#please I need them for my collection ma’am!

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

The only double album theory I care about is my very unrealistic one where she releases signed cds of Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) and 1989 (Taylor’s Version) together as a bundle.

#taylor swift #Payton makes bad jokes #1989 taylor's version #speak now taylor’s version #please I need them for my collection ma’am!

[wonwussy]

Impatience Never Pays

pairing; mingyu x female reader

genre; SMUT SMUT SMUT

notes/warnings; MINORS DO NOT ENTER DO NOT PASS GO DO NOT COLLECT 200 GET THE FUCK OUT thank you; masturbation (f), restraints, whiny pathetic gyu, sub!gyu, domme!reader, pet names (pup/puppy), ma'am is used, does this count as cuckholding?, does it even count as exhibitionism or voyeurism?, i dunno i guess that's it

word count; 1.3k approx.

when inspiration hits outta nowhere, ya gotta take what you can and run with it. i wrote this in less time than it took for the entirety of the evita movie soundtrack to play. Thank you to @the-boy-meets-evil for reading it over for me! I like your brain. And you.

He had been impatient. Nearly begging all day for you, for your touch. You told him he had to wait. You were working, and that required your attention. Even warned him that if he didn’t, he’d be punished. Instead of listening, he sent you pictures. Showing you himself in various stages of undress, how hard you had made him at the mere thought of you, his fangs showing as smirked at you from his reflection. He knew what he was doing.

And now, as Mingyu sits up against the headboard, he knows he has to be punished for his actions. He watches you, nearly shaking with anticipation, as you cross over to the head of the bed. While the only thing he wears is his soft blue leather collar, you’re still fully dressed. His tongue swipes across his lips as you take his wrist, and hold it against the corner of the headboard, his eyes trained on your every move.

You don’t say anything as you tie his wrist to the corner, smirking crookedly as he tugs at the black silken rope. You round the bed to the other side, and repeat the action, before moving to stand at the foot of the bed. “Mingyu, what did I ask you to do today?” you ask finally, your fingers moving to the button on your pants.

His eyes are fixed on your hands, causing you to still them as you wait for his answer. He pulls in a slow breath and raises his gaze to your face, his cock twitching slightly against his thigh. “To be patient,” he replies quietly, fighting to keep his eyes from going back to your hands as they work your slacks down your legs.

You sigh as you kick your pants aside, tipping your head to the side. “All you had to do. Instead, you couldn’t wait.” You pause as you pull your shirt over your head and let it drop to the floor from your fingers. “Did you play with yourself too, little pup?” you ask him, almost mockingly as your bottom lip sticks out.

Mingyu’s bottom lip gets caught between his teeth, thinking for a split second to lie to you. Though, he knows you’ll know if he does, so he nods a little. “Yes. I couldn’t help it. I was so hard, and wanting you so badly. I just needed relief. I couldn’t wait for you to get home,” he confesses, and you can hear the slight whine in his voice.

You tsk as you unhook your bra and drop it, this time his eyes going straight to your chest as he admires you. You smile as you notice him doing so, reaching up to cup your breasts. “Poor puppy. Couldn’t keep his hands to himself, or from sending me such lewd pictures. Trying to tease me and work me up.” You pinch your nipples, before you smooth your hands over your stomach and to the waistband of your panties. “It worked, you know. My panties were soaked most of the afternoon,” you tell him as your panties slide down your legs.

He watches as you step out from them and climb onto the end of the bed, kneeling as you face him on the mattress. He tries not to look too pleased at your words, though you can see the pride there. His wrists pull gently at the ties, adjusting himself as his cock grows harder at the sight of you. “Baby, you had me worked up all day,” he replies.

You raise your eyebrows at him as you spread your knees a little, sitting back on your heels. “Baby? Now, little pup, that’s not how we address me, is it?”

His heart jumps, and he shakes his head. “No, ma’am. I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

You nod at him and smile. “That’s my puppy. Good boy,” you praise. You fall silent as you let your hands wander over your body, your eyes fixed on him watching you. Your mouth falls open slightly as your fingers find your clit, letting your fingertips brush it lightly.

Mingyu swallows as his eyes are trained on your hands, a quiet whimper escaping his lips. “Please, ma’am. Let me touch you,” he pleads, his hands squeezing into fists as he resists pulling the ties again.

You shake your head as one hand finds your breasts again, the other teasing your entrance. “No, little pup. Because you had some fun already, it’s my turn. You have to sit and watch me.” You breathe out a soft sigh as one of your fingers enters you. “It’s too bad. I really would have liked your fingers in me more.”

He groans loudly, his cock fully hard against him, and shifts again as he strains his wrists. “Oh god, ma’am. Please. Please let me help. I want to feel you,” he whines.

You don’t reply as you slip another finger inside yourself, your thumb brushing your clit lightly. Another smirk tugs at the corners of your lips as your fingers become soaked, the sound of your wetness filling the room. You can hear more whines pull from Mingyu at your actions, and it spurs you on more.

You shift a little so he can see your pussy better, watch you finger yourself closer to your orgasm. “Oh, Mingyu. I bet your cock would fill me up so much better than my fingers. Do you want to fill me up? Fuck me until you’ve got nothing left?” you ask, your fingers moving faster inside as you stroke yourself.

He nods furiously, wishing he could break the headboard to free himself. He wants to get to you, to fuck you into the mattress, fill you up like you want. “Please, baby. Please untie me so I can fuck you. I promise to be good. Let me fill you up, please. Fuck, baby. Please?” he begs as he watches you, licking his lips in hunger.

You let out a loud moan as he begs, your eyes finally closing as you can feel yourself reach your high. He whines as you pinch your nipple again, sending a shock through your body as your orgasm hits at the same time. Your moans are loud as you keep your fingers moving inside yourself, riding out the waves of your orgasm in front of him.

To him it seems like minutes as he watches you come down, your fingers finally slipping from you, pre-cum leaking from his tip against his thigh. “Fuck, baby. You’re so beautiful. That was… fuck,” he mutters through a groan.

You smirk as your eyes open and find him, looking almost pathetic as he aches to touch you. You let out a breath and crawl up the bed so you’re between his legs. You reach up to tuck one finger under his collar and tug him closer to you. “Do you want a taste?” you ask, your voice quiet.

He nods excitedly, his mouth dropping open almost obediently as he waits. He loves the taste of you, so if he can’t touch you, tasting you will be good enough right now.

You smirk as you bring your cum soaked fingers up to his lips, stopping just short before you put them against his tongue. You lean forward and whisper in his ear, your lips brushing against him. “Sorry. Only good puppies get treats.” You lean back and move off the bed, sucking your own fingers as you face him. “Naughty ones have to sit and think about what they did,” you add as you step backwards towards the door. “I’m going to shower. I’ll be back when I’m finished.”

He blinks in surprise at your actions, watching in disbelief as you exit to the bathroom. It takes him a few seconds before he snaps out of it, furrowing his brow as he tugs against the ties again. “Wait, come back here!”

#svthub #mingyu smut #seventeen smut #mingyu fanfiction #seventeen fanfiction

[ragingbookdragon]

Rudy pulled Alejandro aside before the team was about to depart. “Colonel, we need to talk.”

“Can it wait?” he asked.

“Alejandro,” Rudy said, voice lowering seriously. “I can’t get your wife to answer any texts.”

The Colonel’s eyes widened, and he started patting his own pockets for his cellphone, but he cursed himself, remembering he’d left it in the jeep before Graves had betrayed them. He strode to the table. “We have to put the plan on hold.”

The group looked at him, their expressions confused; Price stepped forward. “Why? What’s the matter?”

“My wife,” he replied. “Rudy cannot get her to answer. Something is wrong.”

“Perhaps she’s busy?” Soap offered.

“No,” Rudy said, shaking his head. “I’ve texted her over the span of the last few hours. Nothing.”

Price let out a sigh, looking to Ghost. “You?”

Ghost nodded. “I’ve met his wife. She’s needed here to run things smoothly. Losing her wouldn’t be wise.”

“Alright. All of you, pack up, move out.” He looked at Alejandro. “Where is she?”

“Home,” he replied, fear ebbing into his stomach. “She is home…alone.”

***

She opened the door to her home, gazing curiously at the armed guards outside in the dark. “Can I help you?”

“Missus Vargas?” one said. “You need to come with us. There’s been trouble at the base where your husband works.”

“Oh, God, what’s happened? Is my husband okay?” she worried, turning to grab her purse and jacket; she bent over, putting on her shoes.

“We’re not entirely sure, ma’am, but he told us to come collect you and bring you to safety.”

She started to open the door further when it suddenly hit her and she slowed to a halt, looking at them. “What’s the code-word?”

The two soldiers froze, sharing a quick glance between them. “Beg pardon?” one excused.

“The code-word,” she repeated, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “My husband and I have a code-word. He would’ve shared it with you if he told you to come for me.”

“Mrs. Vargas,” the other sighed. “Please, time is of the essence.” He reached for her and she slapped his hand.

She stood there, staring at them. “My husband didn’t send you.”

“This doesn’t have to get ugly.”

“It will if you cross the threshold of my house. I would advise you to retreat before you make a mistake you can’t undo.”

The one soldier reached for his gun. “You have one last chance to come quietly.”

Her jaw clenched and she inhaled deeply. “Elegiste a la esposa del coronel equivocado.”

***

Alejandro was on the edge of his seat, hoping to not see fire in the distance as they came up over the hill before his home. What he hadn’t expected to see was one of the Shadow’s jeeps abandoned, and his wife sitting on the front step of their house, a haggard look on her face.

“Detén!” he yelled, and Gaz hit the brakes; they climbed out and Alejandro ran up to her. “Mi alma!” he froze, eyes wide in shock at the sight of slick crimson covering her face and body. “Qué te pasó?” he breathed, the fear in his stomach turning to straight ice.

She lazily looked up at him, pulling the cigarette from her mouth, puffing the smoke from her lungs; her free hand held up the whiskey bottle. “Drink?”

Alejandro bent down, feeling along her body. “Dónde estás herido?”

She tried to shrug off his hands. “I’m fine.”

“Dónde estás sangrando?”

“I’m not wounded.”

“Lo siento, debería haber estado aquí para protegerte. Lo sien—”

“Alejandro!” she yelled, and he fell silent, watching as she stared him down, put the butt of the cigarette in her mouth and warned, “It’s not my blood.”

His brows pinched in confusion. “Who’s bl—”

Ghost emerged from the house. Alejandro’s eyes zeroed in on the item he was holding, shock dripping from him like each droplet of scarlet that came from the metal baseball bat. “I think the Missus maintained a very good home defense.” He looked at Alejandro. “You might want to have professionals clean the brains out of the carpets.”

She stood up from the step, one hand holding the whiskey bottle, the other throwing the cigarette out to stomp its life out; she yanked the baseball bat out of Ghost’s hand and turned around, walking down the steps. “Take me to the bastard who brought enemies to my house. Tengo un regalo que me gustaría devolverle.”

She stood at the jeep door and Price asked, “What’s that?”

Tossing something his way, she muttered, “The nametags from their uniforms.”

“Where are their dog-tags?” Soap asked, and she gave him a dead-eyed stare.

“Los empujé por sus gargantas antes de golpearlos hasta la muerte.” She didn’t say anymore, climbing into the jeep.

Alejandro walked over to them, sparing a glance back to the house. “I…should call someone to clean this up.” he took Rudy’s phone and dialed a number, talking quietly to someone.

Soap looked at Rudy. “What did Missus Vargas say when I asked about their dog tags?”

Rudy frowned. “She shoved them down their throats before beating them to death.”

“Jesus fuck,” he said, glancing into the door to see her staring straight ahead. “Remind me not to get on her bad side.”

As they piled into the jeeps, Alejandro leaned into his wife, murmuring, "Mi alma, how did you know they were enemies?"

She breathed deeply and laid her head on his shoulder. "No me dijeron nuestra palabra clave. Sabía que no los enviaste para protegerme." Looking at him, she added, "Defendí nuestra casa, pero por favor, no me obliguen a hacerlo de nuevo."

Alejandro nodded. "Nunca más. Siempre estaré allí de ahora en adelante para asumir esa carga por ti."

#alejandro vargas x reader imagines #alejandro vargas x reader imagine #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas imagine #alejandro vargas imagines #alejandro vargas #captain price #john price #price #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz #rudy parra #rodolfo parra #cod imagines #cod imagine #cod #cod mwii #cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #mw2 #mw2 imagines #mw2 imagine

[natashxromanovf]

Forever mine

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 1301

WARNINGS: slight fighting (verbal, very mild), mentions of food, one swear word

REQUESTED: {x} by @arkofblake

SUMMARY: Yours and JJ’s relationship, from the day you met to the present time and what you learnt about each other throughout those years.

A/N: Thank you for requesting this babes! I loved writing it so much, I hope you enjoy reading it as well <3

You vividly remember the first time your eyes laid on JJ Maybank. It was a sunny afternoon amid September, the weather surprisingly summer-like. Walking inside a restaurant, you were supposed to meet a friend of yours for brunch but she bailed on you at the last second, leaving you standing on the street all alone. You thought about going back to your dorm but decided otherwise. You were really hungry, already here and to be honest, you could use some peace and quiet to gather your thoughts. 

