#recession pop is back baby

[birdsongvelvet]

I have to say, I never expected to like Sabrina Carpenter but the more I see the more I do because as opposed to pop stars trying to be profound and make a difference or whatever in the last decade or so she’s just like “here are my dumb fun horny songs and I’m going to laugh while performing them because they’re dumb fun and horny” and I respect that

[kittypryde98]

I swear, I don't know what kesha put in her new song joyride but I've been listening to this song on repeat for DAYSS. It's like she laced it with crack or something. I'm so addicted.😫

[tteokdoroki]

✩ — ANGELS SHOULD NEVER FALL THIS FAR FROM HEAVEN ⁀➷ everyone believes satoru gojo to be an angel. your mother considers her new son to be a blessing, even if he’s bratty and spoiled. but never once did think teasing him would make your step-brother to act on such ungodly desires. (3.2K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, smut, pwp, college!au, religious imagery, step-cest, groping, fingering, ‘just the tip’, exhibitionism, clothed sex, male masturbation, slight degradation, bratty behaviour, use of oneesan, unprotected sex, ruined orgasms, cumplay, fem!reader, step-bro!gojo.

things to note. lol sorry it’s been a while !! trying a new layout also posting this into the void while i work on kinktober eee !! idk i’ve had a rough time trying to write a one shot so im glad i could make this !! special thanks to @kishibye for beta reading. i hope you enjoy this bestie boos ily <3

“what are you doing?” there’s a sharp edge to the tone of satoru’s voice, splayed across his tongue that holds back a stream of curses. his eyes speak fury in their piping hot flames of wild cerulean as he watches you enter the kitchen and shoot straight for the snack cupboard.

you can feel the weight of his gaze as it crosses the slopes of your body, from the back of your head, twirling around your curves before ultimately falling to your behind.

playing innocent, you stand on your tip toes and grasp at the bag of chips you’re after. the ones on the top shelf. “whaddya mean ‘what am i doing’?”

“what do you mean what do i mean?” your step brother retorts childishly, as if you’re two kids fighting on a playground at recess.

you click your tongue and pay him no mind. “don’t be such a baby, satoru,” you wave a hand in his face in a haughty manner. “use your big boy words.”

gojo suppresses a whine when your shirt rides up and reveals your skin to gorgeous eyes. he lets it gargle around in his throat like the sting of cool mouthwash, before striding over to you — grabbing the chips and slamming the cupboard shut so hard it makes you jump.

“you can’t just walk around dressed like that.”

he gestures to your get up — the clothes you wear when nobody’s home. your sapphire silly and scallop-edged panties, your old and ratty band t-shirt haphazardly thrown on.

“why?” you turn around to come face to face with your younger (step)brother, noting the way his stare hones in on the plush meat of your thighs as you squish them together — leaning back against the kitchen counter.

“my friends are coming over.”

“so, what’s the big deal?” there’s something about pissing gojo off that entertains you. he’s a brat by all means, raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and daddy’s dollars tucked into his pockets. whenever there’s a problem, all it takes is a classic ‘toru temper tantrum and your parents are on the scene to fix things for him. he’ll never know the hardships of being raised by a single mother, always having a little less than most. he walks around in his own little bubble of riches - and you can’t help but want to pop it. “shoko thinks i’m cool and geto will probably jack off to me later. it’s whatever.”

“but it’s not whatever,” you can practically see satoru fight the urge to stomp his foot like a petulant child — even going as far to have the audacity to pout down at you. “you’ll just embarrass me. so do us both a favour and put some clothes on, nobody wants to see all that ‘round the house.”

“do you own this house?”

“no but i-“

“but your daddy does. and daddy isn’t here! so shut up, satoru!” jabbing a finger into his chest, you smile up at your not-so-little little step-brother, evilly. “i make the rules.”

“oh fuck you. all you do is mooch off of my dad, princess. you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your mom whoring it out for him.” he sneers in response, upper lip curling into a distasteful snarl like a dog with a stranger on its territory. his words, though cruel and foul, are far from the truth and you know that he doesn’t mean it. satoru is a brat that throws acid laced words at anyone who gets in his way — yourself included.

even though you agree that your parents tied the knot all too fast — barely giving the two of you a chance to get to know each other as siblings. they were in love and far too happy for the rivalry between their children to get in the way. you know that the fact pissed gojo off to no end, he hated how your mother doted on him and how he’d always needed to fight for his father’s attention. now it certainly wasn’t ever going to be on him. but the two women in his house instead.

your poor, spoiled, baby brother.

however, you won’t let his words and how he projects onto you, hurt you. “whoops! looks like i dropped my will to give a fuck!” whilst pretending to drop your snack, you bend over in front of him to reveal inches of beauty marked and blemished flesh, drawing hungry seafoam eyes to the bounce of showing your ass — testing your little step brother. “i don’t care satoru, i’m older.”

satoru’s mouth snaps shut after moments of wordlessly opening and closing. he stands frozen on the spot, as if he can’t seem to process the very idea that his older step-sister had just flashed him to prove a point.

but just when you think you’ve won, the silver-haired brat is pressed right up behind you, forcing your body to bend over the cold marble counter that instantly has your nipples hardening against the icy surface. heat rushes to your face, blossoming just under the barrier of your skin as his hard on nestles it’s way between your ass cheeks — a symphony of your surprised squeaks echoing through the modern kitchen.

“hey! what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

instead of responding, he pushes your head down against the counter — circling his increasingly wet erection against your behind, manhandling the globes of flesh back onto his dick. “not so fun, is it.” he coos down at you, voice chilly and full of condescending highs and lows. “yanno…you’re awfully mean to me.”

saliva pools on your tongue, weighing it down in your mouth like a paperweight as satoru’s girth slips downwards, seedy tip brushing over panty clad and your swollen clit. “aren’t oneesan’s s’pposed to take care of their baby brothers?” his breath is hot and ragged against your ear as gojo haunches over you, caging you in like a wild animal as you thrash and writhe under his touch.

you can’t even bring yourself to feel an ounce of shame when gojo’s left hand dances between your tangled limbs and slips past the frilly band of your underwear — ghosting over the throbbing pearl laying between your sticky pussy lips. “step…step brother!” you whinge at the tingle of pleasure that blooms in your lower tummy and spreads like angel wings throughout the rest of your body. 

satoru takes turns playing with you, alternating between his nimble, skilled fingers and his seedy girth that smears precum all over your inner thighs and panties. “like that even fuckin’ matters.” he laughs, twisted and proud. “could you get off like this? yeah i think you could…. you’re already so wet. just from grinding on your little brother’s cock.”

your legs grow shaky at his ministrations, beads of your juices oozing from your empty entrance to stain the man’s sweats, slicking him up as if it’s a signature of your claim. “‘toru!” you gasp, eyes rolling back into the depth of your skull. “m-more.”

“look at how fast you fold for me…” he pushes up your shirt so that the fabric pools around your waist — pawing at the fat there, massaging your hips softly as if he isn’t violently, cruelly rubbing one out on your achey pussy. “i don’t think you’re in a position to ask me for more, big sis.” satoru taunts, a heavy hand coming down on the bare skin of your ass, leaving a raw handprint in its place. “such a nasty slut, i bet you’d let me fuck you like this too. out in the open, where anyone could catch us.”

you yelp in surprise at the feeling of gojo’s messy, cream coated cockhead nudge at your entrance from over your panties — a slender finger pulling the soaked material to the side so he can fuck you with his tip. “oh, i bet you’d like that, huh baby?” he continues to purr, jutting his hips forward ever so slightly — feeding your greedy cunt a few more inches of him. satoru’s barely sheathed inside of you, but you’re already stretching deliciously around what he’s given you. he’s fat, girthy just as he is long and his mushroom tip drags along sensitive spots in your walls you didn’t even know you had.

 he hasn’t even fucked you properly yet.

you sob, wail and writhe on your little step brother’s cock, nails clawing at the marble counter while your breath escapes you. “satoru, please fuck me. ‘m sorry… sorry—!”

“shh big sis, you’re being too loud,” he cups a hand over your mouth. gojo eases two digits past your plump lips to pacify your cries as he shallowly pumps his wet cock into the heat of your sex — gritting his teeth to hide his own moans. “we…fuck, you’re tight as shit… we wouldn’t want my friends to know that you dress like a slut for my cock, would we?”

you shake your head with a muffled moan, suckling the taste of yourself from gojo’s fingers and breathing heavily through your nose. “no, we wouldn’t. that’s right. good girl, oh shit.”

satoru laughs, a little cocky and a little drawn out in a long, whiny whimper over the wet slap of the backs of your thighs in the front of his own. but he trembles from behind you, like his legs are about to give out every time your creamy cunt sucks a little more of him in. it’s a miracle he’s managed to hold you both up.

guilt wracks your body intertwining with the red blood cells coursing through your veins and carrying limited oxygen to your brain — your head practically empty at how your little brother ruins you on half of his fat cock. this isn’t right, this is completely wrong and yet you feel yourself coming undone — weak in the knees and shaky in your lips, the dam in your lower tummy threatening to burst at any second and flood the room in an erotic river of your arousal. 

pushing your head off of the counter, you lean into satoru, throwing your ass back onto him in rhythm with the harshness of his thrusts. everything is hotter, heavier and you can’t even think about how much of a bad step-sister you are when he’s dominating your body like this. the silky locks of satoru’s silvering hair press against your shoulder and he wraps a fist in the fabric of your shirt to pull you further back onto his cock. 

“‘m gonna c-cum, oh god!” you squeal, flinching as your juices crudely slap against the kitchen floor. “i’m so close!”

he pants into your ear like a desperate dog, fully wrapping himself around you and trapping you against the counter so that you have nowhere to go except towards your high. “yeah?” gojo breathes heatedly, temperate breath cascading over the back of your neck and only adding fuel to your fire of desire. “i can tell, you get like this. all needy ‘n cute when you’re about to cum.” 

his words have you clenching around his bulbous tip every time it pushes up against the pleasure spots you didn’t even know you had — your arousal catching in the pretty blue veins that spiral around the length of gojo’s shaft. “you don’t think i can’t hear you, big sis? late at night when you think everyone’s sleepin’….” his whistle tone moans are quickly replaced by deep growls and grunts that only just manage to escape from between the gritted rows of your step brother’s pearly whites. “when you stuff those tiny fingers into that tight little hole and—“

he reaches down between your mess of slick soaked limbs to land a harsh smack against your quivering pussy, sending the foamy ring of white where your bodies join flying about the place. “—and make yourself cum to the thought of me?” he continues, breathing ragged and laughing at you again when you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. 

“s-satoru!”

he soothes you with quick circles over your swollen clit and kisses to your shoulder — being careful not to leave marks. “oh did that hurt, baby? am i  the mean one now?” licking a stripe up the side of your face and tasting the sweat on your glistening skin, satoru rambles on — filling you up with praises and copious amounts of precum. “you know i—fuck— you know i love you. my precious big sister, so fucking good to me. let’s make you cum, yeah?” 

you’re allowed to rut back on him for a little longer, since he loves the sound of his name whirling around messily on your tongue, all high-pitched and sugar coated for him. if only you knew how badly he’d wanted you, how pissed he was when his father went on to marry your mother. gojo has wanted you since the very first night you met — his every waking thought has been carefully carved to lust after you, think of your eyes, your smile, your lips. fuck, everything about you has satoru under some kind of spell. 

“r-right there. right there, t-there!” you chant the words like they’re the a prayer, as if they’re the only ones you know, allowing satoru to throw you through the loop of pleasure until you’re too far gone to stay on the ride. 

angling his slender hips upwards, his cockhead bares down on the gummy centre of your g-spot just has he buries himself inside of you — right up to the hilt. “h-here? this where you want me, big sis?” gojo’s amused gasp turns into a coo when you let out a meek hum of agreement, babling wild nonsense and drooling into the counter you’re pressed against. “mmhm, got you creamin’ around me already. so cute, so good when you listen. when you’re a good t’me, oneesan.” 

the honorific alone has your mouth running dry as if it’s been stuffed with cotton. though the syrupy pap, pap, pap of your sex says otherwise. it tells the truth of your sin.

and the thing that you don’t know about satoru is that he loves to give, feeding pieces of himself to you as he fucks you wild in the middle of your family kitchen. he wants you to have all of him, every corner and inch of his body just like he dreamed about. he knows it’s forbidden and that it’s wrong, but he can’t help but relish in the feeling of your pretty pussy sucking him in so selfishly, greedily clamping down on his thick base. 

he would give you anything. anything you wanted and asked for if you’d let him. his hands slip from your waist to intertwine with yours splayed out on the cool marble surface, using his last spurts of energy to drag you towards your orgasm and the deep depths of sinner’s paradise. 

“fuck me, fuck me, baby.” he growls possessively against the shell of your ear. “let go for me. lemme see how much you love your little brother—“

the crescendo of your pleasure is at an all time high, about to come crashing down on you like a tonne of heavy bricks. 

that is until the door bell rings, accompanied by the sound of geto’s voice from the outside of the house. “yoo, satoru! open up!” 

you’d think that you’d have been good enough for your little step-brother to keep going — to push onwards and let you cream all over him before he went to attend to his silly little friends. but he flips the script, pulling out of you just as you teeter over the edge to ruin your orgasm.

