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sluts4matt · 1 month

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DISTRACTION

pairing: rough!dom chris x sub!reader

summary: the two of you had been best friends for years. right after you get out of a bad relationship, chris is the first to be of distraction.

warnings: SMUT, mentions of a toxic relationship, swearing, making out, oral (female revieving), fingering, pet names (lots of the use of ma), praising, degrading, p in v, dumbification, dacryphilia, spanking, choking, hair pulling, overstimulation, LOTS of dirty talk, riding, backshots, ROUGHHH, all together just filth tbh.

words count: 2724

author's note: stop this is so filthy, like, whewy 😅. please don't read if you're uncomfortable with anything listed above. kind, constructive criticism welcome.

(loosely based on this song)

"he fucking cheated on you?" chris looked down at you, his eyes fuming. you had walked into his bedroom, a bitter laugh leaving your lips as you uttered the words you didn't truly want to admit.

"has been for fucking months, god i'm so fucking stupid," you mutter, your small hands sliding over your face in frustration. "it was right under my nose too, like how the fuck did I not realize."

you were rambling now, and chris could sense it.

he could feel your frustration, the sadness you were trying to repress. to him you were an open book, had been since the age of nine. and right now, he knew that the last thing you wanted was to be pitied, and so that was exactly what he was not going to do.

"hey, c'mere," chris spoke up, his hand grabbing your wrist and tugging you closer to his body. it ended with your legs being thrown over either side of his, straddling his lap.

you could feel his hardening dick under you, the way he shifted you around on his lap to get comfortable, but you didn't care. chris had always been like this, had always made it obvious that he thought you were attractive, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel the same.

the two of you were close. probably some of the most important people in each other's lives, and while the sexual tension had never really been addressed, it was there. it was definitely fucking there. you could feel him, his eyes roaming over your face, as if he was waiting for you to look him in the eyes.

you let your arms wrap around his neck, and you were suddenly hyperaware of the position the two of you were in. the way his arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you impossibly closer, and the way his nose nuzzled against the spot where your jaw met your neck.

"i'm sorry, sweetheart," chris finally whispered, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the sensitive skin, causing you to shiver. "he didn't deserve you."

his lips kept trailing along your skin, making your mind go foggy. you couldn't think about anything else other than his lips and the way they were making you feel.

"what are you doing, chris?" you asked him, a small giggle leaving your lips. “making my girl feel better, with a distraction,” chris whispered, and you swore you felt his teeth scrape along your skin.

my girl.

the way the two words rolled off his tongue sent a chill through your entire body, and before you could even think, your hand was sliding through his hair, tugging him impossibly closer.

chris groaned, and he could feel his dick harden even more under you, a feeling that had you whining softly. he let his head fall back, looking up at you. "tell me if you want me to stop, okay?" his voice was a whisper, a plea almost.

and god, he didn't want to stop. the way his best friend was sat on his lap, practically begging for him, it made him feel so many things. but just because he didn’t want to didn’t mean he wouldn’t if that’s what she wanted.

your hands slid down his chest, stopping right at his belt. "i want this, christopher." chris groaned. he hated when you used his full name, and you knew that. and that was exactly why you said it, a small smile tugging on your lips.

"say it again," chris said, his hands gripping onto your thighs. his fingers were digging into your skin, sure to leave bruises, but the thought made you moan. "i want this, christopher," you whispered, letting his name roll off your tongue as you grinded against his dick.

chris didn't even hesitate to grab your shirt, pulling it over your head, tossing it behind him. he flipped the two of you over, pinning your wrist above your head. "keep them there for me, angel."

the nickname made you shiver, and you nodded. he sat up on his knees, his fingers fumbling with the button on your jeans, before finally tugging them down your legs. he could see the wet spot on your panties, his hands running over your clothed cunt. "already soaked, baby."

he leaned down, attaching his lips to yours. his hands continued to run over the soft material, before he was ripping the fabric, a loud gasp leaving your lips. chris smirked, his lips still pressed against yours, kissing you hard and deep. he let his hand slide up your body, his finger wrapping around your throat, and squeezing.

"you're mine," chris growled, and you whimpered. "always been yours, chris." he smiled, letting his thumb run across your bottom lip. "that's right, huh, sweet girl,” he mumbled. his lips were trailing down your body, stopping when he reached your hips.

he bit the skin, hard, before licking the mark he left behind. the way your hands were gripping onto the bedsheets, knuckles turning white, only made chris smile. "do you think i can make you feel better than he ever did?" chris asked, his tone was cocky, and the thought of you saying no had him almost growling.

you could hear the anger in his voice, the jealousy. it turned you on even more, the thought of chris being jealous over you. "yes," you mumbled, your hips bucking up, desperately trying to find some type of friction. chris let out a chuckle, “so desperate for me, aren't you, princess?"

he kissed the inside of your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours. "look at you, all needy for me," chris mumbled, his finger sliding through your folds, groaning at the amount of slick he felt.

he didn't even give you time to respond before he was burying his head in between your thighs, his tongue lapping at your clit, sucking it into his mouth.

"christopher!" you moaned out, your back arching off the bed. the hand that wasn't wrapped around your throat was rubbing up and down your thigh, as if he was comforting you.

"taste so good," chris muttered, his lips moving to your entrance, licking a stripe up, before shoving his tongue in. he fucked you with his tongue, moaning at the way you were grinding against his face.

you couldn't focus on anything other than the way his tongue was fucking into you, the way his nose was nudging against your clit. the coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter, and you were sure you were about to come.

"chris, 'm gonna come," you whimpered, your hands reaching down, gripping his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. your hips grinned against his face, chasing the pleasure he was giving you.

chris could feel how close you were, the way your walls were fluttering around his tongue, and he could tell that you were trying to keep him close. "go ahead, sweetheart, come for me," he said, his words muffled. that was all it took for you to come, a loud moan leaving your lips, his name falling from them.

chris licked up everything you had to offer him, not wasting a single drop. his eyes were trained on your face, the way you were panting, trying to catch your breath. chris smiled, his lips trailing back up your body, kissing every inch of exposed skin he could. he finally reached your lips, connecting his own with yours.

you could taste yourself on his tongue, and the thought made you moan, a sound that was swallowed by chris' lips. his hand had left your throat, his fingers replacing his tongue. he easily slid two fingers into your cunt, your slickness allowing him to do so. you moaned into his mouth, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him close.

chris smiled against your lips, his fingers thrusting into you fast and hard, and it wasn't long before he was adding a third. you were already sensitive, your previous orgasm having barely settled, but you could feel another building, and it wasn't going to take long.

"gonna come again for me again, ma?" chris whispered, and you nodded your head, whines leaving your lips. "so pretty for me." his fingers were working quickly, his thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit, his eyes watching as your face scrunched up. "come for me, baby."

it was as if his words were all you needed, and you were coming for the second time. your nails were digging into his skin, and you were sure you were drawing blood, but chris didn't seem to care.

"so good, princess," chris mumbled, his fingers slowly moving out of your cunt, bringing them to your mouth. “wanna taste yourself?” you opened your mouth, letting him shove his fingers in. you moaned, sucking your own slick off of his fingers, and the way chris was looking at you made your brain go fuzzy.

he pulled his fingers out, and he could see the glossy look in your eyes. "you good?" he asked, his hands holding the side of your face. you nodded, leaning into his touch. "mhm."

he chuckled, before flipping the two of you back over, so that he was on his back, and you were straddling him. "want you to ride me, angel." you slid down his lap slightly, your hands going to undo his belt. "take off your clothes, chris."

he didn't hesitate, quickly taking his shirt off. the sight of him shirtless had your mouth watering, but you didn't have time to admire it.

he lifted his hips, letting you pull his jeans and boxers down. you could see his cock, and fuck. it was big, and thick, and you weren't even sure you'd be able to take all of him.

"c'mon, baby. let me see how pretty you are on my cock," chris groaned, and his words had you moaning. you lifted yourself up, letting him line himself up with your entrance. "i'll go slow, angel."

he pushed you down, his hands on your hips guiding you. the stretch burned, and it took everything in you not to whimper. "fuck," chris cursed, his head falling back. his hands were gripping onto your hips so hard, his nails digging into your skin.

you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, but once you bottomed out, you were fine. he gave you time to adjust, looking at you for confirmation before he started moving. you nodded your head, and that was all he needed.

his hips started thrusting up, his movements slow and gentle, and his eyes were watching your face for any signs of discomfort.

"more," you muttered, and he complied, his hips thrusting harder, his pace picking up. "always wanted this," chris groaned, his fingers wrapping around your throat, pulling you down to connect his lips with yours.

you moaned into his mouth, his hips thrusting up into you. the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping, and the way his cock was hitting your g spot had you seeing stars.

"fuck, fuck, please," you cried out, and the sound of your pleas had chris grunting. he moved one of his hands, letting it rest on your lower stomach, putting pressure on it, making him hit that spot even harder.

"feel so good," chris grunted, his grip tightening around your throat. "you like it when i choke you?" "yes, yes, love it," you whimpered, as tears fell down your cheeks.

the sight of his best friend crying above him because of how good he was making you feel had his hips thrusting harder, his hands grabbing at your body. he was sure his fingers were leaving bruises, and the thought had him growling.

"look so pretty taking my cock like a good little slut," chris grunted, and the dirty talk had you whining. "yeah? my baby likes being called a slut?" you nodded, a loud moan leaving your lips. "my pretty little slut."

he flipped the two of you over, chris hovering above you. he had a hand wrapped around your throat, his other hand resting beside your head. his lips were right against your ear, his voice low, growling.

his hips continued to drill into you, your eyes rolling back. you were barely able to form any thoughts, let alone sentences other than whimpers and whines.

"you feel so good, baby," chris grunted, and the way he was speaking made you moan. "gonna come," you cried out, the familiar feeling in your stomach starting to build. "i know, princess," he said, his hand moving to grip the bed sheets, his hips thrusting into you faster.

"fuck, please," you begged, with the way his hand was wrapped around your throat it had you seeing stars. the pleasure was intense, and chris could feel the way you were shaking, your walls fluttering around him.

"such a pretty little slut, crying for her best friend as he fucks her," he whispered, and the words were all you needed, sending you over the edge, your high washing over you. you came with a loud moan, the tears that were previously falling were now streaming down your face, the pleasure was overwhelming.

chris continued his brutal pace, his lips sucking marks into the sensitive skin of your neck. he pulled out flipping you over, "hands and knees, angel." he waited until you got into position before shoving himself back into you, both of you groaning. he let his hands wrap around your hair, pulling your head back.

his lips were attached to the spot between your neck and shoulder, his hips moving impossibly faster. the feeling was so intense, you could barely breathe. "fuck, please, chris," you were mumble-whining, unable to form any coherent sentences. the feeling was too much, too overwhelming. "can't talk, ma?"

chris chuckled, and the sound made your eyes roll back. his fingers were digging into the flesh of your hips, and you were sure that if he didn't have such a good grip on you, you would have collapsed by now. "my dumb little plaything, hmm?"

you whined, his words going straight to your cunt, causing you to clench around him. "already dripping again, hm? you like being my dumb little toy?"

you nodded, and he chuckled, letting go of your hair and pushing your face into the mattress. the change in angle had him hitting a different spot, and he was sure the sounds that were leaving your mouth were inhuman.

"christopher, chris, please," you were begging, and it was music to his ears. "what's wrong, princess?" he said, his hand rubbing your back as his thrusts slowed. "it's too much," you mumbled, and he could see the tears staining your face, the drool leaking out of the side of your mouth. "too much ma?"

you nodded, and his eyes widened.

"you want me to stop, princess?" chris said, and he was ready to pull out, when you shook your head. "want you to come," you whispered, and he smiled. "yeah, angel? my girl wants me to come in her tight little pussy?"

you nodded, and that was all it took for chris. his thrusts picked up, his fingers gripping the flesh of your hips. "gonna fill you up," chris grunted, his words going straight to your core, and suddenly you were coming once again.

you could feel his hot cum filling you up, and the way he was fucking into you had his seed leaking out of you. chris' head was resting on your back, and you were barely able to support the two of you, as your legs were shaking.

he pulled out, his hand swiping over your cunt, pushing his cum back into you. "keep it in, yeah?" he muttered, and the words made you shiver. chris laid on his back, pulling you to lay on his chest, his hands running up and down your body.

"you okay, angel?" chris asked, his eyes searching yours. he was worried he had pushed too far, and while it seemed like it, he didn't regret it. "yes, more than okay," you whispered, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

"good, good." there was a moment of silence, before he chris was breaking it.

"if i ever see that bastard, i'll fucking kill him."

#chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #nathan doe #nate doe #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #Spotify

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stabbystiletto · 1 year

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Bruh this doll is just too much, she's too beautiful 🥰🥰🥰🥺🥺🥺🖤💖🖤💖🖤

Bruh look. Lookit that sideye 👀👀👀 ⬇️⬇️⬇️

🧛‍♀️🧛‍♀️ 🧛‍♀️👄👄👄🦇🦇🦇🖤💖🖤💖🖤

#love her so much lololol 😆😆😆🥰🥰🥰🖤💖🖤💖🖤#honestly i have mixed feelings about the reboot as a whole though :/#on the one hand -> new mh dolls -> 😆😆😆#but on the other hand i feel like the designs in general are not as strong as the originals lol #i feel like they went for 'trendy' over 'fashion' which is a real shame #like the original lagoona's look was classic and held up really well over the years #the new lagoona is gonna look super dated in just a few years lol 😅#that being said drac's new design is a total win #i loved the original's face and outfit but i hated her hair lol 😅#the black with pink streaks and the pigtails #I'm not trying to say it was bad or anything it just wasn't to my personal tastes lolol 😅#but this half black half pink straight down look with the vamp cut bangs holy shit i love this 😍😍😍#and she even has a high ponytail in some of the other variants!! (granted they went back with the streaky hair for those ones but still 😐)#and the new body type is a total fucking win oh my god she looks amazing lolololol 😆😆😆#honestly i never particularly liked her before (rochelle and twyla were my faves lol 😆) but i think I'm hopping on the bandwagon now lolol #shitpost lol 😆#anyways long ass post woops lolololol 😅😅😅#also new count fabulous is cute but i miss the grumpy crusty old version lololol 😆😆😆😔😔😔

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honestsycrets · 7 months

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playing house | single parent au: mechanic!miguel x teacher!reader

❛ pairing | mechanic!miguel x teacher!reader; single parents au

❛ type | oneshot, explicit

❛ summary | gabi's on a hunt to get a mami. miguel doesn't really need help with it. or, Miguel trades mechanic work for love.

❛ tags | explicit, mechanic!miguel, first grade teacher!reader, some mention of hurt, heavy themes of voyeurism (both ways), single parents, unhygienic sxconditions, Spanish not translated, very domestic fic, f!reader, protective miguel, very light mutual jealousy.

❛ request fulfilled | Miguel is a single dad, Reader is his daughter's kindergarten teacher, and he is both very obviously crushing on her and very reluctant to say it. Fortunately, his daughter isn't! "Did you know my papi likes you?" Cue flustered Miguel. + BROOOO mechanic!miguel is hot please tell

❛ sy's notes | flashback to that one time a car fell on my tio. 😅

The job was a simple part replacement. A fizzled-out chunk of metal that would cost any single mother more in labor and puff costs at any mechanic shop. But not with Miguel, who was known around the barrio for his begrudging care. He’d do any job Lyla brought to him for any madre around who needed him.

He wrung his hands out on his stained top and lifted his head out of the hood of an old but faithful car. After a click and a lock, he turned his eyes toward the dusty cover. Syncopated beats trill from a radio ring background static that he’s long since zoned out to focus on his work. He wiped his forehead and looked at the trampled grass underneath a cheap plastic pool.

“Gabriella, bring me the manguera,” he called out to his little girl, who looked at the hose in her little pool bobbing with poppy bright toys. The older she got, the worse her loneliness became. Not due to any ill-doing of Miguel who always tried his best to be present. For some reason, Miguel couldn’t bring himself to date in anything but short bursts.

“Papi, look across the street. New neighbors!” Gabriella cooed delightfully. She splashed out of the pool with the long emerald green hose in hand, bobbing over on her long skinny legs. “It’s a girl. A pretty girl! And she’s looking right at you!”

Like that was a new occurrence. Miguel turned his hand over his sun-bright daughter’s short, sodden braids that whipped just over her shoulder. She stood in place, bouncing delightfully over newcomers. There were many viejitos in the cul-de-sac, but not enough kids.

“¿Y qué, mi vida?” he asked her. His hand shipped free from her hair. “She’s probably taking in the barrio.”

“I think she is! You!”

He threw a glance over his shoulder only to find your prying eyes eating him up from across the street. You speak to a pair of movers-- but your eyes slipped away from theirs, where he stood with his little girl. The hose dumped water onto the street. Water that he’d usually be extra concerned about wasting. Today, he was more interested in a game.

His dirty white t-shirt is matted to his back, soaked in the sweat of the day. He gripped the bottom of his t-shirt on either side and tugged it over his head. It pulls on his well-corded arms, protesting its release from his body. Miguel slipped it over his shoulder and proceeded to release bits of sweat from his thick hair. An adorable gasp fell free from your lips, replaced by your hand over your lush lips, snapping back to attention.

