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politemenacephd · 3 months

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A Labor of Love (+18)

Blue Collar!Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader

Content: Workplace Sex, Edging/Orgasm denial, Messy Blowjob, PinV Sex, Creampie, Joint Orgasm.

Word count: 1802 Notes: Forgive me this is Very indulgent, my big dumb gay husband is an engineering apprentice, he used to be a mechanic too and I'm a little loopy rn for big dudes in work overalls. Let me have this pls

‘Shh, shh, quiet- babe, quiet, mm—’

You jolted as Miguel’s lips hit yours, the larger man ravenously bending your spine as he explored your mouth. Hiding out in his workshop round back, with his gloved hands on your waist and his body on yours, you were in quite the precarious situation.

You’d come into Miguel’s work to drop off his lunch because he’d forgotten to take it in, something you blamed yourself for. After all, you had been the one distracting him that morning, with your fingers in his hair and around his cock, teasing that big naked hunk until he mewled.

He’d left you an unfulfilled mess when he was eventually forced to run so he wasn’t late, your hand sticky with cum and your hair dishevelled from being pulled, and while he’d kissed you goodbye you couldn’t stand to be left alone until the evening.

You were so hot. Your clit was left throbbing, swollen and sensitive, almost painfully so.

You tried to work it out yourself, but it wasn’t the same. You missed him too much. His chiselled face, his round almond eyes, the thick, dark hair that covered him from his head to his chest to his belly. His body the perfect balance of muscle and fat, his skin dark and calloused and scarred, musky and hot.

You’d just wanted to see him. Really, that was all. You just wanted a glimpse of your beautiful man, lounging against the wall in his messy, grease covered overalls, the fabric straining against the contours of his upper body, his thickset jaw smeared with dirt because he kept forgetting to wash his hands.

You wanted to see him smile, his red eyes gleaming with joy at the sight of his little house pet.

So, with his food in your bag, you’d gone to his workplace. He worked nearby as one of Alchemax’s mechanical engineers. He was easy to find in the workshops round back, either soldering something huge or recklessly cutting metal without cover.

You’d expected him to be happy to see you, but you’d underestimated just how much joy the sight of you would spark.

It was your fault, he whispered as he dragged you into the back, for coming over dressed like that. You hadn’t thought anything of it yourself. What, your favourite jumper and slacks? You weren’t trying to provoke his eye.

But that was just it. His sweet, precious little thing, all bundled up in your favourite clothes, so soft and innocent. How could he not indulge? How could he not slip you aside, promising the guys he’d be right back, only to throw you on his work bench and rip up that cute little jumper?

You lost all of your inhibitions with that brute between your legs, gently grinding your body into the hard wooden table while his tongue bullied yours. You began urgently pushing his hands down to towards your spread thighs.

‘Babe, I can’t- do that’ he grunted between kisses, ‘my fingers— I, fuck—Mm—I’m too messy—’

‘Please’ you whined. ‘Please, please—’

‘Ay por Dios—you’re such a brat, aren’t you?’

With a soft grunt he withdrew from the kiss and raised his gloved hand to his mouth, his thick canines easily tearing the leather. He tore it aside and spat it out.

‘Here, fuck—’

You felt his hard, calloused hands shove your thighs aside, and soon he was massaging your clit through your slacks. You shivered and melted at the sweet relief.

He’d only had the forethought to gruffly brush his hands on his work clothes before playing with you, and you could see the little imprints of soldering dirt on your newly washed clothes. You didn’t care at all.

‘I missed you so much baby’ he grunted.

His full lips hit your neck and sucked hard, his teeth pulling at the skin until it stung. You whimpered.

‘Ah- c-careful, they’ll hear.’

Miguel pulled back and kissed your ear before whispering. ‘Guys are soldering. They won’t hear shit, mi amor, you’re safe with me.’ The brush of his breath on your ear made you quiver. ‘Besides, they know not to fuck with me. They’ll keep their mouths shut.’

He smelled so strong, like machine oil and musk and hot denim, with just the soft underlying scent of that sandalwood soap you’d got him. He used it on everything, even his hair, which you knew because you were now frantically burying your face into his thick locks to muffle your moans.

'Okay, okay, just—I’ll make it a quicky, okay?’ he murmured.

With frantic motions he pulled off his work overalls, letting you gawk momentarily at the flash of his physique. He forced his slacks down and let his erect cock fall out.

You were transfixed by the way it twitched, straining for attention, thick and fat and surrounded by dark hair, just like the rest of him.

‘Your mouth, baby, since you were so worried about being heard’ he whispered while gesturing for your face, his mouth now drawn up into a breathless and teasing smile. You couldn’t help yourself.

With a soft whine you shuffled from the desk and onto your knees, down on the hard floor. You cast him one quick look before sliding his shaft between your lips.

‘Mm—fuck, that’s it’ he sighed. His voice was so low, so gruff, as was his hand as it began to tangle itself into your hair. He pulled it tight, just the way you liked. ‘Come on baby, that’s it.’

His shaft pushed your jaw to its limits as he eased it down to your throat.

He was still sweaty, still hot from work, but you didn’t care. It made it better. You let him push you until you were almost choking.

‘Yeah, babe, that’s it. You know what to do.’

There was nothing like surrendering to his hand and catching his eye as he pumped into your mouth. There was no better feeling than his affectionate smile, or his thumb and forefinger griping your chin, knowing that his pre-cum was coating your throat. It was all you could taste.

He could feel the urge to cum in your mouth. It was a heavy temptation, the idea of seeing your eyes widen as you swallowed his load, your little thighs shaking as it dripped down your face.

But he could never be satisfied with just that. You’d shown up, looking all cute and coy, distracting him from his work, and he wouldn’t be happy until you left with your little legs stuck together.

With a gentle grunt he tugged your hair, pulling you back. His cock slid from your mouth with a soft, wet pop, leaving a messy trail of glimmering fluid between your lips and his member.

‘Okay, up’ he barked in a whispered shout, ‘get up. On the bench for me, baby.’

You scrambled to do as told, and the moment your ass hit the flat top his hands were on your slacks. He ripped them down to your ankles but left your panties on. He opted to just pushed them aside with his thumb instead, all while his other hand wrenched your ankle up and aside. He spread you easily.

‘M-Mig’ you panted.

He didn’t answer. He pulled you forward until your back was on the bench, your legs spread around his small waist. He gave a satisfied snort as he realized it was the perfect height. You watched, breathless, as his thick member began gently nudging at your creamy little cunt. It felt so warm.

‘Mig’ you repeated.

‘Quiet baby, and I’ll give you what you wanted’ he cooed. You obediently pursed your lips.

With a hefty grunt he pushed in hard. He slid in easy despite the size, slipping his shaft right up until it kissed your cervix. You had to cover your own mouth to hide the screams. You could feel the strength in his body as he bottomed out, his balls pressed hard against your ass.

‘Fuck- fuck that’s it.’

With a harsh grunt he started to move. He was so fucking rough, with his sharp hips pulsing between your thighs and his hand squeezing your ankle until it hurt. The wet clap of his body hitting yours began to fill the quiet little workshop.