“no, no, please!” you sniffle, teary eyed with dissatisfaction sitting in your lower belly — the need to cum still there but the feeling of emptiness within your dripping walls taking over. “satoru…” you whine.

when you look behind you, he’s too busy finishing himself off — his black shirt between his teeth, sweats hanging low on his waist while gojo palms  his hard and heavy cock as he pleases. 

it’s coated in your arousal, shining under the artificial lighting in the kitchen and you watch with a pout as gojo jacks himself off to the view of your ruined cunt. he thumbs the seedy slit at the centre of his bright red tip, hissing through the sensitivity. he’s a picture perfect vision, appearing as an angel before your very eyes. a mop of halo white hair flop backwards with satoru’s head, rich sapphire eyes locked behind fluttering lashes that glisten with pearls of pleasure filled tears. 

you know not to be mistaken, you know that satoru is more like an incubus than the heavenly being he presents as. the parts of your brain with better judgement see him as the sinner who made you fall from grace, committing such a heinous act. the desperate side of you with a brain full of lust and smoke screens sees your step-brother as a god who controls all of your desires. 

you think you prefer that side of you more. 

meanwhile, a drop of sweat runs a track down the length of satoru’s neck, catching on the curve of his Adam’s apple as he swallows down his euphoric laments. you find yourself jealous that his own fingers are wrapped around his sloppy dick instead of drawing shapes against your aching clit. you envy how good it must feel for satoru when he finally cums. ropes of thick white sling around his knuckles, much paler in contrast to his pearlescent skin tone.

a deep, gravelly moan erupts from his hot mouth like lava, accompanied by curses and the stuttered syllables you recognise to be your name while he finishes himself off. gojo jerks his sensitive cock over your ass to paint you with the last spurts of his release. it’s a claim on you as your step-brother, a way in which he can show you that he always gets his way no matter what.

whilst still recovering, your step-brother drags a slender finger through the puddle of cum he’s left on you, and drags it down to your stretched little hole before pushing it against your overstimulated clit. “hmm, so pretty.” gojo grins, slow and sly, when you twitch and attempt to jolt away from him. then unexpectedly, he lands a hard smack against your bum — revelling in your sweet cry of pleasure, impatience and pain. “go put somethin’ on, will ya, sis? my friends are still waiting outside.” 

“i…i hate you.” you whimper shakily, brain frazzled from the situation. 

satoru might be a spoiled brat, but he’s not mean enough to leave you here a shaky, dripping mess so he helps you to your feet — tenderly fixing the hem of your shirt and panties back into place (failing to wipe his cum off of you beforehand). you’re still pouting from your ruined orgasm once he’s done, and he nudges the underside of your chin with a singular knuckle. 

“don’t worry big sis, i’ll come take care of you later. maybe i’ll even let geto watch since you love prancing around half naked for him too.” he teases, squishing your cheeks as you try to swat at him. “and you don’t hate me, you love me and this cock. clearly.” gojo sings and sends a cheeky wink in your before prancing away to open the door for his friends. 

he pulls his pants up as he goes, not minding the wet patch you’ve left on him. 

whereas, you scurry up to your room before they can greet you and gojo tells them that you’re feeling unwell. 

that day, you learn two valuable lessons: 

one —  never mess with a spoiled brat, it’ll never end well for you and gojo will always get what he wants no matter who pays the bills. 

two — geto really does like to jerk off to you, even more so when he watches his best friend punishes his older step-sister with enough orgasms to make her forget why she was in trouble with satoru in the first place.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[cinnademon]

Lately @threewaysdivided 's OlderBrotherDanny!AU has been occupying the majority of my brain space so I've just had to draw a few somethings for it 🥰🥰

We've been volleying ideas and headcanons back and forth about this AU and we've come to a consensus about a few significant features:

With the exception of his eyes and nose, Danny is the spitting-image of John Grayson while Dick has mostly inherited Mary's facial features

Danny and John share the Grayson family tradition of Big Bushy Brows™️

Since 3WD and I are big fans of the Danny-Has-Very-Light-Blue-Eyes train, @threewaysdivided has come up with an awesome headcanon that Danny's unusual light eye color is a weird recessive trait that pops up every few generations in the Grayson family

The reason that Danny was adopted out at birth is that he was born premature and with congenital defects that would have made it unsafe for him to be part of the troupe, least of all a traveling circus

I have to say, drawing baby Danny with his little messy mohawk has given me a lot more joy than I expected it to, I can't stop looking at it 🥺 I love looking at Brother!AUs, they never fail to make me reach for the Kleenex.

If you guys want, share some of your favorite Brother!AU headcanons in the tags or notes! All these juicy new headcanons are making me itch to draw them ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[delirious-donna]

I Will Possess Your Heart [Nanami Kento]

an: I started thinking about Curse User!Higuruma and naturally that led to me writing... Curse User!Nanami (why am I like this?). I haven't explored this AU for him before so please be kind <3

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: dub-con (reader is willing but the warning is there so take it how you wish), Curse User AU, slight yandere behaviours, toxic traits, spanking (with open palm), unprotected sex, thoughts of baby trapping, breeding kink

Masterlist

For weeks you had been on edge. Conscious of the impossible presence that seemed to lurk in every shadowy recess, the malicious whisper of laughter on every breath of wind and the scent of someone who was long gone. Were you afraid? You should be, but you weren’t. 

In the back of your mind, if the faint traces of Cursed Energy that you sensed before disappearing as quickly as they emerged were real, it meant that he wasn’t dead, that he hadn’t been captured and executed as you had been informed.

Satoru swore he was dead, that you should put him out of your mind and move on. Especially after his betrayal, after his bloody rampage that took out more sorcerers from the three big families than any Curse User in the past twenty years. Yet, you loved him. Grew up standing right beside him until… 

Kento snapped.

You shook off the feeling of unease that had followed you around all day like a personal spectre, finally kindling the sense of security that came with approaching your apartment. It was new to you, decked out in the highest-grade security equipment that money—specifically Jujutsu High’s money—could buy.

Whilst it didn’t quite feel like home, at least you were protected. You waved at the guard posted in the entrance hall, smiling when they blushed and turned their eyes from you, a scowl creasing their brow. Shaking your head in humorous exasperation, you travelled the remaining distance to your front door with the tension of the day melting from your shoulders.

Little did you realise that the precious bubble of safety you believed yourself to be protected by was about to pop like a thorn piercing an overinflated balloon. 

Kento observed from the shadows, watching, seething. They’d moved you. Lied to you. Kept his name from caressing your tongue, and he had more than had enough. He hated the games played by the higher-ups of the Jujutsu world, hated the politics and strategic alliances of the big three families which were no more than thinly veiled facades to cover the knife in the back that was around every corner. Power play far worse than the corporate drudgery he had tried to escape to, though he was ashamed to admit how long it took for him to finally open his eyes to it all.

They deserved what had transpired. He would ensure that the pain he inflicted would only be the first taste of his retribution. Hate was too emotional a word to use for those he considered to be less than human, and it was his mission to be the one to eliminate them all. Perhaps, Suguru had been right all along.

You were the exception, the one and only person he wanted to protect from the white-hot fury that poured through his veins like magma spewing from an erupting volcano, its path steady and devastating. He was still furious, and rightly so. The second you turned your face from his, he felt the last shreds of his bruised heart wither in his chest. You turned to Satoru and Shoko instead of moving towards him. You chose to remain in a world that cast him out, that actively tried to hunt and bring him down. 

He refused to believe that you had picked them over him. No. You were bewitched by the six eyes, hoodwinked by a false narrative that they were the good ones, and he was the monster. Kento couldn’t blame you, he had believed the lies for just as long and it was only now that he stood on the outside, peering in, that he could recognise the lies for what they were. 

It would be okay. He would enlighten you. After he punished you.

The front door unlocked with a quiet snick; the interior bathed in cool darkness that held no hint of the impending situation. Your fingers instinctively found the light switch, flicking it once and then twice when the bulb didn’t flare to life as it should. Click click click. Had there been a power outage? No, the neighbouring apartments were as well-lit as normal. 

Something crunched underfoot when you stepped deeper into your apartment, and that was when you realised the trap you had fallen into. Only then did your nose inhale the warm scent which had plagued you for all these long weeks, the rich aroma of expensive coffee mixed with leather and spices you couldn’t name. Only now did it intertwine with coppery, bitter notes of blood and the unforgettable reek of death. An impossibly hard body slammed into your back, sending you tumbling forward and only just catching yourself before your knees slammed into what you now knew was the broken glass of the bulb above.

The bodily contact lasted all of one second before he disappeared again. Your eyes had yet to adjust to the pure darkness that no longer felt comforting, and fear kept you from bathing yourself in the brilliance of your Cursed Energy, certain it would only help him target you all the quicker. Instead, you slapped a hand over your mouth to silence the sound of your breathing, crouching into a defensive position and fumbling forward. You weren’t as intimately familiar with the layout of this apartment as you were with the one you had lived in prior. All you could do was control the pulse of fear thrumming through your body and ignore the competing reaction that spoke of hungry anticipation. 

Kento smirked, head canting sideways whilst he watched you flail pathetically. If you wanted him dead, then he would already be a corpse on the floor, but that would never be the case, would it? His eyes had long adjusted to the absence of light, gaze following you around the room as you bumped into furniture and flinched at every touch. He could smell the terror escaping your pores. He could almost taste the frantic beat of your pulse on his tongue. Patience wasn’t a new concept to him, but right now... he found his fingers flexed deep into his thighs.

He waited until the kitchen island was at your back, stepping with silent footsteps around you and leaning back against the granite. You moved in a slow, perfect circle with your arm outstretched. Your fingertips came within an inch of grazing his abdomen, but alas, his calculations were as perfect as ever. When your back was to him once more, both arms shot out to tug you with one forceful effort into his chest. You struggled; arms pinned by your sides, but his hold was impenetrable as it always had been.

“Kento?” 

Kento laughed and even to his ear it sounded cold and devoid of emotion. “A silly question,” he answered. His voice was rough, unused for many days and the effect resulted in a ripple of something unspeakable down your spine, dripping—dripping—until you swallowed harshly and tried to twist your head around to see him.

“I think not... that luxury will be earned. I didn’t take you for such a silly girl,” Kento mocked, tightening his hold on your biceps until you squirmed in painful discomfort. “But then again, I didn’t take you for someone who would abandon me, and I was proven wrong there.”

You felt the temperature of his body skyrocket. His essence crept into you in every imaginable way, tendrils of his fiery anger licked against your bones and whilst you wanted to sob at this unexpected reunion, the rational part of your brain roared to life. He left you! He abandoned his friends and colleagues. He broke the hearts of the students who looked up to him, and yours... your heart hadn’t even begun to mend. The relief you should have felt for knowing what that poor shell of a heart had done all along, that he wasn’t dead, was a secondary reaction.

“I didn’t abandon you. How dare you say that... I thought you were dead!” 

“Did you now? I guess I should add stupid to your list of transgressions, or perhaps gullible would be more fitting. Since when did you take everything the six eyes tells you as gospel?” Kento gripped your chin with finger and thumb, the scent of his skin so close to your nose that the salty tang invaded effortlessly. With one fluid movement, he wrenched your head around and pressed a hot kiss to your lips.

The action was so unexpected that you gasped into the depths of his mouth, lips parted in surprise and Kento refused to miss the opportunity to let his tongue curl past your teeth and stroke along the pink muscle he had long admired and desired above all else. He tasted like coffee, nothing to be surprised by, given his penchant for the most expensive French roast. What did blindside you, aside from the kiss itself, was the sweet caramel that chased those bitter notes. Even now, the mellow caramel burst upon your tastebuds and brought an abundance of saliva to your mouth. The kiss was heady, all teeth and tongues, until it ended abruptly, and you were shoved forward.

It was a well-aimed push to propel you over the seat of the kitchen stool, and he smiled when he heard the air knock loose from your lungs. Before you could brace your arms onto the plush leather padding and try to stand, he moved up and let his heavy palm rest at the back of your neck, squeezing firmly. “Hold onto the legs of the stool, let’s see if you can redeem yourself.”

Did you wish to redeem yourself? Did you even believe you had anything to atone for? Shockingly, your hands trailed lower until your fingers curled around the cool brushed metal. Your heart was in your throat. Tears threatened to sting your eyes but only the desire to grit your teeth and prove that you were still the woman he had once trusted above all others outweighed your loyalty to the people trying to protect you. Keeping you in the dark was no protection, it was no life to lead when the man at your back no longer looked upon you with that crinkle of warm hazel eyes that you loved.

“There’s a good girl. I knew you’d come around to my way of thinking with the right incentive,” he cooed whilst leaning over the curve of your spine and planting one wet kiss to the juncture between your neck and shoulder. With his lips so close to your ear, a rumble of laughter was followed by words you never dreamed of hearing from him. “Imagine how receptive you’ll be when I fit my cock in your pretty little cunt.” 

Happy with your position, and certain you weren’t going to go crashing to the floor, he let his hand loosen from your neck and traversed the path of your spine. His fingertips grazed over every bump and ridge beneath the thin material of your blouse until his palm found your backside. He pawed at you once, filling his broad hand with the meat of you and imagining himself doing this to you on both sides without the barrier of clothing in his way whilst his heavy cock sawed between the cleft of your cheeks. There would be time for that, all the time in the world if he had his way.

Your eyes had finally adjusted to the lack of light, the shapes of your apartment now visible and yet you chose to squeeze your eyes shut to it all. It heightened your remaining senses, the even breathing of your captor injected with muffled little noises of satisfaction when you complied without question. His hand rounded your hip, kneading you before searching for the button and zipper of your trousers. At that, your eyes flew open, and a startled squeak escaped your tight throat. It didn’t deter him—oh no—if anything he delighted in your reaction, slowing the descent of your zipper so that every scrape of metal against metal as the teeth released tore at your nerves until they were frayed.

“Lift,” he commanded, crouched low at your feet and tapping your ankle until you did as requested and your trousers were divested of you completely. The air-conditioning was conveniently not on, leaving your bare legs to feel prickly and clammy with the warm air permeating the room and worsened by the heat of Kento’s hands as they slid from heel to backside. 

He hummed when they reached the waistband of the black thong which did so very little to cover your modesty. You wriggled, experiencing the weight of his hungry stare and clenching your thighs together in the hopes of hiding the small yet very obvious damp spot on the cotton. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have said you were expecting my visit… you wouldn’t let anyone else see these, would you?”

