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nkogneatho · 3 months

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"𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊"

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊

—cw: lactation kink, mentions of pregnancy, dirty, nasty, depraved stuff, vaginal sex, period oral mention, monsterfucking in kuna's (sukuna's is way too dirty), dry humping, drinking breast milk obv, not proofread (this is too long and i have an event tomorrow)

—a/n: i have officially lost it. is it obvious i have lost it? idk if this is the best or the worst thing you will ever read but this is very depraved and nasty. like...aaaaaaaaaahh okay i am normal. i put my big titties non existent breast milk into this so please read it all and i hope you enjoy.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

— satoru is the man who is always up for something new. especially, if it involves pleasing you because he's a good husband and that's good what husbands do. he knows how to pull out the naughty parts out of you, but he had to work his way up.

"I am just saying. It helps. Believe me," your husband was arguing with you.

"Cut it out, Toru. I am not letting you suck my boobs."

"But why?"

"Because it's gross and weird." The moment those words left your mouth, he audibly gasped.

"Did you just call our baby's food gross?" You rolled your eyes. He's always like this. It's not like you weren't curious of his reaction when he does taste you, you were just scared that he'd be disgusted. Plus the post pregnancy hormones are worst as they make you emotional over the silliest things.

"Please, baby? Just this one time. I'll be a good boy I promise." You hate when he addresses himself as if he's an angel. He is a mischievous devil inside. But rather than having him pester you for the rest of the night and ruin your hard earned sleep (since your baby's cries always wakes you up) You thought maybe let him and just get it over with...

"mmph ffhuck." His moans vibrated through your skin, "mhmm god ywo twaste shwo good." The moment he said that, all the insecurity left your body, and heat forming between your legs.

"Ngh—toru..." you felt so embarrassed—so dirty when his eyes locked with you. Your lashes fluttered and you looked away but you swore you could feel him smiling on your nipples. Your husband really digs out the emotions you never thought existed within you.

He was pressing them together, playing like he had just found a new toy. You had never seen so much amusement in those blue eyes as much as of now. Bright pink tongue lolling out to taste the squirting liquid when he squeezed both your breasts together.

"Feels good, right baby? ah!" *slurp* He wiped the dripping milk at the end of his lips with his tongue, and you couldn't process. You felt so wet. And he knew you very well. After all, you've been together for so many years.

"Lay down baby. I'll fuck you while I drink you." You never thought you'd ever hear that sentence but there it was.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

— toji has always been an experienced man. he has definitely tried a lot of things. but there's always areas to expand knowledge and new things to learn. he wouldn't do anything that makes you uncomfortable but he knew the person he was marrying wasn't ordinary. you, deep down, were just very dirty like him.

You had your legs stretched on the sofa, upper body resting on your husband's lap. Since you guys had a baby, it was very rare for you rest. Being a parent is the best thing in the world but it also feels worse than a 9to5 sometimes. Today was a good day though. Your boy was sleeping soundly and you had some quality time to spend with each other. Well, it's hard to go on a date at this time, but you both were just happy to be in each other's presence.

Toji was mindlessly flipping through some channels after he got bored halfway through that one movie he was watching. His emerald eyes fell on your ipad screen where you were scrolling through what seemed like a baby product websites.

"I thought we had bought everything for little gumi." You looked up at him then back to the screen.

"Oh this isn't for gumi bear. This is for me. These are called breast shells."

"What? Show me." He took the ipad from you and carefully observed the product you were supposedly buying. "So what is this a fashion accessory for mommies now?"

"Hehehe," you giggled. "No, baby. My breast oversupplies sometimes and it ruins my dress. They prevent that." You watched him as he sat there in silence, poking his tongue inside his mouth. Within two seconds, he flipped you on the sofa, and gently climbed on you.

"Why are you buying that shitty thing when I am right here?"

"Toji, what do y—OH MY GOD!" he pulled out both your breast pretty quickly, all thanks to your maternity clothes. He knew you won't stop him. He knew you would get wet when he'd do that. And he was right on the money. He started sucking so hard, you felt...foreign. He had sucked them a hundred times before but watching him flick your nipples with his tongue and the milk trailing down, fusing with the tastebuds until it goes transparent and his adam's apple bobs when he gulps it. fuck.

Toji's obvious boner grinds against your heat as he suckled on those pretty tits. The wet patch on your panties were now staining his grey bottoms too.

"Overflowing down there too, mama? Hmph," he chuckled. You were to focused on the feeling of his lips on your nipples that you forgot to see his right hand moving down to cup your heat.

"Ngh—twoji," you mewled.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll take care of you." Thick fingers circled your wet clit, "Ya don't need those shells or whateva when i am right here." He is a great husband. He even saved you so much money that you were gonna spend on those silicones.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

—suguru worships you. it isn't obvious but you can feel his devotion towards you. the way his droopy eyes lights up when they fall on you, or his ears turn red when you kiss him. he loves how you take him in, struggling a little at first because he is girthy and a bit long, but when he bottoms out, you finally exhale and relax your walls around him. holy shit. he loves it. but this time, something different struck his curiosity.

"fuck. you sure we can do this baby?" He asked.

"'s okay, sugu. doc said we had to wait like six weeks and it's been three months." You were so busy in your post pregnancy life that you barely got time for just each other. You hadn't even kissed properly in months. "plus," you reached for his cock, "i need you." Those last words came off as a whine. You needed him and who is he to deny you off your pleasure.

You were on top of him as you positioned his boner to your entrance. He watched as your cunt swallowed him. This time, not struggling as much. Thanks to dilation.

"anh! suguuu~ mhmm missed your cock." You moaned so beautifully, he found himself falling in love over and over again. Yet, something was different. Normally, his eyes would focus down on how you well you take him as you ride it, but today he had found something rather more interesting. Your big tits bumped against his face and he couldn't take his eyes of those nipples. Those glistening nipples. He could see droplets of milk settling and honestly, they looked so fucking tempting. He let his intrusive thoughts win as you felt a warm sensation on your boobs.

"haaa—fuck. sugu, mhmm—no, it's gross" He didn't reply. He didn't need to. Pretending he didn't hear that was just right. Why would you even think anything about you is gross. He would kiss the soil you walked on.

"so fucking sweet. my sweet girl." *sucksucksuck* "these are f'me too, right? these were made f'me. hmm...sweet *suck* fucking *suck* girl.

congratulations. you just unlocked his new kink.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

—nanami is a gentke lover. we all know that. he is only mean in bed if you ask him too. that alone needs a lot of convincing because he is scared of hurting you. he is not too kinky but you can't say he's completely vanilla. he enjoys wrapping a tie around wrist as be eats you out. he also found himself getting hard when you called him "daddy." So yeah, he is a little kinky. But not in a million years Nanami Kento would've thought he would get hard watching you wipe the excess milk off your breasts.

"So i just put her down to sleep," you walked out of the baby room, with your left tit out, wiping it with a napkin. "What do you want for lunch—Kento?" He immediately broke the staring contest he was having with your boobs and looked at you.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Is everything alright? Is there something on my breasts?"

"Yes—I mean no. of course not." It was rare to hear panic in his voice which only made you mroe curious. You walked closer to him, hsi breath heavier than usual.

"What's wrong, Ken? Talk to me." shit shit shit. you were too close. he could feel your wet boobs rubbing against his cyan blue shirt. If you got any closer, you would loathe him for having a boner for such thing. He was ashamed of himself.

"Why are you looking away, baby? Do you not like me anymore?" Fuck. You're so stupid. Not like you? That man is in love with you so much. He cannot contain himself. You tried to get closer but he tripped on the foot of the couch and felk on it upright, and you on top of him.

oh.

OH.

You could feel it between your legs. You didn't even kiss him and it's not like you were seducing him earlier so you connected the dots pretty quickly on why he was hard.

"hmm hmm" you giggled. "is this what makes you hard you, ken? my lactating tits?"

"don't say it out loud, please." it was so fun seeing him all flustered. you adjusted yourself on top him as you thought of something very dirty.

"wanna taste? i know you're curious." he hesitated a bit, but a man like him can only go so high with his walls before he breaks them and let's his wife take control.

He started off with a few licks, testing his feet into the water. It was sweet with a hint of tanginess. The moment he felt it squirting a lot when he sucked, he fell in love. He acted like a kid who had just discovered magic. You chuckled between your heavy moans as you witnessed him trying to fit in your tits in his mouth as much as he can. You start grinding on him and it only makes him more desperate. He taps your thighs, a cue to pull your dress up and throw it in the floor. You watch as he hungrily latches his lips on your nipples quickly again. Your dress was not even off your arms yet. Nanami had discovered his obsession when he watched you squeeze you tits to squirt your milk on him.

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

—sukuna didn't even think it was possible for him to have a child as him being a curse and you being a human but here you were. he was in love with you. maybe his expression for love was different than others, but you felt it. be wasn't an embodiment of rage, but rather an overflowing confidence in his skills. That's where the cockiness came from. Existing for over a 1000 years, he thought he had experienced everything. Well...he was wrong.

"So...you just out this device on your chest and it gathers your milk?"

"Yes. It's called a "breast pump" and not a device," his vocabulary according to the new era was still weak but he was working on it.

When you detached the the vaccum of the breast pump from your boobs, Sukuna's eyes were fixated on them. He loved your tits. He had his fair share of biting and sucking on them till they were sore, but today they looked so plumped and so...succulent??

"What are you staring at? You want to drink it too or what?" You joked as you closed the lid of the bottle.

"Yes." You stared at him. Two minutes of complete shock snd silence.

"What?"

"What? You said if I want to drink it, and I answered."

"Yeah but—"

"Be a good wife, my little human. Good wives obey their husband's wishes." (Please let the feminist in you shut up for a sec and enjoy cuz i know he'd say smtg like this)

"Kuna...I don't know. It's nasty, y'know?"

"I think you're forgetting that I am a monster, baby. I ate you out during your those days of the month. This is less dirty." He yaps a lot someone shit him up before I die from embarrassment.

Sukuna laid you on the bed gently after getting you undressed. For the first time in so.many years, you were feeling shy again in front of him. It was quite an amusing sight to enjoy for him. He summoned a mouth on both his palm and licked your nipples. He wasn't sucking yet, but the hint of sweetness still laced his tastebuds.

"I am going to squeeze your breasts in my mouth now, okay?" Why did he feel the need to announce it? Weren't you already so flustered?

The tongues on his palm licked the skin of your tits before squeezing it when his mouth crashed against your nipples, spraying the milk. Sukuna sometimes forget you're a human. You're delicate unlike. The strong force of the suction made you whine and moan so loudly, it vibrated through the walls of the bedroom.

"mhmm I did not know my beloved wife enjoyed such depraved acts," he smirked when his thighs brushed against your bare pussy. you were dripping wet.

"Don't worry, little one. Let me please you. Hope you have pumped out enough in that bottle of yours. Because, I am going to milk you dry today."

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fuckyeahisawthat · 1 month

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There are so many places in the Villeneuve Dune adaptations where he just...takes all the narrative pieces that Frank Herbert laid out and subtly rearranges them into something that tells the story better--that creates dramatic tension where you need it, communicates the themes and message of the book more clearly, or corrects something in the text that contradicts or undermines what Herbert said he was trying to say.

The fedaykin are probably my favorite example of this. I just re-read a little part of the book and got smacked in the face with how different they are.

(under the cut for book spoilers and length)

The fedaykin in the book are Paul's personal followers, sort of his personal guard. They show up after his legend has already started growing (the word doesn't appear in the book until chapter 40) and they are people who have specifically dedicated themselves to fighting for him, and right from the moment they're introduced there is a kind of implied fanaticism to their militancy that's a bit uncomfortable to read. They're the most ardent believers in Paul's messianic status and willing to die for him. (They are also, as far as you can tell from the text, all men.)

In the book, as far as I can remember (I could be forgetting some small detail but I don't think so) there is no mention of armed resistance to colonialism on Arrakis before Paul shows up. As far as we know, he created it. ETA: Okay I actually went back and checked on this and while we hear about the Fremen being "a thorn in the side" of the Harkonnens and we know that they are good fighters, we don't see anything other than possibly one bit of industrial sabotage. The book is very clear that the organized military force we see in the second half was armed and trained by Paul. This is exacerbated by the two-year time jump in the book, which means we never see how Paul goes from being a newly deposed ex-colonial overlord running for his life to someone who has his own private militia of people ready to give their lives for him.

The movie completely flips all these dynamics on their head in ways that add up to a radical change in meaning.

The fedaykin in the movie are an already-existing guerrilla resistance movement on Arrakis that formed long before Paul showed up. Literally the first thing we learn about the Fremen, less that two minutes into the first movie, is that they are fighting back against the colonization and exploitation of their home and have been for decades.

The movie fedaykin also start out being the most skeptical of the prophecy about Paul, which is a great choice from both a political and a character standpoint. Of course they're skeptical. If you're part of a small guerrilla force repeatedly going up against a much bigger and stronger imperial army...you have to believe in your own agency. You have to believe that it is possible to win, and that this tiny little chip in the armor of a giant terrifying military machine that you are making right now will make a difference in the end. These are the people who are directly on the front lines of resisting oppression. They are doing it with their own sweat, blood and ingenuity, and they are not about to wait around for some messiah who may never come.

From a character standpoint, this is really the best possible environment you could put Paul Atreides in if you want to keep him humble. He doesn't get any automatic respect handed to him due to title or birthright or religious belief. He has to prove himself--not as any kind of savior but as a good fighter and a reliable member of a collective political project. And he does. This is an environment that really draws out his best qualities. He's a skilled fighter; he's brave (sometimes recklessly so); he's intensely loyal to and protective of people he cares about. He is not too proud to learn from others and work hard in an egalitarian environment where he gets no special treatment or extra glory. The longer he spends with the fedaykin the more his allegiance shifts from Atreides to Fremen, and the more skeptical he himself becomes about the prophecy. This sets up the conflict with Jessica, which comes to a head before she leaves for the south. And his political sincerity--that he genuinely comes to believe that these people deserve liberation from all colonial forces and his only role should be to help where he can--is what makes the tragedy work. Because in the end we know he will betray all these values and become the exact thing he said he didn't want to be.

There's another layer of meaning to all this that I don't know if the filmmakers were even aware of. ETA: rescinding my doubt cause based on some of Villeneuve's other projects I'm pretty sure he could work it out. Given the time period (1960s) and Herbert's propensity for using Arabic or Arabic-inspired words for aspects of Fremen culture, it seems very likely that the made-up word fedaykin was taken from fedayeen, a real Arabic word that was frequently used untranslated in American news media at the time, usually to refer to Palestinian armed resistance groups.

Fedayeen is usually translated into English as fighter, guerrilla, militant or something similar. The translation of fedaykin that Herbert provides in Dune is "death commando"...which is a whole bucket of yikes in my opinion, but it's not entirely absurd if we're assuming that this fake word and the real word fedayeen function in the same way. A more literal translation of fedayeen is "self-sacrificer," as in willing, intentional self-sacrifice for a political cause, up to and including sacrificing your life.

If you apply this logic to Dune, it means that Villeneuve has actually shifted the meaning of this word in-universe, from fighters who are willing to sacrifice themselves for Paul to fighters who are willing to sacrifice themselves for their people. And the fedaykin are no longer a group created for Paul but a group that Paul counts himself as part of, one member among equals. Which is just WILDLY different from what's in the book. And so much better in my opinion.