“You’re right, Gabi.”

He took the sputtering hose from her and cracked a begrudging smile. Gabriella waved eagerly-- and to his surprise, you waved back. If it wasn’t the hot sun beating down your face, it was the embarrassment on your face. You settled the sunglasses on the cute crook of your nose. With that, Gabriella helps him wash the car until her most hated part, drying it with old towels and bits of Miguel’s ripped old shirts.

“Hola!”

“Coño,” Miguel cursed in surprise, turning around to face you. In your hand was a clear plastic bag stuffed full of the filled corn husks, warmth steamed its sides. Miguel glanced down at the bag in your comparatively soft hands, drawing his sweaty shirt over his cut muscles to wipe away the sweat that slicked his dusky skin.

“I brought you and your lindita tamales.”

“Tamales!” Gabriella cooed, her hands cradling a limonada. They made it together, like clockwork every Sunday. “I love tamales!”

“Don’t old neighbors bring new one’s food?” Miguel bit out, a bit annoyed. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate food, it would save him countless bright-ass early meals dragging himself out of bed to make Gabriella something with school right around the corner. He’s annoyed at that star-bright smile you have whipped across your face. It stirred excitement he thought he killed a long time ago. “Or are you just a show-off?”

“I teach first grade at the school across the street,” you ignored his snark and looked none the more bothered by it. There’s some magic in a woman that didn’t feed into his shit. You provided Miguel with a name that felt familiar to all the orientation packets he received just this week. “Ya tú sabes, umm, at Carillo’s.”

Of course.

“That’s where I go!” Gabriella beams. “I’m Gabriella O’Hara and I’m going to be in first grade, right papi? This is my papi. His name is Miguel.”

Damn it all. Miguel slaps his sweaty shirt on the top of the car. You kneel down, offering her up the tamales instead of Miguel. He blinks through his sudden irritation, realizing that he’s fucked now. Gabriella grabs the plastic bag, giggling delightfully over them.

“Then maybe you’ll be in my class, Miss O’Hara.”

When he checks her orientation paperwork-- there it is. He suddenly felt the pressure of the ordeal, of the pretty next-door neighbor who wore flowy dresses and apparently, loved muscles. His eye darted out to the window, the movers zipping off in a whir of color, leaving you just there, spinning around in the driveway of your new home, nearly too sun-bright.

Maybe it’s tied to being a father, but Miguel notices little things you do. Some are ineffectual. Others are dangerous. You leave your bedroom window wide open as you change. Miguel sat outside on Gabriella’s swing on his second cup of coffee for the day when he noticed it for the first time.

You come in from your shower and scurry about your room nearly naked. Then, cupping your breasts between your hands, you whirled around for a set of underwear. From this far, he can’t quite make out the color. It might be red. Not a poppy red, but a deep, soothing red he recognizes from his dead wife’s wardrobe.

He wasn’t sure why you wouldn’t just change in the bathroom, but in any case, it was… dangerous. Any freak walking by could see you changing. Mimi’s room had very well-used blinds and yours did not. He turns his attention back to the newspaper on his lap. Nueva York stalker confesses to stabbing murder in five-year-old cold case. He scrunched his nose at the news and drank a coffee that had long since gone cold.

Sometime later, your front door swung open. Mimi busted through, a little girl with long black twists and black eyes that held a similar excitement for the weekend. It was her papi time. Gabriella doesn’t have that luxury, two homes full of warmth. Just one, with a papi who loved her more than life itself. Miguel hopes it’s enough. He left his newspaper on the bench as you settled her in the car, making his jog across the street.

“You should buy blinds,” Miguel said the second you shut the door. You jumped, your hand on the locket on your chest.

“Ay dios, it’s just you. You shouldn’t walk up on a woman like that, Miguel,” you laughed. “Especially not a single mother.”

“You’re painfully oblivious. Buy some blinds for your room. It isn’t safe.”

Dry as his tone was, it was laced with concern. If there was no one in your life to tell you what he thought was obvious, he would. “You saw me? How much did you... see?”

He responds with a dull stare, his gaze falling to the red strap of your bra that set slightly off-kilter along your slight shoulders. You sucked in a breath to calm yourself, your heart beating at a rapid pace behind your modest shirt. You reached up to hide the strap. A frown marred his contrite features.

“You look beautiful in red,” he found himself muttering, pushing off of the back of the car without another word. He beat himself up for that-- stupid, stupid response. Because of course you know you look gorgeous. He didn’t need to say it out loud.

“Gracias, papi,” you called after him.

He hoped he was not flung into the creep category after that winning display.

You bought blinds for your window and a swing for Mimi’s new, sturdy tree. Its long arms offer some reprieve from the heat, casting a shadow on the small house. It wasn't long before you spent days on heaps of homework from the kids and a glitter-bright pen to grade spelling tests.

It's nice to have a little bit of company as he works on cars and yard work, even if you watch him like a voyeur, blushing if he notices, gasping if he plays into this new little game. At some point, he voided his shirts altogether. It’s not long before Gabriella has a game of her own to play.

“Psst, Lyla. Vente, Lyla.”

Gabriella sits boredly in the shop after school. Sometimes in his office, other times in the shop during breaks. One of his technicians, Lyla, sat on an upside-down bucket by Miguel’s side as he worked on a car. This time, it was a stupid simple fix. The idiot ripped off their bumper parking too far on a curb. Lyla sat in gold coveralls, undoubtedly grinning behind that black mask slapped across her face. He didn’t need to look away from the clips he was applying to know they were both up to shit.

“Yeah?”

“Papi has a crush on my teacher. I think she could be my new mami. If--”

“Miguel has a crush?” His other tech, Peter chirped up with a hunk of sandwich in his fingertips. How was he always slacking off and eating? Miguel didn't know, but he was. “I can't believe it. He hasn’t had a crush since Tem--”

“I don’t have a crush,” Miguel responded. “Less scheming, more homework, kid. She told me you’re behind on schoolwork.”

She does so well on spelling tests, Miguel, you told him at parent-teacher conferences. But she never turns in homework.

Gabriella was not behind because she was stupid. She was behind because she was a stubborn little child who, Miguel knew, was trying to set him up. Lyla abandoned the bucket to walk over near Gabriella’s unicorn table, pulling out a microsized table and looking down at the stupid simple homework. Single-digit numbers were a painful waste of time to a kid who loved math.

“She’s single?”

“Yup,” Gabi chirped, scratching away at her coloring page with a fat purple crayon. “Mimi told me.”

“No boyfriend?”

“No boyfriend. I double-checked. And get this, she said she would come help me with homework.”

“Lyla.” Miguel shoved the opposite end of the bumper in place, securing it carefully. Lyla was bent down by Gabriella. So Papi has more time to see her! Gabriella whispered. He may not know what you’re saying, but he knows it’s bad by the way she looks at him. As though she were a cat might with a glass it was about to shatter on the floor. “You can go home now.”

His daughter doesn’t need any more of her devilish attributes.

“You fucked it alright, mujer. What did you hit?”

Miguel twisted a bit of the sidewall between his fingers to gauge the depth of the hole. Never mind that the back passenger wheel whistled away until it ran flat. It wasn’t the first time someone brought him a car that was fucked. It was the first time you had.

You never asked him for anything, not at the price of your pride. You simply… made it work. Just like Miguel made childcare work by leaving his shop to pick Gabriella up and leaving her bored as fuck every weekday until he could close up shop.

Today, Mimi and Gabriella were inside, playing with dolls after a warm dinner of arroz blanco and fatty pork chops. He wasn’t much a fan of your sickly sweet platano, but he tried it tonight after Gabriella hounded him. Don’t be rude, papi! He’s gotten used to coming home on Wednesday to dinner. It’s something that he realizes he’s missed: having someone to come home to.

“A pothole,” you murmured shyly. His forehead rippled into wrinkles, holding the chunk of broken-off rubber between his fingertips. He rubbed the exhaustion out of his dark eyes, minding the nervous twiddling of your fingers.

“A pothole,” he repeated after you. No matter how many times he considered it, it did not fit. His body was ripe with aggravated energy. He’s too tired for this. The shit he’d seen in his shop and you expected him to believe that you hit-- a pothole? “Qué mierda.”

Miguel set his hands on his hip, rolled on his heel, and stepped back to inspect his future work. His body thrummed, a tightness pulling with the sight of your shy smile. The truth tittered on your luscious little lips.

“I may or may not have hit those rocks by Doña Díaz’s casita.” One look around the street revealed the chunky, pointy rocks you referenced. Miguel flicked the bit of rubber onto the top of the car and looked at you. You were guilty as the day was long. “They weren’t that far off the curb before! I know that it’s bad. Do you think you could-- fix it?”

“You’re going to have to replace those two,” Miguel gestured. “What, did you not see the massive rocks on the side of the road? What were you doing? Eres una mama, you have to pay attention, por dios. You could have been hurt.”

Your eyes darted to the wheels. The nervousness was strong, nearly all-consuming, bidding you to shut up. Though it was a good question, the shame that flecked your eyes was enough to cause Miguel to move on. He knew you were likely inattentive, your mind hovering somewhere else than the quiet cul-de-sac.

“I… had a bad date, Miguel. I was upset and dizzy and… Don’t tell anyone, please.”

The pain of being a woman. His eyes soften as he reaches out, his large hand warm on your slight shoulder. A pulse of warmth rushed through his hand as you leaned in, your cheek plastered to his stained top. He smelled of oil and sweat, but somehow, you find it comforting. Your hands come over his back, tugging on the dark coveralls.

“It’s alright,” Miguel sighed. He'd tell you not to pick shit men-- but sometimes, as he knew, that didn't matter at all. “I’ll have it fixed.”

“I don’t have that much money, Miguel,” you began. “I have to take care of the kids, my house, Mimi. I…”

“No te preocupes. You can do something else for me.”

You drew in a small, choked breath. The type that settled in your chest and did not leave. Not until Miguel’s arms wound over your waist to soothe you through the pain and pressed a kiss that lasted entirely too long to the top of your head. It’s the first time he wants another.

“She is dating,” Peter said. “You know what that means? It means you’re on a time crunch. She could always meet the one!”

"I'm not concerned about it."

The one, Miguel shook his head as he paced past the car he was propping up. He never heard anything more ludicrous. There was no such thing as the one. There was only a range of possibilities to pick from. At any point, life can happen. Then your one is gone-- and you’re left with only the memories and a body to bury. Still, as he clambered underneath the car, he found that he quite didn’t like the thought of you out with anyone else... especially not men who may or may not spike your drink.

“You should ask her to a date. Like, more than playing house with sticky kids and lasagna.”

“She’s never made me lasagna.”

Peter sloppily suckled on his fingers, the juice running down his thin wrists. “Then what was lunch?”

“Pastelón,” he answers bitterly. “It’s… plantain lasagna.”

“Okay, I thought you didn’t like--”

“I don't-- I eat it because she spends time on it.”

Peter sucked in a breath, eyes wide. He’s about to say something terribly unuseful, something like how Miguel has it bad. Miguel knows he does, half-formed images of what a family could be every day he went to pick Gabriella up, homework done, and happily fed. A feat in itself.

In place of that, though, were the car’s melded, mechanical squeals. He has but a moment and a half-formed plan that goes up in smoke the next second that it falls on his arm. He hears Peter’s half-formed, panicked shout to Lyla and recalls the flurry of steps and medical attention sometime later.

Admittedly, he did tell you to be careful.

When he wakes up, so does everyone else. Lyla chastizes him with her hands balled up on her hips, Peter sobs almost twice as much as Gabriella does until the two are dead asleep against his bed. Miguel’s eyes have rolled way too far.

“Is he finally asleep?” you peep into his heavy hospital door with a ginger knock of your knuckles. Miguel throws a look at Peter’s squishy face, half slumped over.

“Hermosa, I thought he’d never stop,” he grumbled.

“You scared him.”

Tch. Miguel watched you pick up Gabriella, settling her on the stiff pull-out bed. He foggily asked you what time it was, close to the end of visiting hours. He’d need to arrange something for Gabi with Lyla taking care of the shop. It itched at his throat.

“Gabi too. Should I…”

“Take her home for me,” he grumbled. “I’ll be back tomorrow. It’s just a broken arm.”

“You coughed up blood, Miggy. You could have died if Peter wasn’t there.”

Miggy. You finally used the nickname somewhere between Wednesday dinner dates and a car slumping on him. Miguel throws a growl to the side, using his non-fucked hand to pet the top of Peter’s head. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew you were right.

“What happens if… something happens to you?”

“With Gabi?” he asks.

"Sí. With everything."

You nod, looking idly at his little daughter, still in her school clothes. You brought her as soon as school was over, soothed the panic in her voice, the thought of becoming an orphan just because the car had cracked his arm. She wouldn’t have remembered her mother’s death, it was far too long ago now.

“Lyla. Why the face? If you’re jealous, know that was the agreement with my wife before she was murdered.”

You hadn’t known you were making a face, but you were to the trained eye. Some small pout of your lip, tears welling at the corner of your eyes. Miguel shoves himself up on the bed, straining sore muscles. It was going to be a long night. A longer month or two until he was up and running again.

“I’m not making a face. It's just... You were reckless when you're usually so careful. I'm wondering why. I'm sorry.”

"It's fine," Miguel urged you to come closer. "Come here."

You slid into his chair, tentatively sneaking your hand on top of his. Miguel wanted to tell you more. There was not another friend nearly so close, one that would take care of everything and anything he needed. He's suddenly aware of his situation. It would be difficult to make a woman secure that he'd not tied down yet. You clearly care-- based on the insecurity in your eyes.

You’re on a time crunch. She could always meet the one.

He doesn't want to miss his shot. He brought your hand to his lips, straining with a pained little grunt. You stood up to help him, allowing his lips to flutter over the back of your hand in a small kiss at his urging.

“Trust me. She’s not a threat,” he said. “You’ll take Gabi with you?”

“Of course, Miggy. Anything you need.”

Securing a relationship would just have to wait.

The first day back, Miguel sent Gabriella off with Lyla. Mimi is off with her papa, leaving you with nothing but time. He finally saw his projects through without Peter loitering over his shoulder, revitalizing cars with bad radiators and fizzled-out air compressors. As if Peter was the boss and he were the employee. The grease under his fingers feels more like Miguel than any squeaky clean shower you’ve helped him take. Yes, you’ve helped him take. He could have asked Lyla or Peter, but why over-extend their lives when you lived in his home for the past month to take care of Gabriella anyway?

He wonders what you thought, stripping him down to nothing, seeing his naked thighs, watching him clean sensitive bits that, as you lied, you were not looking at. He finds it cute, the way you tried to look away, but of course-- you always snuck a look. You’re nosy by nature. He’s never been ashamed of his body, though. For all the work you did, he thinks you deserve a look.

“Miggy,” you slipped through the side door, your heels clicking over a greased-up floor. He hopes you don’t fall, arms deep in the hood of a shiny dark blue convertible. It’s nearly perfect. “I got your message. You said we need to talk?”

“Don’t slip.”

Miguel whirled a wrench into its place, slammed the hood shut, and rubbed the grease on his hands together. Like it will come off his callouses. Miguel meets you half way, offering you his greased up hand. You look down at his hand, then up to Miguel again. He half thinks you won’t take it, but you do, allowing him to whirl you in a spin before lifting you on top od the hood of the car.

“Ay Miggy--” you cursed, looking down at the car. It shone bright, its smooth metal cold under your bare thighs. He pins you in place as you attempt to wiggle off, nearly jiggling your way onto his lap. “The owner will be mad--”

“It’s mine and I’m not.” He explains. “I know what I want.”

“You want…?”

“For the work on your car.” It’s cute how clueless you act, holding your breath as his fingers course past your bare thighs. You barely manage to choke the words out, your hands inching on his. He replaces himself between your thighs. You both know that you more than made up for the few hundred dollars in repairs with the work you’d done for him in a month. Holding your breath, you nod.

“Tell me.”

“I want a night with you.”

You didn’t know what to say, leaning your trembling fingers up to the bits of dark brown hair that accentuated the wrinkles on the corner of his eyes. You met his eyes, trained on your own, challenging you to respond. Words formed in a mishmash of nonsense on your tongue. You take the chance to press your lips on his, your hand suddenly cradling the side of his face for some stability. You were hardly comfortable on his car, but Miguel didn’t seem to care, biding your lower lip to open and let him in. You relinquish, savoring the distant taste of roasted coffee on his tongue, his fingers teasing along your thighs.

“That’s not an answer,” Miguel pulled back from your lips for an instant. He graces your neck with soft kisses, leaving the occasional bite and tug just in case-- he doesn’t need another man thinking he has so much as a chance. Your big man pins you down onto the car like you were weightless, any willingness to inch away tempered by his mass.

“Depends,” you answered. “I want this to be an every night kind of thing.”

“Consider it a trade.” He chuckled against your neck, the heat from his lips traveled across the valley of your breasts. You complied with his desire and let him slip your breasts free from your romper. His mouth closed his mouth over your nipple. His greasy hands melded your breasts between his desperate hands, tongue prodding your nipple fat. Your legs met his hungry performance by pulling him forward, his scratchy belt against your clothed cunt.

