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thecuriousquest · 2 months

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MHA Spanking Pain

Multiple MHA Yandere Characters

Warning: Light yandere themes, NSFW (punishment spanking - NOT EROTIC), non consensual punishment spanking, bruising, bare ass spanking, characters 18+, characters can either be platonic or romantic

Master List

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Bakugou- We already know. Explosions. Murder. JFC wouldn’t even be able to get through the first spank. And he’ll fucking give it to you too. He goes harder than you could have ever imagined. Like, you’re over his knee, bottom bare due to him LITERALLY RIPPING OFF YOUR CLOTHES. They’re just in tattered heaps on the floor along with your dignity.

Deku- Fuck. Really? Goddamnit. Couldn’t even handle it at 2%, and he wants to go 10%?! 😭 You must have really done something to fuck up if he’s pissed enough to spank you that hard.

Shoto- Okay, you were expecting him to heat up his hand. That’s always a given. However, you never FUCKING EXPECTED HIM TO TURN DOWN THE TEMP. His hand is freezing your ass with spanks, and it’s so painful in like a cold and numb sort of way.

Kirishima- You don’t even understand! 😭 When he uses his quirk to spank you, you’re literally bent over in the most degrading way, your skin stretched to his liking to make that sensitive under curve completely visible. And then his hard paw cracks down on your skin as if someone spanked you with a paddle made of concrete. And your scream is so loud that your voice breaks and actually goes out within the first minute.

Denki- When he spanks you and charges his hand with volts of electricity…fuck you’re just fucked. Say your prayers, light a candle for yourself. Do whatever you need to do to mentally prepare for this fucking torture.

Aizawa- He’s got that Dad swing. Hurts like an SOB. Ties you up too. Bitch, you ain’t goin’ nowhere. Not today, not gonna even be able to walk properly for a while.

Enji- Also has that Dad swing, but he can also heat up his hand and burn your ass.

Overhaul- It hurts, and he makes sure you know what you did was wrong, but you can usually get through it with minimal tears.

Shiggy- Bulked up Shigster makes you wonder what you did in a past life to deserve suffering under his “special spanking” glove. It’s exactly what it sounds like. He has his gloves that make sure he doesn’t decay whatever the fuck he touches. But this support item…whomever made them must either really hate you or they’re really scared of Shiggy. Hurts like a mother fucker.

Dabi- Dear God…his spankings are the worst. First of all, he doesn’t even necessarily need to do this, but he ties you down to the bed. Each limb secured by rope which is attached to each bed post. Either turns up the temp in his hand or just lets the flames do the talking. It really just depends on his mood and the infraction. What’s worse is that sometimes you don’t even do anything to deserve it. He just likes hurting you because you can’t do anything to stop him. 🖕

Mr. Compress- Very old fashioned. Pants and underwear bunched at the ankles with you bent over his knee. Uses his hand or a paddle, sometimes a belt if you’ve been very naughty. However, he always gives you a long winded lecture like a fucking monologue as he spanks you, and his words are what makes it all sooooo much worse. His words actually leave you in tears. Yes, the spanking hurts, but it’s the guilt that ebbs and gnaws at your heart.

Twice- Spanks you and then apologizes because he doesn’t think you deserve it only to laugh at you and do it again. It’s a literal mind fuck, but he’s got you pinned down with a clone. I think a funny idea is him making a clone of himself so that his double can spank you while he watches, and then he says something dumb like “Take your hands off of my woman! That’s kind of hot, do it again!” The pain though…he’s an actual devil, so he’ll spank you rough and raw, bruise you up just with his hand.

Hawks- Lord have mercy! Uses his hand AND a feather, and his feathers are like one of those paddles with the holes drilled into them. It’s the worst being spanked by one of those feathers. He uses spankings for large scale infractions. Punishment is punishment. It’s gotta hurt so you can learn. Quick corrections are done with a few smacks on the spot, typically over your clothes. The big rules you break are ALWAYS done bare with you bent over the back of the couch. He spanks you to tears even if it breaks his heart to do so.

All Might- Heeheehee. Okay, so like if we’re talking bulky All Might, then you know you’re not going to be walking properly until the swelling and bruising goes down. In this form, he doesn’t even need to use an implement. His hand is just fucking enough. If we’re talking depleted All Might…I’m just gonna let you know that his hand is still enough, but he’s more likely to use paddles and belts. I honestly think he’s even old fashioned enough to cut a switch. Either way, your ass is grass, and you’re fearing for your life the moment he forces you over his knee or the bed for a long punishment.

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yanderambling · 1 year

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I'm already loving your posts

what do you think about a yandere assistant and villain reader?

They would be so frustrated because the reader is spending all theirs energies thinking of a plan to capture the hero and not giving them enough attention.

100% would kill the hero behind reader's back

i'm so glad! and yes please i love a jealous little creep, i'm already obsessed <3

concept: Henchman!Yandere(gn) x Supervillain!Reader(gn)

words: ~700

CW: 18+, yandere behavior, stalking, breaking/entering

You look so alluring when you scheme. No earthly or heavenly beauty could compare to the mere sight of you:

The stern concentration pinching your brow just slightly, your arms flexing as you clench and release your fists over and again, your lip idly drawn between your teeth on blessed occasion- it’s enough to make someone bite through their tongue (just partially, and it was only twice).

Tau watches you plan for hours a day (even when they technically have other tasks to carry out), they like to imagine it’s them you’re looking at with such a single-minded focus (perhaps knelt over them on your bed, deciding precisely which ways you want to take them apart).

What they wouldn’t give for just a fraction of the attention you constantly bestow upon that sniveling little “hero”. It’s not even like the hero has done anything to deserve your dedication, not like Tau has.

No, all they did was beat you (which few have ever done). And then… keep beating you (which none have ever done).

Tau knows how much you hate to lose, lower grunts have payed with their lives for Uno games, but… there’s something more to your preoccupation with that vigilante wannabe.

They can see it in the way your bright eyes flick about the room, the way your lips just barely part as you mumble strategy and probability, the way you zone out during meals (that they made for you, naturally) then dart up to your office to test an idea, the way you constantly stay up well into the next morning trying out new inventions and gadgets to take them down- Tau hates to think it, but they know it’s true:

This hero is… motivating you.

As delightful as it is to see you so lively, Tau can’t help the furious jealousy that roils in their gut almost constantly these days.

Why can’t they be the one to make you feel like this? Why can’t they challenge you, inspire you? Why can’t they bring that spark to your eyes?

They should be able to.

They’ve been by your side since the beginning, supporting and encouraging you through every high and low, they know you better than anyone does (yourself included)- and, goddamnit, they deserve it! They’ve given everything to you, and all they ask for in return is a second glance (then a third, then a fourth, then- oh, just stop looking away already!)

It's just not fair- that boot kisser gets every second of your free time, every spare thought, all 'cause they can take (...and deal) a couple hits? (More than a couple; Tau has definitely tried to take them down on many a solo mission, and they've always come out worse for it. They don't wanna talk about it.)

At the very least, they do get to spend a little more time with you, even if it's to watch you obsessively plan for the hero's interruption of your next evil venture.

They're still the one by your side.

They still get to stand at your shoulder and pass you tools as you work on a project (and bite their cheek every time your fingers touch to hold back a moan).

They still get to brush their shoulder against yours while you both stand over a blueprint (and then spend the next fifteen minutes trying not to hyperventilate and/or enter cardiac arrest).

They still get to hang up your cloak after a strenuous mission (and bury their nose in it until the edges of their vision go dark, and lick your sweat off the collar until their tongue is raw, and rub the damp material across their skin until they can feel you all over them).

(They still get to sneak into your bedroom every night with the spare key they made under your nose. They still get to pant over your face as they bask in your glory, as they breathe your breath. They still get to oh so carefully interlace their fingers with your own, intoxicatingly warm ones, they still get to pretend you'd ever want to hold them.)

Yes, they're still very much happy with their position- they'll just be much happier once that nuisance is taken care of.

Then, they can focus solely on aiding you in your endeavor for world domination, and you can focus on what really matters: them!

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post~

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #soft yandere #sub yandere #gn yandere #gn reader #henchman yandere #supervillain reader #yandere oc #yandere concept #yandere imagine #yandere requests #requests open #tw yandere

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mamirhodessxox · 11 days

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😭😭 need a fic of him just in interrupting reader while baking ( reader could be a baker and trying new recipes to add to their menu )

Cherries On Top

Cody Rhodes x Baker Fem!Reader

Desc: Y/N is trying to focus on adding new sweet treats to her bakery’s menu but her husband tends to be a distraction.

Contents: Fluff, Cody being a little annoying but in a tolerable way, SMALL indications of smut, Y/N being a lil cutie Patootie!

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23 @jeysbvck

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

Before Y/N & Cody established a relationship between them Y/N had a small little bakery filled with alll sorts of sweets & treats! Once a month she would spend an entire day whipping up pies & cakes and many other scones & sweets to add on the menu at her little bakery & do cooking youtube videos & Today was that day.

Y/N was in the middle of recording in the kitchen, Cody would walk by every now and then or stand behind her and watch over her shoulder to see what she was doing. But then he became more vocal.

She was currently working on a bourbon pound cake. “Don’t you need measuring cups for this part?” He questioned while his hand ran up and down her back while his wife shrugged “I’m just gonna add like a few shot glasses worth of bourbon.” He shot open his eyes and looked over at her camera set up and shook his head dramatically “She’s gonna get me drunk with a cake.” Since he was video bombing Y/N she decided that she would put him to a little work and start stirring the cake mix while she poured bourbon into the mix very carefully & poured him a small shot as a reward which he pridefully took

Y/N was instructing her future viewers how to carefully put the mixture into the pan & how long to leave it in the oven but Cody randomly popped back into the kitchen “Check out my gun.” She looked up as he interrupted her speech & smiled “It’s a salt shooter my dad got it for him.” “Maybe next time I make steak I can season salt onto it with my cool gun yeah?” She shook her head “No because you’re gonna break something. Just use your hands.” He glared for a second and sassily shook his head “I won’t break anything.”

6 minutes later Y/N worked on another small pastry while the cake was in the oven & suddenly the lights started flickering & she laughed a little before he walked back into camera frame “What are you whipping up now?” “Blueberry crois-“ “Hold on wait I have a quick question what did 50 cent do when he was hungry? 58.” “Your not funny.” He shrugged with a smug smile “I’m actually very funny.” She hummed nodding slowly “whatever helps you sleep at night my love.” He raised an eyebrow and looked at a bowl full of flour.

Hmmmm…….

Interesting…..

What if he just….

“CODY GARRET RUNNELS GODDAMNIT I’M GOING TO KILL YOU IN YOUR SLEEP!” Y/N stood there frozen as he actively poured flour over her head while letting out a mischievous laugh “uh ohh she said the full na-“ she splashed him in the face with water “well deserved.” She glared up at him & picked up her bowl filled with yet to be stirred eggs while grinning to herself as her husband backed up and raised his hands in defense “No…Y/N….” She squinted and nodded “your right that would be to messy.” She sighed while he let out a chuckle of relief but she caved & poured the eggs all over him making him gasp and look at her while she giggled & grabbed the flour bag before shaking what remained inside all over him before he turned starring at a glass of milk that sat on the counter next to one of the bowls it was supposed to be inside of.

Eventually she gave up on the video she tried making & giggled while playfully kissing her lover while he grinned biting her lip a little & grip at her waist “You sure you don’t wanna take it any furth-“ she nodded immediately and pulled away before prancing up the stairs to get clean “C’mon Codes your filthy.”

This was just the Cherry On Top for Cody, he immediately tossed away the kitchen towel & followed behind her before giving Y/N a light smack on the butt chuckling

“The shower is your best idea yet sweetheart.”