#dune #dune part two #adaptation #paul atreides #fedaykin

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mistiell · 1 year

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I'm Starvin', Darlin'

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary: Spencer realizes how touch starved he is when you, the newest member of the BAU, develop a habit of casually touching him throughout the day.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Fluff, mutual pining, bit of a misunderstanding towards the end, this hasn't been proofread so I might come back to correct some things later

A/N: So, I have been like, completely MIA for the passed few months, and I apologize for that. Life has been hectic and I haven't had any motivation. However, I'm back now! At least for a little while. This is my first fic for Spencer but I hope to write more for him in the future. There'l definitely be a part two to this sometime in the future, so look out for that.

Part 2

Spencer has never been one for physical affection.

Logically he knows that he needs a certain amount of it to survive, and he doesn’t particularly mind it anymore when Morgan claps him on the back or when he has to shake somebody’s hand. But when he’s pulled in for a hug, there’s this weird sort of anxiety that makes him worry about whether or not he’s holding on too tight or how long he can stay there without making it awkward. He’ll endure it if he thinks a hug would be the best way to comfort someone, but typically, he avoids them altogether.

That was, until you came along.

It was sunny out, and for the first time in a while, the blinds in the bullpen were pulled open to let the sun shine in. Spencer was sitting at his desk, flipping through his mound of paperwork when JJ had led you over to your new desk, right across from his. JJ had caught his attention to introduce you, but the moment he laid eyes on you, whatever she was saying went in one ear and out the other

You had to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life.

“Spence.” JJ’s voice snapped him back into reality and he was suddenly acutely aware of how long he’d been staring.

“Hm?” You’d giggled at his dumbstruck expression and he swore he’d do anything to make you laugh like that again.

JJ stared at him expectantly for a few seconds before rolling her eyes and gesturing to you again, “I said, this is Agent L/n. She’s our newest member.”

“Oh, right, um, I’m Sp-Spencer Reid. Er– Doctor Spencer Reid.” He was halfway through mentally berating himself when you smiled oh so kindly at him, extending your hand.

“Y/n L/n. It’s nice to meet you, doctor.”

“Oh, um, you can just call me Reid.”

“Right.” You very obviously looked him up and down in a way that made his heart race, “Reid.”

And then you sat down at your desk.

And he had to sit there and pretend he wasn’t utterly and entirely flustered by that tiny, microscopic interaction.

He came to realize about a month into your friendship that you were a touchy person by nature. You’d touch his arm when he made you laugh and sometimes you’d squeeze his shoulder before you sat down next to him at the round table. Six months into your career there and you’d gotten comfortable enough that you’d hug most of them when you showed up for drinks outside of work and playfully pinch Morgan’s arm or side when he got a little too brazen with his flirting. Sometimes you’d bump Spencer’s shoulder to tease him. It took a few times to get used to it, but eventually he started bumping you back.

Actually, he found that the more you touched him, the less he seemed to dislike it. In fact, he finds himself waiting for those casual displays of affection. Every time your skin meets his, he feels warm, revitalized.

Which is why on one particularly late night, when he’s utterly exhausted and the two of you are the only ones in the office, he feels comfortable enough to do what he’s about to do.

He thinks about it for a long while, never one to do anything like this without properly thinking it through. He’s just so tired and this case was so draining that, as pathetic as he thinks it is, he finds himself wanting to ask for a hug.

He won’t. He’s not that confident yet. But he thinks that maybe there’s another way to get away with touching you in some capacity.

So he rolls his chair over to your desk, attempting to casually plop down next to you so his side is practically pressed against yours. To his surprise, it actually works, though his casual “plop” is more like a rather awkward “slip-and-almost-accidentally-knock-you-over”. But you don’t mind. Instead, you laugh and bump his shoulder a lot more gently than he bumped you.

“Watch it, clumsy.”

“Sorry.” He chuckles, awkwardly clearing his throat, “What are you working on?”

“The mountain of paperwork that’s been accumulating since I got here.” You huff a short, embarrassed puff of laughter as you glance down at a notepad he hadn’t noticed, “That, and doodling.”

“Doodling what?” He asks, though he wonders how much he’s actually going to be able to pay attention when he’s so focused on how warm your thigh and shoulder feel against his.

“Oh, um,” Is he crazy or are you blushing? “It’s embarrassing.”

“I won’t judge.” After a split second of deliberation, he gently shifts his weight into his shoulder to nudge you just a little.

“Promise?” You smile shyly and he can’t help but smile back.

“Promise.”

There’s a second where you hesitate before sliding the pad over for him to see. He uses his middle and index finger to drag it over a little more and what he’s met with makes his cheeks warm and his heart flutter about in his chest.

It’s him.

You’ve drawn him at just about every angle, and in such detail that he wonders if you were trying to downplay your abilities or if this is really your definition of doodling. It’s clear you’ve done most of these by memory only because he’s had his head bent over his desk for the past few hours, and most of these are full views of his face. They’re unbelievably accurate, and he realizes you must look at him enough to have his facial features memorized.

“I-I know they’re not great, and I messed up your lips in a couple, but, uh–.”

“Wow.” He breathes in such genuine wonder that you cut yourself off. He looks up at you, a strange, viscous warmth weaving in between his ribs and settling to swirl in his stomach in such a way that it makes him feel a little sick. But, even more strangely, in a good way. He catches himself staring and quickly looks back at your artwork with a flustered smile, “I-I’m flattered. This is… I mean, you’re amazing.”

The moment the words leave his mouth, heat creeps up his neck and he rushes to correct himself, “I-I mean your work is amazing. Not that you aren’t amazing, because you are, but–.”

“Spence.” This time, it’s his turn to cut himself off. That’s the first time you’ve ever called him that.

And fuck, if he isn’t a goner.

You place your hand over his and his heart leaps into his throat, “Thank you.”

“Y-Yeah.” He’s so lost in your eyes that it comes out a whisper. With a little flush of confidence, he turns his hand palm up in yours to squeeze your fingers before hastily pulling away to avoid you noticing how clammy his hands are.

After that night, he finds himself seeking you out a lot more. Knocking his knee against yours under the table, tapping you to get your attention rather than just calling your name.

It isn’t until you’re both out with the team that he realizes he hasn’t been as discreet as he thought he’d been. He’s had a few drinks and is a little more than tipsy, which is never a good thing with how much alcohol loosens his lips. Especially when you’re sitting right next to him, definitely more sober than he is.

“Pretty boy, when did you get so comfortable with people touching you?” Derek asks, earning a rather confused look from the man in question. Before he gets a chance to respond, you’re asking exactly what he’d been thinking.

“What do you mean?” By the way he’s looking between the two of you, Spencer assumes Derek is referring to the way you’re pressed against his side – or rather, how he’s pressed against yours, considering he’s the one who leaned practically his whole body weight into your side the moment you sat down.

“You don’t know?” Emily asks, and you shake your head, “He doesn’t like touching anyone.” A knowing smirk creeps up on her face as she locks eyes with him, “Or at least he normally doesn’t.”

“Oh.” Is all you say in response. He doesn’t like the sadness in your tone, and he especially dislikes the way you shift away from him to give him space. There’s a rather startling urge to wrap his arm around you and pull you back to him, but he shuts that down immediately, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“Do you remember that time he dodged a handshake by telling the guy it would be safer for them to kiss?” Penelope giggles, clearly drunk at this point.

“You weren’t even there.” Spencer counters, laughing a little to diffuse the tension. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye and notices that your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

You’re a little too quiet the rest of the night. At one point, you leave for the bathroom and when you return, you slide your purse in between the two of you to keep a safe distance.

He hates it.

He hates it even more when you stop him outside the bar with an apologetic look on your face as you’re all leaving.

“Hey, Spence?”

He swallows the butterflies in his throat that surface at the nickname, “Yeah?”

“I, uh,” You clear your throat awkwardly, “I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you uncomfortable with all the, um… touching.”

He opens his mouth to tell you he really, really doesn’t mind it, but you accidentally cut him off, “I didn’t even consider that you might not be comfortable with it, and that was really inconsiderate of me. Now that I know, you don’t have to worry about it anymore. I’ll be sure to uh, keep my hands to myself.” You titter, glancing at your shoes sheepishly.

“Oh, it’s okay–.” He’s cut off again, this time by Emily, who’s yours and Garcia’s designated driver for the evening. “L/n! You coming?” She calls with a smile.

“Yeah!” You call back, before turning back to him. He watches you almost lean in for a hug, and a pang of disappointment stabs at his chest when you stop yourself in favour of nodding at him with a smile, “I’ll see you next week, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Is all he has time to say before you’re climbing into the backseat of Emily’s car.

He is seriously dreading going into work on Monday.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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mingtinys · 23 days

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" i'm not stopping until you smile "

pairing : lee seokmin x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : none

word count : 0.6 k

a/n :still not sure how i feel about the ending on this one

Sometimes it feels like the universe is actively out to get you. Like for some reason, whatever Gods above have chosen you as the perfect target for their cruel jokes as a cure for their boredom.

Everything that could have possibly gone wrong, had.

Your coffee spilled first thing in the morning, scorching your skin and ruining your uniform. The back left tire of your car was flat, forcing you to take the morning train. Which you missed due to your coffee incident. Work was hectic, your boss on your ass about anything and everything, and for some reason, every customer came in with a personal vendetta against you and you alone. And to top it all off, some creep wouldn't stop making comments at you on the train back home.

You're so desperate to just curl up in bed and hide from the world that you forgo the thought of dinner or cleaning like you had planned all together.

For what feels like hours, you lay there. Until the sun falls in the sky and your room fades into darkness. Unwilling to move even an inch to flip a light on or check your phone. Your apartment stays dead silent. Eventually, you hear the front door open and shut, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching closer. They pause just outside your bedroom door.

"Baby, are you in there?" Comes a voice, one so soft you nearly burst into tears from the sound of it alone. "I'm coming in, okay?"

The knob turns and in comes Seokmin, illuminated by a halo of light that pours in from the hallway. He takes one look at you and frowns. "Are you okay?" He asks, setting your spare key and his phone on your dresser before sitting on the edge of your bed.

"I got really worried when you weren't answering after work," he continues. "What happened?"

"It's fine, Seok," you sigh, already feeling like a burden on him. "But it's been a long day and I just really want to handle it alone, okay? I'm sorry you came all the way here."

He just stares at you, sad eyes searching your face for some type of answer. You feel like you've just kicked a puppy asking him to leave, but it's best this way. Seokmin's heart is far too soft, ready to soak up every ounce of negative emotion it can for him to bear the weight of. And you hate seeing Seokmin sad.

"You don't have to handle it alone though, that's what I'm here for." You really wish you could return his cheery optimism and put him at ease, but instead, you simply turn in your cocoon so you won't have to face his disappointed expression. Yet somehow, that doesn't deter him.

Whereas anyone else probably would've up and left by now, Seokmin simply scoops you up into his arms, blankets and all. He starts pressing wet, sloppy kisses all over your face before you can voice a single protest. Even when you attempt to hide from the barrage of affection in his chest he doesn't let up.

"Seokmin!" You whine, palms coming up to shield your face. He just laughs and easily pulls your wrists away, looping them behind his neck before pressing two more pecks to each cheek. Seokmin leans back to examine your face.

"I'm not stopping until you smile."

"I appreciate you trying but–"

Yet another merciless attack befalls your face, this time with exaggerated mwuahs for good measure. Though every few kisses, Seokmin mutters small, sincere 'I love yous' that begin to chip away at the walls you'd so desperately tried to construct.

So when your boyfriend finally pulls back for a second time he begins to beam with pride at the lopsided smile ghosting your lips. "There it is," he coos, softly lifting your chin with his thumb. "Now tell me, what almost stole my favorite sight in this world from me?"

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi @myfavoritedelusion @tanya596carat

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yourlovermumu · 11 months

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yandere!husband who loves you so much that all he has ever wanted is to make you his wife and have you by his side forever.

he just really loves you. and the fact that he gets to come home to his pretty little wife greeting him with a ‘’welcome home honey!’’ makes his heart beat against his ribcage so loud that his almost sure you heard it too.

at first it was a little hard for him to get used to all this. you greeting him with a hug and a warm smile when he comes home, cooking him delicious food, feeding him with your own hands from time to time, cuddling him, and the fact that he gets to see your face first thing in a morning when he wakes up.

yandere!husband can hardly keep up with everything without blushing like crazy from the littlest things. poor man just loves his girl so much.

so it shouldnt come as a surprise when he just cant take things anymore sometimes and ends up fucking you like a dog in heat near the closest surface he can find.

its still hard for him to process sometimes that your his, he gets to have you, you agreed to be his forever. and his so grateful for it.

and he just loves to come home to you in the kitchen with an apron on, cooking him delicious food.

theres just something about you in an apron..that drives him insane.

just coming home to his pretty little wife in an apron..wow

he would come behind you and hug you securely from behind while your stirring the food. burying his face in the crook of your neck, sniffing it a little to inhale your scent. ‘’mhm...you smell so good sweetie..’’ he whispers as he places soft, gentle kisses on your neck that tickle you.

you giggle at his kisses as you tell him to stop but he just smiles and pouts with a ‘’no baby, let me give you my love’’ he says as he continues trialing kisses from your neck to your shoulder. slipping your shirt down on one shoulder where his trailing down kisses. he eventually starts biting you softly.

‘‘love, whats gotten into you- mh- ah..your..uhm..please wait till the the food is done baby.’‘

he doesnt say anything, just keeps kissing, biting and licking your tender skin.

you reach your hand behind to grab his hair to somehow pull him away. and it does seem to work as he lifts his head up and comes to whisper in your ear, ‘’sweetie, dont be so cruel to your husband, dont deny my love and affection. it hurts me’’ he says with a fake pout.

you sigh at his behavior, ‘’mhm, sorry love, i just need to get this done, you dont wanna eat burnt food now do you?’’ as much as you wanna give in you cant possibly do so when your cooking, you would hate to feed your dear husband brunt food after all.

his hands stay wrapped on your waist as he hums, as if his considering it. but then a smirk quickly makes its way to his lips. as he licks your earlobe and then whispers, ‘’then..why dont you just turn the stove off and give me a little of your time darling? just for a bit, i promise. wont keep you for long baby.’’ he says as he places gentle feather kisses on your neck again. trying to slowly convince you.

you gulp, trying to fight the little voice in you head that tells you to just give him what he wants. ‘’can’t you wait a bit longer baby?’’

‘‘can’t, can’t wait anymore baby.’‘ he responds

‘‘been thinking about you all day.’‘ he says as he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck.

‘‘do you know what seeing you in this cute little apron is doing to me baby? do you know what its making me want to do?’‘ he asks as he flips you around, lifting you up into the kitchen counter. as he leans in close to your face. both his hands on either sides of your thighs ‘’hm?’’

you shake your head at his question. he chuckles when you do so. ‘’guess baby, guess’’ he says with a smile, waiting for you continue.

‘‘its..making you really needy..isnt it, love?’‘ you ask, giggling.