“Careful,” he teased. His hand fell to his bulge, unbuttoning his stained pants. You watched him pull himself free, pulling panties and romper alike to the side of your lips. Your lips parted, much like that very first day you met him, sundered by the sight of his cock. This time, fully hard. He doesn’t enter your cunt-- no, he’s patient, slotting himself between your folds for a teasing grind. His dick twitched in response, eager to finally fuck you. “You’ll fall off.”

“It’s your fault. You could have asked over dinner.” He greets your complaint with a nod, flicking your other breast. He envelops the other nipple between his mouth, his teeth grazing along the sensitive skin. You take a long breath, hips leaning up against his firm length.

“Like that would be anything new. We always have dinner,” Miguel murmured in protest. “A far better use of our time is soaking your pretty cunt with my cum on this car before dinner.”

He felt your cunt clench at nothing. His hips, thrusting against your mound, nudged over your wet little folds, knocked against your greedy clit. Before you could respond, Miguel popped off your nipple again, “You like that thought? Going to dinner leaking?”

“Miggy, por dios,” you complained. “Stop dry humping and give it to me.”

He huffed darkly, snatching one of your thighs and leaning back. He spreads your lips, inspecting his work. You were wet, but not just wet, soaking his car. Miguel brought his other palm to wipe your wetness away, jerking himself with the fluid. He tests your reaction by nudging the head of his cock against your unprepared hole.

“Miguel,” you bit out, this time a warning.

“Ya te oigo,” Miguel loomed over you, pinning your shoulder back to his glistening car. You don’t debate him on that, allowing him to say whatever he wants if it would just get him inside. Miguel relinquishes control, pushing inside of your tightness. He bit back a groan, pushing past your body’s resistance, throbbing against your core. Your hands fisted his dirty shirt, cunt split wide on his cock, and glad for it.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his hands securing themselves on your hips. He gives you a moment to catch your breath before he pulls nearly free, slamming forth just a moment later. Breath punched out of your throat, his cock rocking your cunt nice and full. You loved this-- looking beautiful and full just for him. He knew it too, “Hermosa.”

Miguel held his arm tight around your thigh, holding you flush against his rutting hips. His balls slapped your ass, pulling tight. You were distantly aware of his thumb at your clit, leaning your hips into his thrusts the best you could. You could only squirm to keep yourself upright on his car despite feeling your body sliding into his. His thumb worked in insistent, tight circles, forcing the pleasure to burrow in your low belly, tightening over him. It’s no marker of your performance, you think, hoping he’d give you another chance to be anything but a toy on his cock.

“No, no puedo--” you whined, your hands dipping under his shirt to scratch at his finely cut muscles, knowing you were about to gush.

“Do it,” Miguel grunts in response, his thumb more insistent. You’re not entirely proud of the way you came, creaming his cock desperately. He held strong, smothering his own groans if only for the pleasure of hearing your passionate cries. You come to moments after, Miguel’s thrusts now intent on his own pleasure.

“Come on, papi,” you worshipped. “Cum in me.”

“Fuck,” Miguel complied, his dirty nails causing sharp indentions on your thigh and hip. His sticky cum fills you in a few deep thrusts, each more forceful than the last, and he’s spent. If he was dirty before, he was filthy now. Miguel catches your lips in a lingering kiss, going soft in your body. He knew the second he pulled out your cum was soaking his now-dented car.

His eyes peeled open to find your gaze on him, tracing fresh superficial scratches on his belly. Of course, you are-- you’re a hungry addict. Miguel pulled himself free and looked for a cloth that wasn’t grease soaked to clean your cunt with. You piece yourself together and slide off his car.

“Let’s go.”

“¿Qué?” he zips himself back into his pants.

“You promised me dinner.”

He sighs-- just as long as it wasn’t lasagna.

There’s something attractive about your love of children.

He thinks it’s likely because he’s never had that himself. His mother was a beast of a woman. Never affectionate. At least, not with him. After his wife’s subsequent death, life proceeded in a vacuum. The years passed: first one. Then six. Then he was here, holding a bundle of jewel-bright roses against an uncharacteristically clean button-up, walking down the dull blue carpet of the beige hallway to the pod that usually held the kids. For all the days you tolerated him smeared and slathered, you deserved a good display.

They were usually alight with noise, rambling on about their latest toy or prattling on about a mommy that Gabriella just did not have. The more she grew, the more important it became to have that for her-- maybe it was more for himself. Today, that hall was dead of life.

“Gabi, I hear your papi,” you called from somewhere inside. He hears her subsequent pitter-patter of feet across the carpet, popping out with Mimi from the door before he can open it. Miguel cocked his head, a sigh working on his lips. They whirled the door shut. Gabi bolted to your would-be desk and slapped her tanned palms on the tabletop.

“Maestra, maestra!”

Ah, damn it all. Miguel’s hand hovers around the knob, chewing on the next thought. He couldn’t really blame the kid for what she was about to say, because he knew exactly what she was about to do.

“¿Mande?”

“I have something to tell you, it’s really important. Papi likes you, did you know my papi really, really likes you?”

There’s a pause. Then a slight, amused giggle from Mimi. It’s short-lived as he pulls open the door, loathing this dumb thing called Teacher’s Week that leaves him with a bundle of flowers and instant regret.

“Sí, Gabriella. I know he does. I like him too. He’s so cute.”

If he weren’t so dark, he’d worry about the flush in his face with the embarrassment of being outed by his little girl. He stares at your hands on Gabriella’s, then at the small sea of desks and colorful name tags to break some of the tension, hardening his face to shield it from the embarrassment. Was he really so obvious?

“Hola Miggy.”

You scoot out of your chair.

“Hola,” he sighs, remembering he was holding flowers. He slides them into your hands, hooking his hands on his slender hips. “This is… Gabi wanted to give you flowers.”

“I never said that,” she chirped, bouncing his way. “You said--”

“Gabriella.” Miguel hisses, his tone sharp at her interjection. She goes dead silent by Mimi's side, staring up at him with watery eyes. He jerks his head in the direction of the quartet of desks she sits at. “Go get your things.”

“I think Papi is embarrassed,” you whisper, crouching down to rub her little back, soothing down her milky white top. “I’ll talk to him and make it better, okay? Go with Mimi.”

“Okay.”

Mimi bounded off behind Gabi, stuffing her bag with her colorful work and chunky crayons. Miguel exhaled air, staring at her powdery blue backpack for something other than the complete and utter embarrassment that yet someone else had called him out. If it wasn't Peter, it was his daughter.

Had he been this obvious the whole time?

“Don’t be too hard on her tonight,” He peered down at you, small in the grand scheme of his height and musculature. You pecked a small kiss on his lips, stroking his week-old stubble, just enough to cool Miguel’s teetering nerves. “It’ll be better when she finds out.”

#miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara/reader #atsv imagine #atsv imagines #miguel o'hara smut #atsv fic #atsv fanfiction #miguel/reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel fic #atsv x reader #across the spiderverse imagine #across the spiderverse fic #spider 2099 x reader

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anastasiabowe · 19 days

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𝙍𝙄𝘾𝙃 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙉 — As a broke college student, it’s not wrong to want a rich husband! That doesn’t mean you’re a gold digger, or will stoop so low you will ruin your worth, it just means you want a man who will take care of you, and guess what? You found him.

note: this will be a 3 part series! First one I’ve ever made and may be my last! So please not too much on these writings! Luv you!

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄 𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄𝙄 𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄𝙄𝙄

Content Warnings: Language..? Nothing other than that!

Nanami stared at his reflection.

“Nanami, get it together. It’s just a date, you’ve done them plenty of times.”

Nanami repeated that to himself and each time he got more nervous. His hands were now sticky with sweat, and his stomach began to hurt from the nerves. Nanami has never been this nervous, not even for business meetings that can determine his companies status or funds.

Nanami’s phone chimed a little song as his alarm went off. It was 5:15 and he needed to leave for his date.

He went to his sink and washed the sweat from his hands. He grabbed his car keys and headed to his garage.

Once he got in his car and started driving, he didn’t want to do this date anymore. What if you found him ugly? I mean the photos he chose weren’t the best, but what if you were expecting younger, or handsomer?!

He pulled into Hermès’ parking lot, and he went to park in a spot as close to the restaurant in case of a quick exit he may have to make.

He sat in his car as the clock ticked. It was only 5:25, and his reservation wouldn’t be ready for another five minutes. He took a deep breath, and made his way into the luxurious restaurant. He signed in, and the Server brought him to his table. Nanami thanked him as the server said he would be right back and Nanami nodded. Just as he sat down his phone chimed and he picked it up.

He saw a message from Haibara.

H: “Hey dude, just wanted to wish you luck. Remember, don’t think too much and act like you. It’s not as complicated as you think! Alright, I gotta go, tell me all about the date after it, or tomorrow!

N: Thank you, I really appreciate it Haibara. I will tell you all about it tomorrow!

Nanami smiled, Haibara was too good for him. His phone chimed again and a message from you appeared on his screen.

Y: “Hey Kento! I might be running late, I missed my bus, so it might take me a few minutes! (Hopefully it’s not a deal breaker😅)

Nanami laughed to himself while also internally punching himself. Why didn’t he offer you a ride!? Oh he’s such an idiot! While Nanami cursed himself for mistakes he didn’t even make, the waiter looked at him in slight discomfort.

“Sir?” Nanami jerked his head towards the young man, startled by his sudden appearance.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” Nanami kindly apologized.

“Oh, it’s not problem, at all! I was just wondering if you were waiting for someone, if not, are you ready to order drinks?” The young man so kindly asked the clueless Nanami the 4th time about what his plans were at the restaurant.

“Yes, I am waiting for someone, you can come back in five minutes, sorry for the troubles.” Nanami felt like an absolute clown. He is recognizable. He bets the waiter felt bad for him, thinking he was stood up, so he lingered to keep him company.

“Alright, I will be back shortly!” The young gentleman walked away, and Nanami checked his phone to see another message from you.

Y:“Hi! I’m at the front, the woman won’t let me in unless the person who made the reservation comes and gets me..”

Nanami sighed, places like these makes him hate reservations. He walks towards the front, and he couldn’t help but fucking forget how to breathe.

He saw you standing in a deep green dress. It was so flattering on your body, Nanami had to bite his lip to hold back the groan he wanted to let out.

“Hello, I am Kento Nanami. This is my date, please let her in.” Nanami’s stern voice irritatingly informed the woman. She looked up at Nanami with slight fear, she was different from the other guy who let him in, so she must be new.

You awkwardly smiled at the woman and walked towards Nanami. Nanami stepped to the side to let you walk past, and he eyed the woman up and down.

Nanami followed you and soon lead you to the table, and he pulled out your seat to help you sit down. He cringed at himself for acting so out of character for you. He never once felt or done this for a date, and so this all feels so forced.

“Thank you.” Your soft, sweet, voice quietly giggled and thanked him as you scooted your chair in with the help of Nanami.

“No problem.” He grunted. The awkward tension between you two was thick, but praise to god above, the waiter came over to the table.

“Glad to see your date arrived Mr. Nanami.” The waiter smirked towards Nanami, Nanami not finding it very funny. You looked in between them both, it just have been an inside joke.

“Can I get you both started with drinks?”

You looked at Nanami, insinuating him to order first.

“Um, What’s your finest wine?”

“That would be the Romanée-Conti, sir.”

“Then I will have that.” Nanami cleared his throat. You smirked, and looked at the waiter.

“A water would be fine, thank you.” The waiter nodded.

“I will be right back with your drinks.” Nanami and you both nodded back.

“So you don’t drink wine?”

“I’m 20.” You smiled at him.

Nanami felt a spring burst in his ear. You were 20, how could he forget!

“I’m sorry, I knew that, I do not know what’s come over me!" He scoffed at himself.

"Oh, no worries at all!" You awkwardly laughed. You hoped he wasn't too upset for forgetting your age..

"I tried a few types of wine before when I went to Europe with my family a while ago, I didn't really like any of them." You smiled, hopefully that helped ease his nerves.

Nanami chuckled, trying to erase the embarrassment he felt for acting so childish. No one would be offended if someone forgets their age..! "Am I a fucking child?! Who would get mad if I forget their age!" Nanami thought to himself.

"Wine is not for everyone. Took me a while to find my niche." Nanami smiled, making eye contact. You looked down when you caught his eyes, and tried to hide the smile that was creeping on your face.

Nanami knew that look, and felt his heart warm. "So, tell me, Y/n," he cleared his throat. "What are you majoring in?"

You looked back up, surprised at his question. "Uh, I'm majoring in business!" You smirked, seeing a sparkle appear in his eyes. You knew he loved to talk about business, hence everything in his profile was about business.

"interesting. Are you planning on starting one?"

"yes! I mean, I'm not sure what I want to do with any businesses I might create, but they're somewhere on the line of some sort of marketing." Nanami couldn't find you any more perfect. Not only are you beautiful and smart, you both share the same interests!

"Wow, I mean, if you need any help starting a business, you can always ask me. I've helped over 300 people start a business and 98% of them were successful." Your heart beated at the thought of having your own business and maybe a partner to help you through it all.

"really? I couldn't ask you to do that."

"I would love to, my favorite thing is to help others succeed. That's the whole point of my company."

You softly smiled, honestly completely out of words.

"Just let me know. But, let's put that aside, I'm curious, why were you truly on Richify?"

You laughed, you knew he would ask, I mean it was a very valid question.

"I could ask the same for you, but to tell you the truth, I want a rich husband." You were utterly amazed by how honest you were being. You barely know Kento and here you are telling him your selfish desires.

He lifted both of his eyebrows in shock, but had a playful smirk dancing on his face.

"Oh, is that so?"

"I don't like dating around. For the few guys I've been with, after maybe the second date, they just weren't the one so I limited who I met with and who I talked to." You scratched your head, hoping he agreed.

Nanami thought about his words carefully.

"Exactly that. I don't get how people can just hop from person to person, I can't stand the thought of it." Nanami chuckled, you chuckling with him.

"yeah, but you seem like someone worth my time." This time those words actually came out of your mouth on their own. You slapped your hand over your mouth. Nanami chuckled, amused by your slight embarrassment.

"is that so?" Nanami puting more emphasis on 'that'.

"I don't know why I said that.." you shyly giggle. He only eyed you down, making you more nervous.

"don't worry, I think you're worth my time also." Nanami winked, you smiled, and started to ease up. The waiter came back with the wine and water.

"Here you..go." he carefully set the wine glasses down, alongside a pitcher of water and a bottle of wine.

"would you like me to pour you your wine, or would you prefer to have the bottle?"

"I'll take the bottle, thank you."

"alright, are you both ready to order?"

You and Nanami gave him your respective orders, and the rest of the night went really well!

As the night went on, you found out truly why nanami was on that app and what his true desires were. The desires of wanting his own family, a family that didn't worry about money, a family that loved each other. You couldn't help but think about how a man with such power and influence would want such a normal life. But, you also smiled thinking about how much you both wanted the same thing.

You both also talked about how it was for a girl so young to not find any guys, and a guy so old to not find any girls and how funny it was that you both met.

You both also started to talk about things more deeper, more personal. You both talked about the failed relationships and the dates you went on, what your likes and dislikes were, turn ons and turn offs, what you both found weird or normal, or even your favorite type of animal. Everything either of you said did nothing more than to help the person you were sitting across fall more deeply in love with you.

Nanami admired every single aspect of you. He adored how wide your smile would get just from his jokes and stories alone, how beautiful your hands were, which were littered with rings, as they smoothed down your dress, he admired how clean and beautiful you looked, no matter how much you covered your face with your hands, he found you beautiful. No matter how much you nervously hugged your body, he found you even more beautiful. You were simply too beautiful for him to handle.

And ever since that night, dinners turned into breakfast, and breakfasts turned into brunches, and brunchs turned into amusement parks, and amusement parks turned into sleep overs, and sleep overs turned into moving in.

"Nanami," you sighed as he pulled you softly onto his lap, legs spreading as he held your hips tightly. "You know I couldn't do that to you, my apartment is fine!"

He looked up at you, eyes soft as a knowingly smile danced on his face. He's asked you quite a few times to just move in with him, you've always been hesitant to the idea, not sure if that's what your ready for. You've never moved in with a boyfriend, let alone someone like Nanami.

"I know baby, but it would be so beneficial for us both. I mean, we can carpool to work since you took that internship at my job, we don't have to worry about meeting up when we are always together, I mean, hell, you wouldn't have to worry about rent." He softly said, as you continued to have your worries.

His house was so empty without you there all the time. I mean, he barely has anything in that mansion, and whenever you come over, you always shiver from how cold it was, except when you get to snuggle under the warm pink blankets you brought to his house to give it a little color instead of the plain white, black, and gray color scheme.

"Yeah, but that's a big step. I mean I have a lot of stuff and 2 pets!" You looked into his eyes as you emphasized your point.

"I love Milo and Princess." He simply said.

"I have a lot of clothes" He smirked as I said that as if that was a laughable point.

"I have a few walk in closets"

"I mean, God knows if my landlord will let me move out, I don't really know the terms and conditions of my lease."