Miguel bent back to watch his cock impale you. Thin strings of your thick slick were hanging from his hair and your pussy in delicious little pearly decorations. He pumped hard, once, in just the right way to make more sweet fluid spill out. It oozed around the edge of his shaft, betraying just how tightly packed you were.

‘You were real desperate, huh baby?’ he panted.

Your panties, still being held to the side by his thumb, were soon utterly soaked. You could feel the thin strip of fabric chaffing your inner thigh as each sharp thrust caused it to rub and shift.

‘Desperate little brat, that’s what I like. That’s who I want. You’re gonna get a fat fuckin’ load of my cum in you.’

You groaned, hard, and let him fuck you dumb.

You let him pound your fragile body into the hard wooden bench.

You let him coat you in his greasy fingerprints from head to toe.

You let him slap your thigh until it jiggled, and most of all, you let him utterly ruin your desperate cunt with his hefty cock. You felt every inch as it stuffed you, stretched you, making you his.

Each hard pump was fucking away that ache, that burning need, and each bite of his lip was making you see stars. You heard his men calling from the other shop, and god knows you didn’t care one bit.

You felt that sweet release starting to build.

‘Mmmf—mmmf—’

You frantically clawed at his thick, hairy arms, trying to signal you were close. You saw his lip curl as he started to pump harder.

‘Fuck—that’s it, come on babe, cum on my cock. Do it for me.’

He dropped your panties and gently licked his thumb before pressing it down on your clit, carefully nudging that swollen nub to completion. He was so rough, so hard, but that was enough to tip you over.

When you came, he came with you. You screamed into your hand as he groaned out load, your cunt clenching his shaft tight until you could feel every vein and every inch of skin. He filled you up quick, smothering your pulsing insides with rope after rope of thick, virile cum, so warm and soothing on your pussy.

He pumped it as deep as he could before letting his body relax. He held himself inside you, his huge palm gently patting your ass. After giving himself a few moment to recuperate, he bent down to whisper in your ear once more.

‘Get yourself home safe baby, okay? And be ready, ‘cos as soon as I get off, your ass is mine again.’

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #spider man 2099 #smut #18+ only #miguel o'hara smut #atsv miguel

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irishmammonagenda · 1 month

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“What do you think you’re doing?” The Avatar of Gluttony says, uncharacteristically angry, demon form out, bhí a sciatháin ildaite ag bualadh go feargach.

You’re trembling still, the previous altercation sparking in your nerves, although, cool, refreshing relief courses through your veins as you look up at the redhaired Demon.

Beel’s eyes. That was all you could look at. You had seen a plethera of emotions painted in his purple pupils, most commonly serenity, or joy, hunger or thirst, less commonly sadness poisoned his expression, rarely anger, annoyance yes, the expression he’d make before he went on a rampage that was a mix between hunger and anger, yes. But you’d never seen the pure unbridled fury ablaze in his eyes like you were seeing right now.

Not directed at you, never at you. Rather directed at the demon who had tried to give you a beating; Beel had stumbled upon it whilst looking for his twin, and A Thiarna is a Dhia, was he furious. You shivered, it was a scary sight.

Iridescent ildaite wings buzz angrily. The air is thick, Beel runs his tongue over his fangs threateningly, staring menacingly at the demon, who, gaining its senses, flees, tail between its legs. Beel lets it run, having a longtime learned from Lucifer how to play an cluiche cleasach.

Besides, letting the demon wallow in its fear for a while would make it taste a lot better when he disposed of the threat.

He wouldn’t tell you that, though, to protect your soft, pure, sparkling human soul.

Leaving you alone with a seething Demon, you trembled. Normally, you would trust Beelzebub with your life, but the sheer power buzzing around him paired with the rage doused you in icy cold water, a strong reminder that your reisdent softy was ifnfact capable of horrors beyond you comprehension.

You whimper, Beel snaps his head towards you in an instant, the fury in his eyes softening. Suddenly, his hands are on you, pulling you into strong arms. You shake involuntarily.

Beel coos at you in a language long dead, the syllables are harsh and guttural, like waves crashing into the shore. A huge hand comes up to pet your hair, so gentle it almost hurts.

You stay there for a while, in that empty classroom, enveloped in Beel’s arms. Slowly but surely you lean into his touch, your heartrate calmed, your head resting against his muscled chest, it was silly to think even for a moment that he would hurt you, laughable even.

divider by @saradika-graphics

dia daoibh (hello to you [plural]) grma for reading as per usual 🫶🫶, heres the meanings of the words:

‘A Thiarna is a Dhia’ (A year-nah is a Yee-ah’) is a way of saying, ‘Goodness Gracious’/‘Good God’ etc

as per usual I cant write pronounciations😔

‘An Cluiche Cleasach’ (An Clue-Heh Clah-Sa) -The Sneaky Game’, bc i have no idea how to say the long game in irish and cluiche fada sounds wrong.

Now for the big one😰:

‘bhí a sciatháin ildaite ag bualadh go feargach.’

(pronounced: Vee ah Scee-ah-han ill-dat-che egg beh-whale-oo go fair-eh-gawk’)

as per usual the ‘k’ sound in feargach is pronounced with your throat, its technically right to just pronounce it ‘k’ (like the word chick in english) but its not the way native speakers pronounce it‼️

this roughly translates to: ‘His colourful wings were flapping angrily’

bualadh comes from the verb ‘buail’ which can mean a lot of things, but paired with ‘ag’ and ‘sciatháin’ it means ‘flapping wings’

heres a photo of me trying to explain it, please ignore my handwriting i tried to make it neat😔✊

#also i have an ask im working on and im actually really enjoying writing it #for anyone wondering i like to add 🇮🇪 words in my fics/drabbles bc i can and i want to #i cant speak fluently but i can get by; i like getting to hopefully teach yousens some words and revise my own vocab #bc in my opinion languages should be shared; irish is a class language as well so (im biased)#obey me imagines #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me headcanons #omswd #obey me mc #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel x reader #beelzebub x reader #om! beelzebub #om! beel x reader #obey me drabble

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sapphireandange · 8 days

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Sunshine rain!

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Paring: artist!reader x gojo

Synopsis: on the first day of spring, the cheery blossoms started to bloom, but so did your heart for a certain someone

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The warm wind of spring tossled the small petals of cheery blossom. The gentle strokes of paintbrush were giving colour to the blank canvas. The red and yellow hues blended together to form a beautiful vex of sunset. But still, you weren't satisfied.

It wasn't that the sunset was flawed, it was nice, it's just, you were burnt out from drawing. You wanted motivation, you wanted something to spark the creativity in your system. You wanted to draw because you feel joy in it, not drawing for the sake of it. But right now, you just wanted to wrap up the sunset.

The tubes of water colours laid around while specks of colours adorned your face. You just wanted to finish it. Wrap it up. You were about to grab the white colour tuve that then suddenly, the door opened.

Out came the most beautiful person you have seen. His platinum hair shone in the soft Sunrays peeking from the window. His cobalt blue eyes sparkled while his sunglasses rested on the bridge of the nose.