“What can I get for you?” a blonde boy questions you, giving you a warm smile. As you look up at him, the breath you were about to let out hitches in your throat and the words get stuck in your mouth. A moment passes by and you finally collect yourself again, already feeling the heat creep up your neck.  

“I’m sorry,” you laugh a bit, looking down at your hands. “Could I please get some pancakes with maple syrup?” you politely ask, returning him the smile. 

“Of course, ma’am, coming right up,” the guy says as he leaves, leaving you speechless. The blonde couldn’t have been much older than you, maybe a year or two but not more. And the fact that he’s really gorgeous didn’t slip past you either, because that is one of the finest men you have ever seen in your life. 

Before you know it he comes back with your food, placing a plate in front of you. You flinch a little when the plate collides with the table, as you aren’t aware of your surroundings. You quickly snap out of your thoughts though, as he starts speaking. 

“Can I get you anything else?” 

“Oh, no thank you, I think I got everything I need,” you reply, looking up at him once again. He nods and starts to walk away, as you gather the courage to do something the girl you were a week back would never do. “Except maybe,” you start, catching his attention once again. “What’s your name?”

He smirks before answering, letting you know that he was waiting for that question. “JJ,” he answers. “JJ Maybank.”

~

“What’re you thinking about there, babe?” JJ questions as he tucks your hair behind your ear, a gesture he learned you love very much. 

“About the day we met,” you honestly answer a small smile appearing on your face. 

“Oh, you mean about the day when you were literally at a loss for words when you first saw me?” he says cockily, earning a slight smack on the arm from you. 

The two of you were currently lying down on his couch, watching your favourite TV show, trying to unwind from your morning classes. “Do you remember the day when you first kissed me?” you ask, grinning wildly as the memory flashes across your mind.

“Of course I do,” JJ replies. “We were sitting on the beach in Outer Banks. It was the first time I took you there, to meet my best friends from high school. They all left and we were watching the sunset, it was particularly beautiful that day. You were talking about how much you like them all and I just decided right then and there that I wanna spend my whole life with you,” he finishes and you turn around, pressing a deep kiss against his lips. When you part you just stare at him for a few seconds, the biggest smile on your lips. He mirrors your expression, his fingers caressing your arm, barely touching you but still erupting goosebumps all over your body. 

“I love you,” you finally say, him returning the words. After that, you give him another pack and then you stand up, grabbing some clothes from the drawer in his bedroom. You stop for a second and realise you have your drawer at his place. You don’t know when it officially became your drawer, it just sort of happened. I mean, it was just a matter of time to be fair, you’re barely at your dorm anymore.

“Where are you going?” the blonde shouts from the living room, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“To take a shower,” you exclaim, closing the drawer. “I’m meeting with Amanda later,” you remind him, blowing a little kiss at him before closing the bathroom door. 

~ 

“What’s going on?” asks JJ as he enters the apartment, placing his keys on the cupboard near the door. 

“Bills,” you simply answer, your face still scrunched with confusion and a bit of anger. This has been a repeating problem for the past few months, something the two of you can’t get rid of. The apartment lease has gotten higher just around the time you started having money problems and the stupid landlord won’t give you a few extra days to pay for the place. “I get my pay in a couple of days,” you state as a matter of fact, more to yourself than to the man now standing next to you.

“Yeah I know but that bitch downstairs just doesn’t wanna give us a day or two more,” he almost shouts, silently praying your downstairs neighbour heard that. 

“Jesus JJ you can’t just scream like that!” you suddenly snap, catching him by surprise. He takes a slight step back, trying to figure out what the problem is right now. He has done this multiple times already and you always laugh at it. 

“Y/N,...” he starts but you shush him with your hand, taking a breath.

“I just can’t deal with this right now,” you say, grabbing your car keys and throwing the door open. Once you're outside you stop for a second, taking a deep breath of fresh air, trying to stop the tears that will inevitably come. To your surprise JJ follows you downstairs, stopping just a step or two behind you.

“Y/N what is going on?” he finally asks, stepping just a bit closer. 

“I don’t know,” you honestly reply, the first tear starting to roll down your cheek. “I don’t know, J, nothing’s wrong, everything’s wrong,” you murmur, a sob escaping your lips.

“Hey, hey, darling, shhhh,” he says as he wraps you in a tight hug, making you press your head to his chest. “We’ll figure this out, I promise,” he swears, softly caressing your back. You finally let yourself breathe, really breathe and take a moment to relieve some of the stress that has been building up in you for weeks now. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you start, your voice a bit muffled by his shirt. “I had a terrible day at work today and college is just too much right now and my Mom just called me with another one of her problems and now I saw the bill and I just,” you ramble, meanwhile JJ comforts you in the best way he knows how. “I really need to take a break,” you finish, finally letting go of the blonde. As soon as you look up at him he presses a reassuring kiss to your forehead, the forgiveness for shouting at him hidden in that gesture. 

“I know Y/N, and I will make sure you get the rest you need. And remember, just because we fight doesn’t mean we won’t work things out. We’re not your parents, love,” he whispers, pulling another sob out of you but this time a sob of relief. 

“I know, J, I know. I guess I just need a reminder from time to time,” you smile up at him. He softly wipes away your tears and when he’s done, he guides your lips into a comforting kiss.

“Good. Because you’re the best thing that’s ever been mine,” he mutters, putting his hand around your shoulders, and guiding you back inside the apartment.

outer banks taglist: @hallecarey1 @lovelyjj @ilyjohnb

jj maybank: @velvetcloxds @tenaciousperfectionunknown

hope you enjoyed this! don’t forget to like, reblog and/or comment, it really helps writers with motivation <33

taglist form

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #outer banks #outer banks x reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fanfiction #outer banks fic #outer banks fanfiction #taja writes #fanfiction #taja’s 202 4 the plot

[bemyawakening]

Omg yesss please more Alejandro! There isn't enough stories about him.

Task force 141 meeting Alejandro Vargas wife for first time.

I imagine her being a badass soldier and medic at same time. After they reclaim the base and gather up wounded she arrives and heals people and commands everybody and price or somebody asks if she is Alejandros 3rd in command or something and Alejandro is like no she is above me and introduces her as his wife and she meets the whole task force after she is done and thanks them for helping Alejandro and she scolds Alejandro because he made her worry but he only smiles and hugs her.

ALEJANDRO VARGAS X f!READER

Thank you so much for your request agh! I absolutely love Alejandro and I was definitely not licking my screen whenever he showed up on it. Somehow, I think a bad-ass wife would suit him so well, so here you go! if it’s horrible— I’m so sorry

pairing: Alejandro Vargas x f!reader (medic and soldier reader)

word count: 1994

           

Your bouncing leg was driving not only you but the two medics sitting in the same room insane. Where the fuck were they? Checking your wristwatch, you were sure you were going to have a heart attack in approximately five seconds, but you had to calm yourself – he always came back.

            The roaring vehicle from the outside alerted you and you sprang from your seat faster than lightning. You kept swearing to yourself that you’ll never ever let him get into another mission again and you’ll write him off any mission coming his way. You had the authority to do that.

            However, the distant yells fogged up her mind, letting her know that someone was badly injured—fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… Two soldiers appeared, helping a wounded British soldier get inside of the medical room. You knew that the Special Forces from England united with the Mexican Special Forces for this mission and you did the right thing by coming to the base, in case help would be needed.

            The man was young and you immediately pointed at a free bed beside the door, watching the way the guys placed him down on the mattress. Walking closer, you pushed a little table with wheels closer to the bed, where the most important stuff was placed – you were prepared, and took a pair of fresh gloves: “Tell me.”

            Only then did you realise that one of the men standing beside you had a hairstyle of a Mohawk and it oddly suited him, but you couldn’t put attention on him for too long, since the man on the bed was clearly suffering.

            “Bullet wound. Lower thigh. Put on the tourniquet about-“ he looked at his watch, nodding, “one and a half hour ago.”

            Nodding, you cut the material of the man’s pants, not even bothered by the amount of dark blood that has drenched them. You had to deal with amputating limbs. This look like a bee sting. “Good news, soldier. You’ll live and you’ll walk.”

            “There’s nothing I want more,” the young man replied through his gritted teeth.

            Taking a needle, you took a little vial, sucking in the liquid through the needle, and flicking it to get rid of the air bubbles. While working, you informed, your voice collected and professional: “Get other wounded in here. The other medics will take care of them.”

            “Yes, ma’am,” the man with the Scottish accent and the Mohawk replied and he disappeared into the chaos, the other soldier following him.

            You’d be lying if your eyes didn’t drop on the door every five seconds. Where the fuck was he? Did something happen to him? No, you gripped yourself together. You had to tend to this soldier right now and then bring wrath once you see his face.

            “Local anaesthesia,” you informed. “Going to stop the bleeding, take the bullet out and stitch it all up.”

            The man nodded, placing his head down and embracing himself for pain. The local anaesthesia helped a lot to bring down the pain, but the discomfort of taking out the bullet was more sickening than painful.

            And you worked like a clock. The tourniquet has stopped the bleeding pretty well, meaning no major artery has been breached. Your eyes kept darting to the door, watching a few more soldiers getting taken in—no sign of him. It took some time to take out the bullet which was split into three parts—one of them nastily small. But the man was taking the pain like a champ and soon enough, you left him to rest with a set of stitches and a cold compress against his forehead.

            Taking off the bloody gloves, you sighed. The stress was making you feel tenser as you looked through the room, the other medics taking care of the other, not-so-badly wounded soldiers. A few soldiers of your own walked inside of the room and you invited them to come closer.

            “What the hell happened?”

            “They were ambushed—they successfully cleared out the base, but there were a few others hiding and it almost turned into a bloodbath,” a male, your sergeant, replied and you chewed on your bottom lip.

            “¡Buen trabajo!” You slightly tapped his shoulder, excusing him as you walked towards the main part of the base where some of them should be gathered.

            And then you saw him. With blood on his face. Fuck, he was hurt, he was hurt, he was hurt… The worry was making you feel rage. You completely ignored the other guys that were looking at you as if you were crazy, but you just made your way to him, watching the way his face lit up as he saw you.

            He knew he was in trouble. He knew how worried you always got when he didn’t come back right on time. And, he already knew what you were going to say—you were going to make him retire. But, God, did you look beautiful walking to him with that worried arch between your eyebrows? There was a bit of blood on your shirt, he knows you tended to someone and he didn’t want to bother you.

            God, he missed you so much.

            “Colonel,” your voice snapped him out of his trance, making him realise that he was in big trouble. You only called him by his rank when he was in the deep.

            “Mi amor,” he tried to soothe you down, knowing damn well what his voice and his words did to you. However this time it didn’t seem to be working.

            The worried sparkle in your eyes was making him feel guilty—he never intends to make you worry. He never intends to make you feel as if he would not come back. He’d always make his way back to you. Always.

            “¿Qué sucedió?” Your tone was rough and he deserved it, but he knew you weren’t actually mad. You were terrified for him.

            Instead of you pulling him into a hug as he has hoped for, you grasped his vest, took it off him and dropped it on the floor. You were inspecting him, seeing if there were any ripped or bloody parts in his attire, before your eyes raised to his head, at the top of his forehead, a bit to the right - there was a nasty wound that has already dried up.

            Your lips trembled.

            “You’re retiring! You better write your fucking resigning letter right now or I swear to fucking God, Alejandro, I will kick you out of the Special Forces myself!” Your voice raised and you meant every single word that has come out of your mouth. You were hitting his chest, not too hard, letting him know how much he has put you through misery.

            Alejandro couldn’t help but smile. He always found your worry sincere and heart-warming. He admired the way you didn’t care about making a scene and he knew well that you were about to drag his ass out of this base and not let him get in here anymore. You had the authority.

            “Tranquila, mi amor, tranquila,” his voice was soothing and he could see the welling tears in your eyes. He grabbed your hands that were having a brawl with his chest and softly squeezed them, pulling you closer. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

            You loathed the soft tone of his voice. You loathed how quickly it calmed you down. And you especially loathed the way you became a lump of jelly once his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight hug.

            Letting yourself breathe out with more ease, you closed your eyes, giving in to his warmth. His heartbeat was slightly faster, but it announced to you that he was alive. He was here. Your Alejandro was here, with you.

            Nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck, he inhaled your scent—home. He was home. He could feel the way your body was slowly relaxing and he realised that he would actually let you drop him out of the Special Forces. The thought about waking up every morning with you by his side, without the need to worry if both of you will make it back home… Little kids running around your home, cooking together… That was his dream. You were his dream.

            Pulling away, you placed your hands on his cheeks, the worried expression on your face not fading away. You inspected the wound—perhaps a few stitches will be necessary. He couldn’t help but admire you. There was something so soothing when you looked at him with that concerned look. He knew he was in good hands. Every touch of yours was so gentle and he cherished them all.

            “Didn’t think I’d see Alejandro getting his ass threatened,” the familiar Scottish accent made you both pull away from one another, but not too far. Alejandro couldn’t keep his hands off you.

            “Hermanos, this is my wife. Responsible for my early retirement,” Alejandro slightly pointed at you with his hand as you looked at the several men standing there.

            “It’s a pleasure,” the Scottish guy replied.

            “I was told that Captain Price will be also joining this mission,” you spoke, wondering which one of them you will have to cooperate with doing the paperwork.

            “It’s me, ma’am,” one of the guys took off his cap, showing his face as he was a bit older than everyone in the room with a beard.

