doing ok, I'll be better when we dock on land. The crew is going to do their own thing but I'm hoping I can stay with you and make up for lost time. Yeah? I like the sound of tha--wait, dancing? You know I can--tch--Shachi needs the phone. We'll talk when I see you. No, you're not convincing me to go dancing.

Bitch he thought.

Law landed on your island and it took all of 2 hours before you dragged him to the comic book store. A simple route to throw him off his game - so when your day trip transitioned to lunch date, to at-home-nap, to dinner with friends, to the rave party down the block, he couldn't help himself but follow you into the booming building. All it took was some peer pressure, shots, a lot of tequila, and some glow in the dark bracelets. He's down so bad for you.

Zoro: Hello? Is this thing even on? Oh you can hear me! Good. We'll be on dry land soon enough, and if you want to hang out or whatever, I'm ok with doing that. TCH No, I don't need you to pick me up, I can find your place on my own. Yes I'm sure! I--hm I have to go, the stupid cook needs the snail. I uhm, look forward to seeing you.

You were pleasantly surprised to find Zoro on your doorstep, on time exactly like he said he would be. You didn't miss the way Franky zoomed away on his motorcycle, all sly-like.

"Told you I knew my way around," the swordsman scratched the back of his head, a pink hue grew on his cheeks as his eyes looked everywhere but you.

"Sure, sure whatever you say Marimo," you grin cheekily, and that made him more flustered.

"TCH, annoying ass. Look we don't have to hangout--"

"Shut up, annoying man!" you bite back, the curve of your lips growing wider as you antagonize your crush.

With a huff, Zoro finally looks you in the eye, the blush on his face deepening, "With an attitude like that, I know exactly what we're going to do first. Hope you still have your sparring gloves."

Sanji: MON CHERIEEEEE!!! I've missed you every day like a plant misses the sun on a rainy day. We'll be making port in a day and I can't wait to show up on your doorstep with my heart - no, not literally, I know that freaked you out the last time. Do you need me to pick up anything? You always say 'no its ok,' but I swear you're never inconveniencing me! I swear on the mosshead's life! I'll see you soon my love.

As promised, Sanji appeared on your front porch carrying a picnic basket full of goods and trinkets he brought from his travels. Delighted, you threw your arms over him and he swung you around once before planting a big kiss on your cheek.

"Oh, I've brought a friend if that's ok," Sanji whispered in your ear.

You looked behind him to find a shy little cow trailing behind the French cook.

"Of course," you squealed happily, "Everyone is always welcome here. Let's warm up some milk for this baby to eat."

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thegreatwicked · 3 months

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FicRecs

Enjoy some of my favorite stories I've come across on Tumblr! Seriously, I LOVE these stories and I reread them A LOT!

Please note: Virtually ALL OF THESE STORIES ARE SMUT. That means 18+ content, and you are responsible for managing your internet consumption. Minors DNI.

FicRecs

DC Comics

Dance for Daddy by @matth1w LAWD. I love me some Roman Sionis fics and this one DELIVERS. Sexy, kinky, smutty I give it a solid Chefs Kiss.

Joy Ride and Let Me Make You Feel Good, The Intern by @littleredwing89 More delicious Roman Sionis one shots Joy ride is about teasing Roman as he drives and Let Me Make You Feel Good is about a sweet smutty cure for a hangover. And the Intern, a fuck buddies to lovers story, god yum. Reader inserts. Drool. Go forth read and enjoy.

Bait the Beast by @more-cardigan-than-womanLord help me, I found a new little gem. You cause a bit of a ruckus with Coblepot and Roman thinks you need a lesson.

Yours by @tarrenterror25set in the AO! Verse Roman is having some trouble during the holidays overcoming everything the Joker did to him, good thing he has you. Because he does. You're his now. Melt. Sorry about the mess.

Star Wars

Water and Rock by @split-spectrum I honestly cannot say enough good things about this story It follows Obi-wan/Fem Reader in the classic Master/Padawan troupe and it. is. SPICY. Up to twelve chapters which I have read MULTIPLE TIMES and it hits so hard. Go read this story it is sexy as HELL and gives you the feels. She's so damn good at writing Obi-Wan it hurts, but like in a kinky good way.