“Pervert.”

mamirhodessxox’s Masterlist

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myfandomlikesandstories · 9 months

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Spaces

Marc spector x gn!reader

Genre: angst, hurt comfort

Summary: Marc has a panic attack and some intrusive thoughts following a simple, innocent request from you.

Warnings: heavy angst and crying, suicidal ideation, mention of Nazis, panic attack, intrusive thoughts, extremely negative self talk.

Word count: 1186

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Marc and you were lying in bed, cuddling after a long day. You've been together a few years, and been through quite a lot, yet always on each other's side. You were surprised when you heard about his alters, Steven and Jake, but welcomed them into your heart. The three of them, in turn, filled every crack of your heart and mind with their unending love. All four of you became a whole.

Marc's arm was draped across your body, his hair tickling your skin pleasantly. You were pressed very close together. Usually, that would have been wonderful, not too warm or suffocating, but tonight:

"I need some space." You declared, thinking nothing of it. You draped the blanket away from yourself, and Marc scooted back, somewhat confused.

"Okay," he said, nodding lightly but concerned. "Whatever you need, babe." He rolled on his side turning his back to you, and lied down on the far edge of the bed. You were so tired, you didn't notice the shake in his voice, or how he inched farther and farther away from you, until his bent knees were hanging in the air.

"It's cold, here, now." He thought, and didn't understand why his throat was closing up. His body became stiff as the familiar record started to play in his mind. "Just until a moment ago, you were in the warm embrace of heaven. How did you fuck that up? You'll always be alone. Cold and alone. Even the stray dogs won't like you. You always ruin it for everyone. Steven deserves a life, goddamnit! You don't even deserve this bed."

You heard a sharp inhale as a chill went through his body and he shot out of bed. "Sorry." He managed to croak out, eyes filling with tears and he left the room.

Marc's legs carried him to the tiny guest bathroom, where he slid down the wall onto the floor, and closed the door behind him. He couldn't breathe, only in tiny little gasps and whimpers. He buried his head in his knees, trying to muffle his cries into his hand.

"No one will hold that hand again," a thought floated into his head. "You're pathetic. You're nothing. You don't deserve any of this. Look at yourself, disgusting! DISGUSTING!" The word echoed in his mother's voice, making him flinch from the belt that was no longer there.

Tears were now flowing from his tightly shut eyes. "Some space! You're so dramatic, you're such a burden, you're strangling, you're horrible, kill yourself! Give all the world some space from Marc Spector, smallest, shittiest and worst man on earth! You're thinking that, it makes you evil! You want to kill yourself, and you want to kill Steven and Jake too because you're trash! That's why there's Nazis! For you! SOME SPACE!!! THAT'S WHY YOU'RE NOT WANTED! YOU CAN'T EVEN GIVE YOUR ABSENCE!!!"

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You thought for a second that he just went for a wee, and closed your eyes. You just wanted a few minutes to breathe and cool down, and then you'll turn around and cuddle up to him. You love to press your face into his warm chest.

Wait.

He didn't go to the en-suite.

You opened your eyes, came back to your senses, and heard a muffled cry. Not 5 seconds after, you were banging on the bathroom door, your heart breaking at the uncontrollable sobs coming from inside.

Marc didn't open the door, and you decided it was enough. You warned him, and opened it yourself. Your boyfriend leaped away from you, hitting his head on the tile and squeezing himself to the best of his ability between the toilet and the wall.

"Marc, honey, hey-" you started, crouching down to him.

"That's where I belong." He hiccuped. "The piece of shit that I am." His voice wavered, he gasped sharply and sobbed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He pleaded through the tears.

His face was red and wet with tear tracks. His eyes were completely bloodshot and mostly closed, and he was shaking all over. You kneeled in front of him, and took one of his hands in yours. Your other hand went to scratch his soft curls and rake them over. He did it a lot to sooth himself, and you figured it might help.

"I'm here, baby," you told him. "Everything's okay. I love you. I love you, Marc." You moved your hand to cup his cheek and caress it, and saw that he was continuously mouthing the words "I'm sorry" through his anguished expression.

"It's okay. It's okay, honey. I promise. It's alright." You reassured him, and pressed his hand to your lips for a quick kiss. That drew loud, ugly cry from him. "Try to breathe with me, hun." You said and moved his hand to your chest, to feel your deep breaths.

He tried, bless his soul he tried, and ended up coughing and choking on his own tears, causing him to sob even harder. "I- Ah- I'm sorrrryyyyy" he whimpered miserably, so deep in his self flagellation he couldn't stop apologizing. For crying. For making a fuss. For not giving you space. For not being able to give you space. For making excuses. For existing.

"Okay," you took a deep breath for yourself and sighed with determination. "Let's get you up." You said and grabbed your boyfriend from under his arms. He grasped onto your arms to steady and pull himself up, as much as he could on his shaky legs.

You kissed his forehead, and the spot of his head he accidentally hit. You kissed his knuckles, and where he bit down on his hands. You kissed his cheeks, and his nose. That made him smile. You kissed his lips, which induced a fresh wave of tears, and then you kissed those as well.

Eventually, you got the both of you safely to bed. Marc looked horrible. Well not that he could really, being Marc, but he certainly looked like he was feeling horrible. At least it seemed as if the journey across your home shook him up enough to get his bearings. He was starting to realize what was going on, that none of his terrifying, intrusive thoughts were real, and that he had his very loving and loved partner right next to him.

Marc was starting to calm down. Loud, painful sobs reduced into sniffles. He probably disassociated a bit, as managing these attacks was still hard for him. But he had you. You laid him in bed, covered his shaking body and helped him take his slightly sweaty shirt off. You gave him a box of tissues from your nightstand to wipe his runny nose and tear stained face with. You hugged him when he clung to you like his life depended on it. Maybe it really was. Damn. You really fucking love him. Through EVERYTHING. And he loves you so, so much too.

He was safe, loved, cared for, important, appreciated, and for the first time in his life, thought he might deserve to feel that way.

You were each others' safe spaces.

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MASTERLIST

Just tagging some mutuals, no pressure!

@ivystoryweaver @writingforcurrentobsessions2 @romanarose @my-secret-shame @luke-o-lophus @spider-starry @eyelessfaces

#moon knight #my post #angst #fanfic #moon knight fanfic #hurt/comfort #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x male reader #marc spector x gn reader #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight angst

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flatoutin-eaurouge · 3 months

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Don't leave me alone in this cruel world. Part 1/2

Pairing: Mika Häkkinen x Michael Schumacher

A week ago a lovely anon 🫶 entered my askbox with a heart-breaking and very angsty prompt. Thank heavens, I was allowed to write a happy ending! I wanted to do this prompt justice so I decided to write it in two parts...

Amid the revelry at the afterparty of the FIA Price Giving Gala of 2001, two rivals sat down for a chat in a quiet corner of the huge ballroom. Michael had perched himself on one of the lounge chairs, his shiny trophy proudly sitting next to him on a side table. This evening he was at the center of attention, but he gladly made time for his favourite rival.

Mika stared at the World Champion of 2001 sitting opposite to him and smiled. Michael was well on his way to become the greatest legend of the sport, if he wasn't already. Four championships and counting. He slapped the German on the thigh. "You're making it very difficult for me to catch up!"

Michael laughed, his lips quirking up in a warm, genuine smile. He grabbed Mika's hand and gave it a little squeeze. "I miss our battles, Mika! I miss fighting tooth and nail for championship points and I miss deciding a championship on the last race day."

Mika threw Michael a rueful smile and tilted his tumbler of Scotch, staring at the amber liquid inside the glass. "I've lost my spark, Michael. I don't know what it is, but DC seems to have surpassed me in terms of speed."

"That's nonsense, Mika!" Michael placed his own tumbler of Scotch on the salon table and spread his hands in front of the Finn, as if he was trying to make a point. "Your car is incredibly unreliable! It creates a distorted picture of the championship table. Remember Spain?"

"Of course I remember Spain. You were very sympathetic to me. I remember that!"

Michael nodded. "You know, I just feel a certain way towards you. Our battles were always fair and I appreciate you as a rival. Villeneuve and Hill wouldn't have deserved that kind of sympathy from me."

Mika chuckled. He studied the face of Der Kaiser and noticed the glimmer in his eyes. "Always fair? From your side as well?" he teased.

The German took Mika's comment in good humor, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Okay, Macau 1990 is debatable... but other than that?"

Mika winked at his rival. "All good."

Michael threw Mika a beaming smile and realized that their connection was really special. He would have never expected to feel genuine admiration for a fellow driver. But Mika and him had a long history. He could still remember the day they met. It was on a rainy day in Kerpen, Manheim. They were both lanky teenagers with questionable haircuts in cheap racing attire. They were always a bit distrustful towards each other, which was logical because they both still had a long way to go to get to F1. Over the course of years, they had grown into handsome adults and their interactions had grown more mature.

"Hey Michael." Mika snapped his fingers to pull Michael from his daydream. "I want to know your opinion on something."

"Oh sorry. I was fading a bit. I don't think you need my advice, but please go ahead."

Mika looked around nervously, making sure no one was in hearing distance and leaned a bit forward in his chair. "I am thinking about quitting," he whispered.

What?! Michael froze in position and blinked with his eyes. The ease and the swiftness in which Mika spoke these words startled him. It caught him by surprise completely. If he was drinking his whiskey right now, he would've probably spit it all out on the neatly ironed slacks of the Finn. "You say what?!"

"Sshhh." Mika pressed a finger to his lips. "Not so loud. Only Ron knows about it."

"Mika, you can't quit!"

"Michael, lower your voice, goddamnit!" Mika hissed. "There is too much press here!"

"Sorry!" Michael now whispered. "What did Ron say? I don't think he is happy?"

"Ron, told me to think about it very thoroughly. He is willing to give me a year off, like some sort of sabbatical for next season. So my decision won't be too definitive."

"Why would you want to quit though?"

Mika sighed as he downed his glass of Scotch. "I don't want to risk my life anymore with that unreliable car. I've had my shunt in 1995 at a time my journey wasn't complete, so I decided to return to racing as soon as my condition allowed it. But now... I have two world championships and Erja is at home taking care of my first born. I don't want Hugo to grow up without a father."

Michael swallowed as he stared at Mika intently. How could he forget? His rival had almost died that year. He rembered how upset he was. Even during his championship celebrations he spared a thought for his unfortunate childhood rival. "Your 1995 crash..."

Mika nodded. "Yeah, I don't want to relive that all over again! Especially not now I have a little family."

There fell a silence between them.

Michael stared at the floor and tried to smooth out the creases in his slacks. It was six years ago. So many things had changed. The FIA had obliged drivers to wear a HANS-device.

"Mika... would you consider driving for one more season? Just to see if Newey can make your car more reliable? To wipe the floor with David and battle against me?"

Mika bit his lip and thought for a moment. The images of his near-fatal crash flooded his mind "I don't know, Michael. At least two of my big crashes were because of a failing tyre suspension."

"You know how much the safety has improved since your crash in 1995!" Michael was shocked by his own words. Why did he make it seem like Mika's crash back then was no big deal?! Was he too selfish asking Mika to stay?

Mika quirked up an eyebrow. "What difference does one more season make, though? Do you really think this year will be different?"

"Mika, you're talented and fast! You deserve another world championship! Maybe you win 2002 and we will be sitting at the FIA Gala like we are now, staring at your shiny trophy."

Mika nodded. He didn't seem convinced but the twinkle in his eyes told a different story. "I will think about it."

Melbourne March 3 2002, Albert Park

There he was! Like nothing had changed. Michael let his eyes roam over the silver-white McLaren race suit. The garment hugging Mika's slender waist and making his shoulders look extra broad. It was the outfit he loved most on him, despite the garment wearing the badge of the arch rival.