"we'll figure it out." His voice never wavered nor changed in tone as he softly reassured you.

You didn't have any other points than that, I mean, what if it doesn't... You know..

"Wait, but what if-"

"Y/n please, I'm not trying to pressure you, but I think you moving in would be for the best. It gets so lonely when I don't have you next to me every waking moment. I need you here with me, I need you to help fill this empty house with things you love, we love." Nanami chuckled thinking about how the house would be a completely new home with your charm added to it. It would have a warmer and homier feel to it.

His hands began to softly rub up your sides and to your back. His would softly glide over your skin, making you melt into his touch. You nodded and relaxed as his words of how much he wanted, no needed you here made you feel. You did want to live with him. You wanted to wake up and breathe his fresh smell, listen to his deep soothing voice hum any song, and feel him everywhere you go.

You wanted to say 'Yes nanami! I will move in with you!' but an underlying feeling of doubt still clouded your mind. You had to say something.

"Nanami, I want to live with you, I really do! But.." his hands stopped moving, and slowly settled back onto my hips.

"But? Is something wrong?" His face now wasn't as soft and playful, now more tense and worried.

"No, but.." I sighed, trying to look away from him. He softly grabbed my chin with his hand making me face him again, eyes staring up directly into yours.

"Tell me, I promise you, no problem can't be fixed."

"I'm sorry, I really didn't want to think this way, but.. What if we, you know, break up? I mean I can't afford to move out, and my family lives far and that would really su-"

"y/n." He stopped me before my head started spiraling. He knew how you thought. He knew how much you overthink simple things, and don't always see things positively.

He took a deep breath, unsure as to why you were thinking you both might separate.. were you..

Unhappy?

"Please tell me you aren't unhappy in our relationship." Nanami's eyes left your as he was now just searching your face for a confirmation.

"no! No of course not, I'm very happy, why would you think that?" Now it was your turn to grab his chin and make him face you.

"well, I mean, you're having doubts about us taking our relationship to the next level, and your scaring me with the thought you don't see us ending up in a happy successful relationship." His voice was so raw, so clear, he was genuinely nervous about how you truly felt.

You felt extremely terrible for even thinking so negatively. You knew your boyfriend hated when you thought negatively, always taking those thoughts as something you're actually feeling. And in this case, he was assuming you weren't happy in your relationship.

Nanami's eyebrows were extremely furrowed as he tried to process and read your facial expressions again for now, a sign of any lies in what you said.

Your face softened as you placed both of your hands on the sides of his face. Your thumbs came to his brows as you softly stroked them to help them go back to his they were as you spoke to him.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I promise I didn't mean to insinuate that. It's just, I've never moved in with a boyfriend of mine, and I usually like to prepare for the worst." Your voice was quiet as you felt his eyebrows' tension slowly release and his arms wrapped around your waist tightly. Nanami laid his cheek on your chest, and let out a huge breath in relief.

"Just.." nanami chuckled. "Just let me know what you decide on. I'm not going anywhere, so take as much time as you need." You smiled, and stroked his hair. You just hummed in response, and you both continued to peacefully dwell in each other's arms.

#nanami kento #kento nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami x you #nanami smut #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #jjk kento #kento smut #jjk

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russellsppttemplates · 2 months

Text

Part-time driver, part-time nurse (Charles Leclerc)

Charles spends his off season nursing you back to health

Note: english is not my first language. This is the opportunity to showcase all of my Grey's Anatomy knowledge 😅 jokes aside, this really is knowledge that I have from medical shows and a little research, so the accuracy might not be on point! It was inspired by this blurb!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: reader has a surgery (cholecystectomy), hospitals, medications, mild mention of sex

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"It's really painful, Charles", you groaned, finding a position in bed where you'd be a little bit more comfortable. You had a good pain tolerance and hated hospitals, so when he heard you say those words, he knew well enough that your pain had to be through the roof.

"Let's put this on and then we go to the hospital, okay amour?", he suggested soflty, prepared to gently force you in case you resisted. This was not an okay situation and even though you didn't like the setting, they would be the ones able to help you

"I need your help", you admitted, allowing Charles to lift your torso and dress you with one of his zip up hoodies, "Good, that's good, amour", he cooed, supporting your body on his as you walked out of the flat and into the garage.

"Am I hurting you?", he asked as he lowered your body into the passenger seat, "no, it comes and goes in waves, but it's still at the same place, right here", you winced as you showed him, pointing to your upper abdomen and then your back.

Charles drove to the hospital, his hand holding yours so you could squeeze anytime you needed, "you can park there already, I can walk to the door", you mumbled, "are you sure?", he checked, "yes, handsome", you smiled faintly.

The hospital wasn't too busy since visiting hours had ended a while ago, so Charles parked fairly close to the door, "up, gently, good", he helped you out and locked the car, looking at your face when he heard you laugh.

"We were so busy that I didn't even notice I have my slippers on still", you showed him the fluffy beige footwear, "I think it's trendy, you are going to set a new fashion", he said as you walked to the door of the emergency room.

After being escorted to a bed, a doctor came up to meet you, "Hi, I'm Dr. Richard and I'll be your doctor this evening", he said, greeting you and Charles, "Ms. Y/L/N, it says here you have pain in your abdomen", he stated as waited for your clarification.

"Yes, especially around here", you pointed to the upper right section, "at first it was just here, but then it spread to my back. I wouldn't have come in if it wasn't really impossible to go about my day with it", you sighed as the doctor typed away on his tablet.

"I'm going to do an ultrasound on you", he said as he pulled the kart with the machine closer to the bed, the nurse adjusting the drip he put in your arm with pain medication, "you seem to have cholecystitis, which is when your gallbladder is very inflamed and it causes pain. This ultrasound should let us know quickly if this is the case", he said as you lifted your top, wincing at the cold gel as the doctor moved the wand around.

"See this right here?", Dr. Richard pointed to the screen, "it's your gallbladder, and it is definitely inflamed. The course of treatment is surgically removing it", he explained, grabbing a towell to clean off the excess product from your skin.

"Surgery?", Charles questioned, worry sketched in his eyes, "yes, we do it laparascopically, just a few small incisions on your abdomen. It's very simple, you'll be able to go home tomorrow afternoon if we do the surgery in the morning", he said

"Okay, then. Sounds good", you spoke, "anything to take this pain away", you said, holding Charles' hand in your own.

"This is Dr. Pavard, she's one of my surgical interns", he said as a young woman approached your bed, greeting you, "she'll be the one to take you up to your room, she'll take some samples to make sure everything else is good for surgery and we'll do it tomorrow morning", he smiled, excusing himself as he was being paged to another case.

"Can I go with her?", Charles wondered, as the intern looked a little uneasy on her answer, "I'll have to talk to my superiors about it, but you can go up to the room until I figure it out. How does that sound?", she stated and you both nodded, your boyfriend grabbing your bag and walking behind her as she wheeled you along the corridor into the elevator, not missing the double checks some patients and hospital staff gave him.

After drawing the samples she needed, the intern left you and Charles in the room, "how are you feeling, amour?", he asked, holding your hand between his and kissing your fingertips, "I'm fine, the pain meds are working wonders", you sighed, "not my plans for the next few days to have surgery, but it's for the best", you reasoned.

"Do you think they'll let me stay with you?", Charles wondered, "I'm not sure, Charles. They have very strict rules. Joris said one of his cousins couldn't have anyone with her when she was admitted", you shrugged, "it would be nice having you here, but let's not get our hopes up", you attempted.

After telling you all your labs checked out and you'd be having surgery in the morning, Dr. Richard excused himself and spoke to the nurses outside of the room, "I'm going to the bathroom, and I don't need help", you looked at your boyfriend who looked like a puppy you had kicked out in the street.

When you came out, Charles was closing the door behind him, a smile on his lips as he looked at you, "where did you go? I didn't even take that long in there", you quirked an eyebrow at him, "Oh, they told you you have to leave?".

"I spoke to Dr. Richard", he said with a smirk on his lips, "I'm staying!".

"Charles!", you sterned, "you know you shouldn't pull the card at these things!", you reasoned despite feeling a little bit more at ease that you'd have him with you the whole time.

"I didn't pull any card or any strings!", Charles defended himself, "I went up to him and asked if there was a chance, because I'd be here first thing in the morning anyway, and he said he had already asked one of the nurses to get me a pillow and a blanket for that sofa, that apparently turns into a bed if I want it to", he shrugged his shoulders, "I wasn't going to say no".

Despite shaking your head at him, you were grateful that he also wanted to stay with you, "sometimes I forget that I'm dating the principality's pride child", you teased him, making room for him in your bed so he could envelop you in your arms, "thank you, though", you kissed his jaw.

"They also assured me that everyone that saw us wouldn't mention this to anyone, so you're safe", he mumbled, kissing your forehead, "now rest, amour, you'll need it before your surgery".

Early in the morning, the surgical team came to the room to take you, not before Charles kissed your lips, "I love you so much, Charles, I'll see you in a bit", you smiled, nodding to the interns who would be wheeling you to the operating room.

About halfway through the procedure, one of the interns came into the room to assure Charles everything was going as it was supposed to, "thank you for letting me know", he said, watching him leave before his phone rang, Pierre's contact name showing on the screen.

"Hey, man! How are you? Me and Francisca are in Monaco for a few days, do you and Y/N want to plan something?", the French man asked over the phone.

"Hey! Y/N's is actually having surgery right now - her gallbladder was giving her trouble so they're taking it out", Charles explained, "we should be going home this afternoon, hopefully, so if you guys don't mind hanging out at our place, it's fine".

"Oh, I hope everything goes well", Pierre said, saying something to who Charles assumed was his girlfriend, "let us know how it goes and we'll go from there, okay? We don't want to bother you even more".

After wishing everything would go well and requesting that Charles let's him know when you were awake, Pierre ended the call and your boyfriend took the opportunity to update your families.

"She's out of the operating room and she's starting to wake up, they will bring her up soon", one of the nurses smiled as Charles nodded, taking a sip from his coffee as he waited for you.

When they wheeled you back into the room, your eyes looked tired but you smiled when you saw him, "everything went as planned, there were no complications, so it should be a smooth recovery. They'll bring your breakfast in a bit and if you can tolerate that and walk just fine, we'll be able to discharge you when your labs come back good!", your surgeon said before excusing himself.

"Hey, bébé", he smiled, kissing your forehead, "how are you feeling?", he asked.

"I'm good, loopy from the meds, but I'm also quite hungry", you giggled, "I'm sorry I caused you to worry", you began.

"It's part of it", he shrugged his shoulders, kissing your hands, "all that matters is that it went well and you're feeling good. My mother says she dropped by our flat and arranged the place a little bit - it wasn't too messy, don't worry - and she also left a pasta bake; your parents are very happy and relieved it went well. Pierre and Kika are in town as well and I told them that if you weren't too tired, they could spend tomorrow with us, but only of you feel up to it!", he was quick to mention.

"That sounds nice!", you nodded, "I haven't seen them in a while", you recalled.

After eating breakfast and walking along the corridor a few times during the day, the doctors discharged you, prescribing the medications you would need and listing the signs you should look out for.

"Here, amour, careful", Charles said as he helped you up the small step to get into your flat, guiding you to the living room where the sofa was packed with blankets and pillows, "Careful, you don't want to hurt your tummy", he ushered as you sat down, kissing the top of your head.

"Charles, love, the incisions are very small, I have to be careful, yes, but if they said that I could come home, it's because I can move still", you giggled, appreciating his attention even though he was being a little over the top, not letting you get up to grab snacks from the kitchen.

"I have grapes for you", he smiled, coming back with a plate for you, "they're full of the good things you have to eat, so your body heals nicely and you feel better", he said, sitting next to you carefully as you took some to eat.

Later, when you wanted to get up, his hand carefully stopped you, "my love, I need to pee, and I'm not even going to let you think of a way to help. I'm just going to the bathroom and I'll be right back", you added.

"I carry you to the bathroom sometimes after we have sex and you can't do it on your own, I can do it now!", he suggested, almost getting up when you threateningly pointed your finger at him, "I'll be quick, Charles!", you smiled.

When you opened the door to get out, Charles was there, "did you wait outside for me?", you quirked your eyebrow, "I did! I didn't want something to happen to you!", he reasoned, "now you have to drink some water to make sure everything is functioning well, and your meds, too!".

Shaking your head at his worry and dedication, you couldn't help but smile, "I love you, Charles, and as much as I'm a little annoyed at the fact that you're my shadow, I must admit I love having you here with me everyday", you smiled, kissing his cheek and then his lips, "I love you, amour, I just want you to be well".

When the next morning came around, Charles guided you to the living room again, making breakfast for you as you sent a few work e-mails explaining what was happening and why you had to take a few days off when a text from Francisca popped up in your phone, saying they were at the door.

Texting her the code to enter the building, you got up to open the door, figuring you would take the same amount of time until they knocked.

"Hi! Quick, quick, quick, before Charles sees I'm up from the sofa", you ushered them to the living room right as Charles was coming out of the kitchen with your breakfast.

"I saw you, Y/N", he sterned as he shook his head, "you cannot stay still, can you, woman?", he teased, setting the tray on the coffee table and chasing you as you hid beside Pierre, "we've been friends for nearly as long a time as I've been Charles' friend, Gasly, don't gang up on me now!", you attempted as Charles picked you up gently, "hey!".

"You had surgery, Y/N", Pierre began, "if he didn't do it, I would do it myself", he snickered as you showed him the middle finger.

"How are you feeling, though?", Francisca asked once you were all sat on the big sofa, "comparing to the pain I had, I'm great, I swear I never felt pain like it", you answered, taking a sip from your tea and cutting the toast Charles made for you.

"You have a full on breakfast here", Pierre pointed out, "of course we have! Y/N needs to replenish and eat so she can heal", Charles stated.

"Anyone who hears him thinks I've had a whole things done to me and what I had it's pretty common", you giggled, "still, I don't mind the attention", you said as you kissed his cheek while Pierre pretend to barf on the side of your sofa.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

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millerscoffee · 9 months

Note

reader lives in jackson and is friends with tommy, so she sees joel relatively frequently, and they just DONT get along. the reader is young and she’s got a sharp tongue and cheek that irritates the shit out of joel, who shoots back just as much condescending insults. they literally can’t be in a room without getting into it. however, the reader does it for his attention (she’s got daddy issues), and joel doesn’t catch onto this until she’s knocking on his door at midnight because she can’t sleep and she needs him and she doesn’t know how to admit it. he pulls her in the house and absolute filth ensues. he makes her blow him and then they fuck. joel is smug and condescending the whole time, and reader just becomes a ragdoll. Size kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, creampie/breeding, the works PLEASE

you got it, anon! ✨ this was requested on @atticrissfinch's page too, go check it out! i love how the same request can elicit two different stories. i did my best not to read it before i finished this (it was as difficult as it sounds cos HOO BOI 😅🥵♡)

only daddy that'll walk the line

6.2k | joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: big mean dom!joel™️ lmao, alcoholism (reader's dad, but also drunk!joel for a second - **this is not in the smutty scenes**), parental abuse (verbal, it is brief), smut, age difference (joel is 56, reader is 18-early 20s - your choice), size kink, dirty talk (joel's a talker more than his usual grunty self), name calling (bitch, brat, slut, etc.), light praise kink & like- two pet names, ✨ degrading language and acts ✨, edging, choking/gagging, hair pulling, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, spitting kink!!!, spanking, oral (m receiving), no prepping the reader, brat tamer!joel, bratty reader, if i missed anything lmk

summary: based in jackson, you have the unfortunate predicament of being friends with tommy miller and hating his brother, joel – and you have no problem in letting either of them know that! until one night you are brought to joel's doorstep.

A/N: this is my first request! thank you! huzzah!! hopefully it's to your liking, nonnie. he's big mean dom!joel™️ but with a conscience yknow?? enjoy ♡ i did proofread this, but i wrote it over the course of a couple weeks. i did my best! lol

"Dude, what's his fucking problem!?" You roll into the dining hall in a huff. Shuffling to your seat for dinner, you slam your tray down and Maria gives you a combined look of worry and irritation at peace being compromised.

"Who, honey?" Tommy asks, handing you a glass of water with an entertained grin because he's positive he knows just who you're talking about.

He'd seen the two of you go at each other's throats earlier in the day when you were trying to get by him on your way out the door. His back was to you, and he all but ignored your request to get out of the way. Causing you to shove past him, which ensued an argument between the two of you. Which led you to both of you gunning each other with your words until you both left in a bad mood.

Joel had his back to you, his frame fully in the doorway as he spoke with a woman in town. It started off slow: a few clearings of your throat, a slight nudge of his back. No avail.

"Excuse me," you shouted, pushing at him again before he finally turned around quickly with his jaw ticked.

"Do you have any manners, Christ." He said dry and muttered under his breath, but the lady made room for you and you nodded politely in her direction.

"Maybe if you weren't so fucking old, you could've heard me!"

"And watch your fuckin' mouth."

Joel turned his back to you, not giving you a moment to retort. Conversation over.

"This fucker," when you look up, you see Joel coming towards the table. The sight of him gives you a set of shivers you can't explain. Not complete disgust, but certainly not excitement.