You mumbled a small "Wow..." and stared at him. He tilted his head and said causally as ever, in his velvety voice "yo, the school is about to close. You should go home"

As you were about to get up, he was right beside you, scanning the table. "May I help you?" He asked gently. You nodded shyly and he started screwing up the caps of the tubes.

You collected your brushes and washed them in the small cup of water. As the drops of water dripped down the brushes, you glanced upon him. The cool breeze brushed his hair, making it sway softly

"What's your name?" The platinum haired boy stared at you and let of a small smirk. "Satoru, Satoru Gojo". You stared at him for a few seconds. All in your head was was his soft voice and the way he looked ever so PERFECT, perfect for drawing.

"The sunset is pretty neat" you glanced at him and let out a small "Huh?" He stared back at you and giggled "Ah you know, the sunset that you drew is pretty. I like it" your cheeks quickly dusted in pink and you giggled awkwardly "Why, thank you"

He pulled out a napkin and gently wiped your cheek, which was stained in colour. "The sunset is pretty and all, but take care of your face as well. It always filled with all type of colours, like a summer rain"

You giggled and stared at the sun slowly rising down. "Well, I gotta get going, Thank you for your help" You said, looking at the clock ticking at 6. He chuckled, "Well, I am always available upto 6, so you can say hi to me whenever you see me"

Then came a voice of another two boys. Waving you goodbye, he ran off, his shadow still lingering your presence. You hoped he didn't hear your loud thumping of heart, because from now on, you find something to wake up to, to keep you motivated, and most of all, your one and only, Satoru Gojo

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Author's note: a series maybe? I kinda wanna make an au series where the reader is the lovesick one while Satoru is the one being oblivious 😭😭 thank you for reading!

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shanastoryteller · 3 months

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Happy Holidays! I hope yours are peaceful and joyous.

I would do dastardly things for more identity/porn/gender-is-a-side-dish WWX like the Lady MO story (omg or time travel!!!), but I also love love love your story about Zag and the Prince's court and him helping people 😍 (living blood?). And I also want to read more of FMA Ed in the desert evacuating people (?) and Roy expecting him to be a monster. Ugh and I was just going back through your masterlist and forgot about the series about Godric, but I can't find the name and don't want to run out of time!!! If the untamed still sparks joy, I would love to read a continuation of one of those stories!! If not... dealers choice? Thank you so much for sharing your writing with us!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4

Salazar hasn't had much interaction with the Ravenclaws. His father considers them to be old fashioned, which is the nicest way he's ever called someone poor. Salazar doesn't think the family is particularly poor, even for their status, except perhaps in relation to the level of wealth that marrying his mother gave his father access to.

Or it could be the way certain members of that family never seem to quite manage to give his mother the respect she deserves. Salazar isn't particularly inclined to judge the lot of them based on the actions of a few, but that's not a trait that he got from either of his parents.

Rowena could go either way, considering she's burst down their door and is looking to curse his best friend inside out for the great sin of giving in to his mother's desire to arrange his marriage.

As if he could have stopped her. Salazar wouldn't cross Lady Gryffindor for all the gold in his vault. Godric does it occasionally, as he is the favored son, but certainly not over something like his marriage.

He can tell by Helga's grin that she's far less wary of Rowena, but that's probably because she's delighted when someone manages to take Godric down in a fight. She's disinclined to do it herself unless he really irritates her - beating respect into him is apparently not sustainable.

Personally, Salazar has found it the quickest way to get Godric's head of his ass, but playing mediator between Godric and Helga just ends up with the both of them pissed at him. He's learned to leave them to it.

"Slytherin," Rowena says slowly and Salazar tenses, readying himself for a comment about his father and his choices, then she says, "You've been traveling with him. You know where he is then?"

If anything, Godric's been traveling with him. There are idiots looking to die on his friend's sword everywhere and the books he and Helga are hunting down are significantly harder to find.

"He's at the tournament now," Helga says. Salazar rolls his eyes. "You can probably petition to swap in for his next opponent if you have a personal grievance."

Rowena's eyes narrow. At him, for some reason, even though he hasn't even said anything. "I thought you were his second?"

"I am," he says, then waits for the comment about his scholarly reputation and lack of public duels.

"He's at the tournament," she says slowly, "and you're here."

Salazar tries to think of a way to put this delicately.

"Have you seen the idiots that live around here?" Helga scoffs. "He's not going to need a second. Frankly, he could win with only using his wand or his sword. Subjecting them to both almost seems cruel."

Ah, Helga. A lack of growing up among nobility has left her with all the subtlety of a curse between the eyes.

He wishes he didn't find it endearing, but he wouldn't get along so well with Godric or Helga otherwise.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #uggabuggawugga #harry potter

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yuikomorii · 4 months

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Happy 12th anniversary! 🎉

// I can’t believe so many years have passed since Ayato’s first CD drama, which marked the beginning of Diabolik Lovers and the introduction of my girl, Yui. Even if it got its flaws, I will continue to support this franchise! 💘

I have prepared an edit and a scenario for this special day! It's meant to be a "funny" one, so there will definitely be some cringe moments, but overall it's quite lighthearted. I sincerely hope you find it enjoyable! Besides, I had a blast writing Laito; he always channels my inner mischievousness.

Yui: Hmm… I believe I have all ingredients now!

( Come to think of it, the Sakamaki brothers are vampires but they surprisingly allowed me to celebrate Christmas this year. )

( It’s honestly so ironic that it makes me wonder whether or not they actually did it for… me? )

( A-Ah no, that’s definitely not the case! I’m probably just getting selfish at this point, but I genuinely do appreciate it. For this reason, I’ll try my best to cook all of their favorite dishes so as to show my gratitude! )

( Christmas is such a magical time of the year. It brings back memories of my father and I organizing the annual Christmas Mass together. We used to decorate the church and bake sweets for children, who were so cute when receiving them! Those were activities that truly brought joy to my heart… I sort of miss those times. )

( My father… I wonder, is he preparing for Christmas too? No, he most likely isn’t… )

( I don’t even know where he is to begin with but I truly hope he’s alright… )

( Anyway, I shouldn’t ruin the mood with those thoughts. Now that I've got everything ready for the dishes, I just need to find the right spot to hide Ayato-kun’s pre— )

Ayato: Yo, Chichinashi!

Yui: G-Geez! Ayato-kun, I told you already not to sneak up behind my back!

Ayato: Haa… Fine, fine, I’m sorry.

Yui: It’s— Eh?

( Wait a little, did he just apologize? )

Ayato: Why are you making such a dumb face? You don’t believe my words, do you?

Yui: Y-You got it wrong! It’s just that I wasn’t expecting Ayato-kun to apologize for something so trivial, you see.

Ayato: Hmm, I guess you’re not wrong. But, since Christmas is coming soon, it’d be a pity for Santa Claus to write me on the naughty list after trying to avoid it the whole year.

Yui: Naughty list…?