Rough calluses scraped your soft derriere, toying with the fabric that disappeared between your cheeks and cupped your beautiful sex. You mewled out a ‘no’, readjusting your hold on the legs given how sweaty your palms had become and basked in the answering grunt of appreciation when your backside swayed in nothing but pure temptation. Kento wanted to rip apart the threads holding him back from you, to take out his cock that had been pulsing for release since before you even entered the apartment and force your walls to accommodate him. Fuck… he would envelop you in him—only him. 

Rub his scent right into your untainted soul until it was soiled just like he wanted. 

Paint your womb with his seed with the chance of it taking. His eyes rolled over at the thought alone.

Later.

He would see you ruined beneath him soon enough, he merely needed to get your punishment over. Kento needed to hear your apology—heartfelt and sobbed through a veil of tears. Without warning his palm reared back and with the sound of a whipcrack he brought it down against your right cheek. You struggled, bucked at the impact that forced your eyes to bulge and your throat to convulse. Only his palm at the middle of your back kept you in position.

The pain was not as immediate as you assumed it would be. It was more the startle of having it happen so unexpectedly that kicked you into action, on the heels was the warm tingle of your backside. Pulses of pain moved outwardly from the impact site like a stone causing ripples on a calm lake. “Ken—"

“Uh uh. This is not time for speaking,” he chided with a click of tongue against perfectly white teeth and a tone that silenced you instantly. “This is the least you could endure after you ripped my heart out of my chest and crushed it beneath your heel. Ten. That will suffice, and then we can converse like proper adults. Until then, the only words out of those pretty lips are going to be the number we are on.”

He didn’t even wait for your reply, knowing that you would take whatever he chose to gift you like a champ. You were strong, always had been, and this was nowhere near enough to break your spirit. Kento didn’t want that, he wanted the real you that he had fallen for all those years ago as an emotionally stunted young man. You would come to understand his point of view when presented enough evidence and he had stacks of that to show you. Not now. Later, he thought again. So much had to wait but patience was his forte. 

Standing to his impressive height, he skimmed his palm over your tender backside and let out a bark of laughter when you tensed, waiting for what was to come. He waited until you relaxed, listening to your breathing mellow before delivering a short, hard smack to your left side. “Good girl,” he murmured thickly when you hissed out a ‘two’ from between clenched teeth. 

Kento was painfully hard; the length of his cock pressed stubbornly down the leg of his trousers to lay trapped against his thigh. His every inhale was like a knife to his groin, every squeeze of the muscles in your backside was a torture that he was inflicting upon himself. He twitched, precum dribbling down his thigh and turning the golden hairs of his legs sticky and wet. He would see this through. It was for the greater good, of that, he was convinced.

The repetition was agony. A vicious cycle that felt like it would never end though you had a target so close yet so far. A wealth of salty tears sprung from your eyes, falling to the floor to gather as a pitiful little puddle given the gravity of your head and body. Blood rushed through your ears; the pounding of your pulse nearly loud enough to drown out the weight of the smacks levelled against your arse. The plump tissue ached endlessly, throbbing to its own beat and it left you trapped inside your head. 

This was Kento—your Kento—delivering a punishment he deemed necessary, and you poked at his earlier words. If you were honest with yourself, you had suspected that the attraction between you was a mutual one and that the feelings ran deeper than either of you was willing to admit. You pondered how you would have felt if he had been the one to turn from you, taking the morality of who was wrong and right out of the equation, you would have been devastated.

Noiselessly, you wept for the connection you had lost all those months ago. You should be repulsed by the blood that stained his hands, but you couldn’t find it in you when all you wished to do was pull those bloodied hands to your mouth and suck the fingers between your lips. How badly you wanted to hear him groan in pleasure, to cup your face and drag his thumb over the swell of your bottom lip until it bounced back into place. 

“Ten…” 

Kento’s harsh breathing became apparent, the sound building in your ears whilst you dared not move an inch. Sweat caked your skin—hot and uncomfortable—it slid over the natural dips and curves of your frame, and you knew your face was warm enough to cook eggs. Your fingers slid against the metal legs resulting in a loud squeak and you winced… waiting, suspended in a moment that couldn’t last forever, the spell would be broken but by whom?

The rustle of clothing popped the bubble you were both suspended in, the telltale jangle of a metal belt buckle and stammered curses brought your focus behind you, your head turning to find Kento with an expression you had never seen before and undressed from the waist down. He looked like he was ready to explode. A thick vein popped from his temple, throbbing against the etched scowl and snarled mouth. You moaned and his eyes snapped to you, lips curling back from teeth to show you the ferocity firing through his veins.

Without a word, Kento moved you, so you were bent over the kitchen island, and you sighed from the reprieve of the awkward position you had been forced to hold. The buttons of your blouse skittered across the kitchen tiles when two powerful hands fisted either side of them and ripped it open. His mouth and hands were everywhere and all at once.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he admitted. Wet kisses decorated the side of your neck, lips moulding over your pulse and humming happily at the frantic rhythm that mirrored his own. The brush of his bare thighs against yours elicited a guttural groan, taking the opportunity to reach back and scratch at the rough undercut at his nape, fingers delving into his hair and pressing him deeper into the crook of your neck whilst he marked you as his.

“…’m sorry, Kento. Please forgive me,” you sobbed brokenly, completely torn between burning joy and icy regret. An urgent hand pressed between your legs, thick fingers prodding and feeling the sopping fabric slick with arousal and sculpted to the molten heat of your swollen lips.

“Fuck. Save your apologies. I’ll hear them later, preferably whilst you’re gagging around my cock.”

Your backside rippled from the impact of his pelvis slamming into you, pulling a pained hiss from your lips. Kento chuckled darkly, the heat of your abused flesh warming that part of his soul that refused comfort until this very moment. He had no time to spare to remove your underwear, having used up all his patience in the measured delivery of his hand against your perfect behind. Ignoring the sharp prickling sensation radiating in his palm, he simply shoved them aside until he could push his heavy cock through. He wanted to ask if you were this wet because of the spanking or if you were merely pleased to see him, but the beastly part of his brain was firmly in the driver’s seat.

He was merciless; kicking your feet apart to widen your stance, tapping the fat head of his cock against your swollen clit and roaring in triumph when you pushed back against him. One second, he was teasing you, the next he was notched at your cunt and shunting himself forward. Kento gripped your hip, pulling you back whilst he worked inside, and the stretch was exactly what you expected. Every inch tickled your insides, thick veins stark and massaged by gummy walls made to take him.

“That’s it… there we go. God, look at you. Your pretty pussy is sucking me in… mm, more? All yours, sweetheart.” He crooned his lust-roughened rhetoric, and all you could do was hold onto the counter so your knees wouldn’t give out entirely. They shook with the force of his thrusts whilst he held you so tightly as if he worried you would slip through his fingers again. Not a fucking chance. You were his, and he wanted you to know that.

“Mine,” he growled, spittle flecking your shoulder as he bent over your body and bit into your tender skin. You howled, a mixture of pleasure and pain lighting up your insides. Stars winked in and out of your vision and you danced on your tippy toes as an orgasm near forced him out of you. If not for his determination to remain in the heart of your body, abusing the soft tissue near your belly, you would have expelled him with the force of your release.

Kento crowed like a maniacal king. Fucking you right through your high without a care for the overstimulation that left you whimpering and drooling onto the granite countertop. Your cheek pressed against the cool surface, eyes flickering between open and shut as you fought the desire to pass out. The pressure of your pulsing walls, the suction of your cunt drawing him back inside each time he pulled back was his undoing, and although he had planned to cum down your throat so he could see your tear-stained face, he couldn’t pull out. His balls drew close to his body, the familiar drip of impending release stirring at the small of his back but so much more intense than ever before. His head was thrown back at the first spurt of seed exploding outward to knock up against your fertile womb with only thoughts of what it might be like to have your soft stomach grow with his child on his mind.

Never had he produced so much, and he wondered if he had been saving it up for you. A ridiculous thought had he been in his right mind, but you both knew that wasn’t the case. His hands gentled, bruises forming the pattern of his fingertips marked your hips and waist. He smiled, the first true smile in what felt like forever. Soon he was laughing, and the jostle made you moan out, his softening cock twitching in your cunt and tickling you.

“I think I am more than ready to hear your apology, little dove.”

And you were more than ready to give it to him, after all… Kento possessed your heart.

[cherryredstars]

omg hi cherry!!! yay yay yay I'm so excited requests are open! I love your writings ❤❤❤

Mkay so I was wondering if you would be into writing something more fluffy (I mean you can put smut if you want, lord knows I'm not gonna complain 🤭). I was thinking maybe reader is a teacher, and Gabriella is in her class at school, so she meets Miguel that way. And like over time he just keeps making excuses to see her, even though Gabriella's grades are actually totally fine— he's just so down bad lmao

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reder

Warnings: Fluff, Last Line is Suggestive

A/N: Hi, lovie! Thank you!!!

Unedited

You're fucking stunning.

Standing there in a pretty little dress, skin glowy from summer vacation. Got one hell of a smile on you, too. It has Miguel antsy as he waits in line to drop Gabi off for her first day, his hands tightening around his daughter's book bag as his eyes study every little move you make. Eyes zeroing in on how the wind plasters the back of your dress to your legs, your hands catching the front of it to prevent the fabric from flying too high up. He's nothing but a lovesick puppy by the time he reaches you, nodding dumbly to your introduction as he marvels over the softness of your hand in his, and eyes dropping to the glossy tint of your lips. He has to stop myself from making a noise when you bend down to talk to Gabi, complementing her outfit and gushing about how excited you are to be her teacher this year. The sight is so fucking domestic and he has to stop the fantasies popping up in his head. He takes it as a god-given sign that you're meant to be his when you start to get up, only to grab onto Miguel's shoulder as two little kids come running and bumping into you from behind. He'd be one hell of a lousy man if he didn't jump at the opportunity to grab at your waist and pull you closer to him to 'help steady you'.

Any day that Gabi comes homes with a little paper asking for parent help at a school event for her class is one hell of a lucky day for Miguel. Instantly jumping at the opportunity, signing up the seconds he reads it. Can't miss out on a single opportunity to see how you treat Gabi like she's your own kid or be close to you. Fucking loves how flustered you are every time he takes something off your hands, encouraging you to leave all the heavy duty labor to him so you can focus on the kids. He's always offering to do something for you. Something in the classroom is broken and the school's maintenance is taking too long to fix it? Oh cariño, why didn't you say something sooner to him or Gabi? He'll come in during your lunch break to fix it up while the kids are at recess. Sweet little thing needs help putting up decorations around the classroom? Oh baby, what do you think big, large men are meant for? He'll stay after school Friday and put everything up, just sit and be pretty as you help Gabi with her math homework. Sad that you need to buy new supplies for the classroom but they don't fit into your budget and you feel bad having to ask the parents to donate supplies again? Oh doll, send him a list of anything and everything you want and it's yours, pretty ladies like you don't deserve to worry about things like that. He'll even give you his number so he can buy you lunch.

And when you blink up at him with your sparkly doe eyes and ask, "What can I do to repay you, Mr. O'Hara?"

Fuck.

If you aren't careful, he might just have to buy you a pretty little ring. And, by next school year, you'll be introducing yourself as Mrs. O'Hara.

Maybe he'll even give you a kid of your own while he's at it; Gabi's been bothering him about a baby brother, anyways.

[bananababblegigglemuffin]

May I get uhhhhhhhhhh Logan Howlett with a breeding kink?

OMG I LOVE this idea Logan already does seem like he'd be a good daddy if ykwim also idk which logan you'd like but i have read many fics on lumber logan so I'm going to write one on xmen1!logan

Summary: So you act a bit weird in the recess room at the school and Logan senses something is off

KINKTOBER: DAY 1- BREEDING X Logan

Today, it was a usual day you had just come back from teaching the children a lesson of  Biology on x-linked inheritance and you'd gone to take a short break in the recess room for the staff.

Logan had gotten back from a simulator fight with the pyrokinetic children", mind you he was all sweaty and took off his shirt with a big rip on the front; "Did you learn your lesson kids?" he said lighting a cigar with the fire on one of the kids' heads, "Yes Mr. Howlett" they said as though a symphony, Logan did something, now this is very out-of-the-blue and important to the story.... He put out the fire in the kid's head and scuffed his hair, laughing, "Alright bub, off you pop" with the cutest huge smile.

You felt your ovaries do a 360 as he sat down on the leather chair biting one of the apples on the desk... "What's wrong babe?" he asked nonchalant. "Nothing hon, just a bit tired...""Want a massage" he asked. "Of course" you said, when he commenced you made the most melodic fucking delicious monas ever, logan didn't know if this was bait of some kind but the bulge in his pants got bigger and bigger

"Wrong? Oh no, nothing, do me a favor wolfie meet me in our room" you shamelessly sang. "You got somethin' special for me, huh?" Logan countered "Always."

He entered the room and searched for you, you sat in the corner donning a lace lingerie set in the color of the ocean. He made a merciful grunt and his eyes looked like he'd found the answers to life. "Awwh love you're the most exquisite goddess ever to exist" he said, falling to his knees in front of you and began kissing your inner thigh, reaching your thong and rubbing the pad of his thumb at the centre. You let out a small whine "You like that baby?" "Yes Lo, more please". He did not need any further instruction and lifted you up bridal style as if you weighed nothing of course he was made of METAL, then he undid his pants and gently took off any piece of clothing on you. He shifted your beautiful thighs on his shoulders and kissed your ankles leading up to your wet cunt.