"You really oughta keep better company," Joel tells his brother, sitting down beside him, he frames his entire body towards Tommy so he's sitting in a way to make you feel ignored.

"I'm right here, you know." Your head is moving so you're in the line of his vision.

"Don't remind me. Listen, this is a family dinner. Go find your own."

A slap in the face would've hurt less. Before Tommy or Maria had the chance to come to your defences – both of their mouths open ready to take up for you – you stood up, shoving your tray over to Joel. So loud, other people turn their gaze to the four of you.

"Fuckin– eat up, then."

As you storm off to your house, you hear Tommy scold his older brother but you don't look back.

---

The next morning, your father wakes you up to the sound of his own yelling for you to come downstairs. You'd been helping out Maria and Tommy to get your own place, or at least a shared one with people your age and to hear your dad's voice; whiskey-soaked and cruel, makes your stomach churn.

After slipping on your clothes for the day, you make it to the kitchen where he's sitting at the table and reeking from alcohol even from where you're standing.

"Didn't you hear me call you?" His words were slurred and angry.

"Yes, I'm sorry." It's such a difference from how you talk to other people, talk to Joel, for example. Maybe because he's the last person you spoke to, but he's the first one who pops into your head during this interaction. You sound meek, scared to say something wrong. A stark difference from how you speak to Joel – abandoning all worries of punishment. Almost like you wanted that from him.

"Fuckinbetterbe – hiccup – breakfast. Now." Your dad all but snaps his fingers and rage creeps up the back of your throat, biting your tongue so hard you break the surface layer. A slight streak of blood coats your mouth, but you do as you're told.

This morning is kinder than others. Your dad did not say thank you for the pancakes, you didn't get hit or debased too much. You consider it a win. Once you leave your house as soon as you can, Joel's chest hits your face as soon as you turn the corner. The milliseconds seem long when you're met with the warmth and solidity of his chest, the scent of cedar and... whiskey? It seemed too early, even for him, to be drinking and you shake off the unreasonable rationale that he should be treated differently than your father for the same behaviour.

You ignore the similarities of him and your father all together, actually.

"Watch where you're goin'," Joel's brows are knit together, which is normal for him, but you've never been this close to see his lips from this angle above you. You almost say something out of the ordinary for the two of you, but you reel it in quickly.

"You're one to fuckin' talk. Morning coffee smells a lot like alcohol. Maybe I should tell Tommy about your habits."

"Does it ever hurt your head bein' a bitch all the time?"

"Not as bad as that hangover will be around noon. Move."

You push past the large build in front of you with a clenched jaw, unable to be around him a second longer. "Fuck you, Joel," you mutter for good measure on your way to Tommy and Maria's.

They'd given you safety on days when it seemed scarce, and showing up felt appropriate. You were a little closer with Tommy than Maria. He was able to listen to you without being too judgy, and you needed that. The lack of safety piece was a lot like how your day started off. You walk around to the back where Tommy's working on a new hobby and you sit in front of him, letting out a big sigh.

"Y'daddy givin' you trouble again?"

Typically when Tommy asks about your father he says it like this, but today it catches you off guard. Confusion twists your mind, but you nod distractedly. "Yea, he was drunk this morning. Your brother, too."

You slide that one in fast.

Tommy fists through his hair, letting out a heavy exhale. "Shit. We both got trouble this mornin', I guess."

"Seems like it."

You're unusually quiet, looking at the ground more than anything. It bugs you that Joel and your father have a similar quality to them. That they both are up reaching for the bottle, but for Joel it's not a common occurrence and that makes you worried – an emotion you don't have for him that often, if you're being honest. You don't think about his experiences that often. But this is the first time, really, you've even seen Joel drunk like that. You remember Tommy mentioning that he'd given up the stuff since Sarah's passing when everyone was around a fire one night sharing stories.

As if the dots connect in real time, you look over to Tommy who looks worried sick.

"He'll figure it out," you reassure, chewing the inside of your cheek before heading out. You call behind you, "I'll be around."

You've never really been good at the whole 'being there for someone' thing.

Later on, you find yourself in the mess hall again for the night's dinner and you catch Maria, Tommy, Joel, and Ellie all together and it feels weird to sit with them. They're all laughing, Joel looks sobered up. And it seems that Tommy didn't bring up the conversation the two of you shared. They look like a happy family and twists a knot in your throat and the proverbial knife at your side.

"Can I please spend the night at Tommy and Maria's? Please?" Ellie is looking over at Joel with the sweetest expression, you snicker to yourself at how menacing she actually was. It seemed to do the trick, though. Joel's eyes flicker over to you, and it feels like you're being caught for something. The look is inculpatory without you doing anything. As if to say you are witnessing something too personal, a side of him not meant for you. "Yeah, sure," his response to Ellie sounds distant.

This gives you no choice but to walk up to the scene, to sit down beside Maria. She gives you a welcoming grin and makes space for you. "What'd I miss?" You look over to Ellie who's excited to see you, but Joel? Not so much. His eyebrows narrow down his face, suddenly more quiet than usual, even for him. You set your sights back on Ellie who's telling you all of the cool things she's gonna do at her Uncle Tommy's and you flash a smile that lets her know you're listening. Or at least trying. It's hard when Joel isn't even initiating the usual conflict with each other. More arguing than speaking. And the fact it wasn't happening was off.

"That sounds like a blast...," you trail off, your chin in your hands.

"If you're not gonna listen to her, don't ask her questions." Joel barks, eyes now solemnly black in your direction. It makes you scared and delighted at once. Like he was back to normal. Your normal.

"I was listening to her?" You retort, and everyone's quiet now. Awkwardness filling the air as the two of you battle it out. "Maybe if you weren't so drunk all the time you'd know the differen–" "Hey, now." Tommy chimes in, giving you a stern look of disapproval and you feel bad. Reflective. Joel wasn't drunk all the time, and you knew exactly why he was this morning.

You exhale, "I'm sorry," you nod in the direction of everyone but Joel and stand up from your seat, "enjoy your family time."

On your way back to your house, you catch a glimpse of a group of people your age. People you'd grown up with, but they didn't acknowledge you and it digs the wound closer in. You truly felt alone. Like nothing fit, and maybe you didn't belong in Jackson but it wasn't like there were many choices to go to.

---

More times than not you sneak into your room. Not because you are past a type of curfew, you were an adult. It was more, you didn't want your dad to know you were around. Your door was locked when you climbed in through the window.

You got comfortable, spilling out of your clothes for the day and into your pajamas. Cotton shorts and a loose tee. Your breasts perky and nipples taut from the worn fabric. A lot of the day was spent dealing with heavy subjects that you just wanted to let your mind escape.

Staring at the ceiling in your bed, your eyes become blurry in need of sleep. Needing release. Anything.

Your mind wanders to why Joel was so quiet with you when you sat down. It wasn't like that was the first time the two of you had a shouting match in front of everyone, but this felt different. You deduce it to Joel having an off day and let your mind wander somewhere else.

Or, at least you try.

Because when your hands explore your body under the blankets, Joel comes back to life in your thoughts. You come back to the warmth of his chest when you ran into him this morning, the grunt that left him from impact. What that would sound like against your ear. Before you know it, you're shifting your thighs together, spreading the mess of your cunt. A craving ignites your bloodstream.

It's slick between your legs when you sit up, and you're full of determination unbeknownst of where it's coming from. The act itself is a little heady, but you have nothing to lose so why not?

Slipping on a pair of shoes and a jacket that covers your clothes, you turn your back to the window and scurry down until you're able to jump off onto the grass. One step close to where you want to be.

Joel's house is across the street which makes it easy to get to, but aggravating when you want a sense of peace. He's always around, shooting you a menacing stare when you're not down each other's throats but there's an ache you can't deny. A compulsion.

You knock on his door twice before he swings it open almost like he saw you approach, but he doesn't tug you inside like you thought he was. Doesn't make you get on your knees or fulfill any fantasy of being used. Of... making him proud.

"What?" His question is dry and a part of you is crushed. He isn't taking advantage of the way your legs look in your shorts right away.

"You're not the only one who had a bad fucking day," you start, but he doesn't give you a moment to push through the door because before you know it you're being pulled inside. The sound of a slamming door somewhere behind you. You're forced to look at him with his paw wrapped around your jaw, thumb tilting your chin up effortlessly. It locks you in place.

"You came here. Why? Y'want me to fuck your bad day away?"

You gape is panicked, eyes wide now in this compromising position. You can't think, you can't nod or say words. You just stare.

"She's real fuckin' quiet now," Joel shoves you against the closed door, not letting an inch of space be wasted and he takes your wrist with his free hand, palming you over his hardening cock in his jeans. "How about now. You payin' close attention?"

You whimper, nodding softly as your fingers massage and rub, tug at anything you can through the fabric.

"Did I tell you y'could do that?" His words make you pause, shivering at how truly empty your mind is in the moment. Even in your inexperience you don't know you've ever felt so instantly timid. Joel makes you fold at the first hint of misbehaviour. You can't think of a thing to say. Halfway don't know why you're here in the first place, and he's got you so wet from this it almost hurts. Stickiness coats your thighs as you squeeze your legs together and you're sure it will be obvious even through your cotton shorts.

You shake your head, and he's sick of you not speaking to him. Squeezes your face tighter, "Use your fucking words."

"No... no you didn't," you manage and you've never heard yourself sound so pathetic.

"I didn't, that's right. You answer to me." The snapping sound of his words causes your eyes to roll in annoyance. He doesn't own you, he never fucking could. The action makes his jaw tighten, his hand from your jaw in a grip that didn't hurt now is wrapped around your throat and although it's not tight, it certainly isn't loose. "What the fuck was that?"

You're back to being silent, unable to do anything but take.

"Not asking again."

"I rolled my ey–"

"You rolled your eyes. Roll your fuckin' eyes at me again, little girl. You'll regret it."

A cool threat, you think. Meaningless, even. What possible reproach would he have anyway?

It's then you take in the house. You'd been here once before to stay with Ellie. It's dark, a single lamp upstairs. All of this is background noise to the drone of your need prickling your youthful skin. It's apparent, your age difference, when you're this close. His rough fingers, wrinkles catching the moonlight peeking in through the windows.

"I–I'm sorry," you've been saying that a lot lately.

"Don't apologise to me. Don't say sorry when I know you're not." His thumb moves from your chin to your lips, thumbing over just how pliable and soft they are and it sends your nerves to the surface. Prying your lips apart, he presses inside and you willingly wrap your lips around it to lap the pad of his digit. "Look at that sweet thing," he says, more at you than to you, and your neck flushes being this willing to suck for him, "so easy for me to use. I put my thumb to y'er lips and you just took it right in, didn't ya?" The taste of his skin robs you of any other sense, his tone making you all but fold.

"Show me what this mouth is good for, 'cuz it sure ain't good at a sincere apology."

Before you know it, you're on your knees. Joel is kind enough that he ushers you down onto the hardwood floor and you can't believe you're face to face with his crotch in front of his door, no less.

"You couldn't wait to take me to your bedroom?"

Joel doesn't reply straight away. Instead you hear the clanking of metal, a zipper coming undone, and the slap of his cock hitting his abdomen on the way out of his pants. You take mental note that he hasn't been asleep by his attire, but it's all for nothing when your eyes make out the shapes in the dim light. You choke when you see just how big he is.

He tuts, leaning his head condescendingly as he takes a chunk of your hair in his palm to tilt your chin up to greet his cock. "Aw, you think you're goin' t'my room?" The words make you feel naïve, the one or two times you've done something like this didn't have nearly as much... compromise. And you certainly didn't hook up with someone twice your age. You don't have time to be self-conscious because the head of him, the leaky head of him, is tapping against your lips and your eyes roll back as you open your mouth for him. After jumping slightly in surprise, of course.

He sighs in relief with a deigned smile, pushing his hips further. "Fuck. You hear that? Nothing! Sounds so fuckin' good, shuttin' you up."

But it's not entirely nothing, is it? Not with your gagging, slurping up what you can but you don't know what you're doing all the way and fumbling through half of it. Doesn't seem to faze him much.

It's obscene as it feels, him using you like this – and you don't feel an ounce of guilt when it's exactly what you want. The switch flips on why you came to his door in the first place. His big thumb swipes over the corner of your full mouth, "You like that, dontcha, filthy thing?"

And you hated how right he was. You wanted to scream, kick him. Retaliate in a way so you could still be in this submission at the same time.

Your mouth was full by the earthy taste of him, obliterating whatever feelings you had about the day. A bad mood that he had contributions in, but it's melting from the constant thrust of his hips. And he's keeping your head locked in place, hand gripped in the strands so you can feel your spit mingling with the underside of his cock. Honestly, every part of his dick is covered in your spit. It spills down your chin, threatens up your nose when you gag, leaves your eyes to water when you look up at him in a dire need to breathe fully, but he's not done with you.

Not until the loudest, lewdest pop from your mouth you've ever heard does Joel break contact completely. Steps back until you're being observed in a patronising way. Your gone expression. All saliva and tears and his precum smeared over your mouth. You can barely bring yourself to look up, but his demands seem to do the trick.

Snapping his fingers at you to get your attention, you swallow hard. "Nuh uh. You're not gonna get all soft on me, girl. Wake the fuck up."

Which would be simple if he wasn't practically dragging you by your hair, making you crawl on your hands and knees until you're on your feet and you're shoved onto his couch.

All that and you're still dressed.

"Off," he's barking commands like you're a trainable being and if you were in any other state, you may reconsider this whole ordeal, but when he pushed you onto the couch your legs spread just enough for him to see the wetness smearing the cotton at the apex of your thighs and that amuses him. "not good at hidin' how much of a slut y'are."

"You think it's just you that does this to me?" You find your voice again, hoisting yourself up to sit on his couch as his cock – thick and proud – sways against the fabric caught between it. Your tongue presses to your cheek when you make eye contact, "You're kidding yourself."

The venom drips so fluidly from your tongue, Joel doesn't make a sound. Just peels off his clothes until he's standing there naked in his house, giving you living proof that you are kidding yourself.

The silence speaks for itself. He is pure smug under the sight of your drooling gaze.

"It's real cute that you think y'got control over the situation n'all," the weight shifting on this couch from the cushion shaping around his knee. Joel sits down, taking you by the scalp again to cloak you over his lap stomach-first, and you yelp in surprise when he does all of this and tugs your shorts down in one fell swoop.

With your hair in his fist, his other hand ghosts over your ass in effort to make sure you squirm for him before administering a devilishly loud spank to your ass. "But somebody better teach you better manners. Sure as shit itn’t your father."

You crack out a sob at that– from the contact and the truth. You couldn't retort, you were too busy getting slap after slap against your increasingly worn ass to think about anything else. "Lucky I ain't making y'count. You'd have this for eternity now."

Not that it mattered anyway. He's leaving mark after mark of his large handprint across your cheeks, probably ten more if you could even focus on anything else but finding the words to stop him.

"Please– y-you're right," tears stain your face as you bury your face in your arms. Flinching when Joel moves, you expect another searing punishment, but instead he pulls your ass apart and you gasp at the cool air striking your cunt that's hot and wet for him. "Joel!"

“Dirty fuckin’ girl, wet from gettin’ punished. I talked so bad about you, and you liked it? You’re as desperate as I thought. Only good for gettin’ my cock wet.” And it’s like a lever is pulled when your slutty little smile plasters over your face with him out of view. Not that you had much time to gloat, or to experience the pleasure of living in your own fantasy because Joel’s got you pulled again. His thick thighs spread apart when he maneuvers you so willingly to sit between his legs. Right where he wants you. Right where you can feel the throbbing pulse at your folds. He tells you to take off the rest of your clothes and you would be a fool to do otherwise.

“Bad girls don’t get the luxury of bein’ opened,” that Texan drawl slips over your ear when he holds the base of his cock, slicking himself through your folds, you gasp and wriggle against him – his grip tightening harder. Silently warning you if you make another move it’s over, you’re done. It’s over. All the while the searing stretch of him causes your cunt to flutter and clench around him. It’s too much, too overwhelming, and he won’t let you adjust long enough. “You’ll get over it,” but it’s not reassuring. He still sounds in control despite his laboured breathing and when he can, he moves his hands to grip your hips and guide you down on him. You scream, a knee jerk response wriggle away from him, but this position doesn’t quite allow for that.

“Be a good girl.”

That folds you, quite literally, as he moves his hips down to pound up into yours, using you like his own toy to get himself off with. And it’s just the incredible sounds of your squelching cunt and his balls tapping against your folds. The fucking isn’t frantic, but it certainly isn’t soft. He’s rough with you, a hand traveling up your back to grip your hair so your neck is back in place and he lifts you upright so your back is curved, neck craned so if you tried, you could make him out – upside down. “Poor thing couldn’t help it, had to get a daddy to take care of her. You want that, kitten? Wanna be used and as daddy’s little fucktoy – only good for makin’ me cum?” his hand sneaks around to the front of you with his free hand, he presses and digs into your pubic bone to make you feel exactly where he is. “Put a baby right here. Make everyone know what you fuckin’ did.”