‘‘thats right baby, its making me so, so needy...its making me want to..take everything off besides the apron.. thats what its making me want to do.’‘ he says sternly.

he smiles when he sees you flustered by what he said, a small chuckle leaves his lips, ‘’and tell you what’’ he pauses to look right into your eyes before speaking again, ‘’i dont think you’d stop me’’

‘‘aahh-! ah-! wait-! mh-mhmm..’‘ you moan as your left hand tightens on his hair. pulling and tugging it. but his not moving an inch. his too lost in pleasure to just stop and give you a moment to breathe. this whole moment, situation, is so amazing to him he cant possibly just stop. especially right when your about to cum again.

‘‘make a mess of my face baby...dont hold back.’‘ he says as he moans into your pussy. sending vibrations through your cunt and making you shiver.

‘‘gonna cum...’am gonna cum-!’‘ you warn as tears spill down your cheeks.

yandare!husband only hums with his face stuffed between your thighs as he sucks and licks your pussy messily with two fingers stuffed into you. his cock twitching and leaking in his boxers from your screams, moans, and whines. everything about you is just so beautiful to him.

it doesnt take long before your squirting on his face without a second warning. he tries to take every second drop inside his mouth desperately, like his a starving man. he licks you clean as he holds both your thighs apart.

‘‘so sexy...i didnt know you could squirt like that..’‘ he chuckles as he looks up at your face. such a fucking mess you’ve become. your huffing and panting with sweat drenching your face.

#yandare #yandare smut #smut #jujutsu kaisen #gojo smut #gojo #nanami #nanami smut #toji #toji smut #sukuna #sukuna smut #OBEY ME #obey me smut #one piece smut #diavolo smut #mammon smut #satan smut

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lizardaggro · 6 months

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on the flip side (twst bully!au) pt 3

here we are, the long-awaited (it was literally like 1 day) part 3!! i wanted to declare on one of the actual chapters since those get seen by the most people that I DID NOT MAKE THIS AU, credit i believe goes to @azulsluver. i swear i don't hate you guys, leaving everything on a cliffhanger, but the good news is i have a lot of time on my hands due to chronic illness so i can update super often. also i gave up on the purple theme on posts bc tumblr hates me and always leaves the end of the word count black.

part 1 part 2

genre: gn reader, angst trigger warnings: bullying, mild yandere (will be escalating throughout the series, but no non-con) word count: 1246

You couldn’t really afford to space out and think about it though, not when he was right in front of you. Riddle tapped his foot impatiently, clearly irate at your lack of response. “Well?” He asked. “Do you not even have anything to say in your defense?”

Oh dear. However were you supposed to get rid of him when he was so intent on getting some sort of answer out of you? You had no idea what he wanted! He was more difficult to threaten, too, since you’d made up your mind that you didn’t want to be like your tormentors and completely ruin others’ lives. No, your end goal was just to make them leave you alone. After everything you’d been through, you really didn’t want to see them again.

It might seem strange to some people, that you weren’t dead set on destroying any semblance of normalcy they once had. You had all the ammunition you needed, of course. The Overblot victims would be the easiest to topple, considering what they’d done in and leading up to that state. But you didn’t think you were a particularly vengeful person; at least, you didn’t want to be. Crowley had always said that you must’ve been sent here to get his precious students to work together, so clearly you weren’t like them.

“I never asked for this, Riddle. Any of this. So if you think somewhere in your fucked-up mentality that you’re doing me some sort of favor, you’re dead wrong,” you intoned. Indeed, even though you just wanted them gone, you missed the days when you were all friends. Back when you thought everyone had your back no matter what. Oh, if only you knew what they’d do for you. It wouldn’t be hard at all to push some of the more unstable students over the edge. Those who felt they didn’t have anyone else. Much like a certain dragon fae who never did seem to get invited to things.

Riddle looked like he was about to say something, but before he could, he was drenched by a great torrential rain. Where did that come from? Didn’t the forecast say it was supposed to be clear skies and sunny for the rest of the week? Your question was soon answered, as you had two more visitors.

“Silver? Sebek? What brings you here?” You inquired, not at all amused. When those two showed up at the same time, it could only mean one thing, and it wasn’t good. Riddle looked like he had caught on as well, since he stepped in front of you, as if that would do any good.

“LORD MALLEUS REQUESTS YOUR PRESENCE!!” Sebek boomed. You’d made progress on his volume in the past, so you were sure he did it just to annoy you. Silver just stared. He always stared, you felt like. Sometimes you swore you could feel his eyes on you even when he was nowhere to be found.

“Oh, gee, I wonder what that’s about,” you snarked. “Poor little princey-poo doesn’t want his embarrassing little secrets getting out? Well you can tell him to fuck off.” You must’ve been feeling especially brave, since normally you knew that defying Malleus Draconia was as good as a death sentence. He wasn’t even that bad, compared to some of the others. He just… locked you in his room and made you listen to him talk, with no room to get a word in edgewise. He’d go on and on about one thing or another for HOURS, with no regard for your schedule or your bodily needs. Clearly fae had a different sense of time than most.

It was the loss of control over your own life that you hated; that, and that if he really still considered you a friend, he never bothered to do anything about your bullies. You knew he was more than capable; you’d witnessed his strength firsthand on multiple occasions. You didn’t know what his endgame was, and frankly you were too scared to find out. He could trap you there forever and you wouldn’t be able to do a single thing about it.

Sebek was not amused. He raised an arm, likely to strike you, but Silver placed a hand on it, effectively stopping him. “Don’t. You wouldn’t want Lord Malleus to see a bruise on them,” he reasoned. You didn’t get it. Since when would he care? Sebek roughly shoved Riddle out of the way, despite all his objections, and nonchalantly slung you over his shoulder.

“What the hell?!” You screeched, pounding your fists on his back. “Put me down! I’m not going!” You weren’t sure why you were objecting so vehemently; this time wasn’t any different than the others. But something about the dark gray clouds pouring rain on what should’ve been a lovely day just told you that this was not going to be good.

But alas, your plight was ignored. The three of you made your way to Diasomnia in silence. No one bothered to stop and stare in the halls, as you being carried off by people was somewhat of a normal occurrence. You could swear Savannahclaw and Diasomnia even had some sort of twisted capture-the-flag game going, for whatever reason.

When you entered the gothic-style castle, you were greeted by none other than Lilia. Much like Malleus, he’d never bothered you too terribly, only engaging in less-than-welcome pranks. You knew he was far older than he let on, so you supposed he didn’t see the point in such childish endeavors. There was, however, one thing you feared about the man: his cooking, which he tried to shove down your throat at every opportunity. How Silver grew up healthy you’d never know.

And so, of course, you were greeted by a plate of… well, goop, to put it nicely. “Here, have a seat, dear, I made lasagna,” Lilia offered with what you assumed was supposed to be a warm smile. To you in that moment, with the fumes starting to reach your nose, it looked like a shit-eating grin.

“I’ll pass, thanks. That is to say, I’d rather die than eat that shit, because it looks and smells like it’ll send me straight to hell,” you deadpanned. Sebek let out an unholy screech and started ranting about how dare you refuse Lord Lilia, even though you knew he wouldn’t want to eat it either. You did your best to tune him out. Silver looked relieved, surprisingly enough. You supposed he was able to empathize since he grew up eating the stuff.

Luckily for you, Lilia just sighed and walked off, taking his culinary abomination with him. The three of you who remained shared a look. “How are you still alive after all these years?” You asked Silver. He shrugged. If even he didn’t know, you’d just call it a miracle.

“SILVER, QUIT FRATERNIZING WITH THE ENEMY! LORD MALLEUS IS WAITING!” Sebek practically screamed in your ear. You really wished he would stop doing that. But you had more important things to worry about, like your impending death by dragon fae. Once you arrived at Malleus’s room, Sebek set you down and pushed you inside. You heard the lock click behind you. You gulped, feeling the pressure of being alone in a room with a presumably angry and very powerful mage. You looked up to see a pair of emerald eyes staring you down. Oh boy, this was not going to be fun.

taglist: @twistedcece @slxt4h1m @teawhere @pleasehugmeaether @reivelmin @aoiyx

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst bully!au #twst bully au #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts #sebek zigvolt #twisted wonderland silver #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia

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specialagentlokitty · 6 months

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10th doctor x deaf!reader - the way you talk

Heya! Absolutely love your work! I've been rewatching doctor who ready for davids comeback😍 it's kinda hard because i'm deaf and sometimes the subtitles dont keep up with the timings😫 i was wondering if i could request a 10th doctor with a deaf reader if possible pleaseeee, thanks 💜 - Anon💜

A/N: Italics will be sign language

The TARDIS enabled the doctor to speak and listen to every language there was.

And for somebody like it, it was amazing, incredibly useful, meaning there wasn’t anything that would be lost in translation.

But, he realised there was limitations to this, and that he wouldn’t make him an expert in some areas, especially sign language.

He knew some, enough to get by if needed.

But when he met you, he realised that wouldn’t be enough if he wanted to communicate with you.

You talked through notepads and text messages, but for him it wasn’t enough, he wanted more. He wanted to communicate with you the way you had to.

So, when he had some free time, which surprisingly was quite a lot considering he always seemed so busy, he began to learn.

And when he next went to pick you up, he wore a grin from ear to ear as he waved at you.

You waved back, following him into the TARDIS, and you set your notepad and pen on the console, putting your bag out of the way before coming back over.

The doctor was flicking through the notepad, and you waved your hand at him, gesturing for him to pass it back.

Quickly writing in it, you flipped it over and held it out to him.

‘Where are we going?’

The doctor beamed.

He took it from you and set it down, making you furrow your brows a little bit, and he began to put some coordinates in.

You took the notepad again, asking him where he was taking you, but he wouldn’t reply, so you knew it was a surprise he had planned for you.

Which wasn’t so bad, except usually his surprises ended in some sort of running or rescue situation.

He was bouncing around, and you smiled as you watched him, leaning against the railing as you just watched him bounce from thing to thing, doing whatever it was he needed to do.

You didn’t quite know how the whole TARDIS worked, and he had offered to explain it, but you didn’t want him to sit there for hour writing it all down.

You were happy not knowing.

As long as you were travelling with him you didn’t care.

He bounding over, and with a grin he held out his hand to you.

“Come with me.” He said.

He knew you could lip read, so often he would just speak to you.

Sometimes he would forget and be stood behind you, trying to have a whole conversation with you and getting confused when you wouldn’t talk back.

You smiled, placing your hand in his, letting him lead you to the doors and outside.

It was bright, multiple sun sun the sky. It was warm, it wasn’t hot, it seemed like the perfect temperature.

The sand was a vibrant shade of gold, and in the distance the heatwaves rippled about, creating almost an illusion if there being water over there.

The doctor looked at you, smiling even more when he saw you smiling, and he reached out, tapping your shoulder.

You turned to him and he took a small breath.

I don’t know if I’m doing this right, I’m still learning.

Your eyes shot open at the sight of him signing, carefully watching what he was doing as he carried on.

But I want to make it easier for you to talk.

He looked at you slightly nervous.

How long have you been learning? When did you start?

You carried on signing questions and he quickly took your hands to stop you.

Laughing slightly, the doctor smiled and let go.

Not so fast, I’m still learning.

You grinned sheepishly.

Sorry. Why did you start?

So I could talk to you.

You furrowed your brows a little bit.

Yes we write or text to each other, but I want to talk to you properly. The way you do, I wanted to make it easier on you.

You smiled and rushed to hug him tightly, and he happily hugged you back.

He had a long way to go, but with some practice and you to help guide him, he would be able to have longer conversations with you in no time

#doctor who #doctor who x reader #doctor who x you #doctor who x y/n #doctor who imagine #tenth doctor #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #tenth doctor x y/n #tenth doctor imagine

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qawcamiz · 1 year

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A Reward

VAL + MLIST ; Happy Valentine's! It doesn't intrude on anyone if you'll be spending the particular day this month brings in, alone, we can spend it together with these one-shots I've prepared just for you, hoping it would send passion to you.

NSFW : office sex, secretary x ceo, humiliation, dominance, cockwarming, teasing, fingering, exhibitionism, praise, teasing, pet names, riding, cursing, degradation, penetration, etc.

note : I was only gonna do one character but since I've been inactive, yall take this, Happy Valentine's! The poll's ending and so far, secretary y/n x ceo is in the lead, whatever won would be the result for the female version as well. 💗

[ male ver. ] — Al Haitham, Ayato, Dainsleif, Diluc, & Tartaglia

│ AL HAITHAM

doing something nasty with your boss was something you never thought would ever happen to you in your lifetime of work at a publishing company, especially in your life as a bitter individual, but here we are, with the most recent edition in progress. you felt your stomach flip whenever he would thrust up his cock inside you further, the warmth radiating off his body seeping into yours, and that one thing you had always been discreetly craving for came right back again.

it's funny how all those sexual thoughts about him that you have never really let yourself admit to anyone, in particular, come rushing to mind when you think about what it might be like to fuck him, to have sex with him, it’s almost enough to make you feel ashamed from your desires.

"S-Sir... Please..." you begged him, and though it was difficult for you not to plead with him since he liked edging and teasing you like this to get you into positions where you would just do what he said or say something he wanted you to, you pushed your best to the limit to withstand him.

"Can't even wait until I finish my work, huh? Like a naughty thing you are, entering my office without even knocking first." He whispered seductively, You bit your lip, hoping you didn't make things worse for yourself by refusing to look at him. "I'm sorry... I-It won't happen again... I... Was just in hurry to- to get the work done as fast as p-possible so you'd get off early, s-sir..." you explained, your voice quivering and barely audible, but you were doing everything you could to hide how flustered and embarrassed you were at that moment. You didn't want to seem weak before him, it would only make him more determined to have you as his cocksleeve,

He hummed in reply, and you heard the shuffling of papers behind you, "So what? You want me to award you or something for doing that? I never asked you to rush the work, but if you must insist on having your head held down, then I can't deny you this." he told you. You gulped and looked at him sheepishly, You weren't exactly sure what he meant, but you knew for a fact that you wouldn't refuse anything he asked, especially if it involved getting to kiss him or touch him, you just couldn't help yourself sometimes, you had fallen hard for him. "if you can wait for me to finish this, who knows? I might even consider rewarding you."

│ KAMISATO AYATO

The sound of skins clapping and your wails are the only voices that permeate the room. You’ve lost trail of time after all this. In a way, You wouldn't lie, it was kind of nice though, being so immersed in the sensation of someone else or rather your 'boss' who's doing you to such a great extent that it leaves you feeling like a mess.

The chimes that come out of your mouth were loud enough to drown out any thoughts and doubts that might come to the surface, even if you try not to think about them at all. You're not certain how long you've been laying there with your hands clutched together, but all you could think at the moment is how much satisfaction he had given your body from the inside.

"You've been working pretty hard, (y/n)," You felt an arm caress your waist, Ayato pressed his lips against your neck. "And for that, You deserve a reward." His lips move to smooch your skin as he speaks to you, sending shivers down your spine every time. It's almost like he knows precisely what you feel and how to please your body just right, leaving you unable to move on your pact.

the way his cock moved inside your tight walls while he fucked you into thoughtlessness and made you enjoy the moment better... It made your heart beat faster, He was so fine, the way he would move with his lips on your neck and his cock into you made everything more severe than it should have been.