Mika had grown his hair out again as if his renewed race spirit had begged him to go back to the good old times, where Michael and him had to fight for every championship point.

Michael watched as Mika's hand carded through that mop of thick blonde hair, making its golden layers cascade in the sunlight. It was really just like the old times!

The Finn walked past Michael and winked at him, as if he wanted to say: See! I listened to you! Here I am! Now make it memorable!

Michael felt a source of warmth send sparks through his body. The corners of his lips curled up in a genuine smile. He craved for the good old times! He craved for a season like 2000.

Yesterday, Mika had managed to qualify his McLaren MP4/17 on the first row next to Michael, proving that he had lost none of his spark.

"Now we will have to see if the car doesn't fall apart during the race. I have some bad memories from last season," Mika had said during the press conference.

Michael remembered that he had told Mika at the FIA Gala that he was convinced Adrian Newey would make it work. That man was genius! A genius that Ferrari would love to fit into their team.

But Newey was a McLaren guy just like his favourite rival, who was getting into his car right now. Michael watched as Mika put his blue and white helmet on and felt the heat from the core of his body travel to his cheeks when he noticed that Mika was smiling at him. He reveled in the Finn's cheeky twinkle. Gosh. Michael wanted to thank the heavens Mika qualified first row with him.

He sat down in his own car as all mechanics were ushered to leave the grid for the starting procedure. Michael flipped his visor down. He had an inkling he would be going to enjoy this race, driving wheel to wheel with his Mika.

With the formation lap done, Michael focused on the red lights flashing on one by one and engaged his throttle. Lights off...

The joy of a perfect start... Mika knew he was an excellent starter, but bringing the wheelspin to a minimum and flooring his pedal at just the right time sent a wave of serotin through his body. Could he miss this feeling? Was it the right decision to continue after all?

Michael saw him disappear into the horizon and he could feel the broad grin that tugged at the corners of his lips almost instantly.Yes! Let's go!

Mika's leap to the front lasted for a full fourteen laps before Michael saw the Finn's car gradually growing more prominent into his vision. That black, white and silver... not the black, white and silver of David Coulthard, but the right black, white and silver.

He grabbed the steering in a white-knuckled grip and almost jammed the throttle into the floor of his car. His engine roared. The chase had started...

He followed Mika, copied his racing line and tried to optimize it Schumi-style. It worked. He was swiftly approaching his rival.

Until a radio call stopped him from engaging in a battle with the Finn.

"Box, Box Michael. We're going for an undercut."

"Give me one more lap, please!"

"Negative."

Michael shook his head in annoyance. He craved for a wild, primal battle with that blonde stud. Maybe if he drove a little more on the limit he could get Mika before the pit entry!

He bit his lip and pressed down. The RPM reaching the limiter.

"Michael, what are you doing? Cool the engine!"

Michael could see the large back wing reading Mika's name on it only 1,5 second in front of him. A feeling of sudden happiness spread through his body. He was close...so close...

Until...

The entire tyre suspension on the front of Mika's car tore off, leaving debris all across the track. It sent the car into a wild spin. A spin at a speed of 300 km/h. Michael gasped as his eyes tracked the sudden movement. What the hell?! This can't be real!

The tyres of the black car scraped on the tarmac. Sparks jumped off of the broken metal of the tyre suspension. A large sausage curb sent Mika's car flying into the gravel trap with a heart-stopping speed.

Michael began to slow down in an instant and watched the silver McLaren crash into the barrier surrounding the track with a loud bang. His heart rate went up. It all went quiet for a moment as the agressive roars of Michael's engine starten to lessen. He steered his car onto the grass without hesitation.

Michael stopped his car and jumped out of it. My God, Mika! He beelined through the gravel trap all the way to the steaming wreckage. The race would probably be redflagged anyway... and even if it didn't... who cares! Mika was inside that wreckage. The man who didn't want to risk his life anymore. The man who wanted to see his firstborn grow up. The man he asked... no begged... to continue racing regardless!

Michael rushed to the cockpit of the car, his rapidly beating heart banging against his rib cage, afraid for what he would encounter.

He gasped in horror when he saw Mika's seemingly lifeless body hanging over the steering wheel. Michael didn't hesitate. He took Mika's helmet off to make sure he could breath freely, then gently pushed his body to lean back against the headrest. Oh Christ!

The Finn's balaclava was damp and dark red and his eyes were closed. No, Mika! Michael tugged at the drenched cotton, wincing at the warm and moist feel of it, then gently pulled the thing off.

Mein Gott! Like his balaclava, half of Mika's face was coated in blood. It streamed in waves of red from his nose and mouth, pooling in the collar of his race suit until it seeped down from underneath the velcro of his collar. It contrasted brutally with the silver-white of the McLaren overalls.

It was only five minutes that Michael was alone with Mika, but it felt like hours...

The tears streamed uncontrollably down Michael's cheeks. To watch the life literally pour out off his beloved rival broke his already aching heart beyond repair. This was his fault! He did this!

He gently caressed Mika's face and wiped the blonde hairs sticking to the blood on his face to the side. I'm sorry I did this to you! Michael's hands were shaking as he unclasped the Finn's safety belts and clutched his limp body to his chest. This should not have happened.

Even if this crash was like Adelaide '95 – meaning that Mika would recover... – it also meant he would have to go through all of that again! The pain, the anxiety, the loneliness and the boredom.

Michael held him as he cried bitter tears of emotion. He tried to cuddle the Finn's body to his chest and murmered encouraging words into Mika's ear. Stay with me, please! Please, Mika!

In the remaing minutes, Michael zipped the Finn's race suit open, looking for wounds that needed to be staunched. Where does all that blood come from!? Michael's hand ghosted over Mika's fireproofs, feeling for red, damp spots... until his fingers touched something cold and hard. He gasped loudly and tugged the sturdy textile of the race suit further open to see for himself how a long piece of debris from the car had impaled Mika's side. The steel rot stuck out from between his ribs. A dark red spot betrayed the severity of the wound.

Michael retrieved his hand and stared at his red, treacly fingers in terror. He shuddered all over. Bitte, helf mir mal! Jemand! His hands went down again, inside Mika's unzipped race suit. He grabbed the textile of the fireproofs surrounding the wound and pressed down to staunch the bleeding. Stop fucking bleeding!

He cried in frustration. His breathing hitched in his throat. Hot tears made his vision blur. Michael was in a shock. The guilt taking over his mind made him shiver in pure agony. This was his fault!

Closing his eyes and fearing for the worst he felt for Mika's pulse. Contrary to what he expected, the Finn's heart was racing, which meant he was still alive, but Michael knew the organ was fighting against the enormous loss of blood. Trying to dry the ocean with a thimble! Where were the goddamn medics?! Five minutes already!!!

And although those five minutes alone with Mika meant the world to him, he cursed those five minutes as well, because it all took too long. The life was literally pouring out of his rival.

Michael started to fear that this crash was nothing like Adelaide '95.

He held Mika's face in his hands, gently pressing a kiss to the Finn's temple. You are the most respected rival I've ever had! Don't go! Please don't go! He stared at the Finn's pale face, his colourless lips and his closed eyes. His expression was calm and serene like that of an angel, but his face was hellish red. Will you ever forgive me?

Michael watched apathetically as the medics pushed him aside to take over from him. He barely listened to the medic scolding him for removing Mika's helmet without stabilizing his neck first. All he could think of was his Mika, suffocating in waves of blood.

Michael was gently but firmly lead away from the scene of the crash, while he barely registered what was going on. They pushed him into a safety car and drove him back to the paddock.

He stared with tears in his eyes at the red flags that were being waved along the track. He sighed and closed his eyes. Why the hell did this happen? How could he ever live with himself?!

When he arrived at the paddock, Michael wiped his forehead and immediately realised that the blood he was smearing all over his skin with the action, was the blood of Mika.

Michael let out a heart wrenching sob and sagged down against a wall. He covered his face in his hands and didn't look up when people put a hand on his shoulder and spoke to him. He didn't dare to look at the tv screens inside the Ferrari garage that broadcasted the actions of the medics. He was in a world of his own. Praying he could reverse time...

#😭😭😭 not okay #makkinen #mika häkkinen #michael schumacher #mika hakkinen #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #flatoutin-eaurouge #f1fanfic

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wannaeatramyeon · 11 months

Note

PLEASE MORE OF THE HOTUB MEETING THINGS ITS SO FUNNY AND I LOVE UR WORK FOR LOOKISM

Hey Anon! I responded to the other anon but I got inspired to write more crack. What is continuity, you ask? Well who the hell knows.

Men of Lookism: Bathhouse Meeting Part 3... with Guests

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4: Women of Lookism

What is this, a crossover episode?

As more naked bodies file in, the tension could be cut with a knife.

The establishment was supposed to close off the bathhouse for the rest of the night. Any further admittance being strictly forbidden. This has never happened before, there must be some scheduling mistake.

Even with the fights and squabbling breaking out from before, the easy air was no longer.

All eyes are on the men entering.

Recognition dawns.

Turns out, they are not out of place here.

Gun Park makes the first move.

"Warai Oni," he bows, "We finally meet."

Baek Seongjun returns the greeting with reverence, "Shiro Oni."

"The fuck is wrong with your eyes?" A rude voice cuts through.

"Taehoon!" Yoo Hobin scolds under his breath, elbowing him swiftly in the stomach. He'd much rather face the wrath of Taehoon, who would likely just kick him a few times, than the infamous Gun Park, who would probably murder him. "Don't you know who that is?!"

"Why the fuck would I know?" Seong Taehoon does indeed throw a kick at Hobin, who manages to jump out of the way in time. How dare that little asshole elbow him.

"That's Gun Park!" Snapper is practically vibrating with excitement to be in the same place as him. "He was voted most popular by a fricking HUGE margin!"

Gun smirks at the last part but of course his partner comes to rain on his parade.

"So what? His eyes are freaky, aren't they?" Goo Kim teases, materialising next to Taehoon and resting his head on his shoulder. "He's so ugly."

"Get off!" Goo pouts as Taehoon pushes him away.

"Hey," Jason Yoon nudges Johan Seong, "There's that Taehoon. Do you think we should say hi?"

Johan doesn't bother to look, making a move to get out of the water anyway. "Whatever. Any crossover was years ago."

"So what's your backstory?" Baek Hangyul asks the man sitting to his right.

"Nothing interesting," Jinho shrugs. "I'm just crazy."

"Same." Hangyul smiles at him, having found a kindred spirit.

Seo Haesu studies the menu on the wall, mind never too far from food, and wondering what he should eat next.

"Hi," he greets the guy now next to him, eyes also scanning the menu.

Johan looks over and nods.

"Welcome to the Sad Boy Simp Club!" Ryuhei throws his arm around Kim Munseong.

"Sup," Zack Lee says, joined by Xiaolong and Warren Chae.

"I... guess that's me." Munseong grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Can I join?" Wangguk overhears, thinking that he deserves at least an honorary membership.

Confusion paints Munseong's face. "I thought you and Rumi...?"

"Sort of. It's all very rushed. No one's satisfied-"

Xiaolong suddenly breaks off from the group "Sorry, excuse me!" having spotted someone in the distance.

Ji Yeonwoo feels strangely exposed as he walks nude into the room. Not that he's shy, but he feels vulnerable. Like someone is constantly watching. He heads for the water as quickly as he can, wanting to cover up.

Mangi relaxes in the water as Yeonwoo settles next to him.

Two bald heads belonging to Jerry Kwon and Brad Lee catches his eye. He smiles to himself, comforted by the sight of his bald brethren.

A set of doppelgangers meet up.

"Baek Seongjun!" Xiaolong calls out. The other blue haired man smiles politely at him.

"I'm sorry for stealing your design," Xiaolong, contrite, executes a 90 degree bow.