            “Pleasure,” you nodded, diverting your attention to Rodolfo. “The same goes for you Rodolfo—say goodbye to this base.”

            “Teniente coronel,” Rodolfo winced.

            “Hold on!” The Scottish guy gasped, extending his arms in a dramatic motion. “Lieutenant Colonel? Your wife has a higher rank than you?”

            Alejandro nodded – he never had issues with you being with a high rank. On the contrary, he found it very pleasing that calling you formally would get you melting like a piece of chocolate on a sunny day.

            “Yes,” you nodded. It was normal for you to get this kind of reaction—there weren’t many women with your rank or higher. And you were still quite young, but ambitious to get this far. “Now, I’ll get back to all of you in quite some time before I solve some issues with my Colonel.”

            Grasping his arm, you were making your way back into the medical room. Alejandro was following you like a lost puppy, watching you the way you tried to stay angry.

            “Señora,” he stopped you as soon as both of you were in a bit more hidden corridor, sneaking his hands up your waist. “I know I made you worry-”

            “Alejandro,” you warned him with your rough tone. You had to stay strong. How many times have you melted into his touch without giving him a proper scolding?

            “Mi amor,” he whispered, that innocent, but a slightly cheeky smile on his face—damn it. “I will make it up to you.”

            Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms over your chest, but that didn’t stop him from pulling you as close as he could against him. “I’ll take that resignation letter as making up.”

            Chuckling, he placed his hands on your cheeks, feeling the warmth radiating from them. How much he loved when you looked at him with slightly flustered eyes—the things you were doing to him. Kissing his palm, you slightly shook your head: “I’m serious, Alejandro. You’re retiring on your own wish or I’ll kick you out myself. It was silly for me to keep you going on those missions. I want you in our house. I want you in the mornings. I want you beside me every night.”

            Feeling the seriousness of this situation, he was taken aback because he has wished the same things for both of you. He wanted to protect his people and he knew he wouldn’t be able to leave his job completely, but he’d try to be home more. For you.

            Pressing his lips to your forehead, he hummed against your skin, nudging his head down for his forehead to meet yours. “Fine,” he whispered. “Anything for you.”

#sunnywrites! #alejandro vargas imagine #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas x you #call of duty imagine #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare

[theemporium]

this is literally just a random wee blurb for the inexperienced!pornstar!steve x experienced!pornstar!reader series because i just wanted an excuse to write them🤠anyways! enjoy! feel free to send more concepts i can work on after smutober!

masterlist

.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease—”

“You’re such a pretty beggar for me, Stevie,” you cooed, your words dripping with that sweet, condescending tone that always made him squirm. 

His chest heaved. “I-I can’t—”

“You can. And you will.” There was no room for discussion. “Be a good boy for the camera. They wanna see my good boy come.” 

Steve was almost embarrassed to admit to you his complete lack of experience when it came to toys. Well, to be honest, he lacked experience in more factors than you’d expect for a pornstar with his following, but the toys shocked you. 

He wasn’t a complete idiot. He had watched other people use them on themselves. He had seen Eddie scroll through websites before purchasing them. Hell, Eddie had even shown Steve his collection a few times. 

But it never occurred to Steve that he could use them too. He didn’t even really think it was a guy thing until Eddie. And then after that, he just didn’t know where to even start. He didn’t think people would have been interested. 

A fact he would come to learn he was very, very wrong about. 

You had introduced a whole new world to him. And his audience loved it. They loved watching him whine and whimper at the end of the bed whilst you fucked yourself. They loved watching you slowly work him open with plugs and all sorts that he never dared to consider using on himself. They loved watching you tie him up with fluffy handcuffs and place a blindfold over him as you teased him with the wax candles you had ordered from a website Eddie had recommended. 

But he knew they would love this even more. 

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed out, his eyes glossy and wet with tears that streamed down his flushed cheeks, but you don’t think he had ever looked prettier. “I wanna be your good boy. Please let me be your good boy.”

His hands strained against the ropes tying him to the headboard as he watched you slowly crawl up the bed. He hated the distance you kept from him, from touching him like he so desperately wanted you too. He hated that instead of touching him, your fingers were wrapped around the little, black remote that had been the cause of all his pain and pleasure in the last forty minutes.

“You’re such a good boy for me, Steve,” you hummed, your eyes glancing down to his cock. He was hard—painfully hard—and his tip was red and swollen, leaking with need that only his release could give him. “Taking it all so well, baby, so fucking well.”

The buzz echoed through the bedroom, taunting and teasing him as your thumb hovered over the remote buttons. His hips bucked upwards as the buzzing suddenly increased, a choked out moan leaving his lips as he desperately sought his release. 

“Please,” he cried out, his voice cracking as his big, brown eyes looked at you, pleading. 

Your eyes glanced over to the camera set up in the corner of the room, standing proudly on the tripod with its red light blinking at you. You then turned to look down at the squirming boy beneath you, his abs softly clenching as he tried to fight the urge to buck his hips in the air aimlessly. 

“Do you think you deserve to come?” You asked him simply.

His lips parted, eyes darting over your face.

“It’s not a trick question, pretty boy,” you murmured with a smile on your lips. “Do you think you deserve to come?”

He gulped. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Your finger lightly traced along his jaw. “And where do you wanna come, baby?”

“Inside you,” he whimpered out, his head turning in a desperate attempt to seek out your touch a little longer. “Wanna fill you up. Please, let me fill you up. I’ve been so good, baby, so fucking good. Just wanna give you something too.”

You softly bit your lower lip, feeling the coil in the pit of your stomach tighten. “Yeah, pretty boy? You gonna fill me up all nice and good?”

“So good,” he whined. “Not gonna let a single drop spill. Promise.”

“How can I say no to that?” You murmured as you leaned down, your lips brushing against his as your thumb pressed down on the remote once again. “Just a little longer and then maybe you’ll get what you want, pretty boy.”

“But—” He was cut off by his own desperate cry.

“You said you weren’t gonna waste a drop, pretty boy. So don’t.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

.

#pornstar!steve #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things smut

[sweetnsour1]

9:36:09

Angsty Fluff, Bakugou x fem reader

Part 9 of the Broken Collection

“You probably still have time to order something online.” You laughed at the immediate soft snarl you received as a reply. “Not every gift purchase has to be a contest, ya know?” 

“Not a contest if I always give the best shit.” He continued to frown at the display in front of him, seemingly assigning blame to the assortment of objects not meeting his standards. 

“If you say so...” You walked past him, making sure to skirt around the bubble of personal space you had imagined to be there, to examine the wall of glass blown wind chimes. He clicked his tongue before diving into his reply.

“You fuckin’ love my gifts.” 

You didn’t turn back around, letting the statement fall without confirmation or denial. Instead, you let the silence build up a small wall between you. You ignored the way your shoulders tensed as you resisted the immediate catalog of presents now attempting to push their way through any other thoughts. He, of course, wasn’t wrong. Katsuki was an amazing chooser of gifts. Even the small random finds for no occasion at all were still some of your favorite things. Presents so perfect they had remained in your home even when Bakugou hadn’t. You weren’t able to move them, much less get rid of them. You never would. You really did ‘fuckin’ love’ his gifts. You swiped your finger against the paper laden strings in front of you, sending a wave of jingles throughout the store.  

“Excuse me, ma’am. Please don’t do that.” 

You snatched your hand back, now noticing a small sign with bold red letters reminding customers to restrain themselves from what you were getting scolded for now. Your face warmed as you apologized, but you still managed to direct a small kick to the shin of the snickering hero behind you. You spun around as soon as the clerk moved out of sight again. 

“It’s not that funny.” 

“It sure as hell is. You always get into some sort of trouble when we go out.” Your eyebrow arched at the phrasing. He coughed before adding, “uh, out shopping.” 

“So am I just here for comedic relief then? Thought you needed help picking out a gift for your mom.” 

He laughed again, stretching his arm over your shoulder and leaning toward the wall behind you. Too close. You turned your head as if to scan the back of the store for any missed items, ignoring the quickly changing proximity. His breath, which you definitely didn’t notice was cinnamon scented from the mints that were still apparently his favorite, brushed against your neck. You froze at the sound of a jingle and met the glare of the same clerk that had just reminded you of the rules.  

“Excuse me, sir. Please-” 

“Yea, yea. I know. We’ll take these.” He had already disentangled himself from your personal space, now holding two glass blown bell wind chimes. “That rule isn’t logical by the way. Unless you don’t actually want people to buy shit.”

“Of course, I can get those wrapped up.” The change in tone was obvious now that a purchase was eminent. Although the clerk ignored the advice, still moving with a swiftness to take the bells as if there really was some looming threat hiding behind the hands-off policy.  

“Are you sure?” The choice just seemed so random.

“Course. She’ll love ‘em.”  

“Um no offense, but why?” Your head tilted as he hesitated.

“I think they’ll be a sort of good luck charm for her.” His words came out slow and measured, the same way you had all been trained to talk to citizens you wanted to stay calm.

“I see.” You didn’t, but you chose to trust him and ignore how fucking weird he was being. “And you’re sure about the colors?” 

“Obviously. They wouldn’t work if they were different.” 

“I see.” You definitely didn’t, but at least he had dropped the crisis management voice.

You caught one more glimpse of glass as the clerk began closing the small wooden boxes. The first one, now hidden from view, had been a translucent grey, spotted with orange and black and a few green specks. The second...you frowned at the familiar colors. They were the same ones you were now expected to only wear five days a week. Your color palette.  

Your feet did not follow the path set by the hero you had been trailing all morning. They stayed firmly rooted as you blinked at the transaction’s completion. Why? Why was he doing this? Why was he like this? Why had so many small things stayed meaningful? Why did you have any meaning for him? For his family?  

Katsuki Never-Picks-The-Wrong-Gift Bakugou had chosen good luck tokens to give to his mother...one that clearly represented Dynamight and the other that suspiciously reflected your costume that his mother had helped design the last time you upgraded. His mother, who, yes had always loved and welcomed you, but shouldn’t care less about your safety after how you’d hurt her son.

You took a moment to berate yourself for questioning the character of a Bakugou. She would never wish for anything but safety for any hero. What was truly upsetting was you had never really let yourself stop to think how he had to tell them months ago. He had to explain to them what you had hardly been able to communicate to him when you left. What had he told them? The truth? That you were detrimental to each other. That it was your fault. That you chose this. That you hurt him. You had a horrible and quickly growing urge to cry. 

The pressure of the door handle against your back jolted you back into the space you were filling. You must’ve been slowly backing away towards the exit. Red eyes turned at the noise of the bell you brushed against as you gripped the means of escape. And, of course, you did what had become so natural when those eyes met yours. The motion came even more easily now that you risked tears visbily falling with every slow second that crawled by. The same action you took nearly a year ago. 

You fucking ran. 

Masterlist

Next part

#bakugou #bnha fluff #bakugou x reader #bnha #bakugou fluff #bakugou angst #bakugou imagines #bakugou drabbles #katsuki bakugou #bnha imagines

[lincolndjarin]

Good Manners

main masterlist ✧ kinktober masterlist ✦

kinktober : day one - afab!agent!reader x dieter bravo

prompt : cock warming [ 18+ mdni ]

word count : 0.8k words

summary : dieter is a brat.

warnings, etc. : cock warming (obvi, but also like barely any LMAO), male masturbation, reader is described as wearing glasses and having manicured nails, sort of sub!dieter

a/n : happy first of october!! can't believe it's finally here!! so uhh if you saw that is was originally day two no you didn't lmao, i'm still editing a lot of them so they're likely to change in order lmao

“You whine too much.” You stare at him over the rim of your glasses that have slipped down your nose. 

“If I have to read one more fucking script I’m gonna lose it.” He throws the binder in his hands across the couch. 

Not a great sign considering he’s two scripts deep into a pile of well over a dozen. 

“Just a few more, then we can order food and take a break.” You’re shuffling through papers trying to sort out his contracts.

Not like he cared about the money.

He only did a movie if he liked the script. 

Which he hated reading. 

“Can you at least sit closer to me?” His voice shifts up a bit, he gets so nasally when he whines.

There’s a reason you’re on the other couch. 

 “If I sit closer you won’t get anything done.” You push your glasses up the bridge of your nose, shooting him a warning glare.

“I’m already not getting anything done.” He throws his head back, spreading out on the couch. 

“And who’s fault is that?”

“Just come sit with me.” He’s practically throwing a tantrum with the way he stomps his foot and crosses his arms in front of him. 

“Use your words Dieter, I know that’s not what you really want, I’m not giving it to you unless you ask properly.” You’ve told him this a hundred times already. 

“Come sit on my cock.” He grumbles almost petulantly. You tilt your head down staring at him over your glasses with your eyebrows raised expectantly, when you clear your throat he sits up a little straighter. “Please?”

“You need to work on your manners.” You look down at the spreadsheet you’re struggling to fill out. “Touch yourself, when I’m done with this I’ll deal with you.” You begin chewing the end of your pen as he lets out an obscenely loud moan. “What do we say, Dieter?”

“Thank you.” He’s already shoved his sweatpants halfway down his thighs.

“Thank you, what?” 

“Thank you ma’am.” You watch as he enthusiastically spits in his palm. 

“Mhmm.” You try your best to return to your work but he isn’t making it easy on you. 