"A-Ayato~" you couldn't help but whine loudly when he started moving slowly in and out of you from behind. The oscillations of his hips against your own caused warmness to pool between your legs, stretching out through your whole body and making you want more. He groaned and bit your earlobe. "Normally, I'd be furious for you calling me by my name informally just like that, but today I'm just too busy here to care," Ayato said in between heavy pants. Your mind went blank as you felt him hit that particular spot, causing you to arch up and let out another moan that sounded less like a word and more like a plea.

│ DAINSLEIF, & DILUC

you were always curious about his reputation, in fact, you never get how your workmates are drawn into him! He was all cold and mysterious, always working at his desk and barely interacting with his employees. But then again, there is no shortage of people who are frigid and bizarre, to begin with. You know this. everyone was envious of you for being taken the yield of as his 'assistant' but that's just how things are between the two of you. It's not like he behaves toward you differently or anything, it's just that you can see right through the facade he puts up when it comes to his emotions toward others.

so now it's all weird to say that you're giving your boss the best day ever, How did it happen? it was because you had an argument with him and now with his dick inside your mouth, it felt really good, especially when you heard some sounds coming from his pretty lips. He sounded like he was having trouble controlling himself and you thought he would stop you but he didn't. so that's when your brain finally clicked. you were both horny, and the only way to relieve that pain would be to do something to each other.

but no, you were being disciplined for speaking disrespectfully toward him, and now would you even call this punishment? giving him a head like this makes you feel incredible, especially when your hands roam around his body, touching what you could brush. you don’t know how to describe his body, he has a ton of muscles that move with every movement he makes. it’s all amazing to you. you wish this feeling will last permanently because right now you think you could fall asleep with this man's cock inside your mouth, your lips wrapped around his shaft.

you’ve been sighing softly and he seems to be getting a kick out of this too. maybe he finds it as arousing as you do, maybe he's aware of what you want, or maybe he doesn’t give a damn either. you don’t know but he seems to be getting more impatient, and soon his hand is on your hair, pulling slightly so you open up further to take a better hold of his cock. “oh... your mouth... Fuck” he mutters breathlessly before thrusting into your throat harder than before. you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second and you don’t think that’s fair because this isn’t even fucking you yet.

the noises he makes and how his dick slides into your mouth smoothly feel like heaven in the best way possible. he’s almost completely out of breath by now and looks like he might collapse any moment. you have him now, your fingers tightly wrapped around his shaft, pumping him with your mouth as hard as you can just to earn his forgiveness.

| TARTAGLIA

Your tight walls hugged his cock as if they were the very walls of your heart. Your hands held resting on his shoulder with your weight as you pressed your body onto him. You rode him hard until he cried out in euphoria. His face was buried in your neck, his hair was soft, and his scent was intoxicating.

He felt you squeezing his hips to keep his cock deep inside of you. He was aching for discharge, you could sense it. But the instant his hand wrapped around your waist, you gasped. His touch left an ice-cold trail across your back. The way his fingers traced circles on your skin made you shudder. He had that effect on you that no one else ever could. It was so powerful, so captivating. It wasn’t until that moment that you realized how much you liked this.

You like all of the noises he's making, the feeling of your thighs against each other, the roughness of your bare legs digging into his chest. You're sure that it makes him think of other things too when you're fucking him, but you don't mind at all. There's just something about having someone so passionate about sex, but so careful with everything else as well. "You're so tight..." he groaned, It's like you're in sync with each other, both of you moving in perfect tandem. You want to be as close to him as possible. So when he touches your shoulders or your ass, you let go and take his hand wherever you can reach. And that feels good. You love his big strong hands roaming over you. They are bigger than your own but softer. Like when he caresses you from behind, his touch lingers as it travels upwards.

"Not only were you good at seducing others," he says, "But you also knew what you were doing." His breath tickles your ear and you shiver. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of your hole has you moaning softly. It seems like the only thing that sounds louder than your breathing, and that alone makes you crave more. Your body aches for more. Your eyes flutter closed, enjoying the feeling of having him inside you. You move your hips up again and again, pushing yourself against him as if trying to draw every bit of his cock into you. It drives both of you insane. All of it. Everything.

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sideblog-ver3 · 6 months

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spider webs (18+)

i need spider-man/peter parker. gosh like so badly. wish i involved more webbing concept, but if i wrote more it would end so horribly. first full smut fic, so go easy one me. also this is for adult peter parker so no marvel peter (kinda had ps5!peter in mind) don’t think too much, just enjoy the ride my friends (WC: 2.1K) dividers @firefly-graphics

reader with a vagina, oral (f), slight bondage (webbing)

vampires and boobs (my other fic)

peter parker and spider-man are two different people.

peter parker is a kind, scientifically smart, nerdy guy. he helps his aunt may at f.e.a.s.t. in his spare time, he works as a physics teacher for a high school in brooklyn, and he’s the best boyfriend you could have.

now spider-man is a part of peter, but they are two different people. he’s the friendly neighborhood spider-man, the amazing spider-man, the spectacular spider-man and any other adjective jameson could type up for the daily bugle. he was a wall-crawler webbing up the bad guys while still looking out for the little people. he had a sharp tongue with a snappy quip ready to fly, easy going personality for a friendly chat, and also could be deathly serious when the time calls for it.

he was clad in red and blue spandex that hugged all of him nicely. his biceps showing he could hold up a bus, his pecs and abs showing… he’s a stone wall, and his ass and other parts show that his partner is very lucky.

you get jealous sometimes when you see videos of spider-man swinging around, anyone could see what a hot body and sexy personality he has. where as when peter’s around he’s covered in two layers or loose clothing, anything that could cover up his physic. you wish he’d show his muscles off as peter parker, telling people he’s brains and brawn.

but you love him either way.

at least if anyone oogles at your boyfriend they don’t get the opportunity to see the godly body beneath the flannels and sweaters. oh! and another thing you love about spider-man, the webs. and the suit. mask and suit.

you’ve told peter before, “if you ever want to role play one night, i’ve always dreamed of spider-man webbing me up and using me however he chooses.” peter just gulped and took that information nervously.

that was two months ago. you weren’t expecting anything right away, it’s not like your sex lives were bad to begin with. peter’s got good stamina, able to go a couple rounds when you’re tired after the second go. it’s just that he’s been busier with patrol and work, you as well, just not piled high like peter always does. you just miss those long nights of kissing and touching, moaning into each other's mouths or skin. peter’s hands rising goosebumps in their trail, your fingers curled into his growing hair to give firm tugs as he pleasures you with his fingers or tongue.

so when peter climbed through your shared bedroom window at midnight you didn’t think he would want to do any fooling around. you’d just check for any harsh injuries, he’d shower and then you’d both fall asleep in each other’s hold.

but not tonight.

tonight, peter climbed through the window like usual, a few cuts to his suit but no broken skin or bones. he flipped the bottom of his mask up so it would sit on his nose bridge, tip of his nose to his chin were the only visible parts of skin.

you kept a hood gaze on his slow steps, seeing how he licked his lips. he stood at the foot of the bed, hands on his hips. your legs shifted under the blankets and your eyes kept wandering.

“i heard from a little birdie that you’ve been in need of spider-man’s help. and what kind of hero would i be if i didn’t come to the rescue?”

he rounded the corner of the bed, his right hand gliding just beside the outline of your legs. “what seems to be the problem, miss?”

you took a swallow, knowing your fantasy was gonna come true. “i- i can’t make myself cum. my fingers aren’t enough.” giving your best doe eyes, knowing they always work on peter.

he hummed, “well, i don’t mean to brag, but i’ve been told i know the best solution to that problem. got a technique named after me.”

that made you break character for a second, “oh yeah?” a slight giggle in your voice. “what’s this technique called?”

his pink lips quirked to a smirk, “spider tingle. mostly involves tongue.” your breathing picked up.

“could- could you do that? or- or however you want, can take me in any position. i just want to cum.”

“don’t worry, baby. i’ll take good care of you. now i’m gonna need you to put your wrist against the headboard.” your heart picked up.

slowly you pushed your arms up and then, “let’s take off this shirt first. gonna be difficult in a minute.”

spider-man held the hem of your sleep shirt and waited for a nod from you before pulling it over your head and off your body. waist up completely exposed for him. “you’re a gorgeous girl.” his gloves hands roaming over your doughy skin, a shaky gasp slips free.

he pushed your arms into a comfortable position before spraying a layer of web fluid to glue your wrist flat. “if you get uncomfortable just tell me and i’ll rip them off.” and you could only nod with an open mouth.

“don’t be afraid to be vocal. it encourages me.”

he pressed his lips into a kiss upon your left cheek then your right. he pulled back and you could see his act breaking for a second, “this okay? feel safe?”

you nodded but he insisted, “words, pretty. i need the words.” “yes. i’m safe.” he smiled happily, “good.” and he leaned in so he finally gave you a proper kiss.

it was sweet and slow, his top lip covering yours. the tip of his nose bumping into your cheek, a gloved hand caressing the empty side, his thumb swiping under your eye. you followed his leaving lips, chasing for more, struggling against your restraints. a quiet groan and whimper at not being able to reach for your boyfriend.

a teasing chuckle from his slick lips, his fingers held your jaw, “be a good girl and spread those legs for me.”

and your legs separated without any resistance, you could feel the wetness building on your panties. spider-man pressed sloppy, wet kisses from your collarbone to each breast before going down the valley. his hands were at your sides, sliding down your figure as his lips were walking the trail down south. your chest pushed forward and you moaned at the tingles he was causing, you kept forgetting you didn’t have access to your hands and it made you a bit angry.

“you're such a good girl for spider-man. do i get to keep you after this?” pressing a lingering kiss just above the band of your red and blue panties. a pair you bought so you could fluster peter, and they work magnificently.

you moaned, “i’m all yours, spider-man. i’ll be your little toy if you want.”

he kissed over the fabric and hummed, “i’m one lucky hero.” his slender fingers curled into the elastic band and started tugging down. you pushed your hips up to help and he slid the fabric slowly down your thighs, still leaving parted kisses on your body.

the underwear was off your body and thrown to the floor, completely bare for the clothed web-slinger. you didn’t realize how vulnerable it was be in this light, your legs shutting themselves. but spider-man gripped your knees and easily kept them from closing off for him.

“nothing to worry about, pretty girl. i’m gonna take real good care of you.”

he moved to lay on his stomach, throwing your legs over his shoulders and his head was now in front of your slick center. he gripped your outer thighs as he pressed some more quick kisses on your high inner thigh, just missing the place you desperately needed him.

“spidey, please. i- i- i need your mouth. please.” pleading for any relief from being pent up.

he kisses your mound, “only cause you said please,” and then his lips were wrapped on your pussy.

you sighed dreamily at the familiar caress, head thrown into the headboard with your chest arching into the air. breast bouncing with each quick breath followed by a deep inhale.

the low moans from peter’s mouth vibrate from your stomach to your heart. the nylon of his gloves, your version of silk on heated skin. the heels of your feet moving to dig into his shoulder blades, unconsciously trying to push him closer without your hands.

your lids are heavy with euphoria, trying to keep them open as you watch spider-man licking into you, bobbing his head and grinding his hips into the bedding.

“aww, poor- poor baby. looking a bit- a bit needy down there.” trying for a teasing tone, having to push through moans.

spider-man pressed a firm kiss to your clit making you gasp, “who wouldn’t be needy around a beautiful lady? especially one as delicious as you.” before dipping back to work.

this man knows how to get your heart racing with words alone.

you knew peter was skilled with his tongue, fast quips rolling into villains faces. oh, also easily making you cum and become a stimulated mess before him, but the spider-man suit is making him even better. your eyes are rolling to the ceiling or crossing in the middle to make your vision blur, mouth open in a silent gasp or biting into your bottom lip to subdue the louder moans so you don’t get a noise complaint. like last time.

you looked down again to see him lapping at your wetness, a lake in his scorching desert. his palms slid up your thighs to squeeze at your hips before resting them on your stomach. keeping you pressed firmly into the mattress, subduing your squirming.

his tongue tickled your clit, pulling a high pitched whine from your throat. you tried tugging against the webbing, you wanted it off so you could press spider-man closer, but you didn’t want him to stop for even a second.

“so- so close, ba- baby. so- uh! uh!” tingling as his tongue enters your hole. fucking in and out while his nose bumps into your clit, giving that extra stimulation. “yes, yes! keep- keep going.”

you squeezed tight around the muscle, his exhale ghosting over his spit and your slick mixing. how you wished you could rip your hands free, yank his mask off so you could sink your nails into peter’s messy curls and tug him.

spider-man started gaining speed, going faster, making that knot in your lower stomach building tighter and tighter. so close to snapping free from tension.

“please, spidey. peter, i’m- i’m almost there, baby.”

that only spurred him to kick into high gear, tongue flattening for every inch of you. lips kissing you intimately, sucking you sweet.

“pete- pete, i’m- i’m gonna…” trailing off as the knot tightens, rendering you speechless.

peter didn’t need to ask what you were gonna do, he just gave you a silent permission to cum as he continued his hero work.

a loud noise of ecstasy was ripped from you, thighs shutting around peter’s head as he worked you through it all. your chest was panting with a slight sweat to your breast.

“ah! ah! pete, too- too much.” foot tapping on his shoulder as your physical signal for him to lighten up. three more kitten licks, two kisses and a playful bite at your thighs that made you screech in delight.

peter finally tugged his bug-eyed mask off, letting you appreciate your pretty boyfriend with his lips pink all covered in shine. he crawled up your body, trailing over his phantom kisses from earlier.

he nipped at a spot on your neck at causes you to sigh dreamily, eyes fluttering shut and legs shuffling for something. “my hero.” sighing out the two words just as he licked over a spot where there is sure to be a purple hickey tomorrow morning.

his dazzling smile came into view, “all in a days work, sweetheart.” giving you a kiss while his hands ran over your arms and pulled away the loosening web fluid.

his lips moved from your mouth to your wrist, princess kissing them at the slight redness you gained at the friction. “doing okay?” he asked, peering at you through long brown lashes.

you nod, “yeah. doing great. now,” you pushed yourself into peter, wrapping your arms around his neck. shuffling your legs over his to straddle his thighs, you pushed his head into your neck so you could whisper into his ear, “how’d you like a reward? for helping me out, spidey.” pulling at his earlobe with your teeth.

peter shuttered and sighed, “i’d like nothing more.”

#peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x fem!reader #tasm peter parker #ps5 peter parker

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darlingmbappe · 1 year

Text

Family Man | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

Summary: Your husband is feeling a bit nervous about staying home alone with your daughter for the first time. When you ease his worries, he thanks you the best way he can, but then surprises you with a big request.

Warnings: SMUT! Oral (female receiving), romantic sex, breeding kink, Kylian being a simp kinda, cussing, not checked for spelling/grammar errors. Let me know if I missed anything! — English is not my first language —

“Charlotte is finally down.” Kylian sighed from the doorway of your bedroom, trudging over to his side of the bed.

You smiled up from your novel as you watched him crawl on top of the comforter, laying his head on your arm and cuddling at your side. “She’s a piece of work, that girl.” You chuckle.

Kylian breaks out a grin, thinking about his wonderful three year old baby girl. “Wonder who she got it from…”

“Ha!” You set your book down on your lap, tilting your head down to look at him. “You’re joking. Kylian, You’re the biggest piece of work there is.”

He chucked into your shoulder and flipped on his stomach to be face to face with you, heavy leg comfortably draped over your thigh. “But you love us both.”