"I'm so sorry, sunshine, but i've got to put my seed in you today, fuck, you look sensational, literal mead that I'm about to get drunk on." He said. "Yes Lo, please I'm so hungry" you said. Without wasting time he gently positioned his tip and slowly thrust into you filling you with his thick veiny cock. you squealed "Ahhh, fuck honey you're so warm for me, I want you to relax and enjoy, I'm going to take care of you" he began thrusting into you, he could not physically wait. "AAUUUUH god BABY I'm going to fill you up till the brim love" He kissed you, continued thrusting into your cunt now the room was filled with your blissful moans, the squelching of your cunt, the slapping of his huge balls on your clit and he looked into your eyes, your beautiful enchanting eyes which got him into this situation in the first place.

"You like that my love?" he asked you, "MOre tHan AnythiNg, LO" You cupped his face kissing his lips and entwining your tongues in a symphony. "Please FILL ME NOW" you begged him, it didn't take anymore for him, He moaned and his fucking hard cock let out all the warm fluid, painting your walls. "I love you honey, and i especially love filling that pretty hole of yours which was made for me" Logan grunted. You were about to get off "Not so soon babe, i gotta make sure all of it stays inside, but we gotta get you some real food since you're hungry," so he picked you up still with his cock inside and picked up the apple he had, bit off a piece and gave you the piece. "We'll get you some real food, after I'm done with you" he said. "You're not done?!" and so he giggled kissing your forehead and lusciously carved lips, his cock still twiching and hardening once more inside you. "I love you baby, I'll always be yours" he said, a bit more serious..."I love you more than anything or anyone i know of, Lo, and it'll always stay that way."

End

Author's note: Ok guys it's 4am and one of my first fics in a long time., hope you find it a bit nice at least :) IK there are some typos but i'm just a lil too flustered to read it again.

[bigbangclappin]

Baby Daddy Gangster 3

Summary: Ding Dong! Your baby daddy is back and wants in your life and your daughter’s. And with that smile you might as well shove the door wide open.

Paring: Nakamoto YutaXReader(1st Person POV!)

Warnings: Cursing! Baby Daddy themes, mentions of smut, toxic relationships, Mafia/Yakuza themes (It’s not glamorous in real life folks!) 

Word Count: 4.9K

A/N: it's finally here!! Part 3. I hope you all enjoy it! I may do a part 4 based on the response here to part 3!

Tag List: @nonbinarykais-world @angelictypo @stolasisyourparent @ch3rrych3s @marvelahsobx @crazyllamasurfer @sunooluver @ayowhatthefuck563  @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @miinghaosstuff @veryhao @johnbanana

Part 2

“Ms (L/N)?” A sweet but masculine voice called.

Mark was jogging toward me and I felt myself pale in worry, please God tell me my Yuki was alright and that she wasn’t hurt. 

“Yes?” I replied when he reached me on the sidewalk, “What is it? Is Yuki alright?”

“Geez,” He ran a hand through his hair seemingly embarrassed,  “yeah I should have led with that Yuki is just fine! I’m sorry I just had something to ask you if you had a moment?”

I couldn’t help but feel relieved at the thought that my daughter was okay. Lately I was a hop, skip and a jump away from the edge due to her father’s sudden need to be a thorn in my side. I feared he’d try to power play me and kidnap Yuki or something only Yuta would do. 

While it may sound irrational to the regular people passing me by on the street, the fellow mothers, wives, and girlfriends of the underworld know just how true that fear really was. 

Look the wrong way, say the wrong thing, your child could disappear in front of your very eyes. 

In the back of my mind I knew that Yuta wasn’t the same man his father was; thank god. It meant my child wouldn’t be a sadistic means to an end. Thank goodness he took after his Grandfather. 

While his Grandfather ruled with an iron fist where necessary, he knew how to be a real family man to his loved ones. He showered affection and wisdom over Yuta and luckily it took precedence over his father’s harsher borderline neglectful upbringing. 

In the darkest recesses of my mind I knew Yuta wouldn’t use Yuki as a tool to get back at me. It wasn’t who he was; his father though his father was still on the throne then we were in big trouble.

“Ms. (Y/n)?” Mark waved a hand in front of my face with a chuckle, “Are you alright?”

“Hm? Oh yeah I’m fine just a lot of papers to grade and please call me (Y/n)” I waved him off, “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

The man’s brows furrowed and he chewed his bottom lip before speaking trepidatiously, “There was a man here last week during outside play that approached Yuki…don’t be alarmed she was okay. I got there as soon as I saw what was going on. I asked who he was and what he wanted with Yuki and he was super hostile. Like a territorial tiger or something, I thought he was going to knock me out just for picking Yuki up. He did show me a birth certificate claiming he’s Yuki’s father…” He ran his hand through his hair pausing for a breath, “Ms–I mean (Y/n) I know you said Yuki doesn’t have another parent and we will honor that but that man was Nakamoto Yuta, the Nakamoto Yuta the heir– no scratch that the leader of the largest Yakuza family in–”

I snapped before I had the chance to catch myself, “I know who he is!”

I mumbled a sorry as I ran my hands over my face in order to get it together, “That bastard haunts my every waking moment on this godforsaken earth, is what I meant to say. I guess for safety’s sake I should let you know that he is Yuki’s long-lost bio dad who has for some reason or another decided to pop up and become a pain in my ass. Yuki is not to be released to him without my consent. I have sole custody of her and he is not to be anywhere near her during school. He distracts her and is also a child himself.  I understand Yuta and his men can be intimidating, please tell me right away if he causes you any trouble I will take care of it. I know he will give you a hard time, just let him know I told you to tell him ‘Ear’ that’s all you need to say. It’s like tiger repellent.”

“Just the word ear?” Mark asked confused, “You don’t think he’ll threaten the other kids do you?”

“Yep if he has any sense to him he’ll remember what that means and not to push me or others in order to push me,” I shook my head for the other question, “Yuta wouldn’t hurt the other kids. He has some decency to him. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner it slipped my mind with everything going on, if it’s really too much trouble please let me know.”

“It’s no trouble at all I just wanted to be on the same page in case we needed a safety plan for Yuki and yourself.” 

I put a hand on Mark’s shoulder with a laugh, “A safety plan won’t keep Yuta away trust me if that were the case I would have deployed one by now. Just call me if he tries anything stupid.” 

“Will do (Y/n).”

As I walked to work that morning I had an inkling that the bastard was going to be poking his head around soon enough. He had been way too quiet the past week. He couldn’t go without trouble for more than twenty-four hours let alone seven days.

***

“So who can tell me the difference between a metaphor and a simile?” 

I smiled at all of the eager faces with their hands raised ready to answer my question, “Go ahead Binna–”

A knock interrupted my student and I noticed the school secretary disheveled looking as if she were clutching her pearls. “Ms (L/N)? Can you come with me for a moment? It's important.”

I eyed the lady up trying to figure out what it was that made her jog up to the second floor as if her ass was on fire when she couldn’t even be bothered to roll to the otherside of reception half the time. 

“Hana please read the first paragraph and then pick someone to read after you're done and be fair please. No auctioning off snacks for reading rights.” 

I was hardly able to ask what was going on when the secretary offered to watch my kids for me while I handled my ‘husband.’ 

“Handle who’s husband?” I asked confused, “Aren’t you in charge of building security?”

“Your husband is demanding to see you!” She shooed me away down the hallway.

First off how dare she make rude ass gestures like that toward me but second, I was never married and never will be. “I’m not married, you probably mixed me up with on of the other teachers I have to get back to class–”

The secretary grabbed my arm and whispered, “The Nakamoto Yuta is downstairs in the headmaster’s office waiting for you. The headmaster vacated his office for you to have a place to talk. I am not mistaken.”

I just gave a ‘tch’ and made my way toward the administrative office. This man didn’t know the meaning of conspicuous if it punched him in the face. Like I wanted to right now. Boundaries were a big thing when we were together because if I didn’t have any Yuta would’ve steam rolled me into a rice cake. Apparently in our time apart he forgot that work was a no interruption zone. He was part gangster and part Chihuahua. Cute ,loyal, with an adorable face on one hand and on the other a yappy, loud bark with territorial issues over their favorite person.  

As soon as I landed on the bottom floor I saw two of Yuta’s normal security posted outside of the office. When they saw me they bowed and I rolled my eyes at the memories of being called sister-in-law. I’m clearly regarded in the same manner as they held back a male coworker of mine just trying to walk out of the door before me. 

Although he was rude it was still embarrassing to have two large men make a scene over something so small. 

“Johnny,” I sighed at my husband’s right hand who sat just outside of the headmaster’s office in the ‘naughty’ chair, “Long time no see.” 

The man stood up with open arms and a cheeky grin and I couldn’t help myself, “Fine.”

He locked me in a giant bear hug and then tugged on my ponytail, “How’ve you been?”

“Not bad all things considered,” I pat him on the back with a grin, “How are things for you?”

“Things have been interesting.” He laughed and nodded over toward the closed office, “Go on lover boy is all twisted up in there.”

I rolled my eyes, “Maybe if I smack him it’ll right him out.”

“Good luck with that!” Johnny called leaving the small reception area entirely to stand outside with the other men, closing that door behind him too.

Here we go. Again.

I pushed the door open, “Nakamoto Yuta I am working this better be important.”

“Trust me it’s important baby,” He mumbled from his position on top of the desk. Dark hair, shaggy and unkempt, he had run his fingers through it and put some behind his ears. His all black suit covered all of his telling tattoos aside from the large neck piece peeking over his dress shirt collar. 

Worst one of them all might as well have been winking at me. I wish he’d get it covered up or lasered. I didn’t want to constantly see my initials on his left ring finger like we were still together, common-law or not. 

“It should be detrimental if you kicked my boss out of his office just because you felt like it.”

“You look beautiful,” Yuta gave me a smile and went for my hand. I dodged him just in time, “Still smell like peaches and cream too.”

I quirked an eyebrow, “What are you up to?”

“I can’t compliment my woman?” he asked with a little smirk that made my heart race.

“Does she know you are giving other women compliments?” I quipped, taking a whole step back, it felt like he was stalking me around the room like a jungle cat who hadn’t eaten in god knows how long. I’ve been his mouse before I know all of the signs it’s not happening again.

“As if there would ever be anyone else,” he rolled his eyes at me and nearly succeeded in backing me into the corner, if it weren’t for my swift footing. 

“Why are you here right now Yuta? Please, I have to get back to my class.”

“I went to visit Yuki at school today because I presumed you let Mark know that Yuki is in fact my daughter too. As in yours and mine. Did you know he had the balls to tell me that I couldn’t see my daughter?  He told me that he was instructed to tell me that I wasn’t allowed to see her, and that she wasn’t to leave the grounds without your permission–”

“Because she is learning–”

“Because you don’t want me to see her without you,” he snapped back. He ruffled his luscious hair before taking his seat back on the desk, arms crossed like a petulant child. “He said ear.”

I couldn’t hold back my laugh and it all made sense now as to why this couldn’t wait, “You pulled me away from class because you were embarrassed?” 

“I was not embarrassed! I was appalled that you told him about it! A complete stranger!”

I covered my mouth to muffle my laughter, “Yuta I knew you would try to go behind my back because you can’t help yourself. If you had just stuck to the schedule I made for Yuki’s visits with you…”

“I would babe but sometimes our schedules don’t line up. Which is why I try to see her when I can.”

“Try another time when she isn’t at school.Without being sneaky about it too.”

“Who’s being sneaky?” he asked me with a roll of his eyes, “You knew I was trying to take her for lunch. I don’t have a regular nine to five job (Y/n) you know I don’t do the same shit everyday at the same time.”

“So your solution is to be selfish and disrupt her routine?” I asked annoyed, “Pull her out of class because Daddy has to go back to Osaka to oversee the factory? How is that fair to her?”

“Life isn’t always fair baby you and I both know that–”

“Yeah but that isn't an illusion I’m willing to destroy when she’s three Yuta! I mean come on–”

“So what?” He asked his arm flailing out in question his face heating with anger, “Fuck me then? I don’t get to see my little girl for two weeks because you want to keep her in a class where all she does is play with blocks?”

“You’re really starting to piss me off,” I managed to get out through gritted teeth, “These are the consequences of your own actions. I’m not going around in circles with you over your reasons again. Fact of the matter is I built this routine for her without you. Her world can’t suddenly revolve around your busy schedule, that’s what being a parent is all about. Yuki comes first, everything else is second. We sacrifice niceties and our time for her. I gave you options to work with if you want to see her. You can’t impose your will on our daughter.”

I could see his tongue poke the inside of his cheek out of anger and frustration, “It sounds like I can’t impose my will on you–”

“You’ve never been able to, a tradition I’m handing down to Yuki.”

“(Y/n) stop,” Yuta snapped slamming his open palms against the desk, “I’ve done everything right by you and by Yuki! I’m tired of this back and forth. She's my daughter too and if I want to take her out to lunch then I will!”

“No one said you couldn’t take her to lunch!” I snapped in return my blood boiling, “Just that you are going to respect her schedule. She’s the kid, it's not on her to follow your schedule! Kid’s her age need a routine that’s all it comes down to! I didn’t choose your line of work for you, and neither did she!”

“You can’t tell me that when you found out you were pregnant you didn’t factor in how I lived, how I had to make time for you, which I did, how sometimes our time was cut short, and in some way that would boil over in to how it would be when Yuki was born! You’ve always known how it is we’ve been together for ten years!”

I put a hand to my face in exasperation “Alright let me uno reverse you; You can’t tell me that when you left Yuki and I at the hospital that you expected me to know you were going to come back at some point in time and just become wonder dad. I didn’t even know you left one of the nurses told me you bolted!”

“Jesus, I expected you to use your context clues. I went to every appointment with you, every ultrasound.I helped pick out her name! How does that sound like I didn’t want to be in her life?”

“What?” I spat ready to yank at my hair, “Maybe because you said I’m not ready to be a father I’ll pay for you to have it taken care of?”