Dieter Bravo, the actor that he is, always putting on a show. 

You know he’s trying to speed you up and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working. Letting his head fall back with a moan straight out of a porno as he spits on his hand, reaching down to cup his balls before stroking himself languidly. 

After a few minutes of listening to him whine, you finally look up, watching him with an uninterested look as he thrusts his hips upwards, fucking his fist as he stares at you with wide pleading eyes. He fucking loves this. It’s his favorite game, over the years you were shocked to learn that Dieter Bravo, alleged lover of attention, got off on being ignored by you. Nothing made him harder than when you disregarded him. 

He lets out a familiar keen as you watch him, you bullshit your way through the rest of the form you’re working on, not looking up as you speak. 

“If you come I won’t touch you for a month.” It’s an empty threat but you know he’ll take it seriously. He squeezes the base of his cock with a groan, his chin falling forward to rest on his chest as he lets out a breathy whimper. 

You collect all of your papers, making your way across the room, and setting them down on the couch next to him.

“I expect you to read every single one of those Dieter, I mean it.” You slide your panties down your legs, stepping out of them before hiking up your pencil skirt and straddling his lap. 

“Yeah, of course-“ His voice trails off into a strangled cry as you waste no time and sink down onto his length. You close your eyes for a moment, relishing in the feeling of fullness as he squirms a bit beneath you, adjusting himself. 

“I mean it.” You compose yourself quickly, frowning as he rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, I know-” You grab him by the jaw, your manicured nails leaving little crescent marks on his chin. Once his attitude dwindles you release him. 

“You will sit still and you will read your scripts, you will not speak unless it is to tell me you are done and you will not touch me without permission. If you’re good I might let you come.” You click your pen to accentuate your point, already getting back to work as you start filling out another form against his shoulder. “Is that understood?” You don’t bother looking at him, you already know what expression you’ll see plastered on his face. 

“Yes.” He sounds awfully satisfied with himself. Now you turn to face him, setting the tip of the pen underneath his chin to make him meet your gaze. 

“Yes, what?” Just as you suspected, he’s grinning from ear to ear, his eyes half closed as he leans back with a pleased look on his face, picking up one of the unread binders. 

“Yes, ma’am.” His cock twitches eagerly inside of you the moment he says those words. 

“Good boy, now read your scripts Dieter.”

a/n : this had basically no cock warming in it bc i'm feeling silly w these prompts but whatever lmaoo. happy first of october !!

#lincolndjarin #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #dieter bravo #dieter x reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fic

[mynameismckenziemae]

Outlet for your frustration.

You had the worst day at work and need an outlet for your frustration.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x you

Warnings: swearing, spanking, dom/sub dynamics, femdom, spanking, a sprinkle of ass play, humiliation, oral (both m and f receiving) smut. Let me know if I missed anything

———————————————————

This fic and everything I post is for 18+. MNDI. Do not repost my work without consent or steal my work. Reblogs/likes/comments would comments would make me happy, so please interact if you'd like (please be nice though, I’m sensitive haha). Blank/ageless blogs will be blocked.

A/N: So I don’t know what this is or what I’m doing. I’m not a writer. I’m not creative. This is literally the first thing I’ve written since high school and I’m in my 30s.

*Edited with Grammarly on 11/20/23.

The car ride is silent as you head home. You had the most frustrating day at work. Even the thought of turning music on overstimulates your fried brain.

Working in healthcare is difficult on a good day, but your specialty seems to get the brunt of crabby, rude patients.

You are the poster child of staying calm, cool, and collected—so much so that your coworkers don’t believe you’ve ever yelled or lost your temper. Jake’s friends adore his sweet, soft-spoken girlfriend. Jake himself hasn’t witnessed you be more than mildly disgruntled in the past 18 months of your relationship.

But today, you’d had enough. You just needed an outlet for all this frustration bubbling up inside.

___________________________________________

Closing the door with a sigh, you decide a shower to help ease some of the tension. Setting your bag down and toeing out of your shoes, you start stripping out of your scrubs on the way to the bedroom. You roll your eyes and smirk as you pick up one of Jake’s socks and his boxers.

 ___________________________________________

“You do know I’m not your maid, right?” I joke, bending over to pick up a pair of jeans he threw near (not in) the hamper.

A strong pair of arms wrap around my waist and there’s a hardness pressing into my ass.

“I know you’re not, I’m sorry. I always remember eventually, but you always pick it up before I get to it. I’ll do better” he murmurs, kissing my neck, “You would look damn good wearing one of those maid uniforms though”.

___________________________________________

A strangled, “Fuck” snaps you back to the present. Looking down at the sock in your hand, a wicked idea crosses your mind. You know just how to work through this frustration.

___________________________________________

 

You push open the bathroom door, with the sock still in hand. The sight in front of you sends a pulse of need straight between your legs. Jake is naked, wet and slowly stroking himself.

You clear your throat and he startles, his cheeks flushing pink at being caught in the act.

“Oh hey, you’re home. Sorry, I was—“ he starts.

“You dropped this" nodding to the sock, "and your boxers again. I had to pick them up...again. We talked about this just yesterday and you said you’d do better,” you say, dropping the sock and stepping into the shower behind him. You swat his hand away and take over, tightly gripping his hard-on, and giving him a slow stroke. “What do I have to do for you to remember, Jake?”

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re right. I’m sorry-“You put your finger to his lips to shush him.

“Do you remember what we talked about last week? About wanting me to take control sometimes? Rough you up a little?” You lean in to whisper in his ear while trailing the finger from his lips down his chest to pinch his nipple.

“Yessss” he groaned out, his cock twitching in your hand at your words.

“Yes, what?” You ask, pinching a little harder.

“Ma’am?” You nod. “Yes ma’am. Sorry ma’am” he says with a shudder.

“Mmm, good,” you say as you lean forward, sucking the abused nipple into your mouth.

“Fuuuuck” Jake groans again, his hand finding your ass to give it a squeeze.

You pull off his nipple with a pop and shake your head, grabbing his hand from your ass and putting at his side. “This is how it’s going to go. You don’t get to touch me unless I give you permission. You don’t get to touch yourself unless I give you permission. Now turn around and put your hands on the wall”.

Jake looks at you through hooded eyes, "Yes ma'am".

___________________________________________

He turns his back to you and puts his hands out in front of him; the water splashing onto the back of his neck. You snake a hand in front of him to flick the water off, then each of your hands grabs his ass, squeezing and kneading.

"Okay Jake, what's your safeword?"

"Rooster" Jake mutters after a beat.

You quirk your eyebrow at that; but choose to not press right now; tucking that information away to discuss at a later time.

"I think 10 for each item I picked up is fair, don't you?" You ask sweetly.

"10 wha-fuck!" Jake gasps as you deliver the first hit to the right cheek.

"Spanks, hits, strikes, licks…whatever you want to call them. 10 for the sock, 10 for the boxers. You're going to remember this every time you sit down tomorrow, Jake. Don't you have training all day tomorrow too? Your coworkers are going to see you squirm, trying to find a comfortable position. If only they knew it was because your girlfriend spanked you like a naughty, little boy." You say, landing a sharp slap to the left cheek.

"Oh God," Jake breathes out, cheeks clenching while his hips rock forward.

"That's two. You're going to count out loud for me. If you lose track, I'm going to start over. As many times as it takes. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am".

*Slap* Another sharp crack to his right cheek.

Jake groans out, "Three ma'am".

You give a couple more slaps, alternating each side. Jake keeps count like the good military boy he is; you can hear how wrecked he is with each blow.

After the fourteenth hit, your hand starts to sting, so you take a step back and admire your handiwork (pun intended).

You were already soaked from the sounds he was making and the increased desperation in his voice with each swat, but seeing how red he was getting was enough to make you throb.

"Oh, what a pretty sight you are. I wanna take a picture just to put it as my wallpaper. Maybe I should send it to everyone in your squad so they can see how pathetic you are standing there, bright red ass cheeks begging for more" you say as you squeeze his cheeks, feeling the warmth.

"No, please, no! I'll do anything. Please, ma'am!" Jake begs, hips rocking forward, looking for any type of friction.

Your hands travel from his ass to his hips, stopping his motion. Your right-hand shifts to grab ahold of his cock suddenly, giving him a few tugs easily from the copious amount of precum he’s leaking.

"I'm not sure this is a punishment seeing how hard you are. I guess I'm going to have to take it up a few notches." You say.

Jake's cock twitches at your words and he whimpers. Whimpers. You've never heard your tough, strong, military man whimper. Another strong wave of arousal pulses through you at the sound. You close your eyes as you kiss his back to compose yourself.

"Color?" You whisper.

"Green ma’am. So fucking green," says Jake.

You release him and stand to reach behind you to quietly grab the wooden bath brush.

“How many more, Jake?”

“Six ma’am.”

”Good boy,” you purr and you see a shiver roll through him.

You bring the bath brush down directly in the center of his right cheek. It makes the most satisfying crack.

Jake’s back arches and his hands tighten on the wall as he lets out a sinful, “Holy fuck”.

You give him a second to compose himself and clear your throat.

“Shit. Fifteen ma’am. Sorry ma’am.”

“I’m feeling generous since this is your first time. Don’t let it happen again.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The next stroke of the bath brush gets the left side and pulls another deep groan from Jake.

“Sixteen ma’am.”

The next two are slightly lower, directly on his sit spots. He’s definitely going to be reminded of this tomorrow every time he sits down. It sends a delicious thrill through you.

The following swing catches both cheeks. All the muscles in his back and ass tense as he’s fighting not to straighten and take his hands from the wall.

“Nineteen ma’am! Fuck! Wait, please…wait ma’am I’m close and I don’t want to cum yet. Please ma’am.” he whines.

You give him a moment to compose himself, watching him while running the fingers of your free hand through your arousal to circle your clit. His breath slows and he puts his arms back in front of him again.

"You ready?"

"Yes, ma'am".

The final spank hits him again in both sit spots and he cries out, hands slipping.

You drop the brush and kneel while turning him around. You close your eyes as you suck him down greedily, bringing the hand still covered in your arousal between his legs to press on his hole. He lets out a choked noise and his hands fly into your hair as he thrusts, once, twice, and empties down your throat.

You swallow and open your eyes to look up at him. He. Is. Wrecked. Tears are leaking out of glassy eyes, flushed face, and chest heaving.

"Are you okay? Was that too mu--"

"That was amazing, "Jake says against your lips as he lifts you to your feet and seats you on the shower bench behind you. "I've never cum that hard in my life. That was so hot. You're so hot. I've never seen you like that. So ruthless and cold and mean and hot. Fuck, that was hot."

You laugh as he kneels, throwing your legs over his shoulders, and dives in like a man starved, licking ruthlessly at your clit. You moan, grabbing at his hair and directing him exactly where you want him. You're so worked up from having him at your mercy that you're trembling through your orgasm in no time.

___________________________________________

You shower together after, and Jake asks about your day as he rubs your back and shoulders. You’re already feeling lighter by the time you get out.

As you're drying off, you snort as you catch a glimpse of Jake's bright red ass in the mirror. He turns to see what you're looking at and his gaze darkened as his cock twitches as he starts to harden again.

"You do realize I'm going to remember to put my clothes in the hamper now, but I might dump some out on the floor if this is what happens when you have to remind me," Jake says as he picks you up.

You laugh all the way to the bedroom, the frustration from the day completely forgotten.

 

___________________________________________

 The next day at training:

Jake did remember every time he sat down, he squirmed in his seat trying to get comfortable, and he spent the majority of the day with the sweet discomfort of arousal. Oddly enough, Rooster was the only one to notice.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #top gun smut #jake seresin x you #sub!jake seresin #jake hangman smut #top gun maverick #top gun hangman #smut #be nice #top gun fanfiction #top gun fandom #Jake hangman seresin smut

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

pls ma’am… may i have some more gaslamp!au? 🥹🫶🏻

"I don't know Stephanie this seems-"

"Please?" Stephanie pouted, "My stupid brother ruined you. It's the least I could do to get you some new dresses."

"You did find me a place to live and it's not as if I don't have things to wear," you point out.

"And some of them are lovely," Stephanie started, "But-"

"IF," Cassandra started slightly louder to cut her off before she could say something accidentally rude, "you don't let her she'll just have them made and they'll all be- well. Stephanie dresses."

"What's the matter with my dresses?" Stephanie asked archly.

"Nothing, dearest," Barbara said patiently, "except that they won't suit Y/N. Your coloring is different. And she's well- blessed- in ways that you aren't."

"So you see," Cass said, offering you a napkin to cough behind where you'd inhaled tea helpfully, "it really is for the best."

"I- I-" you break off, still sputtering and Barbara gets to her feet determinedly.

"Well," she declared, "if we're going out I'll have to send for a carriage. God knows we won't be carrying our own packages."

"And Tim," Cass said. "He needs to get out of the manor before the maids take to dusting him again."

"And Tim," Barbara amended, "he complains less anyway as long as we give him a book or two to read while he waits."

"What kind of book?" you ask curiously.

"Awful, boring things about math and chemistry," Stephanie sighed. "Honestly."

"Oh-"

"Dearest?" Barbara asked frowning, looking at you, halfway to the door, "What did happen to your books?"