“So much.” You leaned over and kiss him sweetly, setting aside the now bookmarked novel on your nightstand. “Don’t know how I put up with you, though.”

“Well, you’re gonna get a little break from us this week.” He spoke and glances over at your packed suitcase sitting by the door. You sensed the tinge of nervousness in his sentence and put a reassuring hand on the back of his head.

“I’ll only be gone a week, Ky.” You comfort, tracing the structure of his brow bones gently with your forefinger. He leans into your touch, humming softly before burying his head in your neck. Clearly somethings on his mind.

“I know. It’s just…” he turns, wrapping an insecure arm around your waist to hold you closer, “I’ve never been alone with her for that long. Not for a week straight.” You scratched his back softly, allowing him to melt into you more. “I mean, what if she gets bored and I run out of things to do? Or what if she doesn’t like the activities I have planned for us? What if she breaks a leg or something on my watch?”

“Baby…” you coo, grabbing his chin between your thumb and knuckle so he’s look up at you. His big brown eyes showed his apprehensiveness, almost begging for you not to leave in the morning. “You know you’re an amazing dad, right?” He nods sheepishly, but you understood where this insecurity came from.

When Charlotte was born, it was at the beginning of the season. He did his best to take as many days off as he could, wanting nothing more than to be with you and his newborn baby girl. Though his efforts were much appreciated, you were still left alone with her many times, sometimes for days on end. It’s was through no fault of his own and you knew that, always reassuring him that you understood his responsibilities as a major world renowned athlete. Of course you’d love for him to be there with both of you 24/7, but it’s not something you would ever hold against him.

He was deep in thought and you could practically hear him overthinking the next seven days, coming up with every worst-case-scenario possible. “I was nervous the first time I was alone with Char, too.” You said softly. “It’s scary, I get it. But, I know you two will have the best time. Whatever you have planned, she’ll love it because she’ll get to do it with you.”

His lips curled up, staring back in adoration. “You think?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Of course. She’s so excited to be with just you. When I told her, it actually kind of hurt how happy she was.”

This made Kylians whole face break out in a wrinkled smile. “Yeah?”

Of course he loved that, his competitive nature trumping his sense of humility. “Oh yeah.” You grin. “She’s dying for some alone time with daddy.”

“And you?”

You furrow your brows. “Me?”

“Mhm.” He shifts to hover over you lazily. “You need some alone time with daddy?” The smirk he gave you sent a rush through your body.

Your arms wrap around his neck as he puts his legs on either side of you, nudging your nose with his. God, this man just has a way about him. The way he looks at you consistently makes your stomach erupt in butterflies, even after all these years.

“Cheeky, cheeky boy.” You tusk, leaning up only slightly, teasing a kiss on his wanting lips. “What does daddy have to offer?”

“Whatever you want. I’m yours.” He touched his forehead to yours, you slowly lifted your chin to touch your lips to his.

Starting off gently, he breathed in deep through his nose, savoring this moment. Having a toddler, it’s hard to find time to be intimate when they’re always around. Always.

But, it kind of makes the sex way hotter… way more anticipated.

He pokes his tongue in and you opened up immediately, suddenly desperate for some action. He began moving his hips over the thick duvet you laid under, giving himself some relief, but you needed that layer gone. You began tugging at it desperately, Kylian got the hint. He sat up, tossing aside the blanket and stared down at your sleep attire, humming to himself and licking his lips.

“You’re so sexy.” He grumbled, now looking at you with nothing except love and lust. Your hardened nipples poked through your white scrunched up shirt, displaying your lower half for Kylians pleasure. The pink cotton panties you wore had a little rose engraved on the front, sending your husbands brain into a spiral as he started crawling down your body involuntarily. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

He made it down to where you needed him, a gentle touch on you thighs opening your legs. You didn’t need much coercion from him, knowing the usual rhythm of this sort of thing. Being with him for so long meant you knew each other patterns and needs.

“I get a goodbye gift?” You teased once he situated himself between your legs, big hands moving your knees upward toward your chest.

Instead of responding, he placed a meaningful kiss to your covered core, looking up at you, wanting to watch every reaction he persuaded out of you. He stiffened his tongue, poking at your clit methodically before biting the fabric and clipping his thumbs underneath the seams. Slowly, he slid them over your legs, his eyes glued to how your pussy reveled himself to him, already glistening.

“I already told you, bébé. I’ll give you whatever you want.” He mumbled in a trance, only looking up when you whined at his lack of movement. “You gotta tell me, bébé. What do you want?”

“Don’t be a dick.” You poked with a pouty giggle, jutting your needy hips toward his mouth. He splayed his hands over your middle, holding you down. “Just eat me out, Mbappé.”

“Always so bossy.” He jeered, but lined his mouth up anyways, purposely blowing out a sigh on your pulsing core before flattening his tongue on you. Your eyes rolled back, keeping your moan quiet with a hard lips bite as he continued to work his muscle, lapping up and down, focusing on the bundle of nerves at the peak.

“Always taste so sweet, bébé.” He praised, dragging his fingers down your hips, feeling the goosebumps he’s creating on your soft familiar skin. The feeling of his lips moving against your cunt made you grip the sheets until your knuckles turned white.

You looked down at your husband between your legs, eyes closed, seemingly hypnotized and focused solely on pleasuring you.

Without warning, he poked his tongue in and out of your needy hole, making you gasp at the sensation. “Shit, oh god.” You gasp. A quick hand made it’s way behind his head, pressing him further into you. He stuck it in as far as it would go out of his mouth, circling and wiggling around, feeling your pulsating walls. He moved a hand from your hip and dragged his forefinger agonizingly slowly on your clit.

“Let me show you how much I’ll miss you.” He muffled, the vibration of his voice making you moan out.

“Please.” You begged, watching him with hooded eyes. His finger dipped lower and lower, tapping on your sensitive nub to make you jolt. It made him laugh, obsessed with the sight of you squirming under his touch.

He teased his middle finger in before inserting two inside of you. Kylian was always one for foreplay, eager to make it the best experience for the both of you. That’s so hot.

You were a moaning mess, hot and bothered as he curled his fingers up, his mouth attached to your pussy like a man starved. His eyes were now wide open and gazing up at you, your chest heaving, your back arching, your quiet moans singing in his ears like a melody. It was all too much for him as he began humping the bed in desperation. Getting to see what he can turn you into could have made him cum on the spot, but he wanted to cum inside of you. He needed to cum inside of you.

You whimpered when he detached his mouth, wiping his glistening face with the back of his hand. “You’re fucking amazing, mon amour. I love you so much.”

You’d gone off the pill years ago before you got pregnant with Charlotte and hadn’t gone back, relying on condoms and quick reflexes. You’d talked about having more kids in the future, but not recently enough to prepare you for what your husband said next.

“Let me put another baby in you.”

Your breathing was heavy, but it stopped for a moment out of shock. The look on his face was completely serious as he crawled up on top of you, lifting your shirt enough to reveal your boobs, tweaking your nipples between his fingers.

You swallowed the noises threatening to spill out of you throat, staring into the eyes of the man you’ve adored for so many years — the eyes that were practically heart shaped whenever he caught even a glance at you.

“Let me get you pregnant.” He repeated and dipped his head in your neck, trailing a soft path of kisses upward until he reached your mouth, lingering there a little longer. He leaned into your ear, giving it the gentlest bite before whispering. “Remember how I couldn’t keep my hands off of you?” His hands roamed down to your stomach, caressing it like he used to do. “You looked so fucking hot with my baby inside of you.”

You couldnt help but smile, feeling your heart beat faster for him. “What about the mood swings?” He kissed behind your ear.

“Don’t mind them.” He kissed your jaw.

“My feet swell pretty bad.”

He kissed your cheek. “I give great foot rubs.”

“Cravings?”

“I’ll get you anything you want.” He placed the last kiss on the corner of your mouth, pulling back to stare into your eyes, wiping away any stray hairs that fell onto your face.

You sighed up at him. “You think we’re ready?”

He finally landed his kiss on your lips, breathing you in like you were a drug. “I know I am. So, what do you say, bébé?”

Kylian was the worlds best dad and even had three Father’s Day mugs to prove it. He was attentive and loving and caring and wanted nothing but the absolute best for his family. For your family.

“Let’s make a baby.” As soon as those words left your lips he kissed you deeply. You both smiled into the kiss, attempting to pucker but failing, eventually just giggling into each other, hugging tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”He hummed, standing up and shedding his joggers and boxers, revealing the main attraction.

God, the way you salivated at the sight of him was almost embarrassing. You’d worried about what marriage would do to your sex life, especially after having a baby, but Kylian always made you feel so sexy. He flirted with you constantly, found every possible way to make you squirm. You found that the longer your with him, the more things you discover about him that make you adore him more. Want him more.

You adjusted yourself as he slotted above you, your legs wrapped around his middle as you traced his collarbone. The shift from how the night started to now made your head spin. You couldn’t believe that you’d decided to start trying again out of the blue like this, but knew in your heart that you wanted this too.

He lined himself up, prodding you open slowly to let you adjust to his massive size.

“Oh, fuck Kylian.” You breathe, grabbing his face sweetly as your eyebrows knit together. He loved the faces you made when he was inside you — missionary being his favorite position.

He moved his hips until he was all the way in, waiting for your cue for him to continue. It didn’t take long, it never did. When you nodded at him, he began thrusting, his pace slow as if every movement was personal and meaningful. You loved the stretch he gave you, feeling every ridge, every curve.

This type of sex is Kylians favorite. Sure, he’ll take you roughly, spank you until he can see a mark. He loved the feeling of having his hand wrapped around your throat, or thrusting into you with such speed and force that it makes your legs wobble the next day. But something about the steady pace, the perfect rhythm, the eye contact, holding your hand, getting to kiss you like it would transfer the love he kept in his heart to yours... getting to take you in piece by piece was the most thrilling thing he’s found in his lifetime. Having the pleasure of holding your hand, listening to your whimpers and quiet “ah, ah”s was like a drug. He was undeniably addicted to you. Obsessed with every inch of your being. He couldn’t think of a more personal way to show the woman he loved how much he means to him. No amount of money could buy this type of intimacy.

“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbles, reaching down to intertwine your hands, in need of feeling more of you. “I can’t imagine my life without you.” Your heart was melting at his words, his dilated pupils absorbing every inch of your face. His rhythm was hypnotic. Your needs begged for him to go faster, harder, to take you roughly… but your heart outweighed those thoughts. Though slow, it was the most romantic sex you’ve had in a while. “Cant believe I got you. I can’t believe I get to love you forever.”

He spoke sweetly, his breath fanning your face with his words and pants. The knot in your stomach tightened, making you squeeze your legs around his middle. “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.” You whimpered, somehow forming coherent sentences through the intense pleasure. “I love you, Kylian.”

He slotted his face in your neck, breathing heavier than before, hoping your skin would muffle the sinful moan that erupted from his mouth. His thrusts kept the same speed, but faltered slightly. “God, bébé. I’m gonna cum.”

You hugged him tightly against you. “Me too.” The feeling of his pelvic bone continuously rubbing against your clit and the slight tug and push of his member inside of you was consuming your every sense. “Fuck, Kylian.”

You dig your teeth into the skin of his shoulder or else you’d have screamed in pleasure, waking up the innocent little toddler just a few rooms down. The knot popped, making your toes curl, the bliss of it all creating spots in your vision. You came hard as Kylians thrusts continued at a slightly faster pace.

He kissed your cheek, seeking his own release — it didn’t take long to find it upon feeling your walls quivering around him. “Ah, dieu.” He moaned. “I’m cumming.” He panted, hissing and squeezing your hand as he looked into your hooded eyes. He bit his lip hard to keep quiet, breathing harshly through his flared nostrils.

He came down, his arms giving way as he laid on top of you to catch his breath. He hugged you so close, kissing your lips sweetly. He lifted himself to stop crushing you, matching your smile before he began to slowly thrust again.

“Shit, Ky!” You whisper yell, gasping at the overstimulation.

He hissed but continued his movements. “Gotta make sure it sticks, bébé.”

After three more thrusts, he stops and pulls out of you gently, laying his exhausted body next to you. He dipped his hand down and held yours, bringing it to his face to kiss it and kept it held at his lips. He looked at you as if you were a queen, a goddess.

“You think Char will be happy if we give her a baby brother or sister?” You wonder, laying on your back because you read that staying there for fifteen minutes after sex heightens your chances of getting pregnant.

“I don’t know… eventually. I think she loves being spoiled.” He grinned. It was true, Charlotte squealed every-time Kylian got home with something for her. Whether it was cupcake or a a tiny Tiffany necklace, she loved getting gifts.

“And who’s fault is that?”

Kylian made a guilty whatever face. His favorite thing in the world was getting to spoil his petite princesse.

Kylian places your hand on his chest, just above his heart. The stare he gave you was weakening, dibilitating, so full of raw emotion. You felt it thumping under your palm, knowing he meant that his heart was in your hands. You leaned over and snuggled into his side, kissing his cheek and keeping your hand on his heart. His heart rate picked up instantly, earning an earth shattering, lovey dovey grin from you.

Whatever the future holds, the family you’ve created with Kylian stands on strong pillars of love and loyalty. Having someone who you can trust blindly is the key to a life full of wonderful moments, and Kylian takes on that role with pride — absolutely devoted to creating the happiest life for his two princesses. You and Charlotte really are the luckiest girls alive… and with the possible addition of another family member, you might just get even luckier.

A/N: wrote this between classes today to give y’all a little something because my school is nearing midterms so I gotta crack down with studying. Thanks for reading! Also I didn’t spell check or grammar check this very thoroughly so I apologize for any mistakes <3

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dumplingsfordays · 7 months

Text

tutoring sessions

Dan Heng x fem!reader

genre - smut

summary - your tutor (and friend) gets a little hot under the collar after you tease him, and things escalate a little (by a little I mean a lot).

cw!: nsfw (sexual themes), friends to (implied) partners, oral (dan heng receiving), praise, virgin!reader, virgin!dan heng, all characters 18+, kinda subby dan heng (he's also very vocal hehe), voyeurism kinda, reader is referred to as 'good/pretty girl' but that's really it for gendered language, implied that dan heng's still v thirsty for reader once the fic ends 👀

note - this is my first smut fic so I'm sorry if this is badly written 😭😭 dan heng might be a little ooc but I'll just roll w it... I was working on a fluff version of this but I accidentally posted the draft and I couldn't un-post it so I'm crying rn it was so long too-

and as always, thank you for reading :)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

"And today's topic..." the raven-haired man flips to a page in the calculus textbook that he's holding, "is mathematical induction."

"That sounds super hard!" you sigh playfully. "Can we please do something else?"

"Sum and product identities?"

"No!"

"How about-" he flips further, "-sigma notation?"

"Also sounds super hard."

"But it isn't."

"You say that everytime!"

"We do have to start somewhere, though," he remarks with a small smile.

For a split second, you remember where this whole thing actually started. Ah yes, your room, six months ago... when your parents hired him and you came downstairs to find a complete stranger your age sitting at the dinner table. You remember being confused about what classes you shared with him - he did seem familiar in a way, so you just assumed that you had some shared classes. Back then, he was very quiet, very low-profile, and look at him now! Talkative, compassionate, cheeky (only sometimes), kind... if you really excelled in English class, then you might've called him a bloomed flower or something else of the sort. He looks so different now, though - you don't know if it's the chill of the night air that's trickling through the open window by your desk, or the soft, mellow glow of the fairy lights strung up around your room, or if it's just your stupidly big crush on him... it's probably the latter, now that you think about it.