( Is it just me, or does Ayato-kun really believe Santa Claus will give him a present? I mean… Santa is told to only deliver them to children, and I'm not sure a 17-year-old still qualifies as one. )

( But I can’t straight up tell him that! It will only ruin the magic otherwise… Besides, when that thought crosses my mind, it somehow makes him appear so pure. )

Ayato: Hah? What are you grinning at? I swear, I've made an effort to be a good boy this year!

Yui: That’s really… amazing, Ayato-kun! I’m sure Santa will remember that!

Ayato: Heh? So you really think he’ll bring me something?

Yui: Uhm… Definitely!

( His eyes started sparking, I really can’t say “no” to that…! However, that only means I'll have to get him another gift so that he can have one from "Santa" and another one from me. )

B-By the way, I think I forgot to buy gingerbread syrup. I suppose I should leave before ——

Ayato: No, no, I’ll go!

Yui: You will? Ah, but you don’t have to! I was the one who forgo—…!

( He’s covering my mouth! )

Ayato: Stop blabbering already! Ore-sama offered to buy it for you, so you could try being a bit more grateful!

Yui: That’s… you’re right.

( Maybe it’s for the better. This way, I'll be able to find a hiding place for the present I already have for him. )

Ayato: I’ll be right back!

—Timeskip—

Ayato: Tsk, I can’t believe that shit was out of stock!

Chichinashi will surely be disappointed, if I come home with nothing! After all, she takes all that Christmas stuff seriously…

What's worse is that I tried really hard to find it, but it was already sold out by the time I arrived!

Tsk, damn it! Why must this be so complicated!?

Laito: Well, well. Seems like Ayato-kun is quite moody today.

Ayato: Get lost you pervert, it’s none of your business!

Laito: Haa… how rude of you, Ayato-kun. And there I was actually intending to give you this, but I guess you don’t need it anymore.

Bye bye~!

Ayato: Wait… What’s that thing in your hand?

Laito: What you ask? Nfu, it’s gingerbread syrup, of course. I was able to get the last one today.

Ayato: Wha—! Oi, you better give it to me or else—

Laito: Or else what~?

Ayato: I’ll—… Nevermind.

Look, you know I’m not into cheesy stuff but Chichinashi really loves Christmas, okay? Getting that gingerbread syrup might make her happy ‘cause maybe it’d remind her of how she celebrated it with her pops. That’s why… I can’t believe I’m saying this but… give it to me, please!

Laito: Woah, it’s honesty hour, hm?

Well, whatever, I don’t really care about that gingerbread syrup anyway, so you can take it if you want to.

Ayato: Really? Gr—

Laito: You didn’t let me finish though. I will only give it to you, if you promise me something.

Ayato: Hah? What the hell is it this time!?

Laito: No need to get so worked up~. All you have to do is to ensure that Bitch-chan consumes at least one glass of syrup at the time you bring it to her.

Ayato: That’s it? Pfft, easiest task ever!

Wait… almost a bit too easy.

Oi you perv, you better not plan something behind Ore-sama’s back, understood?

Laito: Normally I would, but Christmas is just around the corner, right? Who would risk being added to the naughty list at the last minute, right?

— hands Ayato the gingerbread syrup—

Place: Living room

Ayato: Yui! Yui! I’m back and look what I found!!

Yui: Good job, Ayato-kun! Thank you so much for helping me!

Ayato: Now take a seat!

— forces her to sit down —

Yui: Eh? What’s happening?

Ayato: Nothing to worry about, just drink this!

— shoves glass of syrup down her throat —

Yui: Mmh…!!

(What on earth!? I can’t breathe—!)

— Yui swallows it —

Ayato: So~, how is it?

— Yui starts coughing —

Yui: It’s… it’s not as sweet as I remembered. This one is quite bitter.

Ayato: Bitter? Don’t spout nonsense, gingerbread can’t be bitter!

Yui: Yeah… thought so too… but..

(My head started spinning around…)

Ayato: Are you even paying attention to what I’m saying?

Yui: Uuh… Sorry, Ayato-kun, I’m suddenly feeling so dizzy…

Ayato: How—?

( The heck’s wrong with her? Is it ‘cause she swallowed that too fast or…? )

Yui: Ayato-kun…

Ayato: What’s it?

Yui: Has anyone ever told you before that you are… extremely cute?

Ayato: Hah!? I mean, yeah, but what’s up with the random confession?

Yui: Eh? Am I not allowed to compliment the most adorable boy in the whole wide world…?

Ayato: Huh—?

Yui: You see, when I look at you like that… you might not be very clear, yet I can’t help but want to protect you…

Ayato: Protect me? D-Don’t say shit like that, it should be the other way around! After all, Ore-sama is the stron—!

(She pinned me down!?)

Yui: Fufu, you’re just so funny when you praise yourself like that…!

Everything about you is so beautiful… your hard yet nicely textured hair, your jade green eyes, your long eyelashes, your ——

Ayato: Tsk, get off me!

— pushes her away —

— Yui falls down —

Yui: Ngh…!

Ayato: …!

Oi! I… I didn’t mean to! Wait, gimme your hand!

— Yui takes his hand and looks up —

Ayato: (Don’t tell me… did that push bring her back to normal? Heh, if that’s so then—)

Yui: Mistletoe…

— puts her hands on his cheeks —

Yui: Holding your face like this makes me realize how soft your cheeks are… They are so round that I wish I could give you more and more Takoyaki until they become even chubbier…!

Ayato: S-Say what—!?

( It’s not like I dislike cheeky women but she’s nuts! )

— Yui gets closer to his lips —

Ayato: …!

*Smooch*

Laito: Fufu, hahaha, look at your face!

Ayato: Oi, Laito! Don’t just stand there staring, help me!

*Smooch*

Laito: Now why would I? After all, I already did you a favor by giving you the gingerbread liquor~!

Ayato: But you— Did you just say gingerbread LIQUOR!?

*Smooch*

Laito: Ex-act-ly! I was simply curious to see what kind of ‘drunk’ Bitch-chan is, and it seems like she’s the honest and horny type.

— takes picture —

Ayato: O-Oi! Don’t you dare to send it to anyone, delete it right now!

Laito: Oh my, look at the time! Now excuse me but I have to take my leave~.

Ayato: You can’t! Save me first!

Laito: Sorry Ayato-kun, no matter how delicious it feels watching you on top of each other while making out in plain sight, I've got better things to do, so... nfu, enjoy while it lasts!

— winks and disappears —

Ayato: You… You bastard! You will pay for this, I swear you wi— Mmh… Mm!

( Now how will I get myself out of THIS situation!? )

( Ugh, that’s what happens when you try helping others. I should have learnt my lesson a long time ago! )

— Yui stops kissing —

Yui: Will Ayato-kun… suck my blood?

Ayato: …!