The Gift by @ladyinwriting18 I have already spoke at length about the fabulousness that is Lady in Writing and her amazing content. This one is a favorite! Its a Maul/Reader Insert and it is smutty sxy and kinky. Seriously if Maul is your fictional crush (Hi me too!), go read this.

The Three Princes Part One: The Oldest Profession by @thenightmarketofdathomir This writer is freaking legendary. I do not know the collection of words in my own language to describe the eloquence and sophistication this writer possesses. Just go. Go read this and you let me know if you're ever the same again. This gem stars our boy Feral and is a you/reader insert. Oh damn, this story makes me want things...

Birthday Wish, Romancing the Pages, The Write Seduction, To Create Life, by @jedianjakenobi Y'all, this author holds a special place in my writer's heart. She's a published author on Amazon and she's truly amazing. Her works are all Obi-Wan-centered and reader inserts. Birthday Wish is a birthday crush from your sexy neighbor, Romancing the Pages is a fake relationship/summer romance with a reclusive shy librarian (Ben) and a best-selling author, The Write Seduction is a professor Kenobi/writing student story and it is SPICY. And my favorite To Create Life is a Jedi Council green lights a baby-making program and who else is the reader paired with? Their good friend Padawan Kenobi. My darlings, my friends, if you like Obi-Wan smut then you are doing yourselves a disservice by NOT reading these.

Empty Me Out by @221bshrlocked reader insert/DOM Obi-Wan I'm tellin y'all this story NEARLY killed me. I've lost track of how many times I've readit. You're an entertainer and Master Kenobi needs information from you, so you give him what he wants and then he gives you what you want. Where it Wasn't massage therapy reader insert/Obi-Wan, do I need to say more? Pretty sure I melted into the floor with this one.

His Loving Satine by @waterlily707 I love reader insterT and OCs but these two Obi-Wan and Satine are a joy to read. Temporary paralyzed Obi-Wan at the "mercy" of a slightly dom Satine. Juicy, gorgeous, little bit of fluff. Love it.

Room 24 by @murdockussy Little angsty Obi-Wan/reader insert enemies to lovers in an undercover assignment-type situation. Spicy, dom Obi-Wan give. Me. More.

Tea with Lemon, Tea with Honey by @wickedscribbles an established relationship as a reader insert and Obi-Wan. If you want honey then you get to take care of a sick Obi-Wan and kind out you have a new kink, if you want Lemon then Obi-Wan takes advantage of said kink and whisks you away to another planet for some R&R under the guise of "work." Enjoy!

Actors/Characters

Ben Hardy

Hold Me Close, Don't Let Me Go by @stray-kaz God. This one shot is just sxy as hell, it's a Billy/Four fro, 6 Underground/Female Reader. Our boy comes home to one hell of an 'I missed you, I need you right now' welcome. GO read it. Right now.

Such an Experience by @rogermyreligionOk. Guys... FUCK, this is a hot little oneshot Roger Taylor of Queen/Female reader and OMG. Just go read it. I've officially stopped counting how many times I've read this. Smutty/Sexy. I'm dead.

Long Distance by @acciotwinzwinz. Y'ALL. Sit your asses down and read this Roger Taylor/Reader insert/You. It's fluffy, its sexy, its cute and the smut is -chefs kiss- Yes, I read this one a lot too.

For now, these are some of my favorites that I frequently reread because I love them. I'll probably be adding more, it's more than likely I've forgotten some...

#fic rec #ben hardy characters #star wars #dc comics #jason todd #roman sionis #all smut all the way #billy/four x reader #roger taylor #obi wan x reader #obi-wan smut #roman sionis smut #jason todd smut #darth maul x you #darth maul smut #Support writers content #My favorite fanfics

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egophiliac · 1 year

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please i would like to know more knitting headcanons if you have them. i love the most wholesome cozy headcanons out there

this got SO away from me, I'm so sorry, it started as "here is some needlework-related headcanon" and then I just lost my entire mind and it turned into "here are Scenarios about characters doing crafts". I…wasn't kidding about dedicating large amounts of time thinking about characters making things out of yarn.

it's not quite a fanfic but, uhhh, take it about as seriously as you take my comics, I guess. :') we're all just having fun here!

the closest Grim has gotten to knitting is the time he ate half a skein of yarn because it "looked spicy". (that was not a fun day for Yuu or the Ramshackle bathroom.) the ghosts, meanwhile, have canonically have made clothes for Yuu and Grim and, honestly, they're probably their own little knitting club (and Yuu's self-appointed eccentric granduncles). you know they're loving having an actual person to play dress-up make things for. we shall be well-prepared for any more impromptu Tsunotarou snowstorms.