"Well, I don't want to start anything." You lean back in your chair and close your eyes, relishing in the way that you can practically feel his mock-disappointed gaze on you.

"I guess we'll end the sessions here then," he sighs. You weren't sure if he was kidding or not - something about his tone hinted that he wasn't, so, not really thinking it through, you spring back forward to the table and cup your face in your hands with your elbows on your desk. You look up at him in desperation.

"There's no need to do that," you pout, "I just don't feel like doing anything, you know?"

"Come on, let's just finish at least one lesson today," Dan Heng urges, leaning in a little as he does. He smiles encouragingly and pats your back, but you're still not planning on giving in to the agony of work.

"Why do we have to do that, though?" you whine, now folding your arms on your desk and laying your head down on them. It's now his turn to lean back in his chair.

"Okay, so what are you lacking in right now?" he asks, running a hand through his hair to get some wild strands out of his eyes. "Why don't you want to do anything today?" You hate yourself for the fact that you felt your face redden at his action.

"Lack motivation, probably," you bury your face in your arms now, trying to hide the prominent blush on your cheeks.

You hear him hum - a low, pleasant sound. "Motivation..."

As you hear seconds tick by on the clock across the room, your heartbeat calms down and just as you're sure that the redness covering your face and the tips of your ears has faded-

"Just be a good girl and if we get through at least one topic tonight, you'll get a reward. Is that good enough motivation for you?"

You tremble at his voice. It's persuasive and smooth and deep and makes something deep inside of your stomach flutter - was he messing with you? Did he know about you having a crush on him and was teasing you?

You tilt your head to look at him and instantly regret it. He's leaning in so much that you can feel small breaths of air escaping him as he breathes, his eyes trained on yours.

Then he leans back again and smiles, still keeping eye contact, while you, wide-eyed, bewildered, gawk at him.

"Just kidding." The audacity to say that! After you thought that he was flirting and actually took it seriously! Oh, you just had to get revenge.

"No, no, I'll do it," you raise your brows in defiance, a cheeky smile dancing on your lips. "I'll be a good girl."

This does him in. Now he's the blubbering fool, mouth opening and closing like a fish's, trying to process what you said. The fact that you could make Dan Heng, the least expressive person you've ever met, turn into a tomato from just a simple sentence was extremely satisfying.

"You don't have to," he stammers. In a few quick movements he's back at the table, arms folded in his lap. You notice that they're not relaxed, no, his hands are balled up into white-knuckled fists - should you really keep on teasing?

Immediately, you decide that yes, you should.

"But I want to."

For a split second you think that you heard something, maybe a faint meow from a stray cat or a little creak of the walls, but then you realize that the sound came from a much closer origin. Dan Heng, at this point, is tense all over - you can see his jaw clench and his fists growing tighter, nails probably leaving small white crescents in his skin. He's doubled over, too, like he has a stomachache. At this, you immediately feel regret, and all the seductiveness and sass from your voice vanishes in an instant, replaced with concern.

"You okay?"

"Yes," he says, still avoiding eye contact, "Yes, I'm good- can I just go to the bathroom for a sec?"

"Are you..?" You trail off, scared to finish your sentence at the possible implications. He swallows thickly and stands up, trying his best to cover his problem with his shirt, and just as he's about to exit your room-

"You can stay, if you want to..."

He slowly turns his head around, totally stunned at your words.

"I mean," you babble nervously, "my parents are still home, and there's a chance that they'll see your- um, friend, and..."

Before you can internally slap yourself for letting your mouth run like a river, he swivels around fully and his hand leaves the doorknob.

"You're sure?" he whispers.

"Only if you are," you reply, looking directly into his eyes, and Dan Heng awkwardly trudges back over to sit beside you on your bed, a blush dusting his face.

"I don't really know how to start," he admits, "I've never really... you know."

"Me neither," you reply with a nervous chuckle, trying to make light of the situation. "I mean, if you're up to it, I guess we can start with, um, kissing, or something..."

As if on cue, he leans towards you, cupping your cheek in his hand, and your eyes close as your lips touch.

It's your first kiss, too, so you don't really have anything to go off of, but this kiss makes your knees weak and you press your hands against his broad chest, seeking stability. He wraps his other hand around your waist at this action and as the kiss deepens, his lips travel down your jaw and to your neck, eventually coming to rest on your collarbone, where he plants another kiss and leans further into your touch.

You, meanwhile, reach for the tent in his sweatpants and start to rub it though the fabric, eliciting a whine from the larger man. He bucks up into your palm, desperate for more friction, and raises his lips to the shell of your ear, whimpering and quietly gasping in overwhelming pleasure. His large hands finally settle on your waist and his fingers dig into your skin as you continue your ministrations and smile into his shoulder.

"Please," he begs softly, "need to feel you 'round me."

He didn't need to tell you twice as you immediately get the hint and drop down to your knees in front of him. You hook a finger over the band of his sweatpants, tugging at it while looking up at Dan Heng with pleading, wide eyes.

He mutters an expletive when he lifts his hips up, cheeks reddening every second that passes, and as the clothes pool around his ankles, you can see the outline of his thick cock through the material of his boxers.

You decide to tease him (again, and you will never get tired of it because his reactions are way too cute to stop) and glide your fingers over the bulge, at which he squirms, but doesn't dare to take his eyes off of yours.

His hips rise again, and another article of clothing is shed, but this time his lower half is completely naked, so you finally get to see what he's been packing in there.

It's gorgeous compared to the ones that you've seen online. It's standing at attention, slightly twitching whenever your hot breath meets the tip. Dan Heng sees your eyes widen and swallows nervously as you subconsciously lick your lips.

"Is it not...?" he trails off, eyebrows furrowed.

You shake your head, still mesmerized. "No, no, it's very pretty."

He whines when you lean closer to it, eventually bringing it to rest against your cheek. You look up at the man as your hand wraps around its base and you hum at how warm it is.

"You ready?" you ask. You're rubbing your thighs together at this point - his half-lidded eyes, red, swollen lips parted in a sigh, and cheeks dusted with pink elicit a reaction from you like no erotic content ever could.

"Yes- yes, (y/n), please, need you so much, please," he gasps desperately, hands reaching to his sides and grabbing the blanket underneath him. You fulfill his request with a light kiss to the red tip of his now-leaking cock (at which a whimper escapes his lips and he almost bucks up) and take it into your mouth.

His long fingers weave through your hair at the back of your head in an attempt to feel more of you - you then moan, sending delicious vibrations to his cock which throbs in appreciation.

"You're s'warm," Dan Heng hisses through his teeth above you, tears about to fall from his watery eyes, "so, so tight, fuck! Such a good girl f'me, yeah-"

You take more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as his tip hits the back of your throat. Your gag reflex activates and your throat constricts - the raven-haired man above you nearly chokes at the feeling while you drag your lips off of his cock.

"'M sorry," you whisper as you slowly stroke it, feeling it pulse in your soft hands.

"Don't be, that was - ah - felt so good," he pants. "You okay, though?"

"Yeah, 'm all right... can we continue, though?"

"Please."

You stop stroking it and attempt to fit it all in once more, sharp gasps coming from the man above you. You almost reach the base, but his tip prods against the back of your throat so you have no choice but to suck it, bobbing your head up and down on his cock. Rogue specks of your saliva land on it just to pool on your lips as they hungrily come back down his shaft.

He's arching his back from the pleasure, applying a little pressure to your head to guide it in a steady rhythm. His hips start bucking up faster and faster as he gets close to his orgasm - he's shaking his head, screwing shut his eyes as deep, throaty groans are ripped from his chest.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck... doin' so well, pretty girl - ah! - makin' me feel s'good, yeah? 'M gonna cum, baby, just keep - fuck - suckin' me off like that like a good girl, please, fuck, please-"

Eventually he can't take it anymore. His hips are now wildly thrusting up into your mouth, lower abs flexing at the movements, he's panting, drooling, and crying all at the same time - it's so overwhelming and it feels so amazing that he cums with a single, broken moan.

Dan Heng's chest is heaving up and down as he comes down from his high, soothing hand petting your head gently. You attempt to stand, but fail as you topple back onto the ground, laughing.

"Cock so good you can't stand back up?" he teases jokingly, and lends you his hand so he can pull you back up onto the bed.

"Hah, you wish," you smirk back and giggle again. "So, what are we then? Are we still friends, or have we been demoted to student and tutor again?"

His eyes narrow and cloud with lust as an idea pops into his head - you swallow nervously when you meet his darkened gaze. He grabs your wrist and pushes you back, his other hand now greedily kneading your thigh.

"We'll see after I repay you."

#dan heng #dan heng hsr #hsr x you #hsr fanfic #honkai #honkai star rail #dan heng smut #hsr smut #star rail smut #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #hsr #i really only started to simp for him once his il form came out 🫣#like pls marry me id do anything

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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months

Text

how are you even alive?

for @steddielovemonth prompt ‘love is watching them do stupid things’

rated t | 1,351 words | cw: minor injury, suggestive language | tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, the hurt is Steve being stubborn, the comfort is Eddie loving him even though he should accept help

♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️❤️♥️

Twice a year, Steve deep cleaned the house.

Eddie had never witnessed anything like it before.

It’s not that he and Wayne were slobs, but they just did what was necessary, never spending an entire week going over a checklist a mile long to cover every inch of their house.

Steve did.

He said that when he was young, his parents hired people to do it and he was always fascinated with the way the house smelled so fresh for weeks after. He loved watching something go from dusty to shiny, loved seeing the way the windows glistened without any fingerprints from him.

And as he got older, his parents stopped hiring people and just expected it to get done, so he did. And he loved it.

Eddie couldn’t understand it, but he did love the way Steve’s eyes lit up when they got to his cleaning weeks in March and September. He’d plan it all out on a notepad by room, made a list of cleaning supplies he needed, and put stars next to things Eddie would have to help him with.

There were few stars, thankfully.

Eddie didn’t really mind helping. It was his home, too, and any time spent with Steve was time well spent. But the bleach sometimes bothered his sinuses and he’d end up coughing and sneezing for two days after.

He checked the lists now and noticed his name was only on three things:

Flip mattresses

Gutter cleaning (hold ladder and refill pressure washer)

Bookshelves (remove all books, dust, put books back)

He fist pumped once at the realization that he got off easy this time, much easier than he’d been expecting.

Actually, he almost always was enlisted to help with holding the ladder when Steve dusted the-

A bang interrupted his thoughts and he ran without even thinking what it could be.

He walked into the kitchen to see Steve on their ladder, some kind of homemade cleaning solution in a spray bottle in one hand and a washcloth in the other.

“What was that noise?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Steve reach as far as he could without falling off the ladder. He’d probably land on his feet from that height and be fine, but it wouldn’t exactly feel great.

“Dropped the other bottle I had hanging on my belt. It’s fine, just furniture polish. I can get it when I’m done dusting,” Steve was busy, barely even glanced back at Eddie as he answered.

“Why didn’t you tell me you needed a supervisor?” Eddie found the furniture polish and set it on the counter, watching as Steve furiously rubbed at the top of the cabinets.

“I don’t. But gutter cleaning is tomorrow and I’ll need one then.”

“Steve…”

“Don’t Steve me. I’m fine! I’m already halfway done.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and stepped away, not wanting to argue with Steve when he was at his happiest.

“Can you put the radio on please, baby? I forgot to before I climbed up here.”

Eddie went over to the radio on the kitchen table and turned it on, surprised to find it tuned to the rock station instead of the hits station.

“Well color me shocked! Were you listening to,” he gasped and held his chest. “Rock?”

“Yes, I was. But if you’re gonna make a big deal about it then change it to the hits,” Steves eye roll was almost audible.

“No, no. Let’s listen to Def Leppard, sweetheart. It’s been my dream for one whole minute to check out your ass while listening to Pour Some Sugar On Me.”

Steve snorted, but continued his work.

Eddie continued watching.

And then Steve wobbled a little. He caught himself, but Eddie stood up straighter.

He wobbles more and Eddie started to move towards the ladder to hold it steady.

But it was too late.

Steve was already falling.

He landed on his ass with a yelp and a groan, the washcloth and bottle flying across the floor.

“Shit, Stevie, you okay?” Eddie crouched down next to him, hands cupping his cheeks as he looked him over.

“Yeah. Just twisted my ankle a little when I tried to catch myself,” Steve gestured down at his ankle. “Might need to ice it before I clean more.”

“Maybe you should rest so it doesn’t swell.” Eddie rolled the sweatpants he was wearing up and saw the way it was already swelling. “Okay, you have no choice but to rest since it’s swelling.”

“Fuck me.”

“I can do that after we ice it,” Eddie said as he gently moved his ankle left and right to see if it was broken.

Steve snorted. “Of course this would happen the first day of my spring cleaning.”

“Maybe if you’d let me supervise earlier…”

“I never lose my balance on the ladder! I thought I’d be fine.”

“Steve, you remember how last year when you were cleaning the pool you insisted the water wouldn’t overfill because of the filters?” Eddie smirked. “And then 6 hours later we were trying to rescue your pool chairs from floating away?”

“That isn’t the same!”

“And then when we first moved in and you insisted you could paint the ceiling yourself and you insisted on handpainting instead of a roller because it wouldn't be even to you and then you dripped paint everywhere and we had to get new carpet? Remember how you ended up breaking your finger because you insisted on rolling the carpet yourself?"

"Okay, that was just bad luck."

"And when you put out the Christmas decorations last year while I was helping Wayne with his truck and I came home to you stuck on the roof?"

"Listen, I am almost 100% sure one of the neighbor kids knocked the ladder over. There was no other way!"

Eddie kissed Steve's forehead. "I'm not sure how you're even alive. You're asking for an accident to happen."

"Weren't you supposed to be getting me ice?" Steve pouted.

Eddie leaned in and nipped at his bottom lip. "You want help getting to the couch first?"

"Nope. It's cleaning week. 20 minutes with an ice pack and then I'm back to dusting."

Eddie shook his head. "You're ridiculous. We'll ice it for 20 and then you're gonna rest for at least an hour so we know if we need to wrap it and keep weight off of it."

"I'm fine, Eds."

"Humor me, sweetheart."

It's a damn good thing Steve did because an hour and a half later, they were on their way to the emergency room for x-rays.

As the doctor told them both that Steve seemed to have fractured a small bone in his ankle, Eddie did his best not to look too smug.

"It won't require a cast or boot, but I do recommend ice every couple of hours and staying off of it as much as possible for the next week or so. If anything starts to hurt worse, come back for a boot."

"Thanks, doc." Eddie waited until the doctor left the room to turn to Steve. "How about next time you want to dust above the fridge and the top of the cabinets, you let me be there to catch you?"

"Yeah, yeah. Fine."

Eddie kissed his lips softly, barely brushed them just in case someone decided to walk in again. "You want me to stop on the way home to get some more pain meds?"

"Please."

"You hurtin'?"

"A little."

"You want me to take your mind off it?" Eddie wiggled his brows suggestively. "I can keep your ankle elevated, even."

"We'll see when we get home. But you know what?"

"What?"