( Heh, suddenly this doesn’t seem half bad anymore. I might actually grow to like being desired like that~. )

#diabolik lovers #yui komori #dialovers #ayato sakamaki #my edit #ayayui #ayato x yui #admin

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loloslaystheday · 3 months

Text

Spark

pairing: rengoku kyojuro x f!wife!reader

prompt: kyojuro's excited to welcome his little girl into the family, but he never expected the emotions to hit so hard.

note: i was so unsure how to name this and i spent like 30 mins thinking of the pairing😭 im supposed to be sleeping bc i have testing tomorrow but oh well🤷🏾‍♀️

kyojuro never even thought of getting married. well... he never really even thought about it until he met you,. but to him,marriage was it.

when you asked him about having kids that was the first time he ever thought about it. he didn't really care about carrying on the family name, he had a brother and just cared about being with you.

but he would never deny his wife, who gave him everything he ever asked for, this one thing that she asked for.

he was ecstatic when you came to him with the good news; you were pregnant. he didn’t mind taking care of you at all until you had the baby. whatever you asked for he got, no questions asked.

and when the day finally came to welcome their little bundle of joy into the world, and he saw her face, and he held her in his arms, he didn’t know how hard the moment would hit him. she looked so small compared to him and it choked him up.

before he knew it, tears streamed down his face despite his fond and loving smile.

“she looks just like you.” he sniffs. you smile back at him, grabbing his free hand and squeezing it firmly.

she made small whimpers and shifted a bit. her little nose twitched with the ragged breaths and she couldn’t sit still in his arms.

he looked back up at you now. “thank you.”

you scoffed and rolled your eyes with a small laugh.

“she’s a momma’s girl.” you winked at kyojuro. “think ill be the favorite.”

“well, you are my favorite.”

“ah, so she gets it from you?” he nodded. you laughed, kissing his hand before leaning against it. “i love you.”

“i love you more.”

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jaskierx · 6 months

Text

so there's been a lot of posting about things like ofmd not being a 'kind show' and no longer being 'the queer joy show' etc etc and. i just want to remind us of where everybody is in s1's finale vs s2's

let us begin

stede: stede ends s1 on a hopeful note (setting off to go get his man) but shortly prior to that he's kind of been through it (he nearly got executed and then two different people tried to murder him). stede ends s2 on an even more hopeful note, having got his man, ready to open an inn with him. verdict: slightly better off at the end of s2

ed: ed ends s1 in absolute despair. izzy has been a real dick to ed (depending on your interpretation, he's done something ranging from being a little tiny bit mean to ed to calling him a slur and threatening to kill him, but we're not having this discourse again) so now he's back in his blackbeard persona mere days after feeling some hope that he was finally free from piracy and ready to run away with someone who loves him for who he is. the last shot we see of s1 ed is him absolutely crying his eyes out in the bed nook. it inflicts d4 psychic damage on me whenever i look at it. anyway at the end of s2 he's been on an absolute journey, he's learned that he's loved, he's free from being blackbeard, he's stood beside the man that loves him and they're going to give everything a go. verdict: significantly better off at the end of s2

stede's crew: i mean. what is there to say. at the end of s1 they've just been marooned and social order on their little island is rapidly breaking down due to buttons and roach teaming up to try and eat the swede. at the end of s2 they're happily back at sea and the swede has spanish jackie to fight off anyone who would even consider having a nibble. verdict: significantly better off at the end of s2

honourable mention - buttons: ends s1 unsuccessfully trying to eat the swede. ends s2 having fulfilled his life's dream of becoming a bird. good job buttons. verdict: slightly better off at the end of s2

ed's crew: as above, the crew end s2 happily sailing away into the literal sunset. we finish s1 with jim presumably unconscious and izzy pointing a gun at frenchie. so not an ideal situation really. fang seems to be having a good time though and ivan gets killed off between seasons (rip king) so it averages out at a slightly better rather than a significantly better. verdict: slightly better off at the end of s2

honourable mention - frenchie: ends s1 hoisting his flag at gunpoint. ends s2 captaining the bloody ship. go frenchie. we love to see it. verdict: significantly better off at the end of s2

lucius: ends s1 soggy. ends s2 not only dry, but married. verdict: significantly better off at the end of s2

izzy: ah yes this old chestnut. so. two perspectives here. one is simply that he ends s1 alive and ends s2 dead. so. possible verdict: significantly worse off at the end of s2. alternatively, he ends s1 as his classic repressed self, smiling from ear to ear because ed cut his toe off and it sparked joy, disliked by the crew, resented by ed. he ends s2 having accepted himself and having experienced all the queer joy he would never have permitted himself in s1, having experienced more screentime and growth than any other secondary character in s2 (yes he's a secondary character no i won't argue with you about this), and dies exactly as he lived - being a pirate who can pull off a plan. he gets to have his deathbed deep and meaningful conversation with ed, which brings closure to them both. he gets buried beside ed and stede's new inn, on land where his grave will be tended, having been given a nice funeral by people who once despised him. so. possible verdict: slightly better off at the end of s2. he definitely seemed happier in s2, and died at peace rather than as a frothing little ball of anger, which is more than i could've foreseen in s1.

anyway. the eagle eyed mathematicians among you will notice that even if we take it as read that izzy is significantly worse off at the end of s2...

every single other character ends s2 in a better place than where they ended s1.

ofmd is a kind show that's full to the brim of queer joy. you guys are just sad that your fave died. and that's fine. the writers did a great job creating a story with characters that were so well written that people are genuinely grieving izzy's death.

but his death does not erase the inherent kindness and joy of the rest of the show.

anyway thanks for reading. i had fun playing with the tumblr post editor settings. by which i mean changing the text colour was unreasonably difficult and now i am stressed

#ofmd #izzy hands #the izcourse #lyse.jpg

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justjams2003 · 4 months

Text

Fast Pace- 10

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', tell me if I missed any

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @dark-night-sky-99 @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae

Word count: 3,1k

Masterlist

Part 9~Part 11(coming soon)

"Carlos! Carlos! Carlos! Look! Look! Look!” Your excitement is uncontainable. There was a knock on the door early in the morning. You opened the door to a package in the hands of one of your security guards. With the name of one of the lesser-known clothing brands in Milan. You'd slept in the same bed as Carlos, and it’s brought you closer together. You jump on the bed, just barely missing his sleeping form, well, now no longer sleeping.

He doesn't even groan at your excitement. Instead, he wakes up with a smile. "Goodmorning, mi dulce niña, what has got you so riled up before 7 in the morning?” He asks, picking you up by the waist and placing you in his lap. "I got a package, see?” He rubs his eyes, now really waking up. He takes the box from your hands and reads the letter that came with.

"Dear, Y/N, we've seen your videos and would love for you to show off some of our best looks on the paddock. Gioia Bini.” He doesn't show much of a reaction, clearly though just a bluff, a wide grin covers his face. He grabs you and then pulls you close to him. His scruff tickles you as he places a thousand small kisses all over. Your neck, your shoulders, your cheeks.

You can't help but laugh, joy coursing through you. "I'm so proud of you!” His words feel like adrenaline through your bones. You can feel your childhood hopes and dreams spark alive again. This is a moment you'll be saving forever. Like a wallpaper for your mind. Because while he gives you words of praise you feel nothing but pure joy.

"Let me fit it, and you can help me chose when and which one.” The first one is that classic Ferrari read, never before have you realised how good you look in the colour. Or just how good it feels to see him look at you like that. As if you're worth a million, no, a billion dollars. The second one is a short, white dress.