You whine, eyes rolling back at the thought. It was so obscene, nothing like you’d ever even heard of before. Where did he fucking learn how to talk like this? Your brain is swimming while your sticky sweetness coats his lap, clawing at his thighs for any sort of stability, but it was dizzying how he had you. How his grunts filled the air in between slaps like he had your hips placed at the perfect angle for him to work you.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” His gritting teeth by the shell of your ear, he keeps you secure within your hair to snake his arm around the front of you tugging and rolling at the sensitive nubs of your nipples. When he feels you appear to drift off, those rough hands supply another smack, but to your tits this time, your fingernails clawing into his thighs involuntarily as you squeal in surprise. You tighten at that, fluttering around his cock and you feel it at the edge. So close you can almost taste it.

But he knows you’re close, too, and there’s no way in hell he’s giving that to you. Not when you’ve barged into his house like this, not when you’ve done nothing but be an insufferable brat to him since the moment he came to Jackson.

Joel hovers you over his lap, and your heels dig into the floorboard. His hips still, keeping the very tip of his cock inside of you – you feel panic flash over your body. “No,” it’s the first word you’ve uttered in god knows how long and it sounds desperate. Any hope of getting an orgasm swirls down the drain, and it’s set in stone when he pushes you on your back – the lumpy couch digging into your skin. “No, no, please. Why!”

His eyes could burn a hole through you. Like a hungry dog, his body hovers – shoulders stooped, head down when he pours his gaze into you. And he likes what he sees. Legs open and begging, willing to do anything to get him back into you. Your cunt glistening, even in the dull light and he can tell it’s pulsing. “Poor thing’s clampin’ around nothin’,” he teases, grunting when his knees meet the couch cushions – another tell of his age. But you, you’re too preoccupied in taming the ache between your legs to comment. It burns, coming back to a fixed state you realise how stretched out you were and it’s more than overwhelming. To know you haven’t been used to completion, all hope draining from your face.

“Joel,” your breath is shaky underneath him, pupils blown and wet when you make out his features, “Joel, please. Please, I want this.”

“Darlin’, I know you want it. Everybody in town knows you want it,” his words make you sob a whine as they approach closer to your neck, the delicate graze of his beard dances at your pulsepoint and you shudder. Hips raise and he’s quick to slam them back down into place. “If you want me, ‘Joel’ ain’t whatchu say to get me.”

And if you felt hopeless before, you really do now. Unable to do anything but debase yourself for your own pleasure. You’d heard it earlier, the way he referred to himself with a name that brought up mixed feelings at Tommy’s. You swallow down embarrassment, looking him in the eyes – which were faded obsidian, your fingernails dig into your own thighs as if to brace for what’s tempting to slip out of your throat.

You hated that he made you nervous.

And you hated the hold he had over you.

But he had it, there was no doubt about it. He had it. He had you.

Your jaw ticks forward, fully aware of your clit screaming for attention and exhale shakily. “Please, daddy. Please, I want this.”

“Eh,” Joel muses, shaking his head, “I don’t believe ya. Really gotta hear the desperation in your voice. Maybe if I,” his hand reaches for his cock, slapping the sloppy head of it against your folds and that– that sends you. Takes you to a different destination entirely because for the first time all night there’s attention to that bundle of nerves, and he knows it. He knows you need this in order to give everything over to him in full. “Daddy!” you screech, pelvis jutting up in full inclination and without a single word, Joel’s cock spears into you all the way to the hilt. All the way to your cervix.

His hands, emitting heat and wrapped largely around your hips, locks you where he wants you like some animal in heat. It forces you to bring your legs up into a position you aren’t sure you’ve ever been in – thighs against your stomach, by your sides. It’s so, “deep,” you whimper, head rocking as your mouth flies open and he’s delivering you thrust after thrust of pleasure so wrecking no noise comes from you.

“Is that what you needed? Fuckin' brat,” Joel is still able to tease, but even he isn’t immune to how tight you are around him. Your fluttering core begging for release as it moves in and out around him – as if it’s doing its own begging. “You wanna be filled up to the brim with my cum, babygirl? Needy fucking cunt like you only good for matin’ like this.” Your skin burns at his words, your body convulsing as you do your best to keep it together.

That’s when Joel’s hand wraps around your throat, a line of spit falling into your mouth and you willingly drink from him. “You hold off, you ain’t gettin’ it tonight,” you pout for a moment, not fully understanding what he means by that, but he clarifies when his hips get sharper, more precise. As if his cock is hooked inside of you, not letting a drip of precum spill out of you against your cervix. “Y’ain’t cummin’, but I am.”

His grip around your throat gets harder, and you swear you can see every vein in his face rise to the surface when he uses you. You’re limp, all thoughts washed away – his cock thick and long, you aren’t even sure how he fits it all inside of you but he does. The edge of your stomach bulges as he works you, his neck cranes back to expose his neck and it’s too much to take. For both of you. His hot cum ropes cords inside of you, sticking to your walls. Filling you up is an understatement with how much he has to give you. It’s as if you can discern the moment his seed grazes your cervix in its sticky texture. Your head is swimming at the sound of your animalistic grunts, he looks so… fucking hot like this. His name is replaced with ‘daddy’ more easily than you care to admit. You do try not to chase your orgasm… a part of you does, anyway.

But you’re defiant.

You can take yourself there without him telling you to, and in fact the opportunity to disobey him is just what you need to send yourself creaming all over his cock. You gasp, eyes wide before they roll back and you’re fucking yourself on his spent cock that somehow still has life to it. Even for his age, he can still keep it hard for you after his seed coats your insides. “Daddy, daddy, daddy,” becomes part of your breath, and you’re shocked he doesn’t pull out of you even though his hips are still. You don’t notice it until you come down considering you’re using him. Did he say you could do that? As if you’re woken up by an alarm, you jerk at the sensation of the orgasm you snuck. Without his permission. You look up, and his knuckles are bleached around your hips. He looks so menacing like this, scary. You shake your head, swallowing hard in your attempt to fix things.

But it’s too late for you. You’re a brat at the end of the day, and he has to train you. Make you realise the error of your ways.

His cock is still buried deep when his middle finger plays where the two of you connect. A whine escapes you, shivering now, not quite sure what he’s going to do. He’s lethally quiet, you aren’t sure how to react. He’s contemplating what to do to you, he’s not met someone who’s as menacing as he is. As unwilling to give away freedom. Not since… his nostrils flare as he inhales.

“I told you not to do that,” Joel stating the obvious makes you clear your throat, his cock twitching inside you in the aftershocks sends your teeth to bite down on your lip and you shake your head, “I c- I couldn’t help it!” You lie, and he knows it. Compels him to prod that middle finger just above his cock inside you and the stretch is too much. When you reach out for his forearm, his other hand darkens over your wrist, pinning it back in a way that hurts. You wince in tandem with it and his monstrous hook of the digit inside you. You’re so full, “It’s too-it’s too much!” you tap at anything you can, but he’s not listening.

Instead, the pad of his finger has no problem in touching that spongy bit inside of you – especially since your cunt is stretched from his cock and he can see it. His cum tempts to pool out of you, but he shoves it back in, working his finger inside you repeatedly but he’s just rubbing. He’s just rolling his finger against your g-spot until you feel so overstimulated it brings more pain than pleasure. “Came like you knew what you were doin’,” he finally remarks, thumb rolling over your clit and you can’t take it. “Please, pl– it’s too much! Daddy!” That rhythm is sly, though, in making you come undone. Again and again. As you’re on the peak of what would be an explosive orgasm, Joel pulls out of you entirely. His cock, his finger. His warmth is a distant memory when he stands up, palming over his cock. How did he get hard again?! He would deal with that on his own time.

Your moan is choked out, thighs pressing together for any sort of… something. A release, a grind. You’re left panting and begging, your tits perky and heaving for him.

“What did I say, little girl?” He climbs into his clothes, one button up at a time with his flannel. “You won’t be cumming for a week with that fuckin’ attitude.”

You’re so lost in chasing a feeling, soon to disappear as it could arrive that all you can do is whimper and nod. “I’m so–” his hand grips your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. Spit covers your face, and you hum like a kitten at the feeling of his hot saliva down your cheek, “What did I fucking say about apologisin’ when you’re not sorry?”

You wipe your face, sucking the spit off your thumb with a satisfied smirk. “Fuckin’ loved it, daddy.”

He swallows then, his head shaking in disbelief over how much of a filthy bitch you are. “Yeah, yeah you fuckin’ did. Belong to me now, you understand? Gonna let everybody know what a slut you are for this cock.”

And you would be lying if you didn’t experience a swell of pride in those words. You’d be down each other’s throats again in no time, but the look of ownership that adorns his face over you is too much not to bask in.

“A week?” You study him, eyes wet and round, look up at him and you see his cheek twitch in response.

“Gonna be two if you keep it up.”

You let out a faint sigh, resting your head back on the armrest. “Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he coos, leaning down to press his lips at the shell of your ear. Fingers tucking his cum back in your hole. He relishes in how hot you feel under his fingers.

“Now get the fuck out of my house.”

taglist: @cool-iguana - dm to be added!

#bee's requests #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x afab!reader #tlou smut #joel miller requests #dom!joel #brat tamer!joel #brattamer!joel #bratty reader #bratty f!reader

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larluce · 3 months

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Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PARTE 1 , PARTE 2 , PARTE 3, PARTE 4 , PART5 (you're here) , PARTE 6

In "The Beginning of the End"

Morgana: Merlin! I need your help.

Merlin: (worried) What is it?

Morgana: Just come with me (brings Merlin to her chambers and shows him Mordred behind the screen)

Merlin: (Who's been ignoring Mordred's calls for help in his mind on purpose and still hates him to guts for what he did to Arthur in his timeline, trying to remain compose) That's... That's the druid boy.

Morgana: (Who did hear Mordred calls for help and helped him instead) He's injured. If we don't give him medical attention he'll die.

Merlin: (almost histerical) If Uther finds out you've been hiding the druid boy in your chambers you'll die! We'll all die! What were you thinking?!

Morgana: I couldn't just leave him! He's just a child! He's innocent!

Merlin: To Uther he's guilty.

Morgana: And to you he is? He has done no harm. His only crime is having magic. Do you think he deserves to be executed for that?

Merlin: ... No. Of course not.

Morgana: Then help me. Just tend his wound. Please. (puppy eyes)

Merlin: (Still full of resentment to Arthur's future murderer, but loving Morgana too much to deny her anything. Sighs) Alright.

...

Morgana: Arthur. To what do I owe this pleasure?

Arthur: (enters her chambers) Where is him?

Morgana: Who?

Arthur: I know you're hiding him Morgana.

Morgana: I don't know what you're talking about.

Arthur: Well, I need to search your chambers, kings orders. (starts searching)

Morgana: You will not do such a thing! Stop messing up my things!

Arthur: (opens the screen where Merlin and Mordred are hiding) So this is where you've been lazing around.

Merlin: Sorry 😅

Arthur: (To Morgana) You drag him into this, I can't believe you! Do you know the risk you're putting yourself in?

Morgana: Arthur, please! (putting herself between Arthur and Mordred) Don't turn him in. I beg you, he's just a child.

Arthur: (who resents Mordred, not really because he tried to kill him, that part just hurt him, but because Merlin had to make the deal with the sidhes and was turned into a tree due to what Mordred did in his timeline) I'm sorry I have no choice. I can hide your involvement in this. No harm will come to you or Merlin. Now step aside. (Morgana doesn't move) Morgana.

Morgana: You'll have to go throught me first!

Arthur: I'm trying to protect you.

Morgana: If you hand him over, I'll never forgive you.

Arthur: (Conflicted cause he still have mixed feelings about Mordred but doesn't want Morgana to hate him again. Looks at Merlin for answers, but Merlin's avoiding his eyes at all cost)...

Morgana: We can take him out of Camelot, back to his people. He'll be safe there and Uther will stop searching for him eventually.

Arthur: This is treason. If my father finds out-

Morgana: He won't. Not if you help us. Arthur, please. (puppy eyes)

Arthur: (sighs, giving up) We'll have to be careful. And I'm not doing this again, you hear me?

Morgana: (jumps happily and hugs him) Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're going to be a great king one day. I know it!

Arthur: Yeah, yeah whatever 🙄(but he smiles and hugs back)

Merlin: (touched by the scene and very proud of Arthur despite his feelings towards Mordred) I agree. You'll be the greatest king of all.

Arthur: (separating from Morgana's hug and extending his arms at Merlin to which Merlin just looks at him confused) So?

Merlin: So?

Arthur: Where's my gratitude hug?

Merlin: (shocked)... what? 😳

Morgana: (Who already knows something is going on) Oh, don't be shy (pushes Merlin towards Arthur)

Merlin: (wraps his arms around Arthur hesitantly, but Arthur presses Merlin to him instanly and Merlin melts in the hug)

Morgana: (thinking) Awww. Next time I'll just have Merlin seduce him into doing stuff. It'll work faster.

#merlin bbc #merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #merlin fanfic #merlin and arthur #arthur and merlin #merlin fic #merthur fic #merlin prompt #merthur prompt #Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

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kenslilove · 3 months

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᯽៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ Who’s Little Sister?!

preview. Draken swears he doesn’t only go for little sisters. But when you, Takemichi’s younger sister, walks into his shop….

ft. Ken “Draken” Ryuuguji x fem!reader

wc. 6.5k 🤡😅

W. NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI! bimbo reader, age gap (draken is late 20’s workin at the bike shop, you’re in early 20’s in collage) fem reader, corruption, dubcon (reader is intoxicated when they consent), virgin killer draken, oral (f!receiving), cream pie, a lil after care, praise and lots of it, drakens a scumbag but in a hot way🤪🤤 he comes around though, I promise 🤭

an. Hiiii pookies <33 this is a repost from my old account, but I’m reposting it here because I’m bringing this series back to life. This fic as well as part 2 hold such a special place in my heart, and now that my inspo is back and I’m ready to add to this little story, I hope you guys can join me on the ride hehe <33 I hope you enjoy! I love Kenny 💖 reblogs, comment, and constructive feedback are always welcome 🫶

“Draken, you have a thing for little sisters.”

“I do not.”

The look on everyone’s faces begs to differ.

First, it was Emma, and although the relationship didn’t work out between the two, she was still Mikey’s little sister.

“Can’t believe I ever let you near my sister, sister fucker.” Mikey mumbles into the lip of his beer, making the rest of the boys laugh out loud.

“Wait— who’s sister is he going for now?”

Takemichi’s comment had them all silencing instantly, eyes going to him as if he just asked the stupidest question on earth. Draken tried to use Takemichi’s idiocy to his advantage, waving away the conversation with a hand.

“No one—“

“Yours, obviously Takemichi.” Mitsuya blurted, much to Draken’s distaste, who dropped his forehead against the table with a groan.

“What?!”

Draken believed it wasn’t his fault, truly it couldn’t be. After the fallout with Emma, he swore to himself that the girls he went for would strictly be disconnected from his found family. Things were going well for him, so many beautiful girls passed by his shop, he even went on a date with a handful of them.

But he seemed to forget all of them when you walked into his shop.

There you were, bright-eyed, little miniskirt, lips pulled into the cutest pout he had ever seen. He was taken back when you finally met his gaze, pretty eyes widening a bit as you gasped.

“Ah! Found the right place! You’re Draken-Kun, right?”

The honorific had his heart racing, making him internally swear at himself from getting so excited just from something so simple.

“Uh yeah, that’s me.”

“Nii-chan said he’d be here, was supposed to meet him at ‘Draken-Kun’s shop’ buuuut—“ there was that cute pout again. “I don’t see him!”

He swallowed down a lump that seemed to block all his words. Why was his throat so dry? Why were you blinking up at him so perfectly?

“Uh— yeah, this is my shop but, who’s— who’s your brother?”

“Oh! Michi! Takemichi!” Your smile got even brighter when you said his name. Blinding almost.

Draken really hated the fact that it made his cock twitch.

“Fuck.” He murmured, bringing a hand up to rub the furrow from his brows. You tilted your head in confusion, reaching out and giving one of his biceps a squeeze.

“What was that, Draken-Kun?”

You sounded so concerned, so sorry for someone you didn’t even know. Draken quickly shook you off, before the simple touch of your soft palm made his cock harder than it already was. “No, nothing, it’s nothing. He’s— he’s upstairs.”

“Thank you~!” Sweet as sugar, you basically skipped towards the staircase, a hum in your voice when you called out to Takemichi.

And Draken watched until you disappeared. He watched the sway of your hips, watched your cute little heels clack up the stairs, and he certainly watched the way the swell of your ass became visible when you reached a certain step, along with an outline of lacy panties that were meant to stay hidden.

Fuuuuuuck—

Draken left the boys earlier than usual, hands buried deep in his pockets and a scowl on his face. Takemichi’s angry face was stuck in his head, along with his bitching that only made the boys tease him harder.

“You better not fuck my sister Draken! She’s too sweet for you bro!”

“Whatever—“ Draken mumbled to himself, his breath leaving him in a puff of air due to the cold that surrounded him. He was heading back to his apartment, wanting to slip into bed and hope that the boys would get so hammered tonight they’d forget everything discussed.

When his phone started to buzz he groaned again, ready to tell Mikey no he wasn’t coming back and to fuck off. What he wasn’t expecting to see was your contact name on his screen.