"I- I don't know. I only- I'd imagine most of them were thrown away. Except for the ones I could carry with me. I didn't have many. I couldn't keep many after Papa died and I had to leave the house." Not for the first time, there's a hollow pang in your chest. You miss- you miss a lot of things. But sprawling on your belly in the drawing room while your father answered letters and reading out loud. The thought of your little collection being gone. After carefully carrying it from school to the attic. Hiding it from rambunctious hands and angry aunts. You can't stop the tears.

And you can't articulate why either. Not when it sounds so stupid to say out loud. You aren't a little girl. You're nearly on the shelf. Old enough that it shouldn't matter- but it does.

"Well that just won't do," Stephanie said. "Absolutely not."

"I don't- I'm sorry- I-"

"Hush," Cass said, handing you another napkin, coming to kneel next to your chair to pat your hand. "We'll get your books back- or at least. Jason will. Sometimes him looking big and scary can be good for something."

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert #gaslamp!au

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Moschino and Muddy Water [Emily x Reader]

 Prompt: You offer unsolicited fashion advice to a total stranger in the dressing room; aka when you meet Emily Prentiss in the Moschino dressing room and give her some much-needed confidence… and maybe something more. 

Category: Fluff/Comfort 

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: This is yet another @imagining-in-the-margins prompt from her Meet Cute writing challenge. Thank you for all the inspiration! Please know that I don’t have Moschino money, so if my writing about the brand or experience of shopping there is off, that’s why. I’m just giving my best guess as to what it’s like to shop at a luxury store like that. Also, I don’t love the current Moschino collection, but they seem like clothes Emily would wear to me. This is the first time that I’ve written a story in the second person. Please let me know if you like this formatting more than the third-person formatting I’ve done in the past. I hope you enjoy this story, and if you do - comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated! 

P.S. The reader uses she/her pronouns

List with all stories 

_s/s_ = shoe size 

_d/s_ = dress size 

_f/c_ = favorite color

_b/t_ = body type 

_f/j/c_ = favorite jewel color 

_f/m/s_ = favorite mall store

_y/n_ = your name 

_f/s_ = favorite senator 

_f/a_ = favorite artist 

You had spent the morning window shopping at the outdoor  Historic Downton Shopping Mall. She was currently standing outside the Moschino storefront with its crisp glass exterior and metrosexual, jewel-toned fall collection on the mannequins. _y/n_ would never stop at such a high-end shop, but a pair of boots had caught your eye and you really, really like them. _y/n_ thought, ‘Oh god, why do you have to torture yourself like this?’ As you walked into the store to take a closer look at those shoes. You justified the choice by thinking that she would take a closer look at the boots so you could try and find a convincing and far cheaper dupe online. As soon as you walked into the store a sharply dressed sales assistant approached her and said, “Good morning, Miss. Can I grab you a glass of champagne while you are looking around?” You smiled and said, “Yes, please.” The assistant nodded and moved into a back room for a moment. You heard the pop of a cork. While the woman was away, you looked over the dresses and jackets in the women’s section. You like this season’s collection and found a dress that you thought you had seen one of her coworkers wearing. The sales assistant came back and handed you a champagne flute and asked, “Is there anything particular you’re looking for today? Any style or event you’d like to help you with?” Now that you had committed to the bit by accepting the champagne you realized you were going to have to play that you were going to buy something, even though you knew you weren't. You turned to the assistant and said, “Well the black boots in the window caught my eye. I’m also looking for a new jacket; something that can transition from day to night.” The woman nodded and said, “Great. What’s your shoe and dress size?” You replied, “I’m a _s/s_ and a _d/s_.” The woman nodded and said, “I’ll go in the back to get those shoes. Feel free to look around the jacket sections -- it’s on the far wall.” 

You did go look at the jackets, but not before looking at the price of the dress you had seen her co-worker in. The number on the label took your breath away and you wondered how your co-worker could possibly afford something so expensive? ‘Maybe she’s loaded?’ you thought. You stepped toward the jackets and pulled one from the rack. The quality of stitching and the material used was impeccable. You placed the piece back on the rack as a _f/c_ dress nearby caught your eye. It would be perfect for work. You looked at it longingly and hadn’t noticed the sales assistant had come back. You nearly jumped out of your skin when the woman said, “Ma’am.” You caught your breath and turned, trying to look composed. The assistant motioned for one of the plush chairs on the floor. As you sat, she took out the shoes. You tried them on; you were happy they weren’t that comfortable, because with how good they looked on you, you might be tempted to waste two months' salary and eat ramen for two weeks straight to get them. The sales assistant said, “Why don’t you walk around a bit and see if you like them. There’s a mirror on the other side of the wall so you can properly see them. I also saw you looking at that dress and jacket. I’ll grab them in your size and put them in a changing room for you.” You smiled and thanked her. As the woman moved to the racks, you did a few circuits of the store and looked at the shoes in the mirror. When you finished trying on the boots, you moved back to your old shoes and put them back on. You moved to the dressing room. It was lush and as a grandiose, over-the-top addition the hallway that was lined with changing rooms was essentially lit like a runway with two towering mirrors on either end of the hallway. Just before the changing rooms, there’s a seating area full of neutral-color plush sofas and chairs similar to those in the showroom. For a moment you thought they might be for the poor husbands who were dragged out shopping with their wives. However, after a second look, the space was far too feminine; you ascertained that this was for mothers and girlfriends to coo and make recommendations on the fit and look of the clothes to be soon bought and stuck in a closet somewhere potentially to be forgotten. A shot of jealousy shot up you for a moment before you took a breath and let it out. You may not have come from money, but you were happy. You had a job that fulfilled you and that’s all that mattered. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when the sales assistant called for you. You moved to the dressing room she had picked out for you. As you peered into the large space you noticed two things. The first was that the woman had brought your champagne glass into the changing room and topped it up. Secondly, she had brought more than the two pieces into the dressing room. From your count, there were at least ten items on the small personal rack in the ostentatious room. The saleswoman said, “I took the liberty to pull a few more pieces in your sizes that matched the description of day to night that you mentioned. I’m going to let you try these items on. If you need anything like a different size or a top-up for your champagne, just let me know. My name is Kirsten, so please let me know if you need anything.” Kirsten graciously moved out of the dressing room and closed the door behind her. There was a satisfying click as the door automatically locked behind her. You relaxed after letting out a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding. The fact that Kristen hadn’t realized that you didn’t have any money to buy anything she had pulled for you was shocking, or maybe she was just taking pity on her and not making this a humiliating experience. Whatever the cause was, you took off your pants and shirt and tried on the first dress, the original one you had been eyeing. When you looked in the mirror it really wasn’t as pretty on you as you had anticipated. It looked great on the rack, but on your _b/t_ it wasn’t flattering. With that disappointment swept under the rug, you took off the dress and grabbed for the next garment because surely they couldn’t all look as bad as the first. 

As you slipped the second dress off the hanger you heard Kisten’s voice and a new voice a few feet from your dressing room. From what you could hear Kristen was talking to a regular. The jealousy swelled again, but you pushed it down again. The next two dresses were also flops and you started to try on the jackets Kirsten had picked for you, the new voice spoke. Whoever was in the changing room with you caught your interest. It was clear to you that whoever was speaking was on the phone. If you listened with concentration, you could hear some of the words being exchanged. Given this was such a stupid and surreal experience, why not listen to how ‘the other half lived?’ As you eavesdropped these were the snippets of conversation you heard: “Listen J.J. I’ve shopped here for years, but I don’t know about the Fall 23’ collection. If I buy these dresses and pants they will have to function for work and this date I’ve got coming up on Saturday… I can’t decide if this dress is tacky or chic” There was a long pause before the woman who was speaking said, “Okay, okay, fine, I’ll look in the big mirror if you insist.” You couldn’t help but leave your lush cubicle to see who this woman was and what someone who sounded like they had been a consistent customer for years looked like. You zipped up the hidden zipper of the _f/j/c/_ dress you were pretending to be trying on. After the zipper was up, you peeked out of the door to see the woman. She was still on the phone and hadn’t noticed you standing there yet. Your jaw almost dropped when you saw the woman. She was beautiful; the most attractive person she had seen in months. The maroon dress she wore hugged her body in the best possible way. Its plunging neckline showed her cleavage in a way that highlighted her form. Seeing her in that dress she realized who these clothes were made for. You could help yourself and you said aloud, “You look amazing.” At your comment the woman finally realized that she wasn’t alone and her eyes looked up to the mirror, locking onto yours. She turned and said, “Thank you. Do you really think so? I think the neckline might be a bit much” You smiled and nodded saying, “I think that dress was made for you. I couldn't help but overhear your comment on the phone and I don’t think it’s tacky at all. I would probably wear a cami under it at work, but other than that I don’t see any downsides.” The woman smiled and said, “Thank you. I needed to hear that. It’s been a rough week.” The woman took a moment to look you over, and you flushed as you felt her eyes quickly rake over you. She said, “You look great as well. That dress really suits you.” You beamed replying, “Thank you.” With slight hesitation and a bit of awkwardness, the conversation stopped and both women went back to their own stalls. 

You took off the dress and put it back on the hanger. As silly as it was, you didn’t want the woman she had complimented to see her walk out of the store empty-handed. You exited the dressing room and told the sales associate that none of the dresses or jackets had worked out, and she thanked her for her time and help. Outside the weather had turned cloudy and grey. It had been raining a lot that fall and it looked like the trend was going to continue today. You decided to go to a store you could afford. You looked around the racks of _f/m/s_ and picked out a suad purse. You moved to the front of the store and checked out. You spent some time just walking around appreciating the cool weather and people-watching. You remembered that you had a Starbucks gift card and decided to treat yourself. As you walked toward the coffee shop you heard a noise on the opposite side of the road in front of her. You looked over in that direction and found the woman from the dressing room. It seems that she had fallen for some reason. You became increasingly annoyed as a group of guys and a few women walked by and didn’t help her up. More infuriating was the fact that you could hear one of the men laugh, and you knew that if she could hear his nasal laugh the woman most certainly could. You quickly moved across the road, avoiding a slow-moving car, and knelt down near the woman offering her a hand. The woman took it with surprising strength and you leaned back to help her up. Not only had she fallen, but she had fallen in a puddle of muddy water, staining her crisp white shirt. As she helped the woman up, she said, “Thank you so much! You’re my savior.” You smiled and said, “I’m happy to help.” Once she was back on the sidewalk, you leaned down and got to her dropped shopping bag and purse from the puddle. You made sure the bag labeled Moschino didn’t have any water damage to the package. Thankfully whatever clothing the woman had bought was put in another box due to the quality of the product. You shook the bag slightly to remove any excess water. 

You noticed the reason for the woman’s fall was due to the fact that her right high heel had broken off. You couldn’t help but feel a bit of pity for this woman; she had said she had had a bad week, she had fallen and no one had helped her up, and now even her shoes were betraying her. Without even really thinking you said, “I was going to go grab a coffee and Starbucks, could I treat you to a drink? I’m_y/n_, by the way.” The woman looked at you and replied, “That sounds really nice actually. I’m Emily, Pretiss. It’s nice to meet you _y/n_.” You handed the Mischino bag back to Emily and you both moved down the street toward the Starbucks. As you were walking, Emily said, “You didn’t buy the dress from the dressing room? It looked so good on you?” You flushed but responded truthfully with, “I couldn’t afford the dress. I can barely afford Guess which is just a knock-off Prada.” Emily laughed at the last comment and you thought the sound of her laughing was the most beautiful thing you had heard all week. She replied, “Tell me about it. Why does shopping have to be so humiliating? First, you have to try on clothes and be disappointed when they don’t fit, and second, if they do fit, you can’t afford them! Certainly, men don’t have this type of problem while shopping.” You chuckled and said, “They most certainly don’t, but most men are wearing cargo shorts and Polo’s. A two-year-old could make the outfit.” You both burst into another fit of laughter. As you got to the Starbucks Emily opened the door for you. You both waited in line and as you got to the front you ordered your usual creme brulee latte with a shot of espresso and a pump of vanilla. You turned to Emily and asked, “What would you like?” She thought for a second before saying, “I’ll have a cold brew with sweet cream foam.” After you had paid you both found a quiet table in the corner of the store. 