"Mmh, a difficult choice. You know I love you in red, but I can't wait to see you in white.” "What?” Did he really just say that? Marriage? Yes, you're crazy about him, but you've only known him a month. But he doesn't answer. At all. He brushes it off as if he never said it. As if he meant to keep it in his mind or say it in Spanish.

He then checks his watch; he'd already gotten ready in his gym clothes. "We'll decide after the gym.” You smile and go to get ready for your everyday. "Okay, enjoy yourself,” yet before you could go change, he grabs you by the wrist. "Ah, ah, ah. You're joining me. Remember the deal?” The realisation hits you, he must be making a joke, he can't be serious.

Yet, he was dead serious about the smoking. He was dead serious about the healthy eating; you could see your hips becoming a bit softer and your legs just a bit rounder. His fingers come up to your chin and close your mouth. "You'll catch flies, why is this bothering you so much?” You rip your wrist from his hand.

"Fine.” You don't mean to sound so harsh, but you can feel the memories surfacing. You can't help but stare at yourself in the mirror. Does he not like your body? Does he want it different? Will he be taking your privilege if you don't go? You thought you were more to him? More than just a body. Is that why he won't touch you? He doesn't think your body is good enough yet?

"You're killing me,” you're heaving heavily. Squeezing your sides from the stitches as you hang over the treadmill. All while your sugar daddy and your shared personal trainer is laughing at your reaction. "You! This is all your fault. I thought you-” the word love plays on your tongue. No, he can't possibly love you. If he does, there must be something wrong with him.

"-cared for me! And now? Now you're trying to kill me.” You just barely peer over to him. He hasn't even broken a sweat and yet he's done 3 times more than you. "It's just a 10 minute run, Y/N. I understand you had that classic French diet, but we have to start somewhere.” Rupert explains, trying to encourage you.

It doesn't help, you can feel your lungs burning. But Carlos knows. He knows what motivates you, he knows what pushes your buttons. He tells Bob to go fill out your water bottle again. Then he does the same as before, lifts your chin and then brings your ear close to his mouth. "Come on, show Daddy you'll be able to keep up with me.” He shoots you a wink and before you know it, Bob is back.

Your cheeks are bright red, and you just hope and pray that the trainer will think it's from the exercise. "Alright, Rupert, peak health. As good as a high-performance athlete.” You send Carlos a wink, hoping that it has the same effect on him as it has on you. It doesn't he doesn't blush, not once, in fact his smirk grows wider.

"Carlos did what?” You bite your lip at Alexandra's reaction. "He gave me his card and told me to go shop.” Kika lets out a laugh. "We heard you; we're just shocked.” You look at the both of them, their opinions matter a lot to you. You want what they have, what they are. You want to join them on their girls-trips and always enjoy the hospitalities with them on the paddock.

"What? Does Pierre not do that?” You ask, feeling a bit like a deer caught in headlights. "I wish." She scoffs taking a sip from her drink. "Neither does Charles. I mean, he does give me presents and naturally we go on vacation together, but rarely does he just give me his card.” She still looks a bit taken back. "His Black Amex at that too.” Kika interrupts.

The realisation of just how different your relationship is hits you. You didn't think from the start that they're sugar babies, but you thought at least their boyfriends would treat them the same. Or at least, similarly. Even so, for the most part your behaviour seems more girlfriend than sugar baby. Should you be acting different?

"And the car too! Kika, did you see her car?” Alex calls out, putting down her drink. "Car?” Portuguese girl asks after swallowing her bite. Alex squeals and then pulls out her phone. At the moment, you feel like an outsider. You feel like they're gossiping about you, even if you're right next to them. She then shows Kika your Instagram, and they both swoon. Has she been watching you?

"You follow me?” She chuckles and nods, "Of course, girl, I've been stalking you since Charles told me Carlos got a new girl.” You chuckle, this all feels so schoolgirl. As if you aren't surrounded by some of the riches people on earth. "So, he's had plenty of girlfriends then?” She thinks for a moment, before backtracking on her words.

"I wouldn't call them girlfriends. They're more like flings than anything. But you... I think you're here to stay.” She takes your hands in her own. "Why do you say so.” Before she even starts speaking, she leers over her sunglasses to Brutis and Otis. "Because they've never been here before." You regret wearing the claw-clip now, because you're so ready to hide.

Kika finishes her drink, "Yeah, do they follow you everywhere?” She asks while turning back and waving to them. No reaction on their part. You sigh, letting go of Alex's hands and hiding your face. "Ugh, yes, it's Carlos' only fault. His protectiveness." Alex laughs and then shrugs. "It makes sense, the fans can be more dangerous than you realise..." It feels like the same speech he gave you.

"Yeah, didn't you see all those videos at the concerts? People are throwing things these days..." Kika agrees with Alex. If three people think the same, maybe it is logical? You haven't told Ilsa or Jasmine about them, you already know how they'll overreact.

"I guess he's just worried about me," both of the girls only hum, but like classic good friends they give each other a knowing look. "But they're not much fun, are they?" She reads you like a book, they've been such a drag. A looming figure you just can't get rid of. And you know other people are staring more at them than they are at you. After all, you're not even that famous. "Why don't we ditch them?" Alex asks, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "I don't know, I don't want to stress Carlos out. With the practice and all, I don't want him to get hurt..."

They both groan and boo at your hesitation. "He's not your dad, you don't have to do everything he says." Kika gives a sharp side eye, but she too has the playful aura. "Yeah, all three our boys are busy right now. We won't be bothering them. You can barely reach them when they're caught up in the media like this." She's right, so far you've just been sitting here eating lunch with them. After that, you have no idea. Carlos has so much to do and you honestly don't feel like getting in his hair. "Oh alright, how are we going to do this?"

"Woohoo! Isn't this so much more fun than sitting around with those old men?" You can barely hear her over the sound of the radio. You're driving down the streets of Milan, again. This time an even bigger budget in mind with your new girl friends.

Even better so that those two boys aren't here to ruin the party, they'd been blowing up your phone and you've been gladly ignoring them. Gucci scarves, Prada heels, Hermés handbags, anything you could dream off. All the while the three of you go crazy on your Instagram. Showing everyone the life.

"Oo girl, Carlos is going to attack you like some vicious animal when he sees you in that." Kika smirks as you all fit the lingerie on, after all the shopping and treats you all feel much closer together. You can only laugh, too ashamed to truly speak of all that is happening. Alex whines and places her head on your shoulder. "You really have the perfect guy." You can only laugh at her. "And what? Charles Leclerc is a deadbeat?"

He's getting paid more than Carlos, he's more stable with Ferrari than Carlos and they've been longer together than the two of you. She laughs and admires herself in the changing room mirror. "I really like him, don't get me wrong. But he's not obsessed with me like Carlos is with you."

You blush and begin changing back into your clothes. "I wouldn't say he's obsessed with me." You both leave the changing room at the same time, conveniently with Kika outside still deep in your conversation.