"Don't worry," Seongjun dismisses any concern or ill-will, "It's not your fault. Besides, I'm dead."

From afar, Eugene keeps a close eye on Yeonwoo, observing him from the moment the latter walked in. Almost a doppelganger of his own if his growth spurt would kick in and if he could put on 30lb of muscle.

Goddamnit. He wants a glow-up too.

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manicformunson · 2 years

Text

lips of an angel

master list

pairing eddie munson x fem! reader

summary after a summer long affair with eddie the freak gets drunk and calls reader while she's with her boyfriend.

"This is, this is fucking stupid."

Eddie mumbled to himself as he struggled to dial the phone and light a blunt. He had gotten drunk and drunk Eddie does stupid things like get jealous over a girl who isn't fully his.

"Hello?"

The sound of her voice was like an angel and hearing it made goosebumps break out on his arms and his heart beat just a little faster.

"Y/N it's, it's Eddie."

"Eddie? Why are you calling?"

He couldn't really give her an answer to that one. Why was he calling? He missed her. Needed her.

"Are you drunk?"

He ignored how her voice lowered drastically before taking a hit.

"I need to see you. I miss you."

Y/N scoffed then the sound of shuffling could be heard before she spoke again in another whisper, "I can't talk now, James is here. I have to go-"

"Goddamnit why do you, why do you even bother with him? I am so much cooler than him and, and I'll treat you the way you deserve."

"Eddie-"

"And you know I would 'cause I love you and I know you love me."

She was silent so in his drunk and semi high state, he took it as a sign to keep talking.

"Say it." Eddie took another hit before chewing on his bottom lip, "Please, I just, I just need to hear you say it."

The silence over the line was all but deafening, Eddie swore he could hear both of their hearts beating together in a rhythm.

"I do." Y/N's voice was so quiet he had barely missed it with his mind in such a fog. "I do love you but, it's just not a good time right now."

"Why can't I just be enough for you?" Eddie caught himself asking, pretty damn bold of him getting so hung up on a girl.

It didn't used to be like that; he remembered when it started, at first they would just steal a few glances from each other across the lunch room all while his arm was around her.

Then she had approached him, twisting her hair between her fingers and ever so sweetly asking, "You're Eddie right?" Next thing he knew the two of you had ditched 6th period to have sex in his van, which was enough for Eddie for a while but then you would stay a little longer after each time, giving him the opportunity to learn more about you and vise versa.

His heart would swell at the sight of you then immediately crack once he saw James, every damn time. What he wouldn't do to be in his shoes. So he did proceed to wonder,

"Why can't I just be with you? The only one with you?"

Y/N had started to answer but Eddie could hear James ask in the background who was on the phone, "Oh uh no one, wrong number."

The dial tone shattered his heart.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #joseph quinn #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you smut #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x reader fic #blurb #eddie munson blurb

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bonezone44 · 4 months

Text

Muddy Waters, pt 5. (18+)

'Webbing'

Ezra x F!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: A brief look into Joel’s past with Tess and his current feelings about you. Joel explains the “situation” to Ellie. You have a fantasy about Joel before another argument with Ezra.

Word Count: 4,6k

(story masterlist) (main masterlist)

tags: NSFW 18+. Intuitive!Reader. Afab!Reader (she/they). Southern!Reader. Established Ezra x F!Reader. Polyam. No use of Y/N.

This Chapter: implied p-in-v, pillow-humping (f), dirty talk

Author's Note: I'm back, baby! I love writing this fucking story. I just needed the holiday break.

+++++++

Joel couldn’t feel a thing. Couldn’t conjure the appropriate sensation.

His body was there and all pieces were accounted for. All his nerve endings were functioning properly–a little too properly if you asked the growing soreness in his calves and knees. And he knew he should feel something. He should feel a heated tug and pull and burning soulful ache. He should feel his whole body sparking and warming and melting into the woman in his lap.

But when Tess started kissing him, he felt nothing. He could recognize the presence of her wet lips and tongue against his own. He acknowledged the weight of her body resting on his legs and her skin pressing into his chest. He was aware of her. He was aware of the contact being made between their bodies.

And he knew he should feel something. Anything. He knew it wasn’t the liquor and pills–the man was stone cold sober. He knew he owed her his life, his protection, his every waking moment.

This was Tess, of all people. She was so beautiful and patient and kind. She was clever. She understood him and his temper. Understood the rawness of his hurt. She knew how to guide him when he turned volcanic. She knew how to aim his fire.

She took all the thoughts and responsibilities away from Joel. She allowed him to be a mindless weapon. Allowed him to be nothing but the shell of a man–heart and innards done ripped out at the loss of his whole world, his daughter, his Sarah.

Joel’s body reacted naturally to Tess’ hand around his length, growing hard in her grip. He tried to focus on it–focus on what little warmth there was left inside him, searching for a thought or memory to stroke the fires on his own. He tried to feel for Tess the way she wanted him to–the way he knew she deserved.

And goddamnit.

Tess deserved anything and everything for putting up with Joel’s ungrateful ass. She deserved to be cherished and attended to. Deserved to be worshiped and adored for the forgiving patience she gave to Joel’s relentless ire.

Tess deserved the whole world.

But Joel couldn’t find it within himself to give it to her.

He could give her this, though. He would let her climb on top of him and take whatever she wanted for however long she wanted it. He would watch her as she bounced in his lap. He would tug her nipples and suck her skin. He would thrust up into her and meet her rhythm–play with her clit when she got close.

There was love–yes. He loved her. He cared for her deeply. He was comfortable, too. He had no qualms about sharing his body with her. He had no problems giving her the powerful releases she needed to clear her mind and be at ease.

But he couldn’t find a spark to ignite to truly desire her.

And he fucking hated himself for it.

On top of all the other failures that piled up over time.

And when she was done taking what she wanted, he would pour himself a drink.

To wash down all the vile shame he felt for not wanting her back.

+++++

Joel had regrets with you already and he was steadily chewing on them.

He had been so cocky when you came over that first night. He felt fired up like some stud bull, luring away a married woman from her Less-Than-Man. He felt like the height of power and wanted to rub it in Ezra’s pathetic face. Wanted to make him feel like some sad little boy who didn’t know what the Big & Mighty Joel was capable of stealing from him.

God, he was so embarrassed.

‘Cause that’s not what Joel wanted. That’s not how Joel really felt deep down inside. A part of him got off on cuckolding Ezra, sure. But it was a superficial fantasy. A friction founded on a flat perspective of simple roles. Like you were all cartoon characters. Never growing, never changing, repeating the same things episode after episode.

And that hadn’t been what drew Joel to you.

You drew Joel to you.

Your eyes, your skin, your voice. The way you walked and talked and flirted. Your accent–Goddamn!--he could listen to you talk all day. It was your smile and laughter, too. The way your whole body lit up like a Christmas tree when you were happy or amused. Flashing and sparkling and shining bright.

And when he saw you in the toolshed and he saw your sunniness had started to burn, he put an end to it right away. He had enough voices in his head lashing out and whipping him. He didn’t need to introduce another.

But then… you listened. You stayed. You didn’t spout off and go stomping away.

You respected his request immediately.

It warmed something deep and forgotten in his chest. That you wanted him enough–trusted him enough–to acquiesce. It was like you were dancing all over again, alone in his living room, and moving the way his body asked you to.

Shit.

Every time he was with you, he was always remembering one thing and forgetting another. With you, he forgot about the past twenty years of pain and suffering and all his buried stories. He forgot about the ease with which he could pull a trigger, throw a punch, beat the light out of someone’s eyes till they were limp mounds of flesh with blood pooling around them.

He also forgot about Ellie and his new life with her and her ability to come and go through the house as she pleased (what the hell was he thinking fooling around with you in the kitchen of all places?). He forgot about Tommy and Maria and their newborn son, Mateo.

And to top it all off with a shiny little cherry, he had forgotten why he went to the toolshed in the first place. He was all distracted by the thought of having a hidden moment alone with you, aching to get close and touch your skin and feel the good he felt in your presence.

And then,

With sprinkles, he had forgotten there was a fucking window in the back of the General Store–even if the blinds were always down and closed.

And…

Well…

He figured you had forgotten about that, too.

Joel needed to get his shit together and he knew it. He knew he needed to stop worrying about getting his dick wet in some other man’s wife and take care of his own fucking family.

But…

God, forgetting felt so fucking good. It felt so good to forget two hazy decades of liquor, pills, and violence. It felt so good to not think about all the repairs and maintenance due and to sit and glow by your side. It felt so good to be romantic and tender and affectionate. And to feel sexual desire for someone and have them mirror it right back–hungry, aching, and eager.

Fuck.

Joel thought that part of him was long dead. Dead and buried with the cartilage in his knees.

But you revived it somehow. You inspired a chase in him through your ever-shifting maze. Forced him to redevelop his heart-racing hyperfocus. The more you reacted, the more he figured you out. The more you softened to him, the more he defined your edges and angles.

He hadn’t understood his curiosity in the beginning. It had felt like a grating pull in your direction. But instead of ire at the end of the rope, there was ivy–blooming and expanding through him like lush summer overgrowth. As if your fluid presence quenched his arid earth.

He wasn’t a desert, as he had thought–unable to absorb rushing, flooding waters.

He was rich soil.

Patient and waiting.

Waiting for someone like you.

And even though he felt like some stupid, forgetful piece of shit, he had no doubt that he could make the two of you work. He meant it when he said he didn’t give a shit about the people in Jackson. They were all background noise to him.

But he did care about his family. He cared deeply about Tommy and Maria and little Mateo. And he cared exponentially about Ellie.

And when Ellie came home talking about how she heard from someone who heard from someone else that he had been fooling around with you, Joel had to provide her some kind of answer. Mid-thought. Mid-chew.

Joel threw his hand up in a huff. He was sitting at the kitchen table, slouched in his chair and ruminating when Ellie interrupted him.

"But that's not true, right? Isn't that like… cheating?" Ellie asked, seemingly fearing his answer.

He ran his fingers through his hair, off guard and unprepared. "It's not cheating if everybody knows and is… okay with it."

"Oh." She seemed relieved. She tilted her head and hummed. "But I thought a couple was only two." She narrowed her eyes at Joel.

"Well, you know, Ellie, uhh…" He was digging around in his brain for the right words. Grasping for whatever he could. He echoed your sentiments. "You don't have to pick just one. If you don't want to. If… everybody is okay with it."

Her face lit up in surprise. "You don't have to pick?" Her eyes went off to some distant thought. "You can have… both?"

"If it's okay with everyone," Joel added. Not like he had spoken to Ezra about you before all of this … happened, exactly. He worked his jaw, clenched his fist–rubbing some invisible scuff on the table.

Ellie hummed–pleased, satisfied. She walked over to the cabinet, retrieving a glass for herself before filling it in the sink. She stopped.

“And how did you know she liked you back?” She asked over her shoulder. “How did you know she'd say yes?”

Joel shrugged with a smile. “I didn't really. But I had a feeling in my gut, you know? A real strong feeling that she would, but …I didn't know for sure.” He rubbed his palms together before opening them back up wide. “I've been wrong before.”

Ellie turned around. Pursed her lips. “And you weren't like… scared?”

Joel had had quite a bit of liquid courage that night. And he didn't want Ellie to think that that was a good choice to make when dealing with sensitive matters such as these. He imagined it would have gone quite differently if he had been sober. "Part of me was scared, yeah.” He nodded. “Another part of me figured it was worth the risk."

"You weren't scared that like… you'd stop being friends… if she said no?"

Joel then realized that Ellie was speaking on a personal nature. He chose his words with care. "There was that risk, yeah. But you gotta think…” He sighed. “Well you gotta think about a lotta things, really. Whether it's worth losing. Whether it's worth speaking up.” He started shaking his head to emphasize his point. “‘Cause it changes… everything.” He said with his brows high and his eyes wide. “Changes how you see each other. Changes how you talk to each other, you know, and uhh…. Changes how you see yourself, too."