Riddle, Trey, and Jamil all know the basics of sewing, but don't do any needling beyond mending/darning/general upkeep. they're all annoyingly practical. (Najma is also annoyingly practical, but she's more fashion-forward about it than Jamil. she's probably really into visible mending.)

Ruggie and Epel probably do know how to knit, in addition to those basics, but to them it's more of a utilitarian thing (need a new warm hat for the winter!) than something they do for fun. on that note, I think Epel wouldn't really have a complex about knitting -- partly because it IS a practical skill to have for those Harveston winters, and partly because he would have learned from Marja, and no one would dare imply Marja is anything less than absolutely badass.

meanwhile Ruggie is over here gleefully unravelling Leona's old sweaters so he can make himself a cashmere hat. it'sfreeyarn.jpg

Jack crochets little cozies and accessories for his cactus. he makes seasonal and holiday-themed versions with cute little sewn-on buttons and, you know what, now I need to draw event outfits for a cactus. hold on.

Deuce's mom definitely knits. he might've learned the basics from her when he was little, but never used them until recently, when he's been trying to pick it back up in order to make her a gift. (there's probably a heartwarming story in there about a special scarf or something that she made him that he's trying to replicate for her.) he's been at it for literally months now because he keeps screwing up his math and Riddle has to help him fix it.

Ace doesn't do any needlecraft, and razzed Deuce about it for a while until he found out the reason he was so Determined is because it's for his mom (and also the heartwarming story about the special scarf or whatever). so then he felt kind of guilty, and since he'd rather die than admit it, resolved to just never mention it again. except Deuce is so hilariously inept that not making fun of him is really, really hard. so Ace is just sitting there having a personal crisis every time Deuce whips out his needles and adorable little yarn basket. his life is so difficult. :(

Cater bought an amigurumi kit once when they were The Thing on Magicam. he made a few hedgehogs, took pictures, then gave them away to his friends and hasn't thought about them since. (Riddle was so moved by the gift that he forgot to yell at the first-years for a whole day. his hedgehog has a place of honor on his desk.)

Leona has never touched a needle in his life, and would be insulted if you implied he might enjoy expending a small amount of energy over anything he doesn't have to.

Kalim has touched a needle, once, when he tried to help mend something. he was so atrocious at it that Jamil forbade him from ever touching one again. if he started knitting it would probably give Jamil heart problems.

Azul strikes me as being someone who always has to be doing something. but he also doesn't like the inefficiency of spending so much time and effort without much return (personal satisfaction doesn't count). so I think he doesn't really do any crafting outside of whatever's necessary for whatever bit he's running at the moment…though maybe there's a tasteful stitched sampler or two hanging on a wall in Mostro. just because.

Jade is a little more crafty (ho ho, puns) outside of Schemes. by which I mean he exclusively makes mushroom-related decor and insists on hanging it up in Mostro. (Azul keeps asking him to stop. Jade pretends not to hear.)

Floyd once knit most of a densely-cabled fisherman's sweater in half a day. he got within 200 stitches of finishing before he got bored and never got back to it.

Vil probably, like…spent a week making a pair of cute mitts or something, and was really proud of them! then Neige made the mistake of getting super excited and trying to bond over it, and inadvertently soured Vil on knitting forever.

Rook I genuinely believe is both capable of doing everything, and also actively involved in using those skills at any given time. he could make an offhand remark about how he's been needlefelting tiny petals to stitch together into an elaborate rose-themed bodysuit and I would just be like "yep, that tracks."

he could also mention that he just put the finishing touches on the statue of Neige made out of hair that he keeps in the Hey Arnold-style shrine in his closet, and I would still be like "yep, that tracks".

I don't think Idia knits, but he might have bit of theoretical interest in it because of the relationship between knitting and binary? he probably spent a while trying to figure out if he could somehow make a playable version of Doom on a sweater. (it's magic, so yes. he doesn't want to actually have to make the sweater though.)

Ortho once made a hat and some mittens for Idia. it might be cold when they finally go to the park. :)

Malleus has a tapestry that's been his quick breather project for the last 400 years. he was vexed when he ran out of a color that hasn't been produced since the plant the dye came from went extinct a century ago. >:( the new flosses just aren't the same.