“Fuck!” He kicked the desk corner so hard it jumped back from the force. “I was scared of losing you! My enemies were closing in on the family and you were the prime target! They needed to believe that you meant nothing to me! Especially since you were pregnant! It’s the biggest target in my world! Kidnap and kill the leader’s woman. I couldn’t risk that happening to you or to our child! I panicked and I made a mistake! I want Yuki; I want you! I did what I thought I had to at the time to protect you both from harm. There isn't a day that goes by where I don’t think of our Yuki and you. She’s the apple of my eye but you’re my entire world (Y/n)--”

“Yuta–”

“No I already know what you’re going to say and I’ve held my tongue long enough,” he snapped rising up from the desk, “I love you! I always have and I always will–” 

“You, you, you! It’s always about you!” I screamed angrily, “Maybe if you had taken a goddamn moment to talk to me about whatever danger was encroaching, things could’ve been different! We may not even be here in this position if you thought about me and Yuki. Instead you kept us out; You’re angry at me for something you broke Yuta. How can I trust you to tell me the truth when it counts? I love you too, clearly I had your fucking kid but none of that matters if I can’t trust you to tell me anything. You lied to keep us safe sure, but you damaged the already fragile relationship we have instead of just talking to me.”

Yuta ran a large hand through his hair again but he wasn’t quick enough to hide his smirk, “You still love me? 

I stayed silent for a moment, chewing on my cheek, “Possibly.”

He chuckled deep, “Nuh uh baby, that’s not how that works.”

I cursed myself for my slip up as I glared at the man who will always be first and foremost a pain in my ass. “Ear Yuta.”

Red flushed his cheeks in embarrassment almost instantly, “Just because emotions haven’t always been your thing baby doesn’t mean you can try and deflect by kink shaming me.”

“I’m not embarrassed that you need your ears stimulated to cum.”

“What did she just say?” I heard Johnny ask from outside the office. The door popped open quickly, “Wait boss is that true?”

“Out Johnny,” Yuta pointed back at the exit at the same time I answered ‘Yes’.

“What the fuck (Y/N)?” he snapped at me, “If you value your life you will never repeat this to anyone…”

Johnny lifted both hands up in a defensive gesture, “Not my story to tell man.”

“Great, now get out and tell everyone they will lose their tongues if they talk!...and walk at least a few rooms down,” He ordered clearly out of sorts. 

Someone was most definitely embarrassed by his own needs. I tried to swallow my chuckle but I let it out anyway finding it too hard to contain. If looks could kill, yikes, this man’s icy stare would’ve caused me to drop dead right then and there. Maybe I went too far this time. 

Putting him in a position of shame in front of his men wasn’t the best idea. Other women in my shoes have been dealt with for less. Not that it justified his behavior. I just knew how things worked amongst the men in this organization and while Yuta had really pushed the envelope as far as progress for women goes, there were some things even he couldn’t let go.

Not with his men overhearing. He had to uphold his honor and reputation now. Unless he wanted to lose face in front of his subordinates, and in this world any sign of weakness will get you dethroned faster than a snap of your fingers.

The tapping of my ex’s fingers against the hard oak of the desk snapped me out of my thoughts and back to the present danger I was in. 

I thought for a moment that he may actually hurt me and that I royally fucked up. 

“You know how easy it is in my position to make things happen (Y/n) I could have marched right into that little nursery school and taken our daughter if I wanted to. I still could, nothing nor anyone could stop me, including you. We both know that, but you know why I haven’t done that?”

I could fathom a few guesses but with him leveraging his power over me, I thought it best to stay quiet and only shake my head in response. I didn’t want him to make good on his threat. He wasn’t wrong that he and Yuki could up and leave without a trace and no hope of me finding her. 

My pride hurt that I wasn’t able to bite back at his arrogance; I startled when he placed his large palm against my cheek. I attempted to squirm out from underneath him but the gentleness behind the touch turned to harsh control as he gripped my chin in his hand so I had no other choice but to look at him.

“I respect you.” He stated solemnly his hold tightened more, “I respect that you’re the mother of my child, unlike you who treats me as if I’m a fucking joke…”

I tapped him on the back of hand, “You’re hurting me Yuta.”

He let out a tch and backed off slightly, “I didn’t expect the warmest of welcomes baby, but I didn’t anticipate the depth of your animosity toward me, rather to the picture of me I had to paint.”

I searched through his dark eyes not exactly sure as to what I was actually looking for, what I did find was sincerity. “Your lie was convincing. The first few months after you left were terrible. I was running on Redbull and a prayer. Yuki wasn’t really fussy so there wasn’t much to distract me from thinking of you. It doesn’t help that she has your eyes and smile. Every Time she let out a little giggle I thought of you and my heart broke all over again. I learned to cope with the idea of being a single mom and doing it all on my own, it took me a while but I finally got there. Then you show up on my doorstep like you didn’t stomp all over my heart and everything was fine…so yeah it’s a little hard to believe otherwise.”

“Let me have the chance to show you how sorry I am for having to walk away from you when you needed me most.” 

He took my hand in his, he intertwined our fingers together and kissed my knuckles gently. His big eyes bore into mine and I had to admit he still knew how to get me to bend. I could never resist when he was being charming and sweet.

“It’s going to take a lot more than a handsome smile, Yuta.” I chided him but found myself unable to pull my hand away from his. 

It’s not that I didn’t want to give him a chance, I really wanted to throw caution to the wind and let the chips fall and land wherever they may but I had Yuki to be concerned for. He needed to prove he wanted to be in her life as her other parent. Which meant less focus on himself and more on our daughter’s needs.

“I don’t expect you to marry me tomorrow,” he said with such nonchalance, “Maybe in a year.”

I scoffed in disbelief, “Maybe never if you don’t start asking for my consent. I can’t believe you, I give you an inch and you took the whole god damn yard stick!”

“Baby you know I’m the only one for you…” he moved in like he was going to kiss me.

“How would I know that?” I pressed my palm to his invading lips, “I’ve only ever been with you.and like one and a half other men.”

 This man easily gives me whiplash one moment he’s being cute laying the overconfidence down thick, and the next his eyes are nearly black and I swear at the mention of other men he was hulking out due to his horrible possessive streak.

“What the hell does that even mean?” He growled, “Who are they?”

“I’m not stupid baby. I remember what happened when a poor unsuspecting sophomore tried to flirt with me,” I cringed at the awful bloody memory, “You nearly killed him.”

Yuta rolled his eyes, “Anyone who didn’t know you were my girl were either blind, gay, or didn’t care that we were together. That bastard was the latter. He got what he had coming to him just like you did when I fucked you in the guys showers afterward.”

I gasped in shock, “I’m at work Christ Yuta what if my boss heard you?”

He shrugged his shoulders with that irritating smirk of his, “Oops slip of the tongue.”

I ran a hand through my hair and put some much needed distance between him and I. “I’ve got to get back to class.”

Just as I pushed the handle down he grabbed my hand, “Oh no you don’t you have two very important names to disclose before I go on a fucking witch hunt. Was it that smug fucker Mark?”

“Nakamoto Yuta,” I sighed angrily while trying to twist my wrist from his grip, “How many times do I have to tell you that there is nothing going on between me and Mark?”

“As many times as it takes unless you willingly give up those two names…”

I swear to God if I could’ve slapped him I would have, I was past my breaking point. My blood was boiling hot, something only he managed to achieve. I’m entirely sure I’ve disclosed those two individuals to him before in the first place. I don’t know why he was being so dramatic.

“You weren’t the one who popped my cherry Yuta, you know that so there’s one…”

He nodded his head but then glared at me expectantly, “And the last one?”

“Seriously he was barely anything but second base–”

I heard his sharp intake of breath, “One base too many for my liking (Y/n), name now.”

“I don’t even remember his name. I was drunk at a party right after we broke up for the first time, I couldn’t even tell you what he looked like to be honest with you.”

“That’s classy babe, just hook up with anyone,” he snarled and aggressively ran his hands through his hair. 

“We weren’t together!” I scoffed, “It’s not like I slept with him, not to mention that this happened years ago! I haven’t been with anyone but you ever since. Including up to now. Your jealousy will be your downfall Yuta. ”

“Loving you is my downfall?” he asked with a sardonic brow raised.

I did not have the strength nor the patience left to have this fight with him again. I’ve tried one too many times to talk to him about this. I wasn’t going to beat my head against the wall again when I had a class of preteens waiting for me. 

“Are we done here?” I asked him, crossing my arms over my chest, “I really need to get back to my class.”

Yuta did that thing with his tongue and nodded his head, “We’re done for now. I’m taking our daughter for lunch and when I come back from Osaka you and I are going to dinner to finish this conversation.”

“Whatever,” I called over my shoulder. 

As I passed Johnny in the hallway I gave him another hug and apologized for putting him in the middle of another one of our notorious arguments. Poor guy probably felt like our third since he knew everything that happened in our relationship. He assured me that it was okay but I still felt awful.

As I walked back to my classroom I had this nagging feeling that Yuta may be a lot harder to put off then I initially thought. I was going to have to try harder and smarter if I wanted to get around Yuta’s constant watch.

I couldn’t have that threat of Yuki being taken from me hanging over my head. I had a lot of planning to do. With Yuta away for some time, I had the perfect opportunity to strike.

[hoppingonjim]

freezing- Sierra Six

FOR THE LOML, MEGGY! who wanted a smut w degrading && ice play.

warnings: degrading, afab!reader, muscles, the word cunt (idk some people hate it), ice play, creampie, gagging, dumbification, dom!sierra, sub!reader, big dick.

note: i have never seen the movie and i dont know how to write ice all that great, so please forgive me if this sucks! i really did try. ily meg

“you're so fucking helpless without me, aren't you?”

in the dance of shadows, a sly grin adorns his face, mischief twinkling in those gleaming eyes that peer down upon you. his arms fashioned into a prison that jails you. a captive willingly ensnared, you relish in the immobility.

your knee wanders toward his crotch, gliding over the surface. a delicate exploration unfolds. it caresses, inquisitive and bold, gauging the hardness that pulsates beneath the fabric—a silent communion of anticipation.

a longing emerges within you, a fervent desire for him to embrace your yearning, to be swept away in the symphony of passion that beckons from the hidden recesses of desire.

a small smirk runs over your lips, “no. no i can get myself off just fine without you-”

those words don't delight his ears. already he can feel himself strain against the imprisoning boxers, “the fuck did you just say to me?” a small pause sufficed, “stay right there, fucking whore.”

without another word he leaves your limbs and core. abandoning you in all your thoughts. a solitary world as you slink your hand down to your clit. a finger sliding past your folds, getting a feel for the affects six casted upon you. a small click of a tongue is heard suddenly, glancing over you can see six holding a tray of, ice cubes?

sitting up only slightly, your head tilts, wondering, “what're all those for? we don't have any drinks-”

swiftly he's beside you. again. a hand moves to cup your cheek, the grip brought down by his finger tips mocking with every brush as soon the grip grows coarse, “you're so stupid baby. is anything even going on in that head of yours?” his question is accentuated by the way he takes his large hands, two knuckles and taps them against your temple, “fuckin' empty. lay back down.”

you aren't one to usually disobey, your head coddled by the pillow that lays below. hands leave your cheeks to command your legs in a forward position, and soon his fingers find coolness from the slippery ice.

"i don't want to hear none of your annoying whines, you're gonna keep that pretty mouth fucking shut, understand?" a stern gaze haunts your irises.

you only give him a nod. you know this game.

but what you didn't know is the way he'd pop an ice cube into his mouth. within seconds your legs were greeted with the trail of chilling wetness as he held the ice cube with his teeth, grazing it over your quivering skin. it was difficult to not blurt out a small whine your moan, you swore you could almost draw blood with how harsh you bit down on your bottom lip. teeth submerged.

your hips can only buck upward when the ice finally reaches your folds. soaking up your arousal and engulfing it in freezes. the touch leaves only the chilling sensation behind. once it begins to melt you feel it slide down your folds, back arching as a reactant to the very new sensations.

the ice cube fades fast with his breath, and soon his snow flake kissed tongue in inside of you. wiggling against your walls and beckoning to force a moan out of you. make you fall into his trap.

you felt stimulated in ways you never imagined before. and you couldn't hold it in anymore, a small moan slipped out from your lips.

like a large force of man he propped himself away from your sobbing slit, tongue blessed in your heat, "the fuck did i tell you earlier? you're such a dumb slut. fucking horny dumb slut."

the boxers end up bunched around his ankles before he discards them to the floor, adjacent to your swamp of clothing lurking on the wood. engorged and red, his tip is leaking with pre cum, veins strained as he can only imagine abusing your cunt.

boy, does he waste no time. you aren't given any warnings, your mouth wobbling out little apologies but his ears block them. for that brief moment he's focused on the tightness gripping his cock and grasping him.

"you're a filthy little slut huh? just a pretty face with a tight hole?" while his thrusts quickly grow savage his large hands reach over to the tray, picking up another cube. your nipples are already hard, goosebumps lining your areolas in anticipation before they were even met with the sparkling cold. your back arches instantly, again, not accustomed to the temperature drop. his cock pounding into your weeping slit only leaves your body sweltering.

you aren't able to hold back the squirms, "w-what the fuck, oh my god.. oh my god.."

for the moment he isn't able to respond to you, the overall sensations of you hugging him with your walls is heaven for him. a serendipitous escape from the life he's known. the one he leads. and yet you, in all your glory, let him take his pent up frustrations out on your pure body.

the tip of the ice cube began to drip down your body. lines of water waltzing down your sides, soaking up under your back in their path. your nipples fight the freeze before surrendering, and soon just as you moan, an ice cube falls into your mouth, "don't wanna hear you fucking whine baby." all that's able to escape your lips is a muffled bacchanal of whimpers, "aw princess, cat got your tongue?"

his biceps squeeze as he claws on the sheets below, strands of hair kissing sweat which falls beside you. the scars on his shoulders burst as he only grows desperate and animalistic. thighs and hamstring flexed in all their superiority with how needy his ramming becomes. more so, just to feel you cum harder on his cock, he- for the last time- plucks an ice cube. the cube is pressed hard against your whining clit, and although you try to argue, your mouth is hushed by its own cool cell.