Ellie nodded, staring off into a distant memory in her mind. "Yeah, yeah it does." She sighed. She drank a sip of water, and nodded down at her glass. When she looked back up, she was smiling. "I'm proud of you, Joel," she said, squaring her shoulders.

“For what?”

“For goin’ for it, dude!” She cheered. She put her hand on her hip and shook her head with a grin. “Didn’t know ya had it in ya.”

Joel rolled his eyes and sighed, fighting back a smile. “Go… get ready for dinner,” he said, dismissing her with his hand.

Now, Joel was exhausted. He had had a long day of repairs and his legs were sore and aching from his knees all the way down to his toes. His lower back was tight and burning. He felt a new callous developing on the curve of his right thumb. His eyes were dry and itchy and he was so hungry that his stomach was starting to eat itself. The brief moment he had had with you in the morning had his mind chewing more than his mouth could, which led to him skipping lunch.

All he wanted to do for the remainder of the evening was have a nice dinner with his family at the dining hall and then go right back home to sleep, spread out long and alone in his big, comfortable bed.

And yet those plans quickly changed when he and Ellie stepped out the front door of their house and into the cooling sunset air. A second wind of energy gusted itself through Joel, awakening his body and mind all at once, when he met the figure standing on his porch.

It was Ezra. His hands were casually tucked into the front pockets of his jeans. He wore a long-sleeved black thermal and his short-cropped hair was damp. At first Joel thought the man was sweating–but the smell of soap radiating from Ezra told him otherwise.

“Good evening, Ellie,” he said cheerfully as she stood frozen in place. He looked up. “Joel.”

“Ezra,” said Joel, standing tall and crossing his arms. All emotion had dropped from his face.

“May I have a word with you, Joel? If you would be so kind.” Ezra spoke softly, casually.

Joel released a breath of hot air from his nostrils. He turned to Ellie. “I’ll meet you there in a minute.”

Ellie’s mouth went tight–her eyebrows high on her forehead.

He sighed and relaxed his posture. “It’s fine. Just go,” he stressed with a nod, standing firm until she huffed and began making her way to the dining hall.

Joel glanced up and down the alley in front of his house before stepping out of the doorway and allowing Ezra inside.

Joel followed on his heels. He flicked the light switch, illuminating two lamps on opposite ends of the living room, and closed the door behind him.

+++++

You hadn’t been gone from the apartment for more than an hour and Ezra had already fallen asleep on the couch where you left him. His book had fallen to the floor. His jaw was slack. His eyes shut tight. And the head of his cock was poking out the top of his boxer briefs. Semen drying on his belly.

You wanted to be angry, and part of you was, but a larger part of you was amused. Tickled to the core, in fact, as you swiftly ran to the bedroom to scream laughter into a pillow. God, Ezra was such a teenage boy sometimes. Didn’t he know the door wasn’t locked?! Anybody could have walked in and seen him like that! Though you did forget to grab your key when you stomped out that morning, so it was probably for the best.

You couldn’t wait to wake up Ezra and tell him about his little Kodak moment.

You sighed with your face still in the pillow.

Why couldn’t Ezra grow up with you? You were so proud of yourself for putting an end to the hate-fucking, no matter how disappointed Ezra looked when you had the talk. But you hated angry sex. It got you all confused. Anger was supposed to be a bad emotion. It was supposed to be kept quiet and under control. It wasn’t supposed to be used against your partner in mutual contrition.

Jackson was supposed to change things for the both of you. It was supposed to be a place of peace. You weren’t supposed to be angry anymore anyway. You were supposed to be happy and content for your newfound safety. You were supposed to be grateful you didn’t have to fight off infected or FEDRA or that fucking rat in Memphis who saw your teary-eyed kindness for the manipulation it truly was that one time.

You were tired of living sloppy and lounging around every day. You were ready to be a woman. A real woman. A real, grown woman.

Maybe that’s why you liked Joel so much.

Joel Miller was a man.

He was always scowling about something. Stomping around town in his work boots like he was always on the job. He was quiet, too. A whole world of stories and memories inside of him that were itching to come out. And he was structured. Reliable. And he didn’t deal with anybody’s nonsense–not even yours.

God, it turned you on.

Sometimes dealing with Ezra was like playing tug-of-war: You two would start arguing and lashing out, tugging the rope back and forth until one of you gave in. More recently, though, Ezra stopped tugging as much as he used to. He would hold the rope in his hand with a smile on his face while you were at the other end, yanking and wrenching with your heels dug in the dirt, going wild with fury.

With Joel, when you lashed out at him that morning, it was like you were yanking on the rope again. But instead of tugging back or treating you with condescension, he dropped his end entirely. Let you fall on your ass. Because Joel didn’t wanna play games. He didn’t want to start an angry chain reaction that led to more frustration and upset.

It set you free. Knocked something inside of you back into place.

You loved it. You loved the way he detached. The way he refused to give in, feed into your emotions or try to fix them. The way he stood there patiently, waiting for you to recover and express what was really bothering you.

It made you want him even more.

You wanted his hands all over your body. His pouty lips all over your skin. You wanted his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.

You moved your pillow next to you and kissed it, pretending it was Joel.

Your face went hot with shame.

This was silly. Stupid.

Childish, even.

Ezra was in the next room. If you wanted to have sex, you should just wake him up and get on with it.

But in that moment, the thought of Ezra disgusted you. You didn’t want to have sex with some gross teenage boy.

Because you…

You were a woman. And you wanted to have sex with a big, strong man.

And since Ezra was sleeping pretty heavily, you decided to indulge yourself.

You got up from your reclined position and brought your pillow between your thighs, imagining Joel beneath you in his green flannel and dark blue denim jeans. An eager scowl on his face. You glided your hands upward on the bed sheets, pretending it was his warm, heavy torso. You cradled the air, pretending to hold his face in your hands as you leaned in to kiss his puckered up lips. Your hips began to move back and forth of their own accord, your body warming up to his imaginary touch. You felt so connected to him in that moment that you knew, you swore up and down to yourself that he had to be thinking about you, too. Right at the exact moment that you were.

He just had to be across town, working alone in an unfinished house, his body overheating with desire. He just had to be too overcome by his thoughts of you that he was hiding in a corner and jerking himself off–needy with his face on fire.

Nothing else would explain how you felt so magnetically horny–so locked into your fantasy that there was nothing holding you back. You were grinding your clothed clit against the soft pressure of the pillow, aching for something to fill you up inside. You recalled that night on his kitchen table, the feel of his hard cock pressed against you. You felt your cunt clench around nothingness again and again–wishing it could suck something big and thick in it. But not just any something–Joel’s something. Joel’s big something that made your mouth water and you hadn’t even tasted it, yet.

Which made you all the more thirsty.

You knew you were a sight–hunched over and humping your own pillow. You imagined Joel walking in and finding you, desperate, horny, and alone. And he would stomp over with a desperate look of his own saying, “Darlin’, please. Come ride this cock if you need somethin’.”

“Fuck yeah, baby,” you whispered aloud. You’d ride that man’s cock day and night if he asked you to.

You licked the bed sheet, pretending to lick into his mouth. Pretending to taste that whiskey all over again. Your hips continued to move steadily. Fire building slowly inside of you.

You needed this. Needed to feel loved on and wanted all over. Needed to love on yourself in a way that maybe someone else could love you, too.

You imagined him thrusting up into you, too needy for his own release to make you do all the work. In your mind, his brows were furrowed and his teeth clenched tight as he filled your ears with promises and filth.

“Leave that boy behind, darlin. Let a real man take care o’ you.”

“Is that what you needed, darlin? You needed my big cock inside o’ you?”

“Fuck, that pussy’s good. That pussy’s all mine, ain’t she? Ain’t she?”

You started riding the pillow faster, harder, desperate for enough pressure to take you over the edge. It wouldn’t take much with how lost you were in the fantasy–as if he was really in the room with you. Beneath you. Touching you and talking to you. Giving you everything you could ever want.

You came with a low moan, thighs clenching around your pillow. You slowly blinked and looked around at the bedsheets and the empty wall above your headboard. It was quiet. The noise of town outside was barely audible through the small triangle window above your dresser. There were sounds coming from Ezra in the living room, either.

You sighed and relaxed, feeling satisfied and dreamy-eyed. You rolled onto your back, thinking fondly of Joel, until you fell asleep.

Ezra woke you up a few hours later. He rolled up the wet towel from his shower and whipped you in the ass with it while you lied on the bed.

You woke up with a yelp.

“What?” you slurred. “What time is it?”

“Time for dinner, my divine angel,” he grinned and sat next to you on the bed. He wrapped the towel around his neck. He was already dressed and ready for his day. Or night, rather.

“Stop whippin me in the ass, you asshole,” you groaned with a smile.

“Stop having a succulent, whippable ass,” he said before reaching out and squeezing one cheek in his hand. He bit his bottom lip, eyes going hazy with desire.

You laughed into your pillow. You propped your head up in your hand and stared into his big brown eyes. Ezra was your other half. He understood you in a way that no one else ever did. No one in your own family, that’s for sure. The recent problems you had been having with him were so petty compared to the shit you two had been through over the years. Some of which were problems exclusively created by you. He was so forgiving. Too forgiving, in your opinion. It pained you, deeply, to ever fail him. He asked for so little of you. And you asked for so little of him.

“I wanted you to know that I picked up a little while you were sleeping,” he said, continuing to massage your cheek with his thick fingers. Not looking you in the eye.

“You did?” Your lips went tight. You felt a sparkling sensation in your cheeks and around your eyes.

“I know how much the little things can get to you sometimes.” He slid his hand down the back of your thigh. “And it is a small request to put my own laundry in the hamper.” He sighed. “I can… be responsible for you.”

You were honestly surprised. You never got through to Ezra. He was his own man. Always had been. You were just along for the ride. But to see him acquiesce to you, finally, after all this time. “Thank you, Ezra,” you mumbled. “I appreciate it.”

“And I appreciate you, baby.” He looked into your eyes with sincerity. “I never want you thinkin otherwise.” His hand found your cheek and his thumb caressed the apple of it. He leaned forward and kissed you on the forehead.

You stared at him with glossy eyed wonder. Your body warming to his tender touch. You wanted to pull him on top of you, get a taste of his freshly scrubbed skin before he went on patrol. But his question interrupted your pleasant train of thought.

“What did you get up to around town today?”

“I–” You gasped and covered your face with your hands. “Oh shit!” You squeezed your whole body tight. “I need to tell you somethin.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

Ezra waited patiently.

“Tracy caught me and Joel kissing in the tool shed this mornin.”

He shrugged. “And?”

Your eyes went wide. “And I’m sure the whole town knows by now.”

He shrugged again. “Okay?”

You wiped your face with your hand and sighed. You spoke slowly. “The whole town is gonna think I’m fuckin Joel behind your back.”

He scoffed and stood up from the bed. “But you haven’t even fucked him, yet,” he sulked.

“That’s… that’s…” you shook your head. “That’s not the issue, Ez. The issue is that everyone is gonna think I’m some kinda slut or that I’m cheatin on you and I’m not. It’s all… consensual,” you said, moving your hand in a circle.

He sighed with frustration and tossed his towel in the hamper. “Well, I guess you gotta hurry up and fuck ‘im, then.”

“...what?”

He put his hands on his hips. “If the whole town is already under the assumption that you two are making the beast with two backs, then there is no real harm in proceeding with the deed.” He shook his head. “I find it to be pretty goddamn necessary at this point.”

“Excuse me?” You sat up.

“Time’s a wastin’!” He said with wide eyes. “Let’s get this show on the road already!”