As you sat across from each other you appreciated Emily’s face. You couldn’t stop thinking about how pretty she was. You were pulled from your thoughts when Emily said, “So, where do you work?” You replied I’m an intern for _f/s_ currently. How about you, Emily?” Emily replied, “I work for the F.B.I. actually. I’m a profiler?” At this, your eyes widened and you said, “Really? What’s that like; it must be dangerous I assume?” Emily nodded. She was looking at you and the way you were looking at her ignited a small warmth in the pit of her stomach. _y/n_ was looking at her with a kind and attentive gaze. Emily had been struggling with dating since she had joined the BAU and now, by fate or fortune, she was someone who seemed lovely. She was actually dreading her upcoming date, but didn’t want to cancel on the guy and have to explain that she wasn’t into him anymore. So she was going to savor this moment with _y/n_. She responded to the question saying, “It is. It is dangerous most of the time. But it has to be done you know. People deserve to live in a safe world. And that’s what I do.” There was a moment of silence after this before Emily continued, “So what’s an average weekend like for you apart from boosting my confidence by fifty percent?” As both Emily and you recognized how this feels like a first date this all felt. However, neither one minded, and you replied, “I like to sleep in if I can. Then get a workout in and answer some emails and after that, I’ll grab a coffee and do something fun if I have the energy. I have a penchant for used bookstores and vintage copies of Virginia Wolfe. In the evenings I like to listen to _f/a_ on vinyl while I unwind with a glass of wine. How about you?” Emily liked what had said and replied, “Oh my god, I love _f/a_! I was them in concert last year. I think I changed my life.” You smiled and said, “Lucky.” After finishing a sip of her cold brew, Emily said, “Well it depends if my team is on a case then I’m working, obviously, but if I’m free I like to get in a workout like Yoga or pilates. I cuddle my cat and spend time making a nice meal. I’m trying to see every art museum in the city, so if I can fit that in then I will. My job is pretty stressful, so relaxing stuff mostly.” You couldn’t help but think about Emily cuddling her cat, or maybe you were thinking of her cuddling you instead. Your face visibly reddened and you had to look away for a moment. You and Emily continued to chat as you finished your drinks and before you got up to go Emily went out on a limb and said, “Hey, _y/n_, would you like to do this for real sometime soon?” At hearing this the butterflies in your stomach fluttered up into your chest and you thought you might float up to the ceiling. You wanted to be sure you heard correctly and said, “This?” Now Emily flushed and she replied, “Would you go on a date with me? You seem really kind and I’d like to get to know you better.” You wanted to nod or scream with excitement, but something stopped you for a moment and asked, “What about your date on Thursday?” Emily shook her head and said, “I’ll cancel. He was rude in his messages with me and I was having doubts already.” You took in the information and nodded replying, “Then yes. I’d love to go on a date with you, Emily.” Emily’s face broke into a radiant smile and she said, “Great. What day works for you?”

As you planned the day and time for the date the chemistry was palpable between them. As they both walked to the door to go their separate ways, Emily held the door for you. Feel blossoming feelings Emily felt toward you surged as you turned away from her and she couldn’t stop herself from saying your name. You turned and there was a look of desire on Emily’s face. You stepped forward and whispered her name. Emily closed the gap between you. She took one of your hands and leaned down slowly. Slowly enough for you to say no if you wanted. But you didn’t want to say no. Instead, you raised up on your toes to meet her lips. They were as warm and soft as you had imagined. The scent of her light perfume overwhelmed you and you felt dizzy in an intoxicating sort of way. Emily was similarly reveling in your closeness. She lifted her hand and ran her thumb down your jawline. The kiss lingered, but it was polite and respectful and left room for more when the time was right for them both. As you parted for real this time as you walked toward the train you had never been so happy to have gone into that Moschino to look at shoes you couldn't buy in your life.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss #Emily Prentiss x reader #emily x reader #Emily fluff #moschino #criminal minds x reader #reader one shot #reader insert #Reader x Emily #emily prentiss one shot #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fluff

[nexility-sims]

𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡   |   BREIZH, ARMORICA 2008

❧  happy birthday, beloved friend @armoricaroyalty ! this post is so late, but it's done, and i'm happy to share it. i'll save the huge mushy note and just say i'm so grateful to have spent all this time building the best expanded crossover universe ever, to which "collabs" doesn't do justice—that, plus all the friendship stuff, too :^)

‎‎‎‎‎❛ Elise, in a restaurant she had never been to, wearing a dress she had never worn, waiting for someone she hadn’t seen in years, was uncomfortable. She maintained a good façade, however. Pretending her confidence was unshaken had become a skill. The doubt crept in as she pushed herself into ill-fitting molds—ones that, even after all this time, she couldn’t break herself enough to suit. At her best, she didn’t want to. The pressure got to her other times. She had felt it like an unwanted touch as she stood in front of a mirror and regarded the assistant who dressed her with wary eyes. Before instructing them to pull a dress to pair with heels and jewelry, she had swallowed her pride. She could imagine, even if she didn’t know what Leonor may wear to a luncheon, how it would feel to sit across from her. She wanted to be secure and able to enjoy herself, and the price was this particular kind of discomfort.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

Yet, once they embraced and began to talk, it dissipated. They had both changed over the years, although Leonor especially. She wasn’t the round-faced young woman—just a girl, really, barely out of her teenage awkwardness—Elise remembered. Still, they were transported from their table for two and back to the summer house. Some of the memories were still fond ones. They had talked and laughed many times before, whether as they had breakfast in the kitchen or as they watched Roz carefully collect shells on the beach. Leonor remembered the good times, too. Though this was the first time she requested to meet, Elise had received bouquets on the occasions she was in Armorica, either on her own diplomatic business or accompanying her husband. She knew Elise liked white roses. The note, always a thick card from Breizh’s premier florist, would bear only a signature.

She hadn’t needed Leonor to say anything, but it meant something now that she did.

TRANSCRIPT:

{Indistinct conversation, light music}

[S] May I bring you something else while you wait, Your Majesty? [E] “Ma’am,” please. And, no, thank you. I think that’s her now.

[L] What a treat!

[E] How long has it been? Almost a decade? [L] Since the wedding.

[E] So, tell me everything. How are you? [L] {Exhales heavily}

[L] I haven’t slept more than five hours in as many years, and I can count the days off on my hands, but I love every minute of it.

[E] It must be interesting work then. [R] Rarely boring.

[E] I enjoy having so much time with my children, really, but … I do wish I had more time for the kinds of things you do. [L] “Armorica’s Mother of the Year, Every Year.” Modiste.

[E] Women can have it all now, can’t they? [L] They can. You can. You’re a queen, Elise. You can have whatever you want. [E] It’s not that simple.

[L] It is. [E] There are expectations, and other people are involved in— [L] I’m sorry, Elise, but I know you. You’re confident, capable, and very smart. You should be able to do more than tote around babies and smile for family photos. It’s their loss if you can’t.

[E] I knew what I signed up for when I married in. I’m happy. Do I wish I could do more interesting and important work? Well, not that the children aren’t interesting and important, but… [L] {Laughs} I know what you mean. And, you know—

[S] Ma’am? Your Highness? May I send your requests to the chef? [E] Oh … We didn’t even look at the menu! [S] It’s prix fixe today, but I have been instructed to assure you we can prepare anything you desire, within reason.

[E] I’ll have what she’s having. [L] {Chuckles} To start, have Abelardo make us turkey stew. He’ll know which. [S] | I’ll tell him, Your Highness.

[E] Now, I have to ask: how is it, having your own little one? She’s getting big now, right? What’s she like? [L] {Laughs} She’s five—what is there to say?

[L] I stopped taking to her to work when the breastfeeding stopped … Three years ago? Dan and I try, but I’ve heard her call the nanny “mama” by accident more than I care to admit. We went to a dance recital before the trip. She already works so hard. It’s precious. [E] Precious is right! Sounds like she takes after her mother.

[E] I remember when mine were that age. You know what Rosalind was like! Freddy? Completely different, and Jacques—

{Elise continues talking}

{Elise, talking}

[E] —and, of course, Roz being Roz, she told Freddy— [L] I have a proposal for you.

[L] Dan and I were considering inviting you and Andre to dinner sometime this week. Do you think he would be interested? [E] Um—dinner? [L] I’d like to invite Roz, too.

[E] Well, I’m not sure. It is last minute, and they both have such full schedules all the time. I could suggest it to him and see, but— [L] Elise, it’s fine.

[L] It was an idea. I can see them another time. I’m just pleased that you were available so last minute. [E] I’m glad, too.

[L] I mean it, really. We haven’t had a proper conversation in a very long time, and I’m grateful you wanted to spend time with me. [E] Thank you for asking me out. Usually it’s just the flowers.

[L] I respect and care for you, Elise. [E] That’s very sweet … [L] I always have, and I always will. I didn’t always show it—quite the opposite—but it’s important to me that you know that.

[E] I believe you. I do.

[L] Oh, do you smell that? Chili, achiote … [E] Sounds spicy. [L] {Snickers}

[L] I had an idea while we were splitting that poached pear. [E] Did you? [L] An interesting and important opportunity for you. [E] Leonor… [L] | Leave it all to me. I insist.

[E] Thank you. [L] My pleasure.

#you won't believe the ordeal of posting this dsdfsf #n.collab #ch.leonor #ch.elise #reyes.outtake.2

[thiccpettybitch]

🕸 Bitter Sweet - Ch. 8 Miguel O’hara x F!Reader 🕸

I already had the idea of a Miguel POV, but an anon ask made me pull through! Please enjoy: a day in the life of Miguel O'Hara – Spiderman.

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Jerkin’ yer gerkin’, Minors DNI!

Ah~ New York at night!

The dark night sky illuminated the city lights, with cars honking as people enjoyed their Friday evening - some heading out for a night on the town, while others were making their way home. Pizza joints lined every other street, and food trucks tempted passersby with fresh falafel and tacos.

Miguel crouched on a rooftop, the aroma of a fresh pizza slice with a side of icy Pepsi making his stomach growl. But alas, he was on the clock, well... kind of.

He leaped off the roof, catching a glimpse of a man running on the pavement, crashing into a woman carrying her groceries, and sending her to the ground, cursing. Landing in front of the man, Miguel made him dig his heels into the ground, but it didn't help much, as the man slammed straight into him and fell on his ass.

"Sp-Spiderman?! Look, man, it's not what it looks like!" he stammered, trying to explain.

"That was rude of you. Why don’t you get up and help that lady back on her feet?" Miguel remarked sternly. The man appeared confused and scared, and Miguel almost felt a twinge of sympathy, almost.

Turning around, he glanced at the woman and her scattered groceries on the pavement, then back at Miguel. The man managed a sheepish smile, slowly getting up and walking over to the woman, his hands trembling slightly.

"I’m sorry, ma’am, m-my bad!" The man apologized, extending his hand. The woman scowled at him, about to smack his hand away, when she saw Spiderman approaching them from behind the man.

"Get your stu- Spiderman!" she exclaimed, swiftly snatching the man's hand and pulling herself up, causing him to stumble and fall forward on his face.

"Oh my god! My son is such a big fan! Do you mind if I get a selfie?" she excitedly asked.

"Of course, ma’am," Miguel answered, wrapping his arm around her and leaning in close to pose for the selfie. "What’s your son's name?"

"Marcus," the woman answered, passing him the phone.

Miguel held the phone up above them, clicking record as he filmed the two of them. He pulled the woman close, causing her to let out a small giggle.

"Hey Marcus! I’m here with your lovely mom; she’s out here helping me fight crime! She’s a real angel, and you're lucky to have such a tough mom! Make sure you tell her how much you love her this week!" he said warmly into the camera.

"And help take out the trash!" she quipped in, smiling up at him.

Miguel chuckled and turned to the camera again, "And the trash, of course! Very important! Stay safe out there!"

Miguel handed her the phone back, making some jokes and small talk while the guy was on the ground, collecting her groceries back into her bags. Once he was finished and once again apologized, she just gave him a dirty look but accepted the apology. Miguel grabbed him by the collar, tossed him up in the air, and webbed him up onto a lamp post, asking the woman to dial 911 as he was a known bag snatcher.

The woman looked on in shock, nodding her head before saying goodbye and thanks as Miguel webbed onto a building and swung away, off to the next one.

On another rooftop, he had a view down at the city below. A group of girls was piling around a food truck, giggling and cheering as they all received some much-needed gyros with extra garlic sauce, judging by the smell of it. Miguel's stomach growled again, and he forced himself to look away, observing a woman pulling a small child along. The girl seemed too excited by a woman with a dog walking past them to keep up with her mom.

Miguel webbed onto another building, swiftly swinging a few blocks, his eyes scanning around for anything out of order. He stopped on another rooftop, an apartment building with air conditioners on every window. Using his hand, he landed near a window, placing a hand on one of the air conditioners to peek down at the local corner shop.

Inside the kitchen of the apartment next to him sat a small girl eating her dinner. She grimaced down at a piece of broccoli, moving it aside with her fork, while her mother stood by the sink doing the dishes. The girl glanced up and did a double-take, her eyes widening with excitement. She pointed at him and was about to turn to her mother when Miguel brought a finger up to his masked face, motioning for her to keep quiet.

She nodded enthusiastically, smiling wide with one of her front teeth missing. Miguel gave her a small wave, pointing at her broccoli and rubbing his stomach. She frowned a bit shaking her head, that was until he brought up his arms, flexing them to show off his muscles, and then pointed at the broccoli again. The girl lit up, nodding and swooping the broccoli up, eating it whole. The little girl flexed her own arm and grinned up at him.

Miguel smiled, waving to her before leaping off the building, webbing onto another one and slowly lowering himself to the ground. Quietly, he opened the door, his hand clutching around the bell that would announce someone entering the building. He maneuvered inside, watching as the cashier held his hands up, a gun pointed at his chest.

"Put the damn money in the damn bag!" the masked man yelled, using his gun to urge the cashier to hurry up.

"Okay, okay! Please don’t-" the cashier stammered, but suddenly froze, staring past the robber, which caused him to flare his gun around again.

"Hey, what did I tell you?! What are you staring at..."

As the robber turned around, his eyes started from Miguel's feet and slowly made their way up to his masked head, watching as he towered over him. Miguel snatched the gun from the man's hand, throwing it behind him, and then grabbed the man by his collar, pulling him close to his face.

"Boo," Miguel said, with a mischievous grin.