"fucking fuck.. feel so good for me, tight fucking pussy huh? oh yeah, cum on this cock. 's all your good for, fuckin cum on it."

you're not one to disobey orders. tilting your head back, you find your release as you cum hard and heavy on his cock, your clit surrounded by a moat of chilling water. melted by the heat he's radiating onto your body. it doesn't even take a second before he's filling you up, his fat cock drenching you in a large load of his cum. he's proud of it too, claiming you as his. something he does over and over. indulging in pure sin with you. marking you- there's nothing better.

the ice cube in your mouth withers down, your lips coated in thawed ice, "f-fuck.. you-"

again, he's cupping your cheek. a shaking thumb gliding over your bottom lip slowly in order to plump it out. pressing hard, pulling almost as he pants, "you're such a good whore for me, you know that? say it. fucking say it."

"i'm your good whore, sir."

pleasure for him doesn't solely exist in the neediness that lines you, but in the dirty words that he's able to reel from your throat. only, he isn't satisfied.

"fucking prove it then, get those moving lips on this fucking cock."

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

I'm obsessed with your boog. Can I request more apple seed fluff and something funny??

Hi, Anon!

I'm sorry this has taken so long to get to. So many people have asked for Apple Seed blurbs, that I needed to take a break so I could focus on the "canon" story hahaha! I can definitely write you up a little funny Apple Seed piece.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Apple Seed (Bonus): Bun in the Inferno

Angel: (enters the kitchen in the middle of the night and pauses)

Vaggie: (tearing through the cabinets, scouring recipes, flipping and stirring various pots and pans) Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Angel: ........Hey, uh, whatcha doing, Vags?

Vaggie: Charlie. Midnight craving. (puts on a pair of goggles, opens a bottle of Infernal Ghost Pepper oil and blasts the skillet with a healthy dosage before dropping in black peppercorns, making them pop like popcorn kernels)

Angel: (coughs profusely as tears stream down his face) FUCKING HELL, VAGGIE!!!! WHAT IS SHE CRAVING?!?!?! I'M PRETTY SURE THAT RECIPE GOES AGAINST THE GENEVA CONVENTION!!! (closes his eyes and covers his nose and mouth with his robe)

Vaggie: (wipes the lenses of her goggles before she checks her list of Charlie's recent cravings) Brimstone Flavored Pickles, Spicy Jalapeño Ice Cream, Pepper Popcorn, Lava Cake with lava from Wrath, Scorched S'mores, and Blazing Burgers.

Angel: (stomach rolls as he gets secondhand heartburn) That crazy bitch tryin' ta get that baby killed or somethin???

Vaggie: No. She's just pregnant. (uses a pair of blacksmith tongs to plate up all the food on heavy duty, industrial grade, angelic steel tray) Very pregnant, and very much a demon princess.

Food: (pulsing in a red aura as spicy vapors rise from the midnight meal)

Angel: ......Vags?

Vaggie: ....Yes?

Angel: (pats Vaggie's shoulder) You're a good husband and father-to-be.

Vaggie: .....I'm a wife.... but thank you, Angel. That means a lot to me right now. (takes a deep breath and picks up the tray, carefully walking out of the kitchen) Wish me luck!

Angel: (salutes) Godspeed, Captain.

-A few minutes later-

Vaggie: (opens the door to her and Charlie's bedroom) Charlie, I have your food-

Charlie: (demon tail swipes out, steals the tray, and brings it into the deep, dark, recesses of the bedroom)

CHOMP!!! GRRRR!!! SNARL!!! RIP!!! TEAR!!! SNORRRF!!! CHOMP!!! CHEW-CHEW-CHEW!!!! GULP!!!

Vaggie: (slowly opens the door further once the sound of food being devoured stops)

Charlie: (sweet as a puppy, face and pajamas covered in food crumbs and sauces, and a broad smile on her face that makes her eyes sparkle) That was DELICIOUS, Vaggie! (tears up and sniffs back tears of joy) Y-You're too good to me!!!

Vaggie: (sighs and goes to the bathroom before coming back with a wet towel to help clean Charlie up) I'm doing the bare minimum, babe.

Charlie: (pouts) Then Kiss?

Vaggie: (chuckles and wipes off Charlie's face) Maybe after you brush your teeth. I'm afraid your mouth will melt my face off.

[streetlightyeri]

red, white & blue ; r.c

- where rafe thinks he can complete your outfit.

w.c: 1427

content warnings: 18+ MDNI. public sex, oral (m), soft dom!rafe, facial. no descriptors of fmc. not proofread.

a/n: I wrote this in like 30 minutes after I woke up from a nap I took while working on my Scott fic (I promise chapter 2 is coming, it's just that my doc is over 55 pages long and I'm still not done lol). enjoy<33

-

“Y’want me to complete your outfit?” Rafe asked, glancing between his girlfriend and where he was driving the golf cart. It was late afternoon, but it was mid-summer - July 4th to be exact - so the sun was still high enough that they didn’t need the headlights.

She was sitting next to him in a tennis skirt with the side ties of her blue bikini sticking out, matching the bikini top she wore. Her skin was a light, sunburnt red from the last few days she spent with him in the sun, either at the golf course, the beach, or his pool. He glanced down at her crossed legs, her right foot lightly bumping his leg as they drove; she had visible tanlines of her normal strappy sandals that she replaced with her Birkenstocks for today.

She cocked her head in confusion, “What d’you mean?”

He tried to hide the smirk that was growing on his face, but he couldn’t. “You have red and blue . . . I can add the white.”

She gasped and hit his arm, but he didn’t miss the way her thighs tightened at his words and the way she shifted in her seat. “We’re in public!”

He pulled the golf cart to the side, parked in a way that anyone approaching would see the back of his head. He slid closer to her, knocking her leg back to the floor. His warm hand found its place on her thigh, squeezing it as he brought his lips to her ear, “Come on, baby . . . don’t you want me to make you pretty?”

He grinned into her hair as she bit her lip. “What if someone sees?”

“We’re at the last hole. No one around us; they’re all too busy fucking around back at the front or have all left to go watch fireworks or some bullshit.”

Truth was, she was ready to give in the second he mentioned it. Anything Rafe wanted, he got, and vice versa. She turned her head to capture his lips, feeling his triumphant grin against her face at his win. He immediately pushed his tongue into her mouth, effectively placing her under his spell. Her manicured hand found the front of his pants while he continued to handle her thigh. He grunted against her lips when she squeezed his length through his pants. He used his free hand to grab her wrist and move it to his belt, feeling her slender fingers under his pull the leather through the metal.

When she popped his button and lowered his zipper, Rafe broke the kiss. He spared another look around for her sake; he didn’t actually care if someone saw, but if she was truly concerned with it, he’d humor her.

He grabbed her hips and helped get her to her knees without hitting anything. He instantly split his legs open to make room for her, his knees extending from one end of the cart to the other.

She always forgot how godly he looked when she was on her knees, leaving her awestruck whenever she got in that position. He had an elbow drawn back over the seatback while his other hand brushed a few strands of hair that escaped her updo out the way.

She placed her hands on his thighs, absentmindedly applying pressure with her fingertips when he placed his hand under her chin to lift her gaze. His thumb ran over her lip, pulling her bottom one before letting it fall back and pressing his thumb into her mouth and onto her tongue. She immediately wrapped her lips around it, eyes fluttering closed for a moment at the action as she tasted his sweat. He pulled it out with a plop and spread her spit around on her lips as he whispered, “So fuckin’ pretty. All for me, huh?”

She nodded earnestly; everything and everyone outside of her and Rafe were an afterthought pushed far into the recesses of her mind. “Yes, Rafey. All for you. Only for you.”

His smirk showed the tip of one of his canines. “Good,” he simply stated before slapping her cheek. “Now suck.”

She whimpered at the stinging skin, thighs closing together. Her hands slid up his thighs before her fingers found the waistband of his underwear, tugging it down just enough to free his already hard cock. She looked up at him through her lashes when she pumped him, once, twice. She watched his Adam’s apple jump when a rumble escaped him. He adjusted his hips for better access. She felt the intensity of his gaze, the warning he was sending her if she teased any more. So she let the tip of his cock hit her outstretched tongue. She gave a few kitten licks before pulling off to spit onto his shaft.

“That’s it baby, that’s my good girl,” he praised, watching as she pumped her saliva up and down him before lowering her mouth to him. His cock was heavy on her tongue; he was big - huge. She felt her cheeks burn the longer she worked him, trying to accommodate his size. Spit bubbled from the corners of her mouth, rolling down his shaft to meet with the hair at his base that trailed up his abdomen.

She knew Rafe was getting impatient with himself, trying to let her take the reins and go her speed since they were so out of her comfort zone, but she could tell in the way he gave short thrusts that he was itching to take back control. Her hand that wasn’t cupping his balls found one of his, threading their fingers together. His thumb rubbed soft circles on her skin before she brought his hand to the back of her head.

He needed no more encouragement. He wrapped his hand around her updo and started to push her farther onto his dick. The deeper he felt himself pushing, the louder her noises got. She balled her fists, trying to focus her breathing through her nose that was now touching his curls. Her nostrils filled with the scent of his cologne and his sweat, prompting her to whimper around his cock. He thrust his hips up at the stimulation, making her gag in response. He pulled her off himself, her hands taking her place, twisting around him as she gasped for air. Once again, a smirk took over his face, this time at the sight of the string of spit still connecting the two and the tear tracks on her cheeks.

When she finally got enough air, he lowered her back down, starting a steady rhythm as he murmured praises to her between thrusts, “That’s it . . . doin’ so - fuckin’ - good for me. Y’know I love your fucking mouth.”

She hummed in response, relaxing her throat as he fucked into her. Rafe had a tell when he was about to finish; everytime, without fail, he would twitch in her mouth. At that, she pulled back, resisting Rafe’s attempts to bury himself back to the hilt in her throat. He relented his grip at her insistence, but kept his hand territorially on the back of her head as she once again brought her hands to jerk him.

Her words were breathy, as though she was still trying to fill her lungs with air as she spoke, “Y’wanted to make me pretty, Rafey. Do it.”

That snapped him into action. He tightened his grip again on her hair, preventing her from moving from her spot before slapping her hands away to replace with his own free one. She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth in anticipation, eyes closing as she listened to the sounds of him jerking himself off, grunts of her name on his lips. “Gonna cover you in my fuckin’ cum. I should make you walk around with it. Make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

He finished with a heavy breath, ropes of his cum finding home on her face, with a few drops on her upper chest and breasts that began to drip down her sunburn-hot skin and into her bikini top. He tucked himself back into his pants and redid his belt, ordering her to stay still. He slid his phone out his pocket and snapped a photo of her before he used his thumb to wipe the line of his cum off her eye and gave her the okay to open them again. He thrust his thumb back into her mouth; she made quick work of cleaning it off.

Rafe ran a hand down her hair. “Told you I’d complete your outfit.”

[takami-takami]

Fixation.

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. smut

warnings— afab!reader. reader uses a strap. gratuitous oral fixation. praise. a bit of degredation.

hazy under the pulls of subspace, a needy keigo makes a show of drooling on the strap.

Keigo's pretty, dark lashes flutter closed as he bobs his head up and down, nestled and utterly fixated between your thighs.

His knees are starting to ache, if he had the care in him to notice. The carpeted floor of your bedroom chafes his skin with each delighted squirm, painting his knees the softest shade of peach; and yet still, he remains sitting pretty. The man at your feet stays obedient and poised as he swallows around the length of your strap, whining with each bump against the back of his throat as the thickness of it stretches his lips.

With a grin across your lips, you lean back on the throne of your mattress, palms spread behind you for balance. It's an exquisite display in front of you, you muse. Having a front row seat to the theatre of Keigo's descent into debauchery is a gift you both honor and know you deserve.

"Look at you," you croon, pitched low for his ears alone. Predictably, he picks up on it like a dog whistle. "Just a pretty mouth for me to use. Isn't that right, puppy?"

"Mmhmm," Keigo moans in agreement, hazy and drunk with submission. Blinking up at you, he takes it down to the hilt in an attempt to impress, gripping the flesh of your ass to pull you closer. He does his best to relax his throat, eagerness buzzing off the walls of his fuzzy brain; or what's left of it that hasn't dripped out his ears, at least.

Sticky with submission, he chases that "good boy", drooling messy around the strap and using the slickness of his spit to put his hand to use where his lips can't reach. With each upstroke, he twists his wrist, up and down following the bobs of his head.

He sputters and chokes after a particularly deep thrust, leaning back to catch a breath. Coughing, he speeds up his hand to compensate while he pants like a bitch on his knees. Once more, the tip meets swollen, glossy lips, their owner engrossed and drowning in the pool of his own depravity.

"Awww, what's the matter, baby?" You grip his chin with delicate precision at the tips of your fingers, cooing at the way he cranes his neck toward you for more of your attention. Sticky drool coats your fingertips, pulling a smirk to tug at your lips. Messy boy.

"Too much," you ask. "Or not enough?"

Keigo hangs on every word like it's gospel, melting as you bark a laugh in his face. The cruel sound shoots straight to his dick, pulls a whimper from the back of his throat.

"Maybe I should buy a bigger one, make you choke a little more for me. It'd be cute to watch, don'tcha think?"

Keigo huffs a shaky breath, rubbing his thighs together. Poor baby doesn't even notice he's doing it.

He nods his head in response, fluffs of hair mussed and twisted out of place.

"Anything. P-Please— whatever y'want," he offers without a hint of shame, diving back onto the pretty, plastic appendage like he'd simply suffocate without it filling his mouth. Eyes rolling into the back of his head, he digs his claws into your thighs to resist the temptation to fix the heat between his own.