You threw your hands up, looking around the room in mock disbelief. “What are you talkin about? Why do you want me to fuck him so bad?”

“You have been teasing me for what feels like weeks!” Ezra snarled and pointed at you with his finger. “I need you to fuck him!”

You wanted to laugh. And you did, a little. Your mouth going wide with a smile. “What does any of this have to do with you?”

“All of it, actually, has to do with me, your highness,” he said. “And I am tired of waiting for my turn!”

“Your turn? Ezra! What are you talkin about?”

“I’m talking about this whole little soiree–” he drew a circle with his finger. “--between me and him.”

You groaned. He was not clarifying anything. “Look, if you have issues with Joel, go to him about it. Don’t put me in the middle of it.”

Ezra tucked his chin. “Good.” A mischievous grin grew on his face. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He hummed with satisfaction and slinked his way into the living room. You heard him grab his things and head out the door.

What the hell was going on in Ezra’s head? You flopped back on the bed. “There is something wrong with that man.”

+++++++

A/N: I've had plans for the next chapter since writing chapter 2, I think, LOL! I'm excited.

tag list: @toxicanonymity @vabeachazn @suzdin @for-a-longlongtime @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sheepdogchick3 @rubyfruitjungle @shotgun-shelby @jksprincess10

#muddy waters series #x reader #joel miller x f!reader #ezra x reader #ezra x reader x joel miller

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saintobio · 1 month

Note

hello babe!!!

howre you? i wish you a lot happiness!!!!

anyways, i wanted to say that i understand how yn has her heart sickness, because everytime i think about sn&sy, my own heart hurts a lot, even more so after the last chapter. ch 9 was so heavy and angsty that i cried and i don’t cry that much because my emotions have been numb. what’d you do? how can a normal person write that? i take multiple breaks reading these chapters and sometimes even my absolute addiction and temptation is unable to make me read them all at once.

it’s just so appreciable how you write so beautifully. i love reading your fics not just because of how well they’re written, but also because it makes me feel an intense pain, and i love that pain, i want that pain. that’s not me saying that i don’t want yn to be happy; because idc about gojo as much as i want yn’s happiness. she’s done some ‘not-so-good-things’, but she’s also been through such agonising times and she just deserves happiness at this point of life and for someone to choose her, to love her despite her flaws. and as much as i want gojoyn to be an endgame. it’s fine if they aren’t, because they’re both mature people and deserve happiness. i hate how gojo has treated yn in the past, but i’m also kinda impressed by how far he’s come. i understand him going for akemi, as much as i hate how he chose yn’s bff, but that’s understandable, (i’ve s family member who had a similar accident and after that brain damage, he’s not been the same person, and coming from that, i think satoru went for the person who took care of him the most.) i’m suicidal on behalf of my sweetheart yn. i just want her to be happy, and cared for in love. and i want someone to pick her. and on this heartbreaking journey towards a happy ending for them, i’m in for all the heart-wrenching angst and rarely heartwarming moments!

it pisses me off how akemi went for her bff’s ex husband and istg i hardly care about how she fell in love(?) with him, because babe your bff had a life and death situation because of that man, how can you approach him??? it doesn’t matter that she’s moved on, you still do not go for your bffs ex, that’s a girl code. she may be a good person (questionably so, but hey, im not a pious hermit either to be judging her.) but she’s a real bad friend. her guilt is questionable when she she asks for a family from satoru right after she feels bad about betraying yn. like at least give time for that guilt to fester. i’m sorry i’m ranting. these are my personal feelings. and i love for writing akemi. she’s a well written character, much more than many other characters that i’ve come across.

sera. my baby. my queen. i do not stand by what she did in sn, but goddamnit, i’ve always loved her and her dedication and her aspirations. she wasn’t always bad, and i’m sure had the fic from her pov, we would have liked her more. because shes hardworking, and headstrong and FUNNY. and i love how she stood by yn, and her character development has been so beautiful. she deserves sukuna so much. they’re both my babies. i love that she could get this in her life.

there will be a lot of errors in this ask, and please forgive me for them. i’m extremely tired. exhausted even.

till next time, babygirl!

💌🫶🏻

thank you sooo much, i’m kinda glad you can feel the pain through my writing bc i guess that means it’s effective ? :’D i write way too much angst to the point where i just can’t tell how angsty something is bc i’m alr so numb lol T-T

but aaaaaa ur description of sy!yn hits hard while i’m writing sy10. idek if a person can realistically have this much anguish in her life but i do share ur sentiment of wanting her to just be happy, even if it means she won’t end up with gojo in the end 🥹 it’s the idea of acceptance and letting go that just hurts so damn good. tysm, it’s such a good perspective to read!

#🖤: letters to saint #series: sincerely yours #tw.suicide

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p1-f1 · 9 months

Text

Happy Birthday.

`,°*•~*~-☆

Pairings: Eric Cartman x reader

Pronouns: none. No gender implied

Warnings: swearing. (Rushed, sorry.)

WC: 1.1k

Authors notes: made for @h-harleybaby !! Happy birthday my love!! I love you sosososoo much!! (Yes, I already announced my break, but I love my wife, duck you if you dont.) Everyone with Harley a great birthday!! She deserves it!!

As you woke up in the morning, you heard that special alarm that reminded you it was your special day. Along with that, when you sat up, a sweet scent coming from the kitchen entered your nose.

Throwing on your best clothing, a cute outfit you had planned out over a few days, you walked to the kitchen, the cold floors sending a shiver down your spine.

There in the kitchen was the love of your life. In all of his adorable, chubby, and assholeness.

"I made you breakfast. Enjoy, bitch."

The brown haired boy sat the plate in front of you, and there were a few pancakes stacked perfectly with sweet white whipped cream on top. Eric may have been rude, but he meant well.

"Thank you, love."

He didn't respond, only kissed your head and sat next to you. I guess your birthday gift was having him watch you eat, because the boy wouldn't take his eyes off of you. (Or, your plate.)

A few minutes later, your head was rested on his shoulder, looking up at him with a sweet smile.

"What? What do you want?"

Eric said, an eyebrow raised.

"You remembered?"

"Yeah, course I would. You're a senior fucking citizen now. Happy one day closer to death."

The chubby boy stood up, walking to the sink with your plate.

"Thank you, bear."

That nickname you gave him always made him melt. (He'd never admit it. He's not a soft bitch in his words.)

"Stop calling me that, stupid."

Eric must have had plans for you on your special day, because once those dishes were done, you were rushed out of your apartment and down the street.

At least he dressed up for you. Or, tried. A nice t-shirt that didn't have a cuss or slur, black pants you swore he only wore for special occasions, and his adorable bracelet you bought with a small bat charm. Much like the plushie you owned.

"Did you make any plans for today?"

He asked, his arm around your shoulder.

"Just you."

The boy nodded, making a turn with you on his side. You weren't sure where you were headed, but you trusted Eric enough.

"My friends wanted to see you, or whatever. I told them to fuck off but Kahl said he already told Kinny to come over at one."

Eric scoffed as you giggled, thinking about that tone of voice he had when talking about his friends, it was like he hadn't changed since fourth grade.

"They did? That's sweet."

"Yeah, whatever, let's just get this over with."

"Okay, honey."

`,°*•~*~-☆

An hour later, you were sitting in Kyle and Stans shared kitchen, sipping on a small glass of soda (Faygo, to be specific.), while your boyfriend was judging you and Stan from the corner.

"I don't understand how you stay with him, Y/N."

"What? Eric? He's amazing! I don't understand how other people wouldn't want him."

The boy chuckled, shaking his head.

"I think that's just you."

"Nuh uh! I'm sure plenty of girls would want him!"

You said defensively, your hand pointing to the boy who was once distracted by Kenny's antics, but was now watching you.

"I'm not so sure about that."

"He-"

"And don't bring up Heidi, N/N."

"Whatever."

You could already feel your boyfriend's glare on the two of you, signaling it was time to get out of there or he'd be in a bad mood the rest of the day.

The cold Colorado air hit you as Eric opened the door, and waved bye to his friends, with you in tow.

"So, because you're like, my partner or whatever, I bought you some gifts. And don't make it a big deal do I'll hate you forever!"

A small giggle escaped your mouth at the thought of him shopping for you, knowing you were one of the only people he'd go into a shop for.

"Yeah? Thanks."

"Stop saying thank you. It's your birthday, goddamnit. You don't owe anyone anything. You're an old person."

"Eric, you're older than me."

"Shut up!"

"Okay, dear."

You couldn't help but giggle a tiny bit more, causing Eric to glare at you and loosen his grip around your waist. Your head found his shoulder, resting it there for the while as the two of you walked.

It's like he almost said something, but decided to save it. Save it for later, maybe? You couldn't help but wonder what it was.

The walk home would've been cold if not for Eric, his body radiating heat like no other with his adorable chubbiness you couldn't get enough of. He was like a teddy bear. Your teddy bear.

He opened the door for you, and shushed you before you could thank him. Giving a "what did I say" look before walking past you to his bedroom.

You quickly followed behind, but he closed the door on you. Pretty much slamming it in your face. Your head tilted, staring at the white door.

"Sorry."

Eric muttered from the other side, muffled from the paint and wood of the door. A minute later, it opened.

You almost teared up. Petals on the ground, leading to a small basket. Inside was a pack of bracelets, some to match, a few bottles of Faygo, a drink you had loved for a good while, and many other things like snacks and candy.

Your silence made him nervous. Eric pushed up his glasses as they were sliding down from him sweating, his cheeks and nose a light pink from embarrassment and worry you wouldn't like the gift he had spent so long on.

"Eric…"

The softness of your voice almost melted him, as his brown eyes met yours. Your face was of pure adoration. He was in love.

"I-"

"Shut up."

Eric knew what you were going to say, and he wanted to say it first. He cleaned up his bed, brushing off a few petals and pulling you down. You fell onto his chest, resting your head on the softness. With his hand on the back of your head, he spoke softly.

"I know I'm a total asshole and all, but uh… "

He hesitated.

"I love you."

If it weren't for the fact he was basically holding you down, you would have jumped up and down while squealing. The first time your boyfriend of five months had said "I love you" and you couldn't get enough of it. Though, you calmed yourself.

"I love you too."

He chuckles, pulling your small body further up him to press a soft peck to your lips.

"Happy birthday, Y/N."

#eric cartman x reader #south park x reader #eric cartman x y/n #pifi's stories!#happy birthday my love!!!

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rose-pearls · 2 years

Text

Childhood infatuation - Thunder

Summary: Jake Seresin came into your life and showed you what love was all about and you aren't the only one to realise that Jake is the one.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 - Epilogue

She had never expected to fall in love with someone after what happened with Rooster. They hadn’t been together, but her confidence was shattered, and she didn’t know if someone would be able to love her. Her family had always been there, but she wanted to have the kind of love that Ice and Mav had or her parents.

Love came at the most unexpected moment in the form of Jake Seresin, she had heard a lot of things about him but to her surprise he didn’t leave her hanging in the sky like she expected him to. The cocky pilot had asked her on a date and Thunder didn’t know what to do, she was scared that this was all a joke, and that the handsome blond didn’t really like her. But that boy proved her wrong in every single way.

Their first date had been a breath of fresh air after Top Gun training, the dinner he had taken her was small but felt like home. He spent the night making her laugh and blush at his flirty remarks. Jake managed to break down all of her barriers in just one night and every day that followed after that.

She had expected him to do everything in his power to win Top Gun, because she knew he wanted to prove himself, prove to his family that he was enough. Behind that cocky façade she had seen the broken boy trying to please his father, who seemed to never think he was enough. Thunder remembers holding him close to her while he broke down after a particular harsh phone call.

“I’m sorry.”, he had whispered so softly that she had nearly not heard it, but he was wrapped in her arms, so she caught the quiet words.