He really should have just let it go to voicemail, in fact, he should delete your number period. But, he picked it up on the very last ring, bringing the phone to his ear with hesitation.

“Hello?”

“D-Draken!!” You were whining— voice a bit slurred and muffled. Was there music in the background? Draken couldn’t really tell. He held his fingers to his other ear in an attempt to hear you better as you started to ramble.

“Can’t— I can’t hear you,” Draken said, trying his best to keep the annoyance from his tone as.. wait, were you crying?

“I-I’m at a stupid party dra! A-and Michi won’t answer his phone b-but I wanna go home! T-There’s this boy here a-and he won’t leave me alone and I-I’m too drunk—“

Draken felt himself tense up at the mention of some boy.

“Slow down…” He sounded calmer now, his apartment coming into view. “Send me your address, I’ll come to get you.”

“P-Please Draken, don’t wanna be here anymore, wanna go.”

It was the way you whined so desperately, so pretty. Draken knew this was bad, knew you didn’t even try to call him first.

But you still called him. Still trusted him enough.

“I’ll get you, sweetheart.” He was swearing at himself for the pet name that left his mouth without permission, but when you made the cutest little hum on the other end of the phone he quickly forgot his worries. “Send me the address right now while you’re on the phone. Do ya know how?”

He was already in the parking garage as your location pinged on his phone. He easily spotted his bike, hopping on as you continued to blubber into the phone.

“C-come now, promise you’ll come now dra—“

“I’m coming, promise. Stay where you are.”

He hung up and sped out of the garage before his right mind could catch up.

The address was some grungy trap house. The smell of cheap liquor and sex seemed to waft from the door as piles of drunk university kids spilled free. He waited until he saw you, finally, heels in hand and bare feet stepping into the damp grass to get to him.

He bit the inside of his cheek. You looked drunk, mascara already ran down your cheeks and little sniffles left you as you approached the bike. He tried to keep his eyes off the low cut of your tank top, but it was hard when you flung yourself at him, clinging to his waist with that pretty whine he loved hearing so much.

“D-Draaaaa~!” You carried the ‘A’, pressing your damp cheeks into the leather of his jacket, along with pressing your chest into his side. He brought his hand to your back, eyes rolling as he went to pat it.

Only to feel that you weren’t wearing a bra.

Keep it together, Ken.

“Get on, c'mon you’re gonna catch a cold.” He was quick to throw his jacket over you, slipping you in front of him cause honestly, he didn’t trust you to hold on tight enough to him in your drunk state.

So he had you sitting in front of him. He instructed you to put your hands on the handle bras, sensing your hesitation as you continued to sniffle and whimper. He pressed his chest into your back, lips close to your ear.

“It’s alright, I won’t let anything happen to you. Put 'em down.” He felt the way you shivered, and he hated the way it made him smirk. When you finally planted your hands down he placed his much larger hands over yours. They completely engulfed your palms, and he hoped that the little whine you let out now was because of that.

He reeved off quickly, trying to slow himself down but unable to control himself as he sped off towards his place with you in tow.

He ended up carrying you up the stairs to his apartment. He had originally tried to work your heels back on, but you were very much against that, sending him your best pout along with a little “nuh-uh! Don’t wanna!” And since he didn’t want you stepping on anything nasty he settled for picking you up instead.

You were on his back, arms slung over his shoulder as you babbled nonsense in his ear. Something about how you drank too much tequila and ‘but how can you say no to free shots?’ Draken just shook his head, gripping one of your thighs a bit tighter as he worked his apartment door open.

“Easy.” He spoke as he placed you on the ground. You giggled when your legs wobbled, quick to grip onto Draken’s arm yet again as you finally let your heels tumble to the ground.

“Takemichi would kill you if he knew you were this drunk,” Draken stated, trying to keep the amusement from his voice as you used the wall to help yourself towards the couch. You looked back at Draken and stuck your lip out in a pout, before sticking your tongue out.

“Michi isn’t my daddy, I do what I want~!”

Draken almost choked on his spit. Did you really have to talk like that— say that in the cutest little voice? He was grateful when you started your trek to the couch again, so he could fix the bulge that started to form in his joggers.

“Oh, yea? Well, you shouldn’t, you can barely stand. And who was this guy feeding you shots?” Just the thought of some loser college boy trying to get you drunk, preying on you, made his brows twitch, knuckles tensing as he made his way to meet you on the couch.

“Ugh, just some loser. Claims he’s in a gang dra, just like you and Michi used to— but he’s no bad boy, no no he’s a creep~!”

“Yea?” Draken just chuckled coldly, fetching you a water bottle from the fridge. “Must be a real classy group of delinquents if they’re targeting girls like that—“

His voice got caught again when he finally saw you on his couch.

You had worked his jacket off you, sprawled yourself out on the cushions without a care in the world. The little tube skirt you were wearing was hiked up dangerously high, leaving little to the imagination as you turned your face away from the cushions, looking up at Draken.

And you had the audacity to giggle, “You’re couch s’comfy dra~”

one of your legs threatened to topple right off the couch, but if that happened, well it would certainly make the wimpy material hike all the way up.

Draken caught your knee before it had the chance, only making you giggle more. His heart was pounding against his rib cage, blood pumping dangerously fast to his crotch as he shot you a disappointed look.

“Be careful.” He gritted out through clenched teeth, and when you looked at him, eyes wide and glossy…

Draken had to have more willpower than this, didn’t he?

“D-Don’t be mean t’me” You were whining again, rolling over and pressing your face into the couch. Your leg slipped from his touch, and he thought maybe he’d be in the clear now.

But when you curled up, the skirt he put too much faith in hiked up, letting the swell of your ass free. Draken wanted to turn away, or at least throw a pillow at you, but he couldn’t seem to rip his eyes away from your pretty, soft skin.

You were still mumbling, something about him bossing you around. But Draken finally shook himself from the dangerous trance he was in, clicking his tongue and grabbing at your shoulder.

“Up, cmon, you’re going to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.” You spoke, voice nothing bratty as you tried to slip from his grasp. Draken wasn’t having any of it, not when he was only seconds from snapping.

“Too bad. Get up. You need water and sleep.”

“Nooo~!” You looked back at him, perfect lips pouting and this cute sense of defiance in your gaze that still swam with unclarity.

Draken wasn’t sure what it was that finally made him snap. Maybe it was the way you looked at him, maybe it was the brattiness that he knew he could work outta you, maybe it was how your ass now pressed into his thighs.

But whatever it was, it didn't matter. He was pressing his lips to yours, swallowing the little shocked gasp you pushed against his lips. He only pulled away when his lips began to pulse, a shaking breath puffing out against your trembling lower lip.

He kept his eyes glued to yours as his thumb swiped at the drool that lingered on your lip, another click leaving his tongue.

“Messy…” he murmured, more to himself than to you as you batted your lashes up at him, leaned into his touch as if on instinct.

Draken shoulda stopped. This would be the perfect time to back off, let you sleep off the alcohol on his couch and call Takemichi in the morning. Hell, you’re so drunk you probably wouldn’t even remember this little kiss.

But then you spoke.

“D-Dra.. y-your lips are reaaaal soft.”

“Fuck.” He swore for real this time, ignoring any sense as he pressed his lips to yours once again. It was so cute how hesitant you were, fingers trembling softly as they ran through his black ponytail. He had no problem slipping his hands beneath you, easing you up and into his lap.

“Fuck.” He mumbled it into your open mouth this time, feeling your warm little cunt pressing into his crotch. The panties you wore did little to conceal your sex, and it didn’t help that you were squirming in his lap, hips twitching into him and nails digging along his shoulders.

He had to pull back again, his palms planted firmly on your hips to keep you still. “Can’t— fuck. You can’t squirm like that baby.” He hated how desperate he already sounded, voice going down an octave and raspier than usual.

You bit the tip of your nail, face heating up along with the rest of your body as you slowly raised your gaze to meet Draken’s. “C-Can’t help it, I’ve never—“

Draken brows shot up, panic flooding his system. He did not want to hear you say you’d never kiss a guy before.

“Never sat in someone’s lap like this…” The relief washed over him, making his shoulders slump again. There was this swelling feeling in his chest, one that he didn’t exactly love, but he couldn’t stop it from coming.

It was the same feeling he got when he took Emma’s virginity.

“Oh, yea…? What else haven’t you done?” He was curious now, big hands rubbing reassuring circles into your hips. The skirt you were wearing before was useless now, bunched up at your hips and showing off the cute panties you wore. He tried not to stare as you tried to stutter out your words.

But Draken knew now, he was much weaker than he originally thought.

“I-I’ve kissed a guy! Obviously!! B-But…” There you were, pouting again. But the more Draken massaged at your hips, the more your whines started to sound like meek little mewls. “I-I just— I haven’t really done anything other than like.. touching I guess..”

He really hoped that you didn’t feel his cock twitching right under you.

Draken hummed in acknowledgement, bringing his face close to yours as soon as you looked down into your lap. “Just touching, yea? Have you ever held a dick before, sweetheart?”

“N-no!” He shouldn’t be teasing you like this, but he couldn’t help himself. His question just made you squirm again, and he enjoyed the friction just a little longer than he should have before he was gripping your hips again, giving you a more stern glance.

“I said, no squirming…” The corner of his lip twitched as you whimpered at him, eyes getting glassy all over again.

“M’sorry…” you spoke back through pouting lips, still having trouble meeting his gaze as your fiddled with the collar of his shirt.

Draken knew what he was doing was wrong, could hear the voices of his buddies taunting and teasing, claiming just how right they were about him. But being this close to you, seeing just how badly you wanted to hump against him, even if you were drunk.

How the hell was he supposed to let this opportunity go?

“Well… I don’t wanna spook you, angel. If ya haven’t done anything, I’ll just put you to bed, alright—“

“N-no!” Hook, line, and sinker.

“No?” Draken mused, his hands finally pulling you just a bit closer, his fingertips teasing over the flesh of your ass. You shook your head, clinging onto him a bit tighter.

“N-No I— I want…” your words trailed off, your own nerves getting the better of you.

Cute. It was so cute how words could get you flustered when you were already sitting in his lap, skirt pulled up and nothing but a little pair of panties keeping you away from him.

“Cmon. Use your words baby, what do you want.” He spoke to you with that same level of authority, watching the way your eyes slowly made their back up to his own.

“I-I want you to.. to teach me.”

He was smirking now, smug as ever. But it didn’t matter.

He had you right where he wanted you.

His lips were back on yours before you could continue to stutter, but this time he was lifting you up. He gripped your ass, urging your legs to cling to his waist as he carried you towards the bedroom.

Draken placed you onto the mattress with ease, working himself between your thighs that already opened up to welcome him. He was pleased to see that when he pulled away from the kiss this time you were panting, lips a little swollen and chest heaving as you looked up at him.

Already so curious, so desperate for whatever he was willing to offer you.

“I’ll teach you, baby.” Draken was speaking into your skin, planting kisses along your cheeks, down the column of your neck. He felt your pulses with his lips, the steady beat only picking up in pace when he looked up at you through hooded eyes. “But, you have to listen, you’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you?”

He already knew your answer, but he wanted to hear you say it.

“Y-Yes, I’ll be a good girl Dra…” you managed to whimper, voice slipping into a whine when his lips pushed over the flimsy strap of your tank top, dragging it down over your shoulder.

“Ken.” He laughed when you gave him this confused look. So naive, so very dumb.

But so very willing.

“Want you to call me Ken, can ya do that baby?”

When you realized what he was asking you let out a little “oh” and a nod, which pleased him to no end. His hand dragged your other strap down, leaving just a few inches left of coverage over your chest. It was the perfect place for him to pause, look you over just once more.

“Ask one more time for me baby, nice and pretty now.” This was his way of getting you to beg, and boy did you play into his hand so easily.

“P-Please Ken, please teach me, please—“

His will had broken long ago, the sweet sounds of your pleas, the tears that made your lashes clump. All of it had broken him down long before. His lips were back on your chest, one rough hand finally freeing your breasts from the confines of the little tank top you wore. He groaned as he squeezed each mound in his palms, the gasp you let put making his head feel light.

“Such pretty tits….” He murmured, his eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of your pretty nipples, which quickly peddled up as he smoothed his thumb over the bud. He poked his tongue out, curiosity getting the best of him as he swiped the wet muscle over your left nipple.

“O-Oh!--” Cute. He wanted to hear that little squeak on repeat, wrapping his lips around your nipple while he continued to massage the other. Your fingers quickly clung to his black hair, running through the soft locks before pulling him flush to your skin.

“F-Feels good Ken! Mhm! So good– I– want!!” Your words tumbled off your tongue mindlessly, mewls and whimpers getting pushed out as Draken released you with a pop. He licked his lips at your swollen bud, admiring the little indents his teeth had made before your tug on his hair snapped him back to reality.

“Watch it.” He warned, squeezing your breast hard enough to make you whimper. “Lemme take my time with you, Angel.”

“B-But–” You didn’t even know what you were pleading for, brain foggy as Drken moved on from your tits, large hands travelling to the hem of your skirt. The skirt was pulled from your legs with a few simple tugs, leaving you in nothing but a pair of dainty panties.

A pair that had a wet patch just waiting to be removed.

“You’re so cute…” Draken breathed out, his hands smoothing over your tummy, big enough to almost engulf your waist. Each touch of his fingertips on your skin left a tingling sensation, skin ablaze as you whimpered at him again, hips bucking off the mattress as he cupped your cunt.

“Please Ken…” You were gripping the sheets as he fiddled with the hem of your panties. Hooking his index finger under the material only to let it snap back against your sensitive skin. You could have cried from that, reaching for him.

Only for him to easily scoop up both wrists in one hand, pinning them back above your head. Although his eyes were nothing but stern, his lips were holding back a smirk, showing just how amused he was with how needy you became so quickly.

Although you didn’t notice, how could you when your only thought was him, his hands, his everything?

“Keep your hands up here, understood?” When he got a little whine and a nod he hummed in approval, pressing a feather-light kiss to your nipple. “Gunna teach ya how to feel good, but you can’t get in my way–”

“M’sorry, sorry Ken, won’t, please–” He let you babble on about apologize, easing your thighs open a little further. Once your fingers curled into the sheets above your head again he let go of your wrists, all focus drawn back to the little wet spot.

He was shameless as he pressed his nose into it, your scent instantly making him groan, pulling you closer to his face by the hips. He went as far as to nuzzle your covered pussy, pressing a kiss to where your clit was hiding under the fabric. You were trembling under his actions, each one making you whimper and whine for more.

“Smells sweet as candy, bet ya taste like it too, don’t ya?” There was a slur in his voice as his teeth took hold of the flimsy fabric, and rather than dragging it down your thigh he tore it off with one good tug.

You could have come right there, seeing the ruined pieces of your underwear dangling from his lips, the feral look in his eyes as he was finally met with the sight of your swollen pussy, covered in your own slick and making it glisten in the dim lighting.

He used two fingers to spread your lower lips apart, pupils only blowing out larger at the sight of your desperate little hole clenching at the air.

Beckoning him.

“First, you’re gonna come on my lips.” His voice was raspy, but it was enough to catch your attention, make you look at him with glossy eyes and a nod. “Gunna use my fingers too since I gotta work this pretty pussy open.”

“Kay ken, mhm… wanna feel you.” You muttered, the term pretty pussy making you flutter around nothing yet again. He just knew praise would make your brain turn off.

He licked one long stripe up your pussy, gathering the slick there. The action already had both of your groaning, a form hand on your hip keeping you pressed into the mattress as he let his tongue toy and flick at your pulsing clit.

“Oh! Yes–!” Every flick, every suck, every slurp of his tongue had you gasping, eyes squeezing out the pleasurable tears. It was like nothing you’d ever felt but you just needed more, needed to relieve that knot that was already so tight in your belly as Draken ate your pussy like it was his last meal.

You were just so sweet, just like he knew you would be, your arousal gushing onto his chin each time he kissed your clit. He knew you were wet enough by now, but he still spat a glob of saliva over your hole before slipping a finger into you.

Your mouth hung open in a little “o” as he pumped his thick finger in and out, and he couldn’t help but bite his lip at just how hard you squeezed his single finger.

Couldn’t help but think how tight you’d be when he finally bullied his cock into you.

“You’re so tight baby… gunna use another finger.” As much as he hated pulling his lips away from your pussy, he just had to see what your face looked like when he slid a second finger into you, and it did not disappoint.

You bit your already swollen lip, whimpering and attempting to buck away had it not been for the grasp on your hip. “S’too much, too much Ken–!”

“It’s just my fingers princess, you can take it…’ He was trying too hard to hold back his smirk, cooing praise as his fingers stretched out your gummy walls, in search of that one spot he knew would…

The tip of his index finally grazed the little lump, your eyes shooting open and your back arching from the sudden jolt of pleasure.

“There it is…” Draken hummed, massaging into the spot, making your body tremble. “This is your sweet spot, angel, feels so good, doesn't it?”

You nod, words lost to you as drool dribbles freely from your open mouth. It made him grin, adrenaline pumping through him as your pussy milked his fingers just like it would milk his cock… just as soon as he had a taste.