---

The cashier waved as Miguel swung past him, off to another rooftop. The robber was webbed onto the store's wall, and sirens in the distance were closing in.

Perched on a tall building, Miguel pulled out his phone and began scrolling, thankful that the touch screen still responded to his touch with the suit on. Sighing quietly, he scrolled through some of his messages – a few selfies from Reilly showing off his gym time, six from Peter B with a request to go out for pizza (more like, "Can we go out to eat, and you pay?"), but he didn't mind.

When there wasn't any commotion or signs of trouble, he continued scrolling, choosing to browse through some social media. Swiping a few times, he chuckled to himself when he saw a Duolingo meme, shaking his head. Maybe he'd show you that tomorrow.

Switching over to his contacts, he swiped through them, stopping when he reached the letter that your name began with. A small frown formed on his face. He turned off his phone and clipped it back under his suit – an uncomfortable but necessary location.

He could have just sent that to you if he had your number.

"Ey! Give me your phone so I can send you a meme," he practiced to himself.

Nope.

"Give me your number so I can send you homework if you’re sick," he contemplated. But you came to class on time and weren't sick often, so it's not like he'd need to check in on you.

No, that's too out of nowhere.

Miguel shook his head, glancing around the city below him. The eyes on his mask narrowed as his eyebrows furrowed.

"May I... have your number?" he practiced, the words slipping out tentatively.

Sliding off the ledge, Miguel began pacing back and forth, speaking to himself, his arms motioning as he spoke.

‘’May i-‘’

Too formal

"May... Can I have your number? Do you want to give me your number?" Miguel muttered, feeling the words coming out awkwardly and forced.

Why did it sound so strange when he said it outloud?

Swinging around and using both hands, he pointed in front of him, trying to inject some confidence into his demeanor. "I'M SPIDERMAN, GIVE ME YOUR NUMBER!"

But it didn't work. He hung his head, dropping his arms to his sides in defeat.

Sigh... why is it so difficult?

Miguel's head whipped around as he heard shouting, jumping up on the ledge and perching, he looked around, trying to focus on the sound. A few buildings away, he honed in on a small takeout place. Miguel could make out a man hunched over a counter with a bloodied brow and a gun pressed against his temple.

Leaping off the building, he webbed his way to the building opposite the shop, scanning the scene. Three men held the man at gunpoint, money already in hand, and they continued shouting at him. Miguel quickly webbed onto a nearby building, swinging and gaining momentum. He took a quick turn, flipping in the air, and shot forward, sliding through the open door at the front, making everyone inside jump.

"Bro, I told you we should have just left!" one of the masked men said, throwing his hands up in the air and stepping back.

"Don’t fucking move, man, we got this!" said another man, the one holding a gun to the owner's head.

The third one just stood there; silently watching everything play out.

"Let’s all relax, no need for anyone to get hurt," Miguel said, raising his arms slightly and motioning for them to calm down.

"Man, don’t fucking move, or I’m popping the old man," the one with the gun warned, pressing it against the owner's temple, causing him to beg for his life in Spanish.

"No need for that. Tell you what? You let the man go, and I’ll let you walk out of here, no problem," Miguel assured, holding his hand up higher.

"Nah, you’ll just follow us. You gotta, like, cuff yourself to the store or something!" the nervous one said, pacing back and forth between the two other masked men.

"Cuff? Bro, he’s Spiderman! He don't got no fucking cuffs!" the one with the gun said, looking over at the nervous one.

"What? You never seen Batman do that? He's got, like, a belt with all doo dats!" the nervous one retorted.

"Bro, first off; it’s not 'doo dats,' it’s his Bat-Arsenal! You know, like gadgets and equipment, and shit! Second, SHUT THE FUCK UP, RICHIE! YOU IDIOT!"

The nervous guy gasped, mouth agape, throwing his hands up in the air and hanging his head back. He walked around the room, looking around in disbelief.

"BRUH! You just used my name in front of Batman!!!" he exclaimed.

"HE'S SPIDERMAN!" the man with the gun yelled back.

The man with the gun spun around, yelling at the nervous guy, who yelled back, both of them about to throw hands. The silent one just looked up at Miguel and shrugged.

Miguel webbed onto the gun, pulling it towards him and catching it. All three of the masked men stopped, slowly turning their heads to Miguel, silently staring at him. He tossed the gun to the owner, who caught it and froze. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife.

"Heh... uhm, so-" Miguel began, trying to break the awkward silence.

They all charged towards the owner, and Miguel sprung into action, getting to him first and lifting him over the counter to safety. He urged him to call the police before turning to the three masked men. Miguel skillfully dodged two hits from the angry one and the nervous one, retaliating by smacking the angry one in the face and kicking the nervous one into the silent one.

The angry one managed to land a punch, but he was swiftly kicked in the face as Miguel executed a backflip in the air. The nervous one stopped mid-charge, letting out a yelp as he watched Miguel's smooth movements. Miguel capitalized on the opportunity and smacked him in the face, knocking him out. Meanwhile, the silent one charged at Miguel, attempting a punch, but his fist was caught mid-strike. Miguel pulled him in, delivering a powerful smack that sent his face into the counter.

All three of them lay on the floor, groaning in pain. Miguel webbed them together, leaving them incapacitated on the floor.

"¡Muchas gracias, Spiderman! You really saved my ass!" The owner awkwardly stepped over the group, grabbing the sack of money from the floor.

"No problem, sir. Happy to help! Are you sure you're okay? You're bleeding," Miguel said, concern in his voice.

"Huh?" The man reached up and touched the cut, hissing and mumbling in Spanish as he brought his hand down and looked at the blood on his fingers. "Ay... mi mujer me va a matar."

Miguel chuckled and shook his head, "I think she'll just be happy to have you come home."

They both froze, Miguel going rigid with an 'oh shit!' look on his face under the mask.

"¿Eres hispano? ¿Spiderman es hispano?" the man asked excitedly as he made his way over to him.

"I- no… uh- no, I just-"

"No te preocupes, tu secreto está a salvo conmigo, Spiderman."

The man said, clasping his shoulder with a warm smile on his face. Miguel was about to say something when his stomach spoke for him, a loud growl echoing in the quiet room.

After a few minutes, the owner handed him a to-go bag full of some empanadas, the same big smile on his face. Miguel thanked the man and watched speechless as the owner walked over to the three men on the floor, crouching down and feeding them all their own empanadas, scolding them like a father would his naughty children.

"We're sorry…" they all said quietly and shamefully in unison.

"And you!" the man said, pointing up at Miguel, "No more fighting crime on an empty stomach, eh?"

Miguel awkwardly laughed, nodding his head.

"You come back here again, ¿entiendes? Maybe during opening hours though, bring your Pareja, I'll give you a discount!"

Hearing sirens closing in, Miguel saluted the owner, dashing through the door and webbing onto a building, shooting off. The owner chased him out the door, waving him off and yelling after him.

"¡Gracias! Spiderman!"

---

Miguel sat perched on a tall skyscraper, his mask pulled up to his nose as he ate and watched another episode of 'La Reina del Sur.' Reaching into the brown to go bag next to him, he snatched another empanada and eagerly took a big bite, catching some of the juices threatening to spill from the corner of his mouth and licking them up vigorously.

God damn, these are good!

Sirens blared, and Miguel cursed, quickly pausing the video and sliding it under his suit. He awkwardly readjusted it before glancing at the bag with a sad whimper at the last few empanadas left. Then, he leaped off the building, free-falling towards the ground.

Miguel webbed onto a building, swinging through Times Square and landing in the middle of the street just in time to scoop up a woman and leap out of the way of a car speeding through. The woman praised him nonstop, clinging onto him, and he awkwardly had to pry her off. He reassured her that everything was okay as he raced after the car being pursued by several cop cars.

Miguel swiftly webbed onto one of the cop cars as it went by, landing on its roof before using its speed to transition to another one and then another. He peeked down through the passenger window, startling the ride-along, who let out a scream. The captain, who was driving, growled at him, yelling for him not to get involved. However, his tone changed when shots began flying past them.

Both of them stared ahead in shock before Captain Stacy let out a sigh and yelled out, "You mind?" He motioned towards the car, and Miguel nodded, quickly climbing back up onto the car's roof. He smacked his hand against it repeatedly, calling out for them to speed up.

Captain Stacy certainly did. He pushed down on the gas pedal enough that Miguel had to grab onto the roof for stability until they got closer to the car. With a swift motion, Miguel webbed onto a nearby lamppost, letting out a loud "WOOOO!" as he got launched forward and gracefully landed on top of the speeding car.

The man who was halfway out the window aimed his gun at him, but Miguel was too agile and quick to react. With a skillful kick, he knocked the gun out of the man's hand, allowing it to clatter onto the ground, hoping that the approaching police officers would take care of it.

In one fluid motion, he reached in, grabbed the perpetrator by his collar, and effortlessly pulled him out of the car, tossing him to the side. Miguel shot out a web to ensure the man landed safely, and as he glanced up, he witnessed the fugitive being swiftly surrounded and apprehended by the waiting officers.

Miguel gracefully swung himself inside the car through the open window, catching everyone inside off guard. He nodded to the driver through the rearview mirror, flashing a cocky smile behind the mask.

"What the fu-"

"What's up, guys?" The man next to him stared in shock, his head turning between Miguel and the driver, holding a gun in his hand, speechless.

"Yo, you mind if I just-" Miguel swiftly snatched the gun from the man's hand and tossed it into the back, "Yeah, thanks, man! I appreciate it!"

Miguel swiftly incapacitated the guy in the back with one powerful punch, but his triumph was short-lived as the driver suddenly brandished a gun, aiming it at him and pulling the trigger. Thanks to his heightened reflexes, Miguel managed to dodge the bullet just in time, but the deafening gunshot left his ears ringing, reminding him of the danger he was in.

Okay, playtime’s over.

He grabbed the driver's arm and forced it backward, the sickening sound of a bone snapping filling the air as the man screamed in pain. The sudden jolt caused the driver to slam on the brakes, sending both him and Miguel hurtling forward. Miguel crashed through the front windshield, rolling a few feet away from the car, while the driver ended up halfway on the car's hood.

Groaning, Miguel pushed himself up, his hand instinctively going to his side, where he winced in pain.

Wear your seatbelt kiddos.

As he managed to get back on his feet, though still feeling a bit wobbly, Miguel looked up and saw the man sprawled across the car's hood, bloodied and barely conscious. He took a painful step forward, but then another gun was aimed at him, this time by Captain Stacy, who had arrived not far behind.

"Hands up!" the Captain demanded.

Miguel rolled his eyes, shaking his head in both annoyance and disbelief. "Really, Captain? Right now? I just got launched through a window, and that guy—"

"I said hands UP!" Captain Stacy interrupted firmly.

"Captain, this guy needs help!" the ride-along called out from behind them, checking the man's pulse.

Captain Stacy hesitated for a moment, glancing between Miguel and the injured man. Seizing the opportunity, Miguel swiftly webbed onto a nearby building and swung away, making a quick but painful escape. He could hear the Captain swearing after him, but he ignored it, focused on finding a discreet way to get back home without drawing any more attention.

---

He had made it home, carefully pulling his suit off and dropping it on the floor next to his bed. Next, he made his way into the bathroom, wearing only his boxers, and placed a newspaper on the floor before sitting down on the toilet. He grabbed his first aid kit, ignoring the stacks of newspapers in the corner that he used when he shaved his ball-

Not important.

He instead focused on the pieces of glass wedged into his side and forearms, grateful he managed to shield his face from the glass before crashing through it. Using a pair of tweezers, he began picking out the shards of glass and some dirt, hissing as he managed to extract a deep piece, causing his blood to drip down his muscular ribs.

He continued the process, doing the same on his forearm, inspecting himself in the bathroom mirror until he was sure there weren't any shards left. He then jumped into the shower, resting one arm against the shower wall, enjoying the feeling of the water washing over him.

The stinging on his arm and rib had stopped, indicating that he had indeed removed all the glass, and his wounds had started healing on their own. One of the best perks of being Spiderman was his accelerated healing, minimizing the downtime due to injuries.

Rolling his head from side to side, Miguel savored the soothing sensation of warm water cascading down his body, washing away the day's aches and soreness. The comforting flow of the showerhead caressed his chest and streamed down his torso, adding to the relaxing ambiance. As he closed his eyes, a vivid image of you appeared in his mind's eye. You standing there with him, your hair wet and flowing down your shoulders, gazing up at him with rosy cheeks and an enticingly bitten bottom lip.

His eyes shot open, and he was met with an unexpected spray straight to the face, causing him to curse as he frantically rubbed at his eyes, feeling utterly exhausted. Looking down, he allowed the water to cascade down his back, and he directed his gaze towards his hardening dick. A tired expression crossed his face as he contemplated whether the effort was worth it or not. In the end, his dick seemed to make the decision for him, providing a clear answer.

Ooh, yes~

Clasping down around his shaft, he began pumping himself until he was fully hard. He leaned forward, head against the wall, as he continued stroking his cock, eyes closed. He licked his bottom lip as he picked up his phase, imagining you on your knees there, ready to help him out.

He cursed, his eyes screwed shut, as he wrapped his hand around the tip, purposefully tightening his grip as his fingers grazed the underside of his tip, imagining that instead of his fingers, it was your tongue. Miguel's head fell back as he continued stroking himself faster, enjoying the image of you pressed up against the shower wall, ass facing him as he clung on to your hips, fucking you hard and raw as you moaned his name.