You haven't given him permission yet, and good boys would just about die before they disobey. You taught him well.

I'll be a good boy, the last recesses of his thoughts supply. I'm a good boy, I'm a good boy— I'm good, please say it.

Finally, you indulge his little performance, how he begs like a panting dog with his actions. It's obvious what he wants.

"Who's my good boy?"

He fucking keens, doubling his efforts and smiling around the strap that's stuffing his mouth so perfectly.

You pull it back from his lips with a resounding pop to his whining dismay, sitting up and motioning him to get on the bed. The panic welling up in his eyes is adorable. It freezes you in place, catches you blindsided.

"W-Wait," he stutters. "Please, I wanna— um," Keigo blinks, trying to wrangle his thoughts together toward some semblance of coherency. "Wanna cum like this. Can I?"

Is he... asking for permission to touch? God, you want to wreck him.

He'd let you.

"Of course," you coo, running your fingers through blonde tufts. "Go on. You can touch."

His right hand shoots down to his cock, rubbing the leaking tip with his palm to start. It only takes a few huffing breaths of pleasure before he begins to encircle the tip of your strap with his adept tongue once more.

There are many practiced skills that translate into other avenues and tasks. Those who paint may have an easier time holding chisels precise.

As for Keigo, a well-trained tongue from countless hours of eating pussy translates perfectly to the exhibitionist show he makes of sucking strap.

The majority of his performance is hardly for show, either. No, the hazy glint that adorns his teary eyes is not one to be manufactured. His desire is genuine, getting off to his oral fixation being indulged to the fullest extent.

He'd enjoy this even if no one was watching. Keigo has spent many a night with his mouth shamelessly full as he took care of himself, alone; but the thrill of being seen by you spurs him on, ignites a certain kind of fire that can only be quelled with copius amounts of your attention.

He dips his fingers into the beads of pre leaking from his tip, lingering for a few indulgent seconds before he uses his own mess to fist his aching cock.

Deeper, deeper he falls. Brows furrow, his slick, reddened lips glide down; and before he has the chance to pull back for air, it crashes over his body like a heavy wave, washing his thoughts clean away and replacing them with agonizing pangs of pleasure.

Eyes rolling back, Keigo makes the brave decision to choke himself on the strap as he makes a mess of his own body, pleased with his choice once he hears your coo past the ringing in his ears.

He's a good boy, after all; and good boys would just about die before they disobey.

[spliffymae]

exboyfriend!geto…

synopsis: you were stuck with suguru geto. he was the father of your kids, earning him a lifetime supply of make-up attempts. you hated him, but you were determined to make it work for your kids.

⚠️established relationship, afabreader, toxic geto, reader got two kids by him (idc i love a good parent plot), toxic relationship, smut, cheating, geto has a daddy kink, oral (f receiving) geto is a munchhh, breeding kink too, mentions of baby trapping

kio’s notes - toxic tropes are so good that it should be bad.

⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ✺ ⋅.}──────── ⊰

exboyfriend!geto, who is also your babies father, sharing five-year-old sky and two-year-old apollo with you. two boys he loved to death.

exboyfriend!geto who you broke up with shortly after apollo’s first birthday. you weren’t fulfilled with him in your life. you were a housewife on a girlfriend status. kept at home as a stay-at-home mom, and geto wasn’t satisfying you emotionally.

exboyfriend!geto who at first, didn’t take your breakup seriously. he expected to be out of the house for a week, tops. but you didn’t budge. he didn’t realize how serious you were until day ten.

exboyfriend!geto who kept his distance at first, giving you the space you needed, but as time went on slowly became shocked at how committed you were to no longer be with him.

exboyfriend!geto who bribes sky with treats to tell him whether or not mommy has had any guy friends other than uncle kuna or uncle gojo at the apartment. but all he reports back is “mommy says the only boys she needs are lolo and me.”

exboyfriend!geto who has a key to your apartment despite no longer living there. he pops in whenever and never gives you a heads up, because he never stopped associating your place as home.

exboyfriend!geto who only lets you know his eta when the boys’ bedtime is approaching.

“i’m ten minutes away. do not put them to sleep without me” he spoke to you over the phone as he drove. he was just coming from a meeting with his bosses.

exboyfriend!geto cannot stand you now. he hated the way you managed to look ten times more beautiful now that you were a single woman. he hated how you got your lashes and nails done. you were dressed in a red silk robe, your face bare and glowing form you doing your nightly skin routine. your shoulder length locs were out and free. only thing on your face was clear, thick framed glasses and some lip balm.

“okay daddy’s here, now you two get to bed.” you spoke from the kitchen, stirring a cup of tea. the boys were sitting on the living room couch, watching bear in the big blue house. they were bathed and dressed in pokémon onesies, gifted to them by gojo on a random saturday.

the boys cheered as geto came over to them, scooping them up in his arms and giving them loads of kisses. he asked about their day, and listened to sky tell him about a bird he saw outside at recess.

exboyfriend!geto looks at you with a glare as you walk past him without so much as a greeting to go to the couch, typing away on your phone. it was you silently letting him know you won’t be with him to put the boys to bed.

exboyfriend!geto who swallows down the millions of ways he could pick an argument with you and smiles at his two boys, instructing them to go give you a goodnight kiss and hug.

exboyfriend!geto who reads his kids two stories every night, a book each of them choose. he ticks them into bed and gives them a kiss, telling how much he loves them. he gets a little sad when he puts his kids to sleep, knowing he won’t get to wake up to them.

exboyfriend!geto comes out their room after setting up their night light/white noise machine to find you now in the kitchen, washing your tea mug. he makes his way to you, hoping to work some of his charm on you, but you turn him down.

exboyfriend!geto who gave up trying to get you back after a month of rejection and gets a new girlfriend named kimmy. she’s younger than you by a year, twenty-six, and she’s a giggly, bubbly personality.

exboyfriend!geto who can’t help but smirk at the way you pushed your lips to the side in annoyance when he walks through the school’s gym with kimmy on his arm. he brought her to sky’s afternoon music recital. they had been dating for three months, and he was ready to introduce her to you all.

exboyfriend!geto who, despite getting a reaction from you, is still not satisfied in your response. because although you were annoyed his girlfriend was present, you told him it was okay to bring her. you expressed how happy you were for him to move on.

exboyfriend!geto watches as you shake kimmy’s hand, a tight smile on your lips as you looked past him to speak to her. apollo was on your hip, snoozing away. the concert hadn’t started yet, so parents were just mingling in the gym.

exboyfriend!geto watches the way you record sky’s performance, apollo still sleeping on your shoulder, but you still stand to cheer sky on. you came from work—a secretary position at gojo’s law firm. you were dressed in a long white dress with a green blazer over it and matching green heels. you were practically glowing.

exboyfriend!geto who joins you in cheering sky when he comes off the stage. you bend down so you can give him a hug, your hands were now child free since apollo woke up toward the end of the performance and wanted to be held by his dad.

exboyfriend!geto who doesn’t focus on introducing kimmy to the kids, because he can’t get over how fine (both physically and emotionally) you are.

exboyfriend!geto who is now six months into his relationship with kimmy, but still finding himself pining after you. he would show up every night to try and annoy his way back into your heart, but you never gave him an opening. you kept your guard up.

exboyfriend!geto who is really starting to get annoyed that you haven’t moved on to someone else. are you messing with him? he asks gojo to try and figure out what your angle is, but gojo just responds with “that’s the thing, she has no angle. she’s just focusing on herself and the boys.”

exboyfriend!geto who starts to feel…depressed that you’re not his girlfriend anymore. he starts to think about his faults in the relationship, his flaws and what he could have changed. he looks at kimmy and thinks if you, wondering what you were doing. he even finds himself journaling about it.

exboyfriend!geto who successfully co-parents with you, because he figures peace and cordiality was what was best for your relationship. if you weren’t going to be his girlfriend, then at least you could be his friend. that way he could keep you in his life on good terms.

exboyfriend!geto who is almost at the ten month mark in his relationship with kimmy. the boys have taken somewhat of a liking to her. you don’t talk about her privately and have let them develop their own relationships with her. geto hated you for it.

exboyfriend!geto who for the first time ever, thinks you will kill him when he sits in the hospital room with a sleeping sky, who has a cast on his right arm. the two of them were outside racing on bikes and sky went down a hill. he couldn’t keep up with the speed and fell off the bike before geto could catch up to him. the doctor said it was a clean break, and that there will be no long lasting effects, but sky did have to undergo surgery, and it was something that scared geto.

exboyfriend!geto who falls to his knees and apologizes to you with tears in his eyes when you walk into the hospital room with apollo in a stroller. geto had already left you three hefty voice messages regarding the incident, so you were up to speed as far as updates go.

“baby m’sorry. fuck, he just got away from me and i wasn’t running fast enough to catch him.” he was feeling guilty, and he gripped onto your waist as he continued to cry into your stomach. he kept apologizing, even after you told him it was okay.

exboyfriend!geto who refuses to leave sky’s side, staying at your apartment and texting kimmy to let her know he would not be seeing her the next couple of days because of it. she protested, but he paid her no mind. after all, who was she to state her opinion on what he was doing for his son?

“you can go home, he’s okay.” you said to him when he sat on the couch next to you. he had just finished tucking the boys in. ��go rest and come back tomorrow morning.” you smiled warmly. originally, you had planned to be cold to him. to make him feel terrible for getting your baby boy hurt. but you knew how parent guilt was already eating him up.

he doesn’t listen to you. instead he just slumps back and puts his hand over his face. you roll your eyes but let him have his moment, “m’gonna go wind down. let yourself out and i’ll see you tomorrow morning, g’night.” you patted his shoulder before walking away to your room.

he didn’t move from his spot. not when you left the area, or when he heard you turn the water on in your en-suite bathroom. he planned to sleep on your couch, honestly. but that didn’t go as planned since you came out now in your red robe and black bonnet over your head.

“nuh uh, geto get your ass up and go. i need to get ready for bed and you gotta be anywhere but here.” you pulled his arm to try and get him up, but he wasn’t budging. “suguru move your ass.” you groaned, you were tired from the day’s events and just wanted to sleep .

exboyfriend!geto uses his strength to pull you to fall onto his lap, still keeping his head against the back of your couch and looking to the ceiling. you put your knee up and in between his legs to avoid from sitting on his lap.

“m’really sorry about sky.” he whispered as his hand rubbed your hip, the soft and thin material of your robe moving up with his motions. “can’t imagine how scared you must’ve been.”

you shook your head, “it’s fine, suguru. accidents happen. but you guys are okay so—oh.” your sentence is cut off when geto grabs the back of your thigh and pulls it to stretch over his own, moving the other one after so that you would now be sitting on his lap.

“didn’t mean to upset you.” he put his hands right on the globes of your ass, the robe leaving nothing to the imagination as he felt how warm and soft you were through the fabric. he rubbed his hands over them, kneading your flesh.

“s’okay. i’m better now. sky’s home and he’s good. you don’t have to feel like this anymore.” you tried your best to be as cool and comforting as possible, despite the massage you are getting on your ass. you hadn’t been touched like this in some time, and were biting your lip to hold back the whines of pleasure.

exboyfriend!geto who mumbled that he ‘needs to feel something else’ and picks you up to put you on your back, resting inbetween your legs.

“g-geto.” you tried to be the voice of reason, but geto shut you up with a kiss. one that was primal and filled with his groans. your lips were as he remembered, soft and full, mixed hues of brown and pink he still loved to nip at. and your tongue seemed to remember to yield to him, allowing him to control the kiss.

exboyfriend!geto who knows you weren’t wearing anything underneath your robe. you had planned to come out after your shower and kick him out, however, because he could feel your pussy’s warmth against his thigh, he wasn’t going anywhere.

exboyfriend!geto who stops kissing your jaw to ask you when the last time you got eaten out was. the vulgarity of his question shocks you. your robe was loosely tied, now revealing your breasts. your brown nipples got hit with the apartments a.c and hardened, perky buds calling out to geto. his fingers were cold, and he used the tip of his index to touch your nipple, the sensation getting you to buck your hips, grinding your clit on his thigh.

“ah—.” it was a moan that slipped out. you had your hands over your mouth instinctively, but it got out before you could stop it. geto smiled.

exboyfriend!geto who has failed so many times before, but now that he finally has you back under him, is going to milk this so you never forget this moment. “let me in, mommy please. i been missing you so much. s’been so hard without you.” he begs and grabs your hand from off your mouth to put it to his erection,that was so prominent despite being covered by boxers and sweats.

he squeezes your hand around him, hissing and thrusting into your palm. “y’know just how to cheer daddy up, yeah? what’ll make me feel all better after today?”

exboyfriend!geto who gives you one last kiss before moving down to kiss your chest. one hand of his squeezes your left breast, his palm rubbing against your nipple to hear the faint breaths you took. his mouth went to the right, initially biting your nipple to her you scream.

“careful mommy,” he taunts you. “don’t wake the boys up.”

exboyfriend!geto is a boobs and ass man. he loves both, especially yours. if you couldn’t tell by the way your chest glistened with his spit, then clearly you could tell by the countless of purplish hickies and bite marks that adorned your brown mounds. you could’ve came from his mouth on your titties alone and he knew that but he wanted your first time to be in his mouth.

exboyfriend!geto feels your fingers slide through his hair and create a bun, tying his long hair with itself as he sucks your clit into his mouth. one hand of yours still holds tight to his head, digging into his scalp when you feel him ever so slightly bite into your bundle of nerves.

your arm is over your mouth, moaning into your limb to surpress the volume. geto was spelling his name out with his tongue against your heat, moaning at your taste. it had been too long since he last had your scent on him, since he drowned himself in your wetness. he missed you, he missed your body. he missed his pussy.

exboyfriend!geto who remembers just how long you thought his fingers were. you loved moments like this, where he would shove two into your wet hole and stretch you out to prepare for his cock. the sounds your pussy would make as he thrusted his fingers inside her, it was beautiful.

exboyfriend!geto smiles in your pussy when he feels your thighs squeeze around his head. he imagines you suffocating him, and he loved every second of the fantasy. he’s gotta get you to sit on his face next time.

exboyfriend!geto who ruts his hips against the couch cushions as he eats you out through your first orgasm. your body jolted with every flick his tongue made against your clit, but he didn’t let up. he was getting enough friction to have him moaning.