“Why are you sorry Jake?”, she let go of him to look into his green eyes that always managed to pull her in, he sniffed softly, and she took his cheeks softly trying to reassure him.

“You deserve better than this, I’m a mess.”, she couldn’t believe what he was saying, that man that had been by her side through rough patches, had listened to her story and reassured her that she was worth far more than she thought was telling her that he wasn’t worth it.

“Jake listen to me.”, she made him look into her eyes and she could see tears forming in his eyes.

“You are not a mess, do you understand? You are the man that showed me how worth it love is, letting your guard down even though it could hurt you so much. Sure, you are cocky, but you can back it up goddamnit.”, Jake lets out a teary laugh and she brings his forehead against hers.

“You are so much more than you think you are, and I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to have you by my side. I love you, Jake Seresin.”, the pilot looked surprised at her words, but a tender smile appeared on his lips.

“I love you too.”, she feels her heart explodes in her chest of love that she feels for this man.

“I’ll love you through the hard times and through the easy ones, and I’ll be by your side and there to support you through every single thing in your life. I’m so proud of you Jake. And maybe your family can’t see it now, but I’ll make sure that everyone can see the amazing man that you are.”, Jake choked on a sob before bringing her closer to him, letting the words settle in his mind.

Meeting her family after that night seemed like the logical step to take, she could see that he was stressed at the idea, but she could see that he was excited. The barbecue had been better than she expected even with the age-old tension between Jake and Bradley. She never understood what had the two boys in such a disagreement, but she hoped that they could mend fences.

She was looking at Jake talking with her father and her uncles about a certain move that he had seen, and she couldn’t stop smiling at the sight.

“He looks like he’s fitting right in.”, she chuckled at Rooster’s words before looking at him, he had a tense smile.

“He is, I’m glad.”, she can’t help but look back at Jake with a bright grin not seeing Rooster looking at her with sad eyes.

“Are you alright? You seemed in a trance.”, Bradley clears his throat but it’s like the words were stuck in his throat the moment he saw her look back towards Hangman.

“Yeah, just glad to see you so happy.”, a blush formed on her cheeks and Bradley wanted to trail his fingers over it but stopped himself.

“I am happy, I didn’t expect to meet someone at Top Gun you know?”, Bradley nods and she has a shy smile.

“But he came into my life like a flash of thunder and now I don’t know what I would do without him.”, she is looking at Jake again who seems to have seen them together and is frowning before flashing them a big grin.

“You deserve this, having the fairy tale ending.”, she laughs at his words and Bradley wants to make her laugh again, see her bright smile, and hear her joyful laughter.

“You said you wanted to talk to me.”, she is looking at him with worried eyes and Bradley had been ready to tell her that he loves her, that he probably has since a long time but only realized it recently.

“Oh, yeah that – it’s not important, in fact I forgot about it.”, she shakes her head chuckling and looking at him with a fond smile.

“I think he needs you to save him from a long conversation with your father.”, she looks alarmed at the sight of her father going towards Jake at the refreshment table and she tells him a quick thank you before running towards Jake.

She once again misses the heartbroken look on his eyes as he watches her laugh at something Jake says. He knew that he ruined his chance back then, you were happy and that was all that mattered. He rememberes his mom telling him that if you love someone you want them to be happy and that’s all he could want for her, and if Jake was her happiness, then he would put his feelings away. Happy that she was happy even though it was with another, but at least she had that bright smile again and sparkling eyes.

She hugs him tight as her and Jake leave, telling him to not be a stranger before letting Jake take her to the car. Maverick comes next to him and brings him in a side hug.

“You did the right thing.”, he nods slowly before leaving towards his room not able to hide the tears any longer.

I'm not sure if there should be another part or if I end it here but I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

#top gun imagine #top gun x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster fanfic #rooster fanfiction #rooster x y/n #rooster x you #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x you #jake seresin x you #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x reader

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dilf-rights-activist · 10 months

Text

Another Life: part 1

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gender neutral reader

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is the founder and CEO of one of the largest tech companies in the world. All the money in the world can’t buy love, something that Miguel so desperately needs, and the one thing that he could never afford. Or, the one where Miguel gets dumped by his freeloader partner and can only find solace in you, a down on your luck student with sweet drinks and an even sweeter smile.

Word count: 2k

Content: eventual sugar daddy AU, slow burn, coffee shop/bars, no use of (y/n), descriptions of financial hardship, Miguel is tired and is going through a break up (aw)

AO3 part 2 part 3 part 4

Miguel sighed as he watched the car of yet another failed relationship leave his property. He took a moment to wish his former lover well before closing the door, mechanical lock whirring quietly as it slid into place. The large man scrubbed a hand over his face before looking at the large boxes that littered his home, there was still a lot of unpacking to be done. He recently moved to a lavish penthouse in the Upper East Side to be closer to his office. He decided to indulge himself by going on a couple of dates with a number of (whom he formerly thought were) nice people. He thought it would have been different after his move, but every relationship he entered ended the exact same way. Being the CEO of a prolific tech company came with a number of risks, but it also came with a lot of money.

He sighed. A lot of money.

It was the same thing time after time, Miguel would meet an amazing person and spoil them rotten with anything they wanted; clothes, jewels, food, you name it. One week turned into two, into three, into months, enraptured in an unrequited embrace, only for him to find out that they were only using him for his wealth. He allowed himself to be manipulated by the charming smiles and whispers of his lovers, wanting so badly to believe that they deserved everything in the world. Desperate for anything to assuage the dark void that was slowly burrowing its way into his chest.

He needed a drink.

---

A sigh escaped your lips as you approached the end of your shift. It had been busy today at the bar; between running around serving tables and making drinks at the bar you barely had time to think. You were bussing one of the last remaining tables, figuring you’d get an early start on cleaning for the night. You picked up an empty glass, smiling to yourself; there were only 30 minutes left until closing, no customers left, and you could already hear your bed calling your name. You hummed softly, nothing could spoil your mood now.

“Hello. Table for one, please.” a quiet man said as he walked into the bar.

The glass in your hand almost shattered with the sheer force of your frustration alone.

A tall brunette man shuffled through the door of your workplace, ducking slightly as he did so. His broad frame filled out the entryway in its entirety, waiting politely. He glanced around the dim space, just now starting to notice the sheer lack of patrons and music.

“Shit, are you closed? I can go somewhere else,”

You checked your watch, 29 minutes to go.

Goddamnit.

“No, please. Come in,” You said in your best customer service voice, hoping you didn’t sound as tired as you felt. You were half hoping that the man would reject your invitation and walk out the door, never to be seen again.

He did not.

The man nodded and slowly made his way to sit at the bar,the poor stool squeaked dangerously under his weight.

“What can I get started for you, sir?” you wore an easy smile, looking to get this guy out as soon as possible.

He nodded as he settled into his seat. “What would you recommend?”

“That depends, how much are you hurting?” You took a brief moment to look at the brunette before glossing over the wide array of bottles you kept behind the bar.

“I’m not-“

“You walked in to drink at a random bar at 11:30 pm on a Tuesday. Men like you don’t do that unless they’re hurting.” You set down a bottle of whiskey onto the bar and threw him a crooked smile.

Large shoulders slumped as the man grimaced. “That obvious?”

“Just a little,” You held a glass up to the light to inspect it for spots before putting it on a napkin in front of the brunette before you. You uncapped the whiskey with ease and poured the amber liquid into the crystal glass, making sure to give the man a little extra for his troubles. “Wanna talk about it?” you asked, still working on his drink.

He chuckled softly, “What’s to tell? I just got dumped.”

You winced as you dropped a couple of ice cubes into his glass. “Ouch. I’m sorry.”

He held up a large hand. “Don’t be. It would have never worked out anyway.”

“Oh yeah?” you raised an eyebrow while peeling an orange “Why’s that?”

“That’s just how it is with me.” he said softly. You stopped working to look at him properly. His eyes were obscured by the shadows cast by the harsh contours of his face, but even in the dim light of the bar you could tell that they were a deep shade of crimson. His eyes held so much sadness in them, seeming to be permanently downcast.

Miguel was never one to talk about his issues, much less to a stranger, but tonight was different. He would allow himself to wallow just this once, to indulge in the cliché that is the sweet pity of a kind bartender.

“Y’know how it is. Get someone, and they’re really great. Until they aren’t.” he gave a half hearted laugh. “People just use me for...entertainment.”

You looked up at him, in awe at just how small the man managed to look at that moment. You garnished his drink with a curled orange peel and set it down on the bar. “Well, mister…”

“O’Hara.” he said. “Miguel O’Hara.”

“Well, Mister O’Hara, if I may be so bold. Every person who’s ever used you is an absolute shit bag and they don’t deserve your kindness. You’re on your way to bigger and better things and they’ll be sorry.” you smiled as you pushed his drink forward. “Old Fashioned.”

Miguel’s eyes fell from your smiling face to the golden drink in front of him. He didn’t typically drink an Old Fashioned, always thought they were too sweet.

“Thanks.” he smiled at you, the glass looked comically small in his large hands as he gingerly took a sip. Thick brows raised and he hummed softly, pleasantly surprised by the complexity of the complimenting flavors.

“Not bad.” He murmured into his glass before gently rolling it in between his palms. “What’s your name?”

“You’re gonna have to take me out if you wanna find that out, big guy.” You winked at him and he abruptly stopped fiddling with his glass, eyes widening comically.

“I-”

“I’m kidding!” you laughed at his reaction and told him your name. He went silent at the sound of it and repeated it to himself.

“What a nice name.” Miguel smiled while working on his drink.

“Thanks, it’s the only one I got.” you flashed him a grin and leaned on the bar. You were actually starting to enjoy his company, it’s a shame that he’d have to leave in a couple of minutes.

Before long Miguel finished his drink and thanked you for your service. He left a generous tip before saying one last goodbye over his shoulder. You waved him off before locking the door behind him, paying little mind to the strange feeling in your chest.

---

You flinched as your alarm clock rang on your bedside table. You turned your stiff neck to squint at the time; 5:45 am, you couldn't afford to press snooze again. You sighed heavily before turning the alarm off, turning to stare up at your cracking ceiling. Did you really need this job? Really and truly? What if you could just get 5 more minutes of sleep…

You glance at the clock again. 5:47. Now you really couldn't afford to stay in bed. You swung your legs over the side of the mattress, bristling slightly when your socked feet touched the cold ground. You went to the bathroom and took a brief moment to observe your reflection in the mirror, noting how the dark circles under your eyes made you look like a deranged racoon. Good. You thought, squeezing out some toothpaste. Maybe customers will be too scared to bother me today. After getting dressed you jogged down the stairs to get to your second job, a quaint cafe nestled in New York City’s East Village. You braced yourself during your commute, you would be facing the morning rush of caffeine starved corporate zombies that came in every weekday. You sighed, blowing air into your cold hands to warm them up a little.

“Hopefully they'll tip a little more this time” you thought wistfully as you walked into the subway station.

---

You let yourself in through the alleyway entrance of the cafe, sighing as you smelled baking bread.

“You’re late!” your boss half yelled from behind the counter. You shot him a wry smile and shrugged as you clocked in.

“Only by-” you glanced at your phone, “ten minutes!” you winced, maybe you should have jogged those last couple of blocks.

Peter B. Parker pouted at you and leaned against the clear dessert display case. “Whatever! Just help me prep, I have a feeling the rush is gonna be real bad.” You hanged your coat in the back hallway and winced, you really did feel bad about being late. Peter ran the cafe with his Aunt May, a fierce, kind woman who never hesitated to give you free desserts whenever you saw her.

You tore open a bag of coffee beans and grimaced, it was midterm season at the local universities, which meant that sleep deprived student after sleep deprived student would come in to get their hourly dose of caffeine. You bit your lip nervously as you thought about that huge essay you had yet to start for your own classes. You poured the beans into the espresso machine, half mindedly listening to the sounds as they filled up the small container.