"Girl, have you seen the way he looks for you? All he does for you? What has it been? 6 Months? I would marry that man already if I were you. Just to make sure he doesn't get away." If you had a drink you would've spit it out. "Kika! It's a bit early, don't you think?" You're glad she shares your shock, otherwise you'd be certain that they're both crazy. "Not at all." You all three laugh at her, now you're really enjoying yourself.

The ringtone rings, Sade's Smooth Operator plays due to the ringtone. "Speak of the devil." You say, holding up your phone after paying. You answer the phone while walking out the doors. "Where the fuck are you?" You can't help but let a laugh escape. He must be joking or something, you've never heard this time from him. He's never been aggressive towards you, ever. "This is not something to be fucking laughing about. Get back to the hotel, now."

You fall back, behind the two girls, not wanting them to listen to the conversation. "Why? It's not even," you go to look at the time only to realise free practice has long since ended. Not to mention, it's almost 5. "Oh shit..." You mutter, not realising how long you've been out and about.

"Oh shit is right. Get back to the hotel. Now." His voice is much sterner than you've ever heard him be. Comparable to the rage you've seen in the videos, after he's been let down by his team, again. Have you let him down?

You open the hotel door. All while taking off your heels and putting them to the side. "Carlos?" You call out, not seeing him lounging around, likely guessing that he's changing. In your mind, he's supposed to go to the gym right around now. The trainer has kept your sessions three times a week for now. However, walking further into the hotel room you see him on the balcony. In his workout clothes, his back faced to you with the setting sun of Italy in the background.

"Carlos," he doesn't look to be as angry as he sounded on the phone. Then again, you've never really seen him angry. He turns to you, now you can truly gauge his emotions. "Where were you?" You go to answer him but he raises his hand. "More importantly why didn't you tell me you were leaving?" Anger, yes, it's prevalent, but more importantly you see fear. Utter frustration in his eyes, he looks like he's ran a  marathon.

You shrug, inspecting your still un-pedicured toes. That was one of the many things you plan on doing with your mom next week when you visit. "I didn't want to bother you. You were busy with the media." He scoffs at your words, his dark hair moving with his dramatic reactions. He repeats your words in a mutter. "So you thought it would be better to scare the living shit out of me?" He does look truly terrified. His usually soft eyes are now hard like rock. Like the amber stones his eyes so resemble.

"Do you know how it felt? I was in the middle of a drivers meeting. I thought someone took you from me!" You see tears form in his eyes. His backlash has a similar effect on you. You can feel the rock in your throat and the burning in your jaw. Yet still you don't dare say a word, after all you have nothing to say.

"Worse even, I thought you left me. I thought that they had said something that made you leave. That you realise you deserve much more than me." This makes you laugh, or maybe it's just to keep the sobs from escaping.

But the laugh seems to pierce his heart. "You're laughing? I'm ready to burn the whole of Italy just to find you and you're laughing?" Now, now you see anger. Raging burning anger. Like it's been locked in a cage and now it's free and gulping up oxygen.

"No, Carlos. It's funny to me that you think I deserve better? You quite literally took me in from the streets. Fed me with Caviar, clothed me with Gucci and cared for me like a king his queen, expecting nothing in return. And yet still believe I deserve better?"

Now it's his turn to laugh. You can see his fighting a battle in his mind. What to say and what not to say. "Can't you see? In five years I'll be washed up. Not a single Championship to my name and my money spent on stupidly expensive watches and cars that don't even hold one shopping bag. But you, you're immortal. Your beauty should be and I'm convinced will be remembered until every last mind withers from this earth.  Every single dime spent on you, is for the betterment of humanity."

How on earth can you really mean so much to him? What is it about you? How can one glance from an alleyway have this man in tears in front of you. You can't control yourself, you just need to feel his arms around you.

You need to hold him and comfort him. Tell him you'll stay forever. How sorry you are and that it won't ever happen again. And he lets you. He lets the tears fall in the crook your neck. His grip tighter than you thought possible. To the point where it aches. But, that's what love is, right? It aches.

He combs his fingers through your hair, whispering words that you'll never know what they mean. "Estoy obsesionado contigo. Si no puedo abrazarte por el resto de mi vida, entonces no tengo vida que esperar. Si no es en tus brazos donde muero, será en ese maldito coche de carreras, aunque tenga que asegurarme de ello."

Taglist is open, just ask!

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x sugar baby!reader #sugar daddy!carlos sainz #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x reader #formula one #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 x reader #f 1 x reader #f1 xreader

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fafnir19 · 16 days

Text

A prized possession

Leroy, a cocksure college jock with a swagger in his step and a twinkle in his eye, felt the power of the sports car beneath him like an extension of his own virility. He grinned smugly as he revved the engine of his father’s Porsche, the sleek metallic body gleaming under the sunlight. Yet, his reign was soon to face a tumultuous turn.

One fateful evening, as Leroy lounged in the living room watching reruns of sports games, his father’s voice boomed through the room like thunder, “Son, we need to talk.” Leroy’s heart skipped a beat, the ominous tone causing a chill to run down his spine. “What’s up, Dad?” Leroy feigned nonchalance, trying to keep his voice steady. His father's face was grave as he uttered the words that shattered Leroy’s world, “I lost the Porsche in a gamble.” Leroy’s eyes widened in disbelief, his expression mirroring a deer caught in headlights. “You did WHAT?” he exclaimed, the blood draining from his face. “That’s illegal! We can't just give away the Porsche!” His father’s jaw was set with unwavering determination, “It's a matter of honor, Leroy. A gentleman keeps his word, even when the stakes are high.”

Leroy's mind raced with a million thoughts. How could he live without his beloved Porsche? It was his pride and joy, his ticket to popularity and admiration. He had to think fast, come up with a plan to save his precious car from falling into the hands of a stranger. An idea sparked in Leroy's mind, as he concocted a plan. “Let me bring the Porsche to the winner. I’ll have one last ride, say my goodbyes,” he proposed, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

His father looked at him with a mix of pride and curiosity. "Very well, Leroy. If that's what you wish, then go ahead. But remember, honor is at stake here," his father warned, his tone firm.

Little did his father know, Leroy had a trick up his sleeve, a cunning scheme to outwit the winner and reclaim what was rightfully his. The Porsche would not be lost to some stranger; it belonged with Leroy, and he would stop at nothing to ensure it stayed that way.

As Leroy pulled up to the grand mansion where the winner was waiting, he couldn't shake the unease settling in his stomach. The imposing gates swung open, revealing Miles, a handsome man with a confident smirk on his face.

Leroy stepped out of the Porsche, his eyes narrowing as he faced the new owner of his beloved car. "Congratulations on winning the Porsche, Miles," Leroy said, his voice laced with a hint of defiance. Miles chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Ah, the previous owner himself. Come, let me drive you back home." Leroy hesitated for a moment before accepting, climbing into the passenger seat of the Porsche beside Miles. The engine roared to life, and they sped off down the winding road, the wind whipping through Leroy's hair.

Leroy gritted his teeth, steeling himself for the confrontation ahead. "So, Miles, about the Porsche... I believe there's been a misunderstanding. Gambling is illegal, and I can't let you keep it."