"Someone has to do the cleaning, baby. Since I can't, looks like you've got a checklist to get to."

"Or we could just put off the cleaning until your ankle heals."

Steve shook his head. "No, I think you can handle it. I'll supervise."

"You're lucky you're so pretty," Eddie groaned.

"Don't forget I'm also very good at sucking your-"

"Yeah, yeah. Okay. Let's go before you get us discriminated against."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is watching them do stupid things #established relationship #cw: minor injury

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joelsgreys · 1 year

Note

We love a writing prompt challenge - I'd love to see what you do with post!outbreak Joel and ❛ what if i hurt you? ❜

smut prompt challenge

Thank you so much for sending this one in to me my darling! <3 I decided to be a little adventurous with this one, I hope you like it. Also, it turned out to be a longer than I meant to, it was supposed to just be a blurb/short drabble and it turned into a 3k oneshot. Whoopsie. I am not at the point where I can write smut with no plot, I have to have at least a teensy bit of plot lmao.

pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

warnings/tags: 18+ only, minors dni. explicit. post outbreak, set in Jackson. established relationship. jealous/possessive/slightly intoxicated Joel. reader is just a lil bit toxic too. rough sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, bit of spanking, praise and pet names. very lightly implied age gap (reader is referred to as kid by an older side character but she’s in her mid to late 20s, Joel is canon age, mid 50’s; purely self indulgent with the age thing tbh) okay, I think I got it all.

word count: 3k

“Alright kid, I’m heading out for the night,” Seth announced, flipping off all of the lights inside of The Tipsy Bison. He made sure to leave one last dim yellow light on for you so that you could finish cleaning up around the bar. He tossed you a set of keys to the building from where he stood near the front door. As he shrugged into his blue denim jacket, he asked you one last time, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay locking up the place all on your own at this hour?”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. You walked over towards him, twirling the set of keys between your fingers. “Oh please. What could possibly happen to me in a secured, gated community where everybody knows everybody, Seth?” You questioned him, shaking your head slightly. “And besides, it’s not like we’ve got a register full of cash just waiting to be robbed. It’s the end of the world, so I think I’ll be just fine closing up shop.”

“Well, you got me there,” he sniffed. “I suppose I don’t have anything to worry about.” He paused, lowering his voice as he added, “And much less when you have your very own guard dog sitting over there and keeping his watchful eye on you.”

You glanced over your shoulder at Joel. He was sitting at the opposite end of the long bar nursing what had to be his third or fourth glass of barrel aged bourbon; even after all the shit you two had been through together over the last several months while making the dangerous and violent trek across the country, Joel had never, not once, behaved like this with you. He had never been this ridiculously overprotective of you, not until you’d begun working as one of the evening bartenders at The Tipsy Bison. He wasn’t all too fond of your new role in Jackson, and he’d made it abundantly clear by dropping in late at night to make sure the rowdier male patrons who would frequent the bar after evening patrol were behaving, keeping their hands to themselves—and off of his girl.

You turned back to Seth, flashing him a sheepish, apologetic smile. “Look, I know he can be kind of rough around the edges sometimes. But he’s not all that bad, you know?”

“Kind of rough around the edges? One look from Miller can send anyone running for their lives in the other fucking direction,” he remarked with an amused snort as he pushed the door open. “Be sure to turn off that last light before you leave, kid. Oh, and don’t forget that I’m going need you here tomorrow at three for the opening shift, alright?”

“Got it. See you tomorrow,” You said, giving him a little wave as he left. You pulled the door closed and locked it behind him, giving it a gentle tug to make sure it was secure. Shoving the set of keys into the back pocket of your light blue denim cut off shorts, you made your way back across the quiet, empty bar and over towards Joel. You let out a soft sigh, lightly draping an arm around his shoulders. “Joel, please. It’s almost one o’ clock in the morning. I still have quite a bit to do around here before I can leave,” You stated. You reached up, affectionately running your fingers through his graying, dark brown curls. “You have patrol duty in a few hours. Go home and get some sleep. I’ll be fine on my own.”

He scoffed. “Ain’t no way in fuckin’ hell I’d let you walk home alone at this hour.”

You sighed again, withdrawing your hand from his hair as you stepped back.

Joel turned on the bar stool he’d been perched on for most of the night, his dark brown eyes taking the sight of you in; they glazed over your fitted, tight black tee shirt with a neckline that scooped way too low and exposed too much skin for his liking. His lips pressed together into a thin, tight line as his gaze wandered down further, noticing how the frayed hem of your cut offs fell a couple of inches above the middle of your thighs. “You really gotta fuckin’ wear that outfit every night?”

You glanced down at yourself, frowning. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”

“I just don’t fuckin’ like it,” he muttered gruffly, his fingers holding onto his glass of whiskey in a near death grip. “You’re showin’ off way too goddamn much. Every fucker you served tonight got more than a fuckin’ eyeful. I probably watched ‘bout a dozen idiots stare at your tits and openly flirt with you right in front of me, you know that?”

“There’s a reason why this is the uniform I have to wear, Joel,” You teased with a giggle, hoping to ease the tension that was practically radiating off of the man.

“You fuckin’ enjoyin’ this?” He asked bitterly as he glared at you. He drained the rest of his drink and slammed the empty glass down onto the counter with a little more force than what was necessary. His jealousy was seeping out of him, and you’d be a damned dirty liar if you said you didn’t find it so incredibly hot.

“Mm, just a little bit,” You replied with another tiny giggle. You leaned up against the bar and crossed your arms over your chest, your gaze meeting his; you noticed the way the seething anger flashed in his dark eyes. His raw, raging emotions were only exacerbated by the amount of bourbon he’d had to drink that night. “Oh lighten up, Joel! I’m only kidding and you know that. Listen, the outfit and the flirting, it’s just part of my job as a bartender. It’s something that all the girls around here have to do. I’m just eye candy for the lonely and horny patrolmen who have nothing better to do with their free time. Besides, Seth makes it very clear to all the fucking guys around here that they can look but they can’t touch—”

“I don’t give a fuck!” Joel snarled, suddenly rising to his feet. “I don’t give a fuck if they don’t touch you, alright? I don’t want those bastards lookin’ at you, hell I don’t even want any of them so much as fuckin’ breathin’ in your direction!” He drew closer towards you, his voice going so dangerously low it sent a little chill right up the length of your spine. “You’re mine, you fuckin’ understand me? You are mine.”

Your playful smile faded slightly.

His possessiveness should have bothered you. It should have angered you, even. You were a human being, not his piece of property. But as you drank in the sight of him, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides, the way his nostrils flared, and not to mention that all too familiar murderous look in his eye, you couldn’t help the wanting heat that flooded your lower belly.

“Then take me,” You murmured, your voice soft.

Joel sobered up ever so slightly. “What?”

“I didn’t stutter, Joel. I said, take me.”

Joel stared at you, mouth agape. “You’ve lost your damn mind. We’re in a fuckin’ bar—”

“A dimly lit, locked bar with no one else around,” You smirked, pulling your top down to expose the black lace bra you wore underneath. “You say I’m yours, so show me. Right here, right now.”

Joel’s cock twitched behind his zipper, his mouth going dry when he caught a glimpse of the way the soft, delicate lace hugged the delicious curve of your breasts. He opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him as he watched you bite down on your bottom lip and tilt your head up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently—you knew how to play him just like a fucking fiddle.

“Baby, no. Not here.”

You pouted playfully. “Don’t you want me?”

“Not like this,” he rasped, although the continued straining against the dark blue denim of his jeans stated otherwise. “I’m drunk, I’m pissed off—I just don’t trust myself with you right now.”

You smiled sweetly at him and stepped forward to shrink the gap of distance between your bodies.

You slid your hands underneath his brown jacket and pushed it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. You placed a hand on his chest, right over his heartbeat as your eyes met his. “I trust you.”

He rigidly shook his head. “What if I hurt you?”

“I trust you,” You reassured him. “Please, Joel. I just need you to fuck me, right here, right now. I need you to show me that I’m all yours. Yours and only—”

Joel didn’t even bother to let you finish.

He reached out for you and pulled your body flush against his, his mouth crashing violently against yours; his tongue darted through your parted lips, dominating your own in a way that made you melt into a submissive little puddle right in his large hands. He wasted no time, moving his lips down to your neck where he started nipping and biting at your delicate flesh with his teeth—hard enough that your silky skin would be covered in discolored marks tomorrow. But any worries about him being too rough had gone out the window. He wanted to mark his territory. He wanted every motherfucker in Jackson to know you belonged to him.

“Joel,” You moaned out his name and clutched fistfuls of his dark green flannel shirt.

He said nothing, allowing his mouth to continue ravaging you as his hands started ridding you of your clothes; he broke contact for as second, just long enough to pull your shirt over your head. You aided him and reached around yourself to unhook your bra, carelessly tossing it somewhere behind the bar. Your shorts and matching lace underwear came off next, along with your tan brown cowboy boots.

Normally, Joel would take his time. He’d kiss and worship his way across every inch of your entire body, but not tonight—no, tonight he was going to take you quickly, roughly. Between all the alcohol and his pent up frustrations, being gentle was the very last thing on his mind.

“C’mere.” Joel yanked you over towards a small, square wooden table just a few feet away from the bar, the same damn table where patrons would enjoy their after work duty drinks. He gripped the back of your neck and shoved you down, bending you right over the table; you let out a little gasp as your warm, naked body hit the cold, laminated wood. His rough, calloused hands glided their way down your smooth back and he took a single step backwards to admire the view. “Open up for me, sweetheart. Let me see you—all of you.”

You glanced over your shoulder at him with lustful, hooded eyes. Biting your lower lip, you did as you were told and spread your legs, your entire body erupting in goosebumps as the chilly air coming from the vents of the building hit your throbbing center.

Joel groaned, noticing the way your inner thighs were slick, coated with your own arousal. “Look at you, my pretty girl. Already soakin’ wet for me and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Giggling, you turned away from him and pushed your feet apart even wider. You then opened your mouth to speak, but instead let out a loud yelp when you felt him deliver a swift but harsh strike to your ass with the palm of his hand.

He’d never fucking done that before.

Joel began kneading at the spot he’d just struck you with his fingers so aggressively that you were certain you’d find bruises there in the morning.

The thought alone made you drip onto the floor.

“Joel—” You lifted yourself slightly off of the table.

“Stay down,” he commanded, pushing you back down.

You nodded and pressed your cheek flat against the table, your wet, aching walls clenching in pure anticipation as you heard his belt buckle clinking followed by the sweet sound of his zipper coming undone. Seconds later, the tip of his rock hard length pressed against your drenched slit.

You spread your legs even wider, prompting Joel to chuckle.

“You want me bad, don’t you my little darlin’?” he nearly taunted you. “Hm? You want me inside that pretty little pussy?”

“God yes I do—please fuck me,” You pleaded him. “Please, Joel. Please.”

He hummed. “Since you’re bein’ an awfully good girl and askin’ so politely…”

Joel didn’t even finish his sentence. There was a momentary pause and before you could ask him what the hell he was waiting for, he slammed into you, sheathing himself in your tight heat.

No warning. No warmup.

No time for you to think about anything except for the feeling of his thick, hard cock filling you up and stretching you completely.

You gasped out as all the air left your lungs. “Joel!”

Gripping your shoulders, he slid himself out of you entirely before delivering another powerful blow, one that had you seeing fucking stars. He didn’t give your body any time to adjust to him as he began to thrust, picking up a wild pace that you felt would split you in half if he didn’t ease up.

He’d fucked you plenty of times before—but never like this.

Senseless.

You gripped the edges of the table, gasping for a breath—you tried to cry out, but when you opened your mouth, all that came out were quick, pathetic little pants, desperate for air.

It hurt.

But the kind of hurt that felt so fucking good that you wanted more and more of it.

“You look so goddamn pretty, takin’ my cock like that,” Joel grunted out. His hands had abandoned your shoulders in favor of your hips, his fingers bruising the soft flesh there. “What a fuckin’ good girl you are for me, baby. Such a good girl—”

Planting your shaky hands on the table top, you pushed yourself up.

Joel’s hands left your hips. He slid an arm around your shoulders, pulling your naked back against his broad, clothed chest where he held you firmly in place as he continued to fuck you into oblivion with his barbaric, almost animalistic thrusts.

“Who do you belong to?” he whispered into your ear, his other hand resting on your stomach. “Tell me, darlin’. Who do you belong to?”

“You,” You somehow managed to choke out a reply between gasps. “I belong to you, Joel.”

“Yeah? You’re mine? All fuckin’ mine?”

You could only nod your head in response.

Joel’s arm around you tightened. “Say it,” he demanded. “I need you to say it.”

“I’m yours, all fucking yours!”

His hand moved from your stomach and dove between your thighs, two of his fingers finding your clit as swollen and sensitive as it had ever been. His digits circled the bundle of nerves, causing your legs to tremble as you felt the beginning of an orgasm coiling tight in your lower belly.

“Oh fuck,” You breathed out in a moan. “Joel, I’m gonna—”

“Come for me baby,” he encouraged you huskily, his breath hot against your ear. “I want you to come all over my cock like the good girl you are.”

Finally, you managed to find your cries inside of you; they tore themselves from your throat where they had been lodged, echoing throughout the entire, empty bar as you came undone, your walls clenching tightly around him.

“Fuck baby,” Joel released a deep, guttural groan and shoved you back over the table, pinning you down on it with both his hands as he spilled inside of you.

He leaned over you, his body hovering over yours as the two of you took a minute to catch your breath. He gave one final gentle thrust, groaning again when he felt the way you fluttered around him.

“Already wantin’ more sweetheart?” Joel planted a gentle kiss on your shoulder before finally pulling out of you. He stepped back, pulling his jeans back up into place; he stopped for just a moment, noticing the way his cum dripped out of you and slowly trickled down the inside of your thighs. Resisting the primal urge to take you all over again, he zipped up his jeans and buckled his belt. He then realized you still hadn’t moved and a frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Baby I didn’t hurt you did I—”

“Shut up,” You told him, lazily waving a hand at him. “Don’t ruin it.”

Joel couldn’t help but chuckle as he shook his head. “You really are somethin’ else, you know that?”

“Mhm, but that’s why you love me,” You reminded him, glancing over your shoulder at him with a tiny little smirk.

Joel leaned over, quickly feathering a trail of kisses down your spine before he started walking around the bar and picking up your clothes. He handed them to you along with his jacket and helped you clean yourself up with a clean rag from behind the bar. As you dressed, he disappeared behind the counter once more, returning just moments later with a glass of bourbon in one hand and another clean, damp cloth in the other. “Sit,” he ordered, pointing to a bar stool and you obeyed. You sipped on the hard liquor watching as he started wiping down the table. Discarding the cloth into a garbage bin, he began putting all the chairs up on the tables for you. Looking around, he asked, “What else do you need me to do?”

Setting the glass down, you stood up and shook your head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll come in early tomorrow and finish up my tasks before the bar opens.” You smiled tiredly at him. “Let’s just go home, yeah?”

“Yeah, you need to get some rest—” Joel stopped, his dark eyes widening when he caught a glimpse of the marks that had already begun forming on your neck. “Shit,” he muttered as he hurried over to you. He moved the lapels of his jacket out of the way and touched them delicately. “You’re not gonna be able to hide these, baby.”