You couldn’t go to school if you didn’t work, and you couldn’t work if you had to study! You were pulled out of your thoughts as you realized that you were now spilling coffee beans all over the bar. You swore quietly, working frantically to fix your mistake.

“You okay?” Peter asked from where he was stuffing napkins into a dispenser. You carefully scooped the remaining coffee beans into your hand and threw them away in a nearby compost bin.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Nice! Look alive, sunshine! We’re opening in 10.”

---

Miguel’s large hand rubbed at his tired eyes on his morning commute to the temporary office he’d be inhabiting until the construction on his new building was finished. He swallowed and looked at his phone, blinking at the time.

“6:30?” he muttered to himself, slowing his brisk walk to a slow stride. He didn't have to be at the office for another thirty minutes. Miguel adjusted the scarf on his neck as a movement caught his eye, he turned his head to see a tired looking man flip over a sign in the window of a nearby building to read “OPEN” in cute cursive letters. They made brief eye contact and the man in the window smiled and waved at him.

Miguel smiled and raised a hand in greeting, dark eyes looking up to read Cafe May above the window. Coffee, huh? He smiled lightly to himself, he supposed he could grab a couple of drinks for him and his employees, he did have the time to spare after all.

Miguel was just about to make a detour into the cute coffee shop he had discovered before his phone rang obnoxiously in his hand. Furrowing his brows, he looked down at the caller ID: Jessica Drew.

Shit.

Jessica wouldn’t call him if she didn’t have a reason for it. Miguel closed his eyes and sighed, he just wanted a quiet morning with coffee! Clearing his throat, he braced himself as he accepted the call.

“Hi, Jess.”

“Good morning, Miguel. Where are you?”

The brunette grimaced, right to the point. “East Village. Was there something you needed?” He heard the ruffling of papers and a small hum on the other line.

“Yeah. Tony Stark wants to hop on a video call within the hour to update you on the research he’s been running for the Arc Reactor.”

Large shoulders slumped as Miguel let out a small sigh. “Within the hour, huh?” He glanced at the warm cafe forlornly before making his way down the street towards the office.

“I’m on my way.”

Notes: Please do not talk to me about NYC geography, i looked at a map and nothing is consistent in my story lmao. I know Miguel is pretty OOC in this. He (at least in atsv) is not this kind, patient, or gentle. But he is sad! And that’s what they both have in common :) I think he was a geneticist in the comics, so he’d more than likely be running a lab or a bio tech company but…hey. I’ve released the second chapter to this story, but am unsure if I will continue, I guess it depends on how these first two parts are received. Thank you for reading, please lemme know what you think (if you want)

#miguel x reader #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x you #miguel o’hara x you #across the spiderverse fanfiction #sugar daddy au #coffee shop au #this was so embarrassing to tag its like I’m categorically facing my sins #fic: another life #writing

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30-3am · 2 years

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Me again with a new smut idea if it's OK for you? What about first time in bed with 2022 James? Something like new girlfriend, a bit younger than him, dating for a while and a bit stressed cause never been with someone as experienced as him... Hope you'll like it, thanks so much <3

𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒?

pairing: James Hetfield x Fem!Reader

warnings: Smut, The usual shit, I tried to lay off the pet names but that's impossible, Modern-day James

summary: Request

word count: 1763

A03 LINK

✧˖*°࿐

Your back hit the wall as James fervently kissed down your neck. Your hands were in his hair, tugging at the roots; eyes shut and heart beating fast.

Your stomach was twisting with nervousness and arousal and the combination made you feel sick.

“James,” you said, trying to get his attention. He hummed against your skin, sucking and biting at your neck. “I don’t…” you trailed off, unsure of yourself.

He disconnected himself from you, sensing your unease.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He held your face in his hands, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. His eyes were warm and accommodating and you wondered how you possibly could deserve someone like him. “Tell me.” His voice was soft and you smiled slightly, the comfort he brought you overwhelming.

“I’m just-,” you looked away, a mixture of embarrassment and disappointment clouding your judgment.

“Hey, look at me,” he urged you to face him, stroking your cheeks affectionately. “If you don’t want to, we won’t.”

You shook your head.

“No, I want to.” Your face burned. “It’s just that I’ve only ever been with shitty college boys who don’t know what they’re doing and you’re…” You chose your words carefully. “I’m just a little nervous.” He smiled down at you, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

“I’ll take care of you.” He kissed you again. “I promise.” James pulled you toward him, breasts flush against his chest as he pressed his mouth against yours, hands trailing down to rest on the small of your back.

His tongue slipped inside of you and your pussy throbbed with arousal. You involuntarily let out a moan and you could feel James smiling against your lips.

He trailed his fingers up your back, never breaking the kiss. He found the zip of your dress and tugged on it, fingers brushing the bare skin, the cold making you arch your back. He groaned as your hips pressed into his crotch.

Suddenly, he pulled away from you, hands on your shoulders. He looked down on you, pupils were blown wide.

He slipped a strap off your shoulder, the rough pads of his fingers a stark contrast against your soft skin. Then, he pulled the other one off, the dress falling slightly. He guided the fabric off you, going so slowly. You knew he was teasing.

The dress pooled at your feet, cold air hitting you. He stopped to admire you, mouth slightly parted as his eyes scanned your half-naked body.

“Goddamnit, you’re gorgeous.” You found yourself smiling, confidence spreading through you because of his affirmation. He stepped towards you, placing his hands on your waist.

You felt so small next to him, his large stature completely enveloping you each time he held you.

“So, so gorgeous.” He kissed you again, grabbing a handful of your ass as he blindly guided you toward the bed.

The back of your knees hit the edge.

James pulled away from you, lips swollen. “Lie down, honey.” You felt the same nervousness from before entering you, stomach twisting. Obviously, James noticed. He always seemed to know exactly what you were thinking. “I’ll take care of you.”

He repeated the same words from before, a serious look gracing his face.

You nodded.

James’ eyes remained on you as you sat down, making yourself comfortable in the middle of the bed.

“There you go,” you heard him mutter.

He walked to the foot of the bed, pulling his shirt off. The sight made you clench your legs together, the ache between your legs painful. The bed shifted as he made his way over to you.

His leg was in between yours, thigh brushing against your clothed pussy. You arched your back, mouth parting at the contact.

“Sensitive little thing aren’t you?” He pushed his thigh against you again, breathy moans leaving your mouth. He brushed your hair away from your face, kissing your jaw. His hands moved around to your back, unclasping your bra. You let him remove it, helping him guide the fabric down the length of your arms. You clung to his back, pulling him into your bare chest. Your nipples rubbed against him and the feeling made you mewl, back arching to win even more contact.

He stopped kissing your neck and instead started to attack your breasts, sucking and biting at the flesh. You whimpered, holding onto him as he continued.

“Jamie, please,” you begged, the occasional brush of his thigh against your pussy not enough to satiate the ache you felt.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” He kissed up to your neck again.

“You,” you whimpered. “I want you.”

You felt him groan against your skin and he wasted no time reaching in between the two of you and tugging at his belt buckle. He pulled away from you to take off his pants, the warmth he radiated being replaced with the cold of the room. You wanted him back - desperately.

You could see the outline of his dick through his boxers and you licked your lips in anticipation. James leaned over you again, kissing from your lips down to your stomach. And then he stopped. You could feel his heavy breathing against your cunt, his fingers against your hips.

“I’ll take care of you,” he murmured before hooking his fingers into the hem of your panties and hastily pulling them down your legs. “Jesus Christ, honey.” His hands snaked around to grip your waist. “Gonna be the death of me. So fucking pretty and wet.” He trailed a finger up your slit, circling your clit.

You moaned, bucking your hips. You heard James muttering something under his breath before pulling away, the loss of contact making you whine.

“Don’t be like that,” he scolded. “We’ve got time for that later.” He was looking down on you, making you feel so small. You bit your lip, the need for release growing greater.

He kneeled at the foot of the bed, slipping his hand into his underwear and pulling his hard cock free. God, you could’ve moaned at the sight. The tip was swollen and red, beads of pre-cum leaking from it. He was big. Bigger than you’d had before and you couldn’t help but feel the sickening nerves again.

He pulled his underwear off completely, leaving both of you naked and vulnerable. He came to hover over you again, kissing your lips.

“You’re okay,” he said, sensing your nervousness and you wished that he couldn’t read you so well. He reached between you, finding your clit and circling it. Your eyes closed and you reclined into the pillows. “That’s it, pretty girl, relax.”

His words made your nerves cease, your head falling back as the head of his cock brushed against your cunt.

“You ready?” He asked, and you opened your eyes to look at him.

You nodded, muttering a small “yes”.

He smiled reassuringly, lining himself up with your entrance. James sunk into you slowly, whispering comforting words into your ear. You felt the stretch as he pushed in further, the burn as he connected with yours. Your back arched and your jaw went slack.

“You look so pretty like this,” he slowly started to thrust into you. “My cock inside you. If you could see yourself,” he let out his own groan. “Fucking gorgeous.”

You tangled your hands into his hair, tugging at it as a form of support. His arms were on either side of your head, his thrusts deep and slow. You could only focus on the pleasure imbuing your body, your ears ringing as his pace quickened.

“Fuck, James,” you cried out, clawing at his back.

“That’s it, baby. Take my cock. Such a fucking good girl.” You could tell he was losing it, his speech becoming slurred as he desperately pounded into you. The noises coming from your pussy were obscene, wetness dripping down your thighs.

You’d never been so overcome with pleasure before and a new feeling was blossoming. It felt unbelievably good and you didn’t want it to stop. Moans spilled from your mouth, James muttering profanities as he desperately kissed your lips. He cradled your head with his hand, pulling at your hair.

“Is my girl gonna cum?” He asked, thrusting into you, sweat forming on his forehead. You cried out as he found that sweet spot inside of you, pleasure forming in the pit of your stomach.

You could only respond with more moans, James’ hand trailing down your stomach to toy with your clit.

“James,” his thrusts were becoming sloppy. “I-,” you couldn’t form any words, the pleasure overwhelming as you came, the world around you falling on deaf ears. James was still inside you, gripping your hips hard and leaving bruises on your skin.

“Fuck me,” he groaned and with one final thrust, he came as well, cum mixing with your own and coating your walls. He gripped at the sheets, head falling onto your neck.

He stayed inside you until he was soft, his body limp and fragile as he eventually pulled out. Your eyes were still closed, bringing your thighs together - the aftershocks were slightly painful.

James was lying beside you, recovering from his own orgasm. You must’ve laid there for a couple minutes, basking in comfortable silence before you felt the bed shift and James leave for the bathroom.

You heard him rustling around, the tap turning on. The light flicked off and he came back into the bedroom, holding a wet flannel. You were confused at first. No other guy had cared this much after you’d slept with them.

“What’s that for?” You asked and James smiled at your naivety, trying to hold back his anger at the thought no one had treated you this well before.

“Gotta clean you up, baby.” He sat down on the bed again, opening your legs to wipe you clean. You whimpered slightly when he accidentally brushed your still-sensitive clit and James apologised softly, kissing you.

Once he had finished, he went back to the bathroom again, throwing the flannel carelessly into the sink.

And finally, his attention could be on you. He pulled the covers back, inviting you under them. You accepted, pulling the soft fabric up to your neck. He followed you shortly after, opening his arms and letting you nuzzle inside his warm embrace.

He kissed your head, praising you by telling you how good you were for him.

“We can do that again right?” You asked, head pressed into his chest. He chuckled and trailed shapes into your waist.

“I didn’t even think that was a question.”

#james hetfield #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield smut #metallica #metallica x reader #x reader #smut #james my beloved

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