"So, Leroy," Miles began, his voice smooth as silk, "you mentioned gambling is illegal. Is that your only concern?" Leroy's jaw tightened. "It is against the law, and I won't stand by—" Miles raised a hand, cutting him off and began, his voice smooth like velvet. "You really do love this car, don't you?" Leroy's grip on the seat tightened. "The Porsche and I belong together. It's more than just a car to me." Miles arched an eyebrow, his smile widening. "Well then, let me show you just how much you belong to this car."

Leroy couldn't help but notice the strange sensation creeping over him. His trackpants seemed to morph into the same leather material as the car seats, fitting snugly against his toned legs. "Um, what's happening?" Leroy mumbled, eyeing his transformed attire warily. Miles chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Just relax, Leroy. Enjoy the ride." With a sudden burst of speed, Miles hit the gas pedal, pressing Leroy back into the seat. The sensation was exhilarating, almost electrifying. Leroy's t-shirt and bomber jacket underwent a magical makeover, turning into a stylish leather jacket that revealed his sculpted six-pack underneath.

Wideeyed, Leroy stammered, "This... this isn't normal, right?" Miles flashed a knowing grin, his hand effortlessly shifting the aluminum gear lever. As Miles's fingers grazed the gearshift, Leroy felt a jolt of pleasure shoot through him, making his heart race in excitement. "Oh, what is...?" Leroy's words trailed off as Miles continued to stroke the gear lever lightly, sending shivers down Leroy's spine. A stirring in his loins caught Leroy off guard. His body responding to Miles's touch of the gearshift in ways he couldn't explain and suddenly he sported an boner. Miles' voice cut through Leroy's haze of desire. "Do you enjoy this ride, Leroy?" Leroy could only moan in response, his body aching for more of the exhilarating sensations coursing through him. The Porsche surged forward, the speedometer climbing higher and higher. Just when he thought he couldn't take the pleasure any more, something unexpected happened. Suddenly, the electronic limiter kicked in, halting the acceleration abruptly. And then, in a sudden twist of fate, Leroy felt a strange sensation around his nether regions. Looking down in his pants, he saw an aluminum chastity cage materialize around his manhood, fitting seamlessly with the Porsche's aesthetic and locking him in a state of bewildered arousal.

"Miles, what have you done to me?" Leroy cried out, his voice a mix of shock and desire. Miles just smirked, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Do you feel it, Leroy? The connection between you and the Porsche? Embrace it, let go of your inhibitions." Leroy's heart pounded in his chest as he pleaded with Miles. "Please, stop this! Let me go!" he cried out, his voice laced with fear and desperation. Miles, with a devious smile playing on his lips, pulled over to the side of the deserted road. With shaking hands, Leroy reached for the door handle, ready to bolt from the car and escape the enigmatic gaze of Miles. Was this his chance to break free from whatever strange spell had been cast upon him? Leroy tensed, preparing to make a run for it. However, his eyes widened in shock as Miles got out of the Porsche and opened the door on Leroy's side.

Before he could take a single step, Miles's firm grip pushed him back into the leather seat. With a quick movement, Miles lowered Leroy's pants, revealing the smooth expanse of his skin.

Leroy's breath hitched in his throat, his body reacting to the sudden exposure. And then, as if in a surreal dream, Miles unveiled his stiff uncut cock, pressing it against Leroy's unprepared entrance.

The initial pain of penetration tore through Leroy, eliciting a scream that echoed through the quiet surroundings. But as the initial shock faded, a different sensation began to bloom within him, one of heat and forbidden pleasure. Miles's movements were deliberate and precise, each thrust igniting a different kind of fire within Leroy's core. The leather seats beneath him seemed to mold to his every curve, cradling him in a strange comfort he couldn't deny. With each push and pull, Leroy's world narrowed down to the point of contact, where pleasure mingled with pain in a dance as old as time itself. His moans filled the air, a symphony of conflicting emotions that only seemed to spur Miles on further. Leroy found himself lost in a whirlwind of sensations, his body no longer his own but a vessel for something primal and raw. The aluminum shifter gleamed in the dim light, a silent witness to the passion unfolding within the confines of the luxurious car and Miles' dark eyes bore into his, holding him in their hypnotic gaze as he whispered, "You're like my Porsche: sporty, good-looking and only meant for the pleasure of rich men! You’re my Porsche-boy now!"

Leroy's mind reeled with confusion and desire as he found himself trapped in a situation he never could have anticipated. Miles's dark eyes bore into him, a predatory glint dancing within them as he took control of the situation. "What have you done to me?" Leroy managed to stammer out, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and arousal. Miles's lips curved into a knowing smile, his fingers trailing lightly over the aluminum gearshift. "Relax, Leroy. You're exactly where you belong now," he purred, his voice like velvet, laced with a hint of danger. Leroy's heart pounded in his chest as he struggled against the strange sensations coursing through him. The metallic cage around his manhood felt constricting yet oddly exhilarating, reminding him of his newfound connection to the Porsche. Miles leaned in closer, his breath warm against Leroy's skin. "You're not Leroy anymore. You're Porsche-boy, my exclusive toy," he murmured, his words sending a shiver down Leroy's spine.

Leroy's mind reeled with conflicting emotions. Was this his fate now, to be nothing more than an expensive toy in the hands of a wealthy man? His muscles tensed beneath the snug leather jacket that now adorned his chiseled body, a silent reminder that Miles' wants him to look gay. With a resigned nod, Leroy accepted his new identity as Porsche-boy, letting go of the name Leroy as if it were a burden too heavy to bear. The leather seats cradled him, molding to his form as though they were a part of him, just like the aluminum chastity cage that held his desire in check. Taking a deep breath, Porsche-boy slid behind the wheel, his hands trembling slightly as he turned to Miles and asked, "Where should I drive you, my owner?"

Miles smiled, a predatory glint in his eyes as he leaned back in the passenger seat, his gaze fixed on Porsche-boy with possessive intent.

"Take me to the heart of the city, Porsche-boy. Show me what this sleek machine of yours can do." With a nod, Leroy revved the engine, the powerful roar of the Porsche filling the air around them. He felt a surge of adrenaline as he tore down the open road, the wind whipping through his hair, the leather jacket tight against his skin. As they sped through the city streets, Leroy revelled in the feeling of freedom and power that came with being Miles' Porsche-boy.

With each passing moment, he embraced his new role, the lines between pleasure and pain blurring in a heady mix of desire and submission. And as the city lights blurred past them, Leroy knew that his journey was far from over. He was no longer Leroy, the college jock with an alpha mentality. He was Porsche-boy, a prized possession in the eyes of his wealthy owner, destined for a world of luxury, pleasure, and uncharted desires. And in that moment, as he surrendered to the intoxicating rush of the unknown, Leroy found a sense of fulfillment he had never known before. As a result, he forgot his former name and Leroy was no more. In his place stood Porsche-boy, a symbol of luxury and desire, a testament to the intoxicating allure of submission and control.

Embracing his fate as Miles' Porsche-boy, he knew that this new chapter in his life would be anything but ordinary.

#straight to gay #servant #male transformation #male tf #personality change #mind corruption #jock toy

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