His hips involuntary thrust up into his hand, imagining himself smacking your ass as he got close, imagined what you would feel like when you tightened around him, glancing back at him and begging him to cum inside you. His thighs twitched and spasmed as he came into his own hand and the shower wall in front of him, panting loudly he took a moment before he moved, gaining control of his wobbly legs again.

Glancing up at the shower wall, he let out a tired groan, reaching for the shower head to wash away the day's grime. Grabbing the soap, he decided to give himself one final refreshing cleanse, hoping to wash away all the stress and exhaustion.

Miguel flopped down on his bed, emitting a slight groan as he pushed his suit under the bed with one hand while dropping the brown empanada bag on top of it. He chose not to feel ashamed about the fact that he stopped to pick it back up, rationalizing it by not wanting to litter. But, in truth, his fridge was bare, not having enough time on his hands to cook, and being too tired and too exhausted to get something on his way home.

Finishing the last empanada and the episode of La Reina del Sur he was on, Miguel put his phone on charge and fell back against the bed, one arm draped over his face as he enjoyed the soft firmness of his bed. Moving his elbow out of the way, he glanced at his alarm clock and let out a loud groan.

It was 4 am.

He knew he would get, at best, three hours of good sleep. The thought of getting up and getting ready for school made his stomach turn, and he let out another loud groan as if someone would hear it and let him off the hook. After all, he was intelligent enough to get into pretty much any university he wanted to. Besides, he had his eyes on an Alchemax scholarship; that was the only reason he even bothered with school.

Rolling over, his face pressed into the pillow, he let out one final groan before his eyelids felt too heavy for him to keep his eyes open.

Oh well, at least he’d get to see you tomorrow.

----

Translations: 

 ¡Muchas gracias! - Thank you very much!

  mi mujer me va a matar - my wife is going to kill me

 ¿Eres hispano? - Are you Hispanic?

¿Spiderman es hispano? - Is Spiderman Hispanic?

No te preocupes - Don't worry

  tu secreto está a salvo conmigo - your secret is safe with me

 ¿entiendes? - do you understand?

 Pareja - partner or significant other

 Gracias - Thank you

#miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #spider man 2099 #spider verse #spiderman across the spider verse #atsv miguel #miguel x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spider man 2099 x reader #miguel ohara smut #18+ content #minors dni

[mzmatusmoto]

Captain, Oh Captain~Rangiku Matsumoto

Anime/Fandom:Bleach

Pairing: Rangiku x captain fem! reader

Word Count: 839

Content Warning: Smut {18 plus only} wlw, Boob play, fingering, teasing, praise

Captain duties were abundant. As squad seven’s new captain, you had a difficult time warming up to your underlings and subordinates, replacing Captain Komamura’s (huge) shoes grew to be quite the feat.

Your office hardly had its empty days; squad members had their issues and you were more than happy to resolve them, yet it was comforting to know that they didn’t need you from time to time. 

The moment you collapsed in your chair, soft, strawberry-blonde hair engulfed your shoulders and neck, breasts bounced and bumped your back. 

You tensed at the feeling, then scoffed as your girlfriend wrapped her arms around your shoulder.

“Is there a reason why you snuck in here and hid your spirit energy?” you deadpanned but you leaned into her touch anyway. 

“Aw, and here I just wanted to help you relax, captain,” Rangiku purred. Her lips found the underside of your ear, pressed a few kisses there. “Don’t you want me to help you relax, captain?”

A shiver rushed along your back. Rangiku chuckled as if she felt it herself. 

“You’ve been working so hard, captain,” she said. Her words were slow, mirroring her the movements that followed: pushing off your captains haori and the top of your shihakusho as she slipped her hands under to fondle your breasts. “It’s my job as a lieutenant to make my captain feel good.” 

“Y-You aren’t even my lieutenant--shit, Giku!” you yelped, trying to speak through the sensation of Rangiku pinching and squeezing your breasts. “Lets hope I’m the only captain who gets this treatment from you--fuck!”

Rangiku nipped at your right boob now, eyes shiny and glancing up at you as she smirked.

“Only for you, y/n. I could be your lieutenant, giving my captain what she needs. Every. Single. Day,” Rangiku said with a kiss to the side of your mouth, neck and chest. “Captain Hitsugaya would understand.”

You tried protesting, although Rangiku’s fingers were quicker, you thought she’d give the stealth force a run for their money at how fast she untied your obi, stuffing a hand down your undergarments. 

Rangiku searched, finding your warm, yet slick center with a shit eating grin; you gasped at the contact.

“Have you been thinking about this?” she asked. Another kiss as she rubbed gently at your clit, pressing on it softly with one digit. Have you been thinking about me, captain?”

“Rangiku, I-I’m not your captain, j-just fucking--”

You moaned as Rangiku inserted one finger. 

“Oh, captain, if you wanted me to fuck you just tell me. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Another moan followed instead of your command. Rangiku curled the finger slowly all while squeezing your nipple and pressing hot mouth kissing down your neck, sucking at your pulse point oh so well.

“Please, Giku, I-I want you,” you whimpered. Your hands tugged at her strawberry-blonde locks, prompting the lieutenant to groan, sending her warm breath against your neck. “I-I want you to--”

Rangiku kissed you fully on the lips to absorb your whine.

“Ah, baby, you’ve got to tell me,” she cooed as she tilted your chin up with her finger. Her other hand continued to slowly play at your pussy, rubbing the lips with two fingers. “If you don’t, I’ll just assume you’d want me to stop. You do have a lot of paper work, I wouldn’t want my captain to fall behind.”

“No! I’ve got time to, just please, finish what you started and fuck me!” 

 Rangiku’s lips curled into a smile, you jerked at the touch, your hips twitched.

“Yes ma’am, captain,” she purred.

She collected your built up juices and slick then finally inserted a finger, making you moan and shudder in her arms. The lieutenant created a nice rhythm, curling her fingers a few times before finding your g spot easily based on how your thighs shook. She went faster; your breath grew quick as your stomach tightened and your hand went down to grip her working wrist.

“Mmmh, fuck! Don’t stop, right there! I-I’m so close!”

“Oh! Then go on, come whenever you’d like,” Rangiku said. She rocked against you, her own breath labored a bit in soft pants. “God, you’re so sexy, an amazing shinigami, a captain falling apart for me like this. I’m gonna come just from this.”

Her words sent you over the edge, your orgasm washing over you once the words poured from her lips; you cry was muffled when Rangiku kissed you, gently pulled her fingers out of your warm heat and wrapped her arms around you. 

“I got you, it’s ok, breathe,” she whispered against your lips. “You did so well. The duties haven’t been too hard, have they?”

You rolled your eyes. Why’d she have to bring up work after she was just inside you? A kiss to her lips managed to shut her up while your hands moved up her own breasts. 

“I don’t want to hear about work, will you let captain touch you?”

Rangiku giggled and leaned forward to capture your lips again. “Yes, ma’am.”  

#bleach #bleach wlw #rangiku #rangiku matsumoto #rangiku x reader #rangiku matsumoto x reader #bleach fanfic #bleach fanfiction #bleach drabble #bleach smut #anime smut #anime fic #anime fanfiction #rangiku x fem reader #bleach rangiku #anime drabble #anime drabbles

[asmallpinkfan3]

So heard you were taking requests for Death 👀

Could i ask for a Death with an outlaw/thief fox reader whos literally just Robin Hood

That sounds really cool, and since I can’t sleep this is coming right up!

Death with a fox outlaw! Reader who is just like Robin Hood.

Warnings: robbing, swearing and just a little bit of fighting, greedy rich people.

No specific pronouns.

Since there was no romantic or platonic specified ask it can be what ever you want it to be.

You robbed yes, but you had a reason to rob people. Only robbing from greedy rich people because they would do nothing to help you village when they needed it and knew they could help the people who were in poor condition.

It started when you were a teen, “please my shop is the only thing I have to keep me in business”! A man on his knees begged a man in a black suit. “I’m must say you people will do anything to keep your money in your small piggy banks”. The man smiled down at the man, his eyes were pure greed filled and his eyes burned into the man’s head.

“It’s such a shame I must say but I am buying your shop from you”. You saw as the man on the ground ball his fist and tears welled up in his eyes. That day you realized what you were gonna do.

That very night you broke into the greedy man’s home and stole anything valuable while he was drinking at the pub. Your ears twitched at the clock ticking. A small gasp fell from your snout and you ran to the clock, it was a grandfather clock. “This must be worth a fortune”. You stated, reaching a law out you pulled the clock from where it stood and put it on your horse. Returning back inside you saw the man’s safe unlocked, “he must have forgot to shut it completely”.

As you walked closer to the safe your eyes widened at the amount of money inside. Taking every last penny from the safe you put it into a separate bag and shut the safe. After taking anything valuable you rode home. “I’ll be damned if the man takes mr. jones shop away from him”. You spoke as you hid everything until you could sell them the next day.

After getting all of the money from the valuables you smiled as you walked to mr. Jones’s home. Knocking he answered and his wife opened the door. “Is mr.jones here ma’am”? You asked with the most politeness. She nodded and went to get him, walking out he was confused. “What are you doing here y/n”? He asked asks your ears twitched.

“I think this is enough to buy back your shop sir”. You told him taking out the money. His eyes widened so did his wife’s. “Where did you-“ “do not worry about it”. You responded to his question that you cut off. You smiled at him, handing him the money you turned. “Hey y/n”. He said you turned back to him with a questioning look, “sir”? You asked your ears falling back. “Thank you for this may you have a wonderful life”. He answered your question with a smile happy tears now forming in his eyes. “Anytime”. You smiled walking to your horse you jumped back in it riding home.

Now back to present you were fighting a guard. He slashed at your face only for you to dodge with ease, lowering your head you bit onto his leg. He screamed in pain and fell onto his back cradling his leg. His face turned back to you only for you to knock him out with your foot.

“Ah the mischievous y/n”. You turned only to see a wolf, “and who might you be since you know who I m”? You asked picking your blade pointing it at the wolf. He only grinned, “my name is death and I don’t mean that in a metaphorically, or any other fancy way I am death straight up”. He said and you felt a chill run up your spine.

“Are you here to collect my soul”? You asked a eyebrow raised. He let out a small chuckle. “No I’m here to collect the old man that you just robbed from after all it’s his time to go”. You lowered your blade and smiled, “the doors wide open so there’s that you stated pointing to the door that was busted from you kicking it in.

“Ah thanks I guess”. The wolf said walking inside. Putting the valuables on your horse you got in it about to ride off. “Hey after you are done with selling them I’ll meet with you again”. Death said standing beside the beside the knocked out guard.

“We’ll see about that”. You said as you rode off. The next day while you were taking a day off you heard a whistle. You held your knife close to your chest.

“It’s just me muerte”. You heard as you turned and pointed the blade at him. “I guess you weren’t lying huh”? You said with a small smile.

“Nope not at all”. You put your knife back into its holder on your belt, even in your own living room you couldn’t be to safe you never know who might be after you.

“Do you value you life at all”? He suddenly asked. You stopped mid track of fixing your belt.

“I do I steal from the greedy and give to the poor”. You answered, “I just use my life to give to others and I will die doing this”.

He smiled at how you lived, “you would die for someone that you wouldn’t even know but if they needed help you would put your life on the line huh”? He asked and you smiled.

“Of course it’s what I’ve been doing ever since I was a teen”.

“And that’s how it’s gonna be for the rest of my time”.

#death x reader #puss in boots the last wish #death puss in boots #puss in boots the last wish x reader #death puss in boots x reader

[rgr-pop]

you know i’m not at all a full time abortion organizer and i don’t want it to be my main thing i want to mainly be an abortion nerd and a little satellite training up my comrades and jumping in as needed but so like having said that,

i can’t even begin to compare what it feels like to work on abortion in the left to anything else. just nonstop swallowed resentment over the way your peers acted and continue to act on this issue. their open and overt nonchalance. at absolute best they don’t care that much, or most of the time forget to care. at worst—you know. this org in particular had an entire exodus of practically every abortion organizer. some of that bad blood is older than me and more complicated, but some of the stuff that i saw—well. i’m not going to rehash it because like i said the point is to snuff the resentment. but the full timers who left just fuxking seethe and hate us. abd they have every right but. and so nothing can be synthesized. and i see it all the time, anybody with any background in this in the org just 😬😬😬😬 and making comments.. and you know they’re trying. the vibes are BAD. so as a part timer you know i need to focus on the hard emotional labor of pretending like these people weren’t posting “chemical abortion” or at absolute best rare discourse 2 years ago. fact of the matter is growing up on the antis line is hegemonic and it’s my job to be gentle because it’s not like i’m in the clinic day in. and you can’t really be an abortion organizer and doing any other kind of socialism—nothing is more consuming. i’m a socialism doula for abortionists. i’m a socfem doula for socdems. in between… but my soul longs to be a hating ass bitch. instead i will put everything behind me and get these people to swallow the platform, say abortion out loud, with a smile… and take hating from the workers.. yes ma’am here’s the measly six hundred dollars i collected from them please don’t roll your eyes at me i worked so hard (crying) (not built for this)

#seeing others i have seen be Negative be Sweet For Greater Good inspired me IF YOU MUST KNOW