“It’s fine,” You grinned at him. “At least now, everyone will know who I belong to.”

#smut prompt challenge #Joel Miller #joel miller smut #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x oc #joel miller hbo #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller angst

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agoodomenssideblogiguess · 5 months

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What if Aziraphale wasn't on earth between 1941 and 1967?

What if, the same way Crowley was brought back to Hell in 1827 Aziraphale was recalled to Heaven in 1941?

Hear me out: Aziraphale has been making slow but steady progress within his character arc right? In 1941 at the end of the night, sharing drinks with Crowley in the bookshop, Aziraphale was willing to accept that things are not always black and white and sometimes there is room for shades of grey (albeit very light grey). Compare this to his thinking concerning Elspeth. Aziraphale kept flip flopping back and forth over whether Elspeth's actions were good or bad. He didn't seem to consider her actions were ethically complicated. In his mind they could either be good or bad depending on whatever information came to light in the moment.

It also seems that after the church, the magic trick, and the shades of grey discussion, Crowley and Aziraphale are back on good terms with one another. At the very least, talking and willing to spend time together again. Other than the mention of how easily accessible the holy water is in the church, Crowley doesn't seem to mention or allude to his request again. However, in 1967, it feels like their interactions are strained again. Aside from the awkwardness and tension in their conversation, it's also strange that Crowley is surprised to see Aziraphale in the Bentley (despite being PARKED IN FRONT OF THE BOOKSHOP) and that Aziraphale is only aware of what Crowley is up to through second-hand means “I work in Soho, I hear things." (You don't need to 'hear things' when Crowley is conducting those things IN FRONT OF THE BOOKSHOP)

So what happened? My theory: Aziraphale has been serving out a punishment in Heaven since 1941.

Fandom consensus seems to be that there is a 1941 pt. 3 coming next season and many are hoping for a kiss or something undeniably romantic (I am too ngl). But what if it's actually a scene where Aziraphale gets dragged back up to heaven?

Shax said that 80-90 years ago was the first time that she heard about Crowley and Aziraphale being an item. We can assume that this 80-90 years ago was during Furfur’s failed evidence presentation to Dagon and F(r)iends.

A lot of demons were hanging around in that scene. It wouldn’t surprise me if one of them (or Shax herself) got in touch with an angel in Heaven and let them know about the rumor downstairs of Crowley working with an angel on Earth.

Obviously, Heaven can’t allow that, and who else could it be other than Aziraphale? He’s the only angel down there, so they recall him. Without evidence though, and given that (1) it's a demon's word against an angel's; (2) less than a century and a half ago, Gabriel awarded Aziraphale a medal for his work on earth (bookstore opening cut scene); and (3) as far as we know, Aziraphale hasn’t had any major offenses other than frivolous use of miracles, I don’t think Heaven can really do much. That doesn’t mean they don’t do anything, I just don’t think they do anything like use hellfire on him or make him fall.

Despite the lack of evidence, Heaven still has to make an example out of Aziraphale for getting caught working with a demon. I think whatever punishment Heaven doles out, keeps Aziraphale up in Heaven for a long time.

(Small tangent: If it can be traced back to one event rather than a slow progression over millenia, this rumor is also probably what makes all the archangels be so cruel to Aziraphale (or at least finally gives them permission to act on what they’ve been wanting to do for ages). Maybe this is when they start looking into Aziraphale’s past endeavors and notice Crowley everywhere.)

It could be worse, if there had been evidence, it would have been worse. Still (Aziraphale might think), this is Heaven, 'the side of good', they wouldn't take it too far. He probably received a trial before his punishment began. And yeah the trial is more for show than anything else, but it's not like Hell would have bothered with any of that. Hell would probably delve right into whatever torture they'd decided for punishment. His time spent in Heaven, no matter how intense the punishment, would have been a breeze to tolerate compared to what Hell would do to Crowley. Speaking of which...

By the time Heaven lets Aziraphale back down to Earth, I think he would be a mess of mindless worry. He had just come to terms with his feelings for Crowley after all. Maybe this is why Aziraphale decides to give Crowley the holy water after all. He's had more than enough time in Heaven to realize that as much as he wants to protect Crowley and keep him safe, all that intent means nothing if he's stuck in Heaven because of his own carelessness. In Aziraphale's absence (or destruction), holy water could keep Crowley safe, at least from Hell, even if it is dangerous. Once Aziraphale is back on Earth, when he hears what Crowley was plotting, it probably further cements his decision to give it to him.

If Aziraphale got taken up to Heaven right after the magic show, he probably has no idea if his palming of the polaroid worked for sure. The bookshop is a safe place for Crowley to be away from Hell, but how long will that last? Is it still an embassy with Aziraphale up here in heaven? Is Crowley defenseless against the other demons down there? Did Hell come for Crowley after all even without evidence?

So how long is Aziraphale gone for? We already know that after Crowley got sent back to hell in 1827 and Aziraphale didn’t see him again for “a very long time.” The next meeting we, as an audience, see between them is the holy water request in 1862. So at worst, Crowley's been in Hell for ~30 years. Heaven probably would have taken Aziraphale back for a similar amount of time. And wow look at that, 26 years ago by between 1941 and 1967.

There’s enough ambiguity in the set and dialogue to allow for this length of absence as well. I already wrote a post about how ridiculous Aziraphale is for saying 'I work in Soho I hear things' in 1967 when the whole scene takes place outside the bookshop and how equally ridiculous Crowley is for seeming to think Aziraphale wouldn't notice him prancing around the block plotting to steal from a church. But maybe Crowley conducting his holy water heist business all over Aziraphale's corner of Soho is because as far as he knows Aziraphale isn't around anymore. In my post, I point out that the bookshop is blocked off by the "Striptease" and "Love Shop Cinema" signs but that you can tell it’s the bookshop because of its pillars.

I admitted that it was weird to cover up half the windows, but didn't really have any diegetic explanation for it. Maybe the explanation is that Aziraphale’s bookshop has been abandoned for years. In which case, I think Crowley might be hanging around Soho caring for it and the books, making sure it doesn't get vandalized, protecting it from snooping humans, etc. (tangent: this could also be why Aziraphale says that the bookshop is both of theirs. Maybe the "plenty of use" he said Crowley got out of it was while Aziraphale was away. Maybe Crowley used it as a pseudo base of operations.)

Aziraphale being gone would also explain why, suddenly, 105 years after his initial request, Crowley is plotting to steal holy water from a church. Aziraphale has been gone a long enough time that Crowley is starting to get antsy. Maybe he’s starting to think that Aziraphale is gone for good (not dead, he is an OPTIMIST DAMMIT). I think Crowley is spurred to start the holy water heist because he thinks Aziraphale isn’t going to be assigned to earth any more and whoever they're sending down next is going to be more of a smitey kind of angel. And if Aziraphale isn’t around anymore, then the demon-proof-except-for-Crowley-bookshop/embassy is also likely not going to stop any demons from getting to Crowley whenever they want. If Aziraphale is really not coming back, then Crowley is alone again, on his own side, for the first time since they saved Job's kids. He's gonna really need that insurance now more than ever and unfortunately, he has no one else to rely on. He’s gonna have to procure it himself, even if it’s dangerous and dumb.

Aziraphale's absence (as much as I am loathe to let go of the theory that Aziraphale and Crowley are just being incredibly dramatic idiots) can also explain some of the dialogue from the 1967 scene.

“What are you doing here?” might seem a silly thing to say when Crowley is parked outside of the bookshop, but makes sense if he's reacting to seeing Aziraphale for the first time in years, so damn close it can’t be a dream, right inside the Bentley.

“I work in Soho, I hear things,” is not just a way to give the audience exposition that Crowley wouldn’t need but a way for Aziraphale to explain why he’s there.

The barely concealed desperation in Crowley's voice when wanting to give Aziraphale a lift home (despite being LITERALLY OUTSIDE THE BOOKSHOP), or to take him anywhere he wants, makes a little more sense if he hasn’t seen him in years, wants to catch up, and doesn’t even know where Aziraphale would be staying if not the bookshop.

If this theory is true and Aziraphale has been absent between 1941 and 1967, it could explain why we don't see the bookshop in the 1967 scene even though everything else in the scene points to it taking place on that corner, it would give Aziraphale a reason for deciding to give Crowley the holy water after all even though hes been stubbornly opposed to it for more than a century, and it could also explain why even though he was making a lot of progress character wise to, it felt like he was regressing again.

#good omens #good omens 2 #go2 #gos2 #good omens meta #good omens 2 spoilers #long post #i would love to hear what you all think about this #im sure im missing stuff that this theory cant explain within the show #but it feels pretty solid to me

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charliemwrites · 5 months

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Rudolfo time!!

(Slightly more kidnap-y but not entirely through his fault. Also, this character is mute, I hope i portrayed it well but please let me know if I’ve used any words or phrases that aren’t correct)

You aren’t actual cartel. Not a single one of them would protect you or have your back or even spare you a sip of beer. No, you’re just a runner. Transport messages, mostly. Code words that aren’t usually that clever, USBs sometimes. Once a shitty flip phone.

You don’t want to be cartel. Even tangentially as their messenger. But your family needs the money, badly, and they pay well. Especially when you’re good at what you do. And you are. Perks of a messenger who can’t speak your secrets.

In the end, you don’t even think it’s your fuck up. Just wrong place, wrong time, and a very important thing that you’re carrying for the cartel.

You don’t resist Los Vaqueros. Go along quietly and politely. When they ask you questions you just shake your head, hands trapped behind your back and unable to sign an explanation. No matter how they shout and threaten and explain how much trouble you’re in (and oh don’t you know it) you can’t answer beyond over-exaggerated facial expressions and weird half-gestures.

They drag you to their colonel and his second. The colonel is scary. Scarier than any cartel lieutenant you’ve faced. The more he yells and gestures, the more scared you get. You don’t know these men, after all, don’t know how far they’ll go in pursuit of stopping the cartel.

It’s Rudolfo that steps in, something in his face curious. He squats down in front of the chair they’ve sat you in, expression easy and calm.

“Can you tell us your name?” he asks.

You sigh softly and shake your head.

“Can’t or won’t?”

You swallow, blink once. Thankfully, he gets it.

“You can’t speak?”

Relief floods you as you shake your head, shoulders slumping.

“If we get your hands free, can you find some to communicate with us?”

You nod, leaning forward a bit. He clicks your cuffs loose and you’re quick to begin signing but he puts his hands up.

“Wait, wait, it’s been a long time since I saw LSM. Let’s get you an interpreter.”

They bring in one of the other Vaqueros, who speaks as your hands move. You tell them your name, where you’re from, answer their questions.

Please, I’m scared. I don’t want work for them anymore but my family…

Even the colonel has softened as you’ve cooperated, softens further at that last message.

“We’ll secure your family. In the meantime, write down everything you can remember. Locations, names, messages, packages. Anything and everything,” he explains.

He leaves Rudolfo in charge of you. You… don’t mind. He’s patient as you find a way to organize things, carefully written index cards organized in groups. Names accompanied by physical descriptions, where you saw them, what you brought them. Vehicles, code words, and anything else you saw while delivering.

Rudolfo is surprisingly kind to you. He offers you food and water, updates on your family. (They won’t speak to you for working with the cartel. You understand… but it hurts. Rudolfo is gentle as you cry into your hands).

He talks to you. You don’t understand why, but he does. Tells you about Los Vaqueros, Alejandro Vargas, himself. Waits patiently for while you write out answers about yourself.

When it gets to be late and you’re just entirely wrung out, you finally ask, why are you being so nice?

“I don’t blame you for trying to help your family. The cartel prays on the vulnerable. You made a mistake, and now you’re trying to fix it. That’s what matters to me.”

You’re not allowed to leave. Even if you were, you wouldn’t want to. The world seems even bigger and scarier than before, now that your former employers will mark you as a turncoat. You are, of course, but it’s frightening. It wears you out.

Rudolfo clucks after your health, asking if you’ve slept or eaten. You hardly ever have. He’ll cart you off for a meal or a nap, promising to stand watch, that no one will bother you. You often end up in his clothes, few of your own as you’ve got.

He’s also learning to sign. The first time he says, good morning how did you sleep, you start crying. He gives you a big hug until you stop.

When he has time you help him practice. He’s teaching the others too. They’ve learned how your hands form “Rudy” to help you find him.

One day, he and Alejandro sit you down. You’ve long exhausted what you can actively remember from being the cartel’s messenger. It was only a matter of time, you think. Your usefulness has ended.

“You’ve been granted a full pardon given the circumstances and your cooperation,” Alejandro explains. You’ve warmed up to each other quite a bit since you first arrived. “You’re no longer detained here.”

You nod, trying to blink away the stinging in your eyes. You should be happy, relieved, grateful. They didn’t have to pardon you.

But all you can think about is having to leave. You’ve come to feel safe here with Los Vaqueros. With Rudy.

“You don’t have to,” he blurts.

You blink at him, a bit startled by the unusual outburst. He runs a hand down his face, starting to flush.

“You don’t have to stay… but you don’t have to leave,” he explains. “We’ll keep you safe here.”

You stare, throat thick with emotion. He takes that to be hesitation and leans forward, taking one of your hands in both of his.

“Let me keep you safe. Please.”

You stay. How can you not?

You don’t actually know what your official job is on base - except that it’s a lot of following Rudy around. So, nothing to complain about.

He keeps a close eye on you always. That the others are at least cordial given your past. Has squared up with one or two others for questioning your loyalty. He’s not an easy man to anger but people quickly learn that you are the exception.

The first time he brings you a flower, you fawn over it before making him place it in your braid. After that, your hair is often adorned in dahlias and roses and honeysuckle. He swears that you smell like them even after they’re gone.

You’re in love with him, can’t imagine any other conclusion you could come to. It hurts when you see new recruits flirting with him, or women out at the bars. Can’t blame them either, really.

“Why the long face?” he asks after politely declining an offer to dance. You were hoping you hid in your drink fast enough. “No, no, not on my watch, flower.”

He stands and gently urges you to your feet, guides you out onto the dance floor and sweeps you into the rhythm of bachata. You fluster, hide your face against his chest as he laughs.

“There we go,” he chuckles, “that’s better than looking sad.”

You huff, caught between longing and enjoying the moment. He leads you through two more songs before taking you outside for fresh air, a hand on the smell of your back even once you’re leaning on the balcony.

“What is it?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”

You try to figure out how to explain without ruining everything. His eyes dart between your hands and your face, trying to decipher a garbled message that just won’t form.

I just…. like you too much, you admit finally.

He tilts his head, but pauses to consider that. Then shakes his head and crowds close. Your hands press against his chest, feel his heart beating hard and strong against your palm.

“Impossible,” he replies. “You can’t like me too much when I love you.”

And he says it so simply, like the desert is hot or the sky is blue. You stare at him, mouth parted. He grins, swoops in to kiss you, little more than a peck compared to what you crave.

“C’mon, let’s go home. We have a lot to talk about I think.”

Home brings clarity. It brings promises. It brings you a man that massages your hands when they get tired from writing, who teaches you his grandmother’s tamale recipe.

Home is a man who laces flowers in your hair. Who teaches you to shoot and how to pick handcuffs. He brings a life where you’re always pointed in his direction, or he in yours. Safe inside his base, with his soldiers.

#thoughts™️#cod #keeper/kept au #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #keeper rudy

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