Sebek has tried embroidery in order to feel closer to ~wakasama~ but he doesn't have the patience for it. he's trying, though! his daisies are barely lazy at all these days! (he would probably actually be really good at knitting, since a lot of it is just…following instructions and doing math. since his main point of reference right now is Lilia, he hasn't figured this out.)

Lilia knits poorly and with much gusto. gauge? never heard of her. tension? this is supposed to be a relaxing hobby! it's unclear if he knows how bad he is, or if he's deliberately trying to see how embarrassing he can get before the others stop wearing the things he makes them. (they never will.) either way, he's having fun!

Silver was a self-sufficient little homestead boy by the time he was twelve, so of course he knows all the fun things you can do with wool (fortunately he learned how to knit before Lilia had a chance to ruin him) (idk, a friendly squirrel taught him or something, he's a literal disney princess his life is like that). he has a unique talent for being able to sit there asleep and somehow still spin perfectly consistent yarn.

look, I just want Silver to use a spinning wheel, c'mon

Neige and Silver both make tiny sweaters for orphaned baby animals. Neige's are more skilled (they have colorwork and little seed buttons) but Silver's are softer, since they're made from the wool that his forest bunny friends gather for him and donate to the cause. (Ace heard him mention this once and had to go have another personal crisis over it.)

this also ties into another absolutely unfounded headcanon I have about Silver and Neige being friends with the same bluebird family that alternates island sides for breakfast and dinner. there isn't any more to it, I just think it'd be cute. 🐦

orphan baby animals aside, Neige absolutely 1000% knits and you'll never convince me otherwise. he made that sweater. he made Snick's scarf. if you spend too long around him he'll have already started making you a cardigan in your favorite color. the dwarves don't knit because they don't have to. (wait, no, Timmy probably does -- you never actually see him do it, but every once in a while there's a new aggressively cute potholder added to the collection. Toby has tried, but he is physically incapable of not dropping stitches everywhere and ending up with a sad little pile of yarn.)

Che'nya says he does yarn sculpture, but really he's just batting the yarn balls around and leaving them for someone else to clean up.

Rollo does enormous cross-stitch recreations of illuminated manuscripts on 60-count linen (over one, of course). he will lecture you for two hours on how much he does not enjoy doing it and how that makes him better than you.

Mickey doesn't (I SAID EVERYONE). I'm sure his girlfriend knits though.

Crowley enters stitching competitions at the local fair. his depictions of handsome-looking ravens in top hats do better than you'd think, but he still keeps losing to goddamn Ambrose with his perfect backs and railroaded stitches and no hoop marks and…

resisting the urge to say that Crewel does crewel. failing.

…okay, but look, he does fashion design in canon, it MAKES SENSE --

Trein is a Good Cat Owner, so (after carefully researching durable and pet-safe materials) he crochets little mice with catnip inside. he gets a deep sense of satisfaction at seeing them get torn to shreds. :)

Sam doesn't partake himself, but he does have weirdly intricate knowledge of every potential needlecrafting technique and the associated tools -- which he just so happens to have in stock now!

like Rook, I do believe that Sam just…knows everything, through his "friends" or otherwise. he could start spouting details about the historic production of goldwork thread, and as long as he then offers to sell something to us while shouting gratuitous English, it would feel perfectly in-character.

you wouldn't think Vargas would be into crafting, but he did spend a week painstakingly painting antlers onto a hoodie for his deer cosplay. magic? pah! he didn't get these muscles by NOT smearing craft-store fabric paint everywhere BY HAND.

(this is also why Crewel agreed to wear the…thing…that Vargas made for his turn at being camp monster. he actually spent time and effort on it and the whole idea was giving Crewel his own personal crisis.)

this got so far away from me, I am so, so sorry

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #there's probably some in there somewhere? i forget what has and hasn't gotten to eng yet #long post #...again i am so sorry #i THINK i got everyone. there's probably some major character i somehow managed to embarrassingly forget about. oh god #(the mirror is exempted on account of not having hands)#disclaimer that i try to keep up with canon but i do sometimes miss or forget things #so if something contradicts canon that's just me being a doofus #i mean this is 100% me just making things up anyway so take it as you will #i am not in a right state of mind right now

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