“C’mon baby girl, come f’me, yea? It’s gonna feel so good.” Draken’s words are a promise as he locks his lips back onto your clit. He’s suckling the precious bud, all the while his fingers massage your g-spot. He knows you’re overwhelmed, can tell by the way you jolt and cry.

But he needs to taste you.

You gasp as heat washes over you, the knot in your stomach snapping apart slowly. It’s the subtle graze of Draken’s teeth against your clit that sets you over, a cry of his name with a mix of slur’s spilling from your lips as you gush on his fingers.

Draken groans, you sounded so much better than he imagined coming undone. His fingers were pulled free quickly just so his lips could latch onto your cunt, lewdly slurping up your arousal even as your hips tried to desperately wiggle away.

“Fuckkkkk….” Draken groans as he finally lifts his lips from your swollen lower lips, the sight of his eyes narrowed and his chin covered in your arousal making your face heat up, embarrassment making you bring your hands over your face.

He chuckles, hovering back over you to press wet kisses along your arms. “Why are you hiding from me baby? Did so good f’me, felt good didn’t it?” His free hand petting your pussy, smearing your arousal over your skin and only further making a mess of your inner thighs.

You look at him through your fingers, slowly pulling your hands away when you catch sight of his handsome smile. You nod at him, hips bucking into his palm despite the way your clit tingles. “Mhm… felt good Ken, really good.”

“Good. Wanna feel better?” He asks, sitting up on his hunches. He grips the back of his shirt, easily pulling his shirt up and over his head, and the sight of his abs as you mewling for more. Your hands finally leave the sheets just to touch him, trembling fingertips smoothing over his abs with glossy eyes. He was so… so pretty? You had always thought so, but never acted on it, of course…

When his thumb smooths over your lip to collect the drool that leaks there you snap from your trance, his devious smirk making you whine. “You’re so cute.” He murmured, the dumb little look in your gaze only making his cock twitch harder.

So cute and so dumb, Draken was truly the luckiest man on earth tonight.

His cock was painfully hard when he finally pulled himself free, leaking a generous amount of pre that he used to slick up his length. His smirk grew when he caught you staring again, eyes wide and biting down so hard on your lower lip.

He held a hand out for you, helping you sit up a bit. He took your hand and placed your much smaller one on his cock, and the sight alone made him groan low in his throat.

Your fingers just looked so small as they wrapped around his length, your thumb rubbing along one of his veins with so much curiosity. You squeezed him and he hissed, instantly making your hand go slack around him.

“Not so tight angel.”

“M’sorry Ken…” You licked your lips, figuring out how much pressure to apply as you worked your palm up and down his shaft. Each time you almost reached the top his thick mushroom head would flush an even brighter pink, his pre dribbling from his tip and onto your fingers. Draken watches with wide eyes as you brought your hand to your lips, licking away his arousal with a pretty little sound.

Fuck.

He took hold of your hips again, lifting them so he could slide one of his pillows under your lower back. This angle had your hips sticking up a bit, your legs perched over his calves as he sat between your thighs. “Lay back” He instructed, and you didn’t pause with his instruction, laying back into his pillows while keeping your eyes glued to his cock.

“It’s gonna sting.” He warned, knowing that sting was probably an understatement as he laid his cock over your cunt, biting his lip to see that his tip almost reached your belly button.

“M’ready.” and you were, you wanted to be, your curiosity was getting the better of you, feeling his length rub over your cunt to get more slicked up, each time his tip caught your clit made you more impatient, reaching for his free hand and squeezing it tightly.

Draken positioned himself at your opening, greedy little hole sucking in his tip with minimal effort. It’s when the girth hit that you finally gasped, your rings of muscles attempting to make way for Draken’s cock. He shushed you with gentle coos squeezing your hand back and pressing warm kisses along your tear-stained face.

“Relax for me, little love…” He murmured against your skin, two fingers rubbing away at your clit. Draken was so tense and he held himself back, every muscle in his body rippling as he bullied his cock into your warm gummy walls.

“I-I–” You were stammering, chest shaking as you sucked in a breath. He had to be almost all the way in, right? When you saw only half of his cock had been pushed in you cried out a little, head shaking.

“S’not, not gonna fit~!” You sobbed, eyes watery as your legs trembled around him. He pressed a kiss to your lips this time, his finger never ceasing the slow circles on your bud to help break you open for him.

“It’ll fit sweetheart, promise, and it’s gonna feel so good… need ya to relax, can ya do that.” He looked at you,, expectantly, and who were you to say no? Not that you wanted to, considering your pussy was still milking away at what fit. You nodded, giving his hand another squeeze as reassurance.

Draken sucked in a breath of his own, and with one good jerk of his hips, his cock bullied itself all the way in, knocking up against your cervix and making you cry out for him. His fingers pinched your clit, the squeeze of your walls making his eyes roll back.

“Fuck– Jesus Christ, that’s it baby, my fucking god, you feel so good.” His own grunts drowned out your whines, which his delight soon turned to little moans as he kept working at your clit, your pussy holding him snuggly and almost refusing to let up.

It was the subtle bulge on your tummy, the outline of his cock sitting between your plush walls that really made him snap. He started thrusting, hips creating a steady pace that had his balls tapping up against your ass with each thrust. Your lips hung open in a silent cry, each pull and push of his hips making your walls squeeze even tighter. You were already too dumbed out to realize that Draken had placed the pillows beneath you because each time he was flush against you his cock head sat snuggly against your sweet spot, making your vision blur with each thrust.

“Fuck, baby, fuck. Got such a tight cunt.” He growled out through clenched teeth, the ring of arousal that already formed at the base of his cock making his own mouth water. You squeezed him like a vice, somehow tightening up even more each time he praised you, each time his fingers flicked your clit. Draken usually held pride at the fact that he could last in bed, holding out for the sake of his lovers.

But you? He just had to fill you up quick, had to see the dumb little look in your eyes when he pumped you full of cum.

Hit thrusts started to shake your whole body, breasts bouncing each time his hips smacked into your ass. His lips captured yours in a sloppy kiss, his tongue easily overpowering yours as your teeth clashed and drool fell down your chin. Your nails found purchase on his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped moons that had him groaning into your mouth.

“Milkin my cock like a good little girl, such a good girl.” He noticed your eyes rolling back, your body trembles ceasing only for a few moments as your high washes over you unexpectedly. Your vision went white when you came this time, the cry of his name making him hiss.

It was almost painful, the grip your pussy had on his cock as you gushed around him. The mess was beautiful, soaking your inner thighs and his pelvis, making a squelching sound each time he continued to pump into you.

“Fuckin came all over my cock?” he knew your answer but wanted to hear your sob out a pathetic little “yes” as he braces his arms on either side of your head. He knew better than this, knew that fucking into you this roughly, this sloppily could scare you off.

But your pussy was asking for it, leaving his cock drenched as he continued to knock up against your cervix, ground his hips so his dick massaged your g-spot. It didn’t take long for him to finish, his dick pulsing before spilling load after hot load into your walls.

You shivered at the feeling, body twitching and legs slowly loosening around him as his thrusts started to slow down. A bead of sweat fell from his brow and onto your face, making you whimper softly.

Draken was in a daze as he watched his cock slowly slip in and out of you. By the time he was all the way out, his length was covered in a shiny layer of arousal, milky and glistening. He sighed, a little flutter going off in his chest as your battered pussy clenched at nothing, pushing out a bead of his cum.

“K-Ken~” he knew he shouldn’t have pushed it back in with a finger, knew that was irresponsible and greedy of him, but the action was done before he could really think it over, his lips smoothing over yours to sooth your cries.

“M’right here babygirl. Did so good for me, m’so proud of you.” He rolled to his side, letting you cling and tremble against him as you came back down to earth. He had no problem petting your sweat-slicked hair, shushing you with little kisses. “You’re okay, such a good girl.”

If it meant you’d come back to him. And he was certain after this, you’d be crawling at his feet.

He didn’t bother leaving you, you were clinging onto him too tightly. So instead he just scooped you up, brought you to the bathroom. He was so gentle when he placed you on the toilet, and even though you were fussing about going in front of him, he was adamant about it as he washed his face.

“I can’t pee in front of you, Ken!”

“I’m not even paying attention, you need to try, it’s good for you, so you don’t get any infections.”

“What do you mean, an infection?!” He chuckled, of course, you knew nothing about that.

Once he had you calm again, face and legs clean from a washcloth he helped you slip into one of his old sweaters and a pair of boxers. You were basically sleepwalking back to his bed, mumbling something incoherent as you cuddled into his pillow.

“The bed’s all yours…” He spoke with a smirk, pressing a little kiss to your temple as he pulled the covers up to your shoulders. You were out in seconds, and Draken took your precious little snores as his cue to get up and stretch a bit, check his phone and grab water for you in case you woke up with a hangover.

It was 4 am, but what made his brows raise was the number of messages in the group chat. He clicked on it, ready for a good laugh. But instead, his stomach dropped.

Takemichi: Draken! Why is my sister at your place?!

Mitsuya: No fucking way…

Baji: Draken, you dog. 🐶

Chifuyu: How do you know she’s there?

Takemichi: I have her location! I was supposed to pick her up at some party but it says she is at Drakens !!

Takemichi: Draken I’ll beat your ass–

Baji: I’ll do it for ya buddy. 💪🏼

Mitsuya: ur done for dude

Mikey: dirty dirty kenchin ///:

Chifuyu: 💀💀

Kazutora: man strikes again 🫣

Pa-Chin: literally a sister fucker dawg

Mitsuya: ur never seeing my sisters again 🫡

Takemichi: they’re not fucking! DRAKEN YOU BETTER NOT BE FUCKING HER–

He was never gonna hear the end of it.

Property of Kenslilove ™️ do not copy, repost or bring onto any other platform!!

Member of: @enchantedforest-network @ghostqueue

#tokyo revengers fanfiction #tr fanfic #tr fanfiction #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x reader #ken ryuuguji #tr draken #ken ryuuguji x reader #ken ryuuguji smut #draken smut #draken x reader #draken x you #draken x y/n #ken ryuuguji x you #tokyo rev x you #tr smut

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madschiavelique · 9 months

Note

miguel has this habit - when he is stressed, he starts rutting and humping his clothed dick against you (just friction, no cumming). and since he has to put up with everyone’s shit - that happens a lot throughout the day. it’s like his brain shuts off for a few minutes and he is doing it on autopilot - no thoughts head empty ✌🏻😸 just the warm feeling of his best girl under his touch being there for him, and it’s enough to calm miguel down for a while. you’re quite used to it, and you don’t mind his brainless activity since it’s rather helpful for him and for you - you don’t need to do too much expect to hold your ground - once he thrusted so suddenly and strong it knocked you down 😅 (he felt really guilty after that). silly silly man

one day he was under so much stress that his crotch was basically glued to you. you felt bad for him - to see him so frustrated. but you felt bad for yourself too - his constant humping made your panties dripping wet and you couldn’t actually do anything about it while being at work. so when you two returned home, you finally could punish him for making you horny for all day in a best way possible - fucking him dumb until he can’t coherently respond to you 💅

i am SALIVATING anon dayummm

summary : miguel humps you when he's stressed (not proofread)

content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, dry humping, pnv sex - unprotected sex (be safe kids), fem!reader, no use of Y/N word count : 1,4k

tag list : @fandom-ash

It had become a ritual. As soon as the situation became too stressful, as soon as everything in his head became so hectic that his mind sizzled and his skin tingled, he would come to you to hump on you. It was automatic, he needed to get rid of all the stress and unpleasant sensations in one way. This helped him to decompress, to simply concentrate on his desires, on your body and its warmth to get away from work pressure.

You'd always find a way to get alone and he'd hump you, desperately, rubbing against you and letting the frictional sensations electrify and stabilise everything around him that was preventing him from keeping his mind straight.

He could hump your thigh, against your fingers as you encouraged him and kissed the side of his neck, and sometimes against your clothed cunt. It wasn't always easy, letting him do that for a few moments and then having to go back to work when he was calm again and you were left turned on.

And today, it was a particularly painful sensation as your desire grew. Miguel was taking you aside easily every hour, humping against your ass, almost fucking your hands, rubbing desperately against your cunt.

Your body was becoming more sensitive by the hour, and every time Miguel came to you with that apologetic look on his face, you knew you were going to be tempted and doubly aroused.

He'd come back to hump your covered pussy, and the longer the hours went on, the more painful your arousal became. Your clit was throbbing, your body all hot, and that cloud spreading and tightening in your lower belly kept intensifying as soon as you had those little private moments.

You knew that, if he continued for even a few minutes longer in those moments, you wouldn't be able to stand it any longer and might come.

You wanted so desperately to just take off your bottoms and panties while he stripped off his clothes so that you could feel him inside you, all warm and tight.

But he always left before either of you could taste the completion of your two shared pleasures. He would go away, and you would follow him to continue his work. You sat next to him and tried to rub your thighs to feel a little friction, something that would hopefully satisfy you even a little without being able to literally go do something about it yourself.

Miguel wouldn't let you move away from him, wanting to make sure that if the urge arose again you'd be by his side. Today he was afraid that if you weren't there just in case, he wouldn't be able to control himself, and he hated that: the lack of control.

So you suffered in silence, and he did the same. It was almost unbearable, like shaking a champagne bottle from time to time, the bubbles building up and ready to implode, but never being opened.

The power with which you led him into his quarters once the work was done was exceptional. You made sure the quarters were locked, and led him to your bed.

You kissed him with such appetite that he took a step backwards, soon coming back to feed on your lips. You pushed him down onto the mattress, straddling him as you humped him this time, almost aggressively.

The friction that your cunt and his cock were looking for had become necessary, sending little sparks of desire into both your bellies that would ignite a hungry fire.

You began to take off your costume, Miguel helping you with the task as his was depixelating. Your underwear was completely wet, proof of the excitement that had lasted you a whole day.

"Already so wet for me," he breathed between two pecks, humming as he came to kiss you harder.

Both your sexes were now finally naked, and a moan escaped from between your lips as you placed your cunt on him. His warmth against yours was a sensation you had been seeking all day.

You let yourself slide from the base of his dick to his tip, wanting to smear a little of your desire on his skin.

He let out grunts of desire, gripping your hips to make you move faster against him. You clit rubbed like that made you feel like your entire body was connected to one single place, and you finally understood the anticipation that Miguel could have on stressful days.

You understood all those sensations, those desires to have more without ever being able to satisfy yourself or let yourself have a climax for good, but now you were going to satisfy them.

"I'm going to take care of you now," you whispered as you held his dick underneath you, lining it to your entrance.

Without waiting for any response from him, you impaled yourself on him, both your mouths overflowing with moans.

At last you felt your walls closing in on him and not on empty space. You were so wet from all this previous unvoluntary teasing that you almost slid around him effortlessly, sinking down until your clit was in contact with the skin of his lower belly.

A drunken little smile graced your lips as you began to undulate your hips, the friction and sensations you'd so long sought finally present. Your pelvis was acting on its own, rolling back and forth like waves crashing on the sand as you watched Miguel's eyes close of pleasure.

He was guiding your thighs, grunts finally coming out loud and clear of his throat. He'd spent his whole day just grinding, and the setting prevented him from being even a little too vocal.

"Gosh you feel so good," he breathed in absolute adoration.

You kissed his lips and the crook of his neck, panting softly before nibbling and tracing his sensitive spots with your tongue. The poor guy deserved all this after the day he'd had.

And all the frustration he'd built up pushed him over the edge. Miguel didn't take long to come, the sudden sensation of your warm walls enveloping him at last driving him to climax.

His hips were jerking, single powerful thrust pushing into your cunt as he came while you were consciously clenching your walls to make him enjoy it even more.

You lowered yourself and kissed him, his cock still twitching deep inside you, and you continued to undulate your pelvis against his. You deserved to keep going, he'd made a wet humping mess of you in turn, and you earned your satisfaction.

"I'm not done with you," you breathed, carrying on riding him.

You arched your back as you moved forward, and rounded your pelvis as you moved back, his dick filling you in all the right places as he made you breath out soft moans.

He looked at you almost bestially, his eyes tinged a carmine colour.

You were a goddess, a true miracle before his eyes, your gaze planted in his as he watched you, running his tongue over his fangs.

He straightened up, coming to sit as you continued to undulate your pelvis. He put his hand on your hips to guide you against him, kissing your breasts lovingly, your chest, his hair completely dishevelled.

All day you'd had this storm brewing in your stomach, with the winds blowing stronger and thunder rumbling in the distance angry of this impossibility for pleasure.

He brought his hand down between your two bodies, gently touching your clit and starting to make circular movements around it while he kissed your shoulder.

"You're so good for me, nena." he sighed against your hot skin.

The moans that came from within you were full of desire, the electrifying sensation of his fingers on your flesh making you see stars as you finally reached the point of orgasm.

The storm crashed into full force, your whole body vibrating as a powerful moan rocked your lips, Miguel grunting as your walls closed around him with intensity.

He watched you, cheek resting on your chest as you came down from all the sensations, his eyes riveted on your drunken expression of pleasure.

But you needed more, your hips starting to move again soon after, an almost pleading sigh escaping Miguel's lips as he nestled his head in your shoulder. It was going to be a long night, much to your delight.

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