“so good to me, baby. you know just what to do to make daddy alright.” he spoke to your cunt, his finger rubbing slow circles on your clit. you were clenching around nothing, and he smiled as he sucked hickies into your inner thighs.

exboyfriend!geto who is now eating you out for his own pleasure. you were overstimulated and begging him to ease up, but he locked himself between your legs and brought you to two more orgasms. by the time his face came back to yours, the lower half smelt of your juices and he was licking the drips off his chin.

exboyfriend!geto who let’s you give him the most nastiest kiss you can muster. your lips smack, spit spills from the corner of his lips and you suck his tongue to taste yourself off him. he had never experienced you this needy before. his dick was throbbing.

exboyfriend!geto who folds you into a mating press with your knees against your shoulders. he didn’t put the tip in yet, he couldn’t. not when you we’re screwing your eyes shut.

exboyfriend!geto, who was big on eye contact, and forced you to look him in the eyes as he buried himself in you. he pushed your legs back, hands on the back of your thighs as his upper body pressed against yours. his forehead rested against yours, eyes on you and mumbling for yours to do the same.

“right here, pretty. just keep ‘em on me.” he encouraged you as he pushed in. it was snug, and he groaned from the back of his throat. his eyes didn’t close though, they stayed watching the way your head turned up and lips parted, you let out struggling breath, feeling full of him already.but you kept your eyes on him, his intense gaze driving you insane.

exboyfriend!geto who fucks you within an inch of your life on that goddamn couch. his thrusts are deep and sensual. he preferred the fast and rough ways of sex, but this called for more passion, more intimacy.

exboyfriend!geto who gets dumb off your pussy and starts to make promises you know he won’t keep.

“fuck, promise i’m gonna treat you so much better this time, baby.”

“get that house you always wanted us to have, fuck you in every room in it.”

“m’gonna make ya my fuckin’ wife. my pretty little wife.”

just empty promises you shooed off, hoping to just get your nut and leave.

exboyfriend!geto who tells you to cum together, and he’s a moaning mess in the crook of your neck, squeezing your breast as he rides out the intense climax. he hadn’t cum like that since the last time you two had sex.

exboyfriend!geto who gives you a moment of rest, giving you the impression he was finished and just needed to catch his breath before going home.

exboyfriend!geto who pushes himself from off you with a smirk. you were exhausted, you were positive you looked ike it. but geto just grabbed your wrist to pull you up, and positioned you to hang over the couch. your knees were on the seat, spread out with your back in an arch.

“geto!” you tried to object, but a swift swat to your ass cheek got you to whine instead.

exboyfriend!geto who thinks it’s almost criminal the way your body responds to him. every touch, every kiss, every slap he gave was received with a moan or whimper, whether it be to your ass, face, or even pussy. when he pushes himself into you, you grip the couch and hold back an exhausted moan.

exboyfriend!geto who grabs your jaw and pulls you back into the most perfect arch as he thrusts himself into you. his movements are sharp, their precise, and he bucks his hips just at the right angle to make you see stars. he can feel the drool from your mouth on his fingers, but doesn’t care.

exboyfriend!geto hears the way you slowly lose brain cells as he fucks you now, his strokes giving you no time to recover. you just babble out how good it feels with moans to follow. he lost all sensual energy. all the love he had for you was fucked out of him from the first round and what was left was the hate.

“think your pretty ass can just be done w’me, huh?!” he slaps your ass hard to get your attention but you had no strength to respond. your head is by his shoulder , he’s looking down at you in disgust and you feel your walls clench tighter. he grips your jaw open and spits inside of it, easing his hold so you can swallow it.

exboyfriend!geto pulls you back straight against him, now going at an inhumane pace as he forces you to look at your children’s room door. it was closed and their white noise machine could be heard through it, letting you know your sounds were drowned out.

“you’re fuckin’ mine.” he says as he leans against your head, kissing your temple. “them boys don’t prove it enough, huh? me making you the mother of my kids doesn’t tell you that?”

exboyfriend!geto who raises his brows when you shake your head no and tighten your hold on the couch. you were gasping for air but your body was matching his thrusts.

“uh oh, they don’t? why?” he teased you with his words and cock, drastically slowing down his thrusts to aggravate you. “s’cuz they’re growing up, hm? ya startin’ to miss having a baby around? need daddy to come back and take care of it?”

exboyfriend!geto who knows you know where he’s going with this once your eyes widen in shock and look at him with what he could only describe as fear. he doesn’t give you time to respond as he picks back up his pace from before, and hits that spot that has your toes curling and teeth biting into your bottom lip.

“geto!” you cried, “i’m sorry, baby. m’so sorry.” maybe if you apologized he would have mercy. frankly, you were too sensitive, but geto had not a care in the world. he started to rub your clit and you let out a choked sob, “why’re you…doing me like this, baby? ”

exboyfriend!geto, who tells you “because you tried to leave. you forgot that we’re a family, mommy. and tomorrow m’gonna fuck you like this again, and the day after that, we’re gonna do it again. and again, and again. either until i fuck you so dumb you let me back home, or you get my third baby fucked into that sweet womb of yours, so then you’ll have no choice but to lemme back in.”

exboyfriend!geto who puts his hand on your stomach to seal the deal, and cums deep inside you as you cream onto him. “regardless, i’m coming home tonight, baby.” he rides out the orgasm with you, muttering profanities as he watches how much of a mess you two made.

exboyfriend!geto who knows you’re too fucked out to object to him, so he carries you to your bathroom to clean you both up, praising you for how well you did for him. he makes sure you’ve peed and brushed your teeth before carrying you to bed.

exboyfriend!geto who leaves you to throw the couch’s cushion covers in the wash, and quickly wipe down and disinfect what could not be washed. you were too exhausted to do it now, and though he was tired, it made no sense to wait ‘til morning.

exboyfriend!geto who gets into bed with you, making a mental note to break up with kimmy tomorrow as you wrap yourself around him. he listens to you talk, “i’m being so serious when i say try that shit again and i’ll walk for real, geto. be glad i got kids wit’ yo ass and actually wanna be a family.”

exboyfriend!geto who gives you tender kisses all around your face, massages your waist and lets you know he has changed, promising to show you everyday from here on out.

this longer than a mf 😮‍💨

[goldengalore]

Sweet Creature

A househusband!Harry fic.

Summary: Harry’s daughter wants him to sing with her at the school talent show. The only problem is… He has stage fright.

Word count: 5k

Warnings: slight angst (father-daughter disagreement)

A/N: Didn’t realize I would enjoy writing dadrry this much. I hope it’s as fun to read as it was to write :)

***

Y/N is not a morning person. At all. She would live like a night owl if she didn’t have to get up at the ass crack of dawn every day for work. On the bright side, she’s one of the few lucky people on this planet who actually loves her job. It has allowed her to build a comfortable life for her family, and early mornings are only a minor trade-off.

Besides, her mood always brightens up as soon as she heads downstairs and hears the lively chatter of her husband, Harry, and their eight-year-old daughter, Savannah, emanating from the kitchen. Unlike her, mornings are not a problem for Harry and Savannah. It’s like they both wake up with permanent smiles plastered to their beautiful faces.

“Good morning, my angels,” she greets them as she enters the kitchen.

“Morning, Mom,” replies Savannah from the dining table, her little voice muffled by a mouthful of cereal. Y/N kisses the top of her head.

“Morning, Mama. You’re right on time for breakfast,” says Harry, transferring scrambled eggs onto a plate for Y/N. “Oh, and I’ve put your lunch right by the door so you won’t forget it this time.”

She thanks him and gives him a kiss on the cheek. As she’s pouring herself a cup of coffee, Savannah asks, “Daddy, are you a musician?”

“A musician?” Harry responds distractedly as he carries the pan he used to cook the eggs over to the sink.

“Yeah! Yesterday at recess, Kayley told everyone that her dad is a musician.”

Who’s Kayley? Y/N mouths to Harry. Although she isn’t able to spend as much time with her daughter as Harry due to work, she makes every effort to be present in her life and keep track of all the little details, like the names of her friends. So, the mention of this unfamiliar name comes as a surprise to her.

New classmate, Harry mouths back.

Meanwhile, Savannah, oblivious to the silent exchange between her parents, continues with her story, “She said he makes music with his friends and they have a lot of fans on the internet, so I said ‘my dad is a musician too!’ Then Kayley asked if you have any fans on the internet, and I said no, you only play music for me and Mom, and then Kayley said ‘that’s not a musician.’ ”

“Well, I suppose she has a point,” says Harry, running cold water over the pan.

Y/N frowns. “What? You write your own music all the time. Just because you’re not posting it online doesn’t mean you’re not a musician.”

“Maybe an amateur musician?” he suggests with a shrug.

Turning to her daughter, Y/N states, “Savvy, your father is a musician.”

Savannah perks up in her seat like bread popping out of a toaster. “Okay! I’ll let Kayley know.”

“You do that, honey.” When Y/N looks back at Harry, a small smile has emerged on his face, one that he tries to conceal by staring down into the sink, but the dimple in his cheek gives him away.

He likes to pretend that he’s not serious about his music, that songwriting is just a fun little hobby he dabbles in once in a while without putting any real effort into it. But Y/N knows how deep his passion for music runs. His songs are his babies. She often tells him to make more time for songwriting, though he never listens. He devotes so much of his time to other people���taking care of housework so that Y/N can focus on her job, supporting Savannah’s education and extra-curricular activities, and volunteering in the community, even offering free guitar lessons to kids. Rarely does he make time for himself and his own hobbies.

Y/N now takes her breakfast over to the dining table and sits across from her daughter.

“The spring talent show is coming up,” announces Savannah.

Y/N’s face lights up. “Oh, fun! I love going to those.”

Savannah’s school hosts talent shows every spring and fall. Everything from singing and dancing to reading poems and doing magic tricks is permitted, as long as it’s been vetted by the show organizer, Ms. Lee. Savannah always sings; she has yet to miss a show.

“Which song are you performing this time?” asks Y/N.

“I’m not performing,” she mumbles, playing around with the last bit of cereal in her bowl.

“Aw, why not? I thought you loved performing.”

“Yeah... But Kayley told everyone she’s singing a song with her dad and Ms. Lee allowed it. Now the other kids are bringing their parents on stage too. I wanted Daddy to play guitar and sing with me, but he said no.”

Y/N gasps and turns to Harry. “What? Why?”

She can see him struggling to come up with an answer, eventually settling on, “I’ve never performed for a proper audience before.”

“Harry, it’s a school talent show. The audience is going to be kids.”

He scoffs. “Are you joking? The audience is always full of parents. Remember the last one we went to? Place was so packed with parents, they ran out of seats.”

She can’t argue with that. Savannah’s school is quite big for an elementary school. The auditorium can hold up to five hundred people, and it’s always at full capacity on the night of a talent show. Parents aren’t the only ones in attendance but also grandparents, aunts, and uncles, as well as teachers and other school staff. It’s a popular event.

“Okay, well, it doesn’t matter anyway,” says Y/N. “You have an amazing voice. So does Savvy. And the two of you together will blow everyone away.”

He doesn’t seem convinced. “I dunno…” Turning to Savannah, he suggests, “Maybe you and your mum can do something instead.”

“Mom can’t even sing!”

Harry shoots her a disapproving look. “Savvy, that’s rude.”

Y/N chuckles. “I mean, she’s not wrong.”

“Well, your mum likes to dance, so maybe you can do a dance routine together.”

“But I don’t wanna dance!” Savannah protests, growing frustrated with her father’s deflections. “I wanna sing with you.”

He lets out a sigh, leaning his hip against the sink and crossing his arms, as he glances back and forth between his wife and daughter.

“Will you at least think it over?” asks Y/N. “Savvy, when’s the talent show?”

“It’s at the end of the month, but Ms. Lee said we have to prepare something by next Wednesday to show her.”

“That’s not very far away,” mutters Harry.

“Well, the sooner you make up your mind, the more time you’ll have to prepare,” says Y/N.

He narrows his eyes at her. She just smiles and bats her eyelashes at him.

“All right, all right,” he says finally, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I will think about it.”

Savannah squeals with glee.

***

It’s been a year and a half since Harry started teaching kids to play guitar. The first child he ever taught was a shy little boy named Jordi who was one class below Savannah. Harry knew Jordi’s mother from parent council meetings, and she sometimes asked him to watch her son for a couple hours after school until she got off work.

Whenever Jordi was over, Savannah would take out the little guitar that her parents had gifted her for Christmas and play with it, often strumming the same two chords over and over because that was all she knew. Jordi would watch on with an awestruck face. He would never utter a word, but Harry could tell that he wanted to try playing it himself.

It took some convincing, some lecturing about “sharing is caring” to get Savannah to lend her guitar to Jordi, but once he got his hands on that thing, he was hooked. Harry enjoyed teaching Jordi. In many ways, the boy reminded him of himself when he was younger.

Word got around on the school playground that Jordi learned to play guitar from Savannah’s dad, and suddenly, Harry had parents asking him if he would teach their kids as well. Not wanting to overwhelm himself, he took on only a small number of kids. Nowadays, he teaches four kids and sees each of them for a couple hours a week.

He doesn’t charge anything for the lessons, even though some parents insist on paying him. He doesn’t need the money. Y/N’s job rakes in so much that any amount he might make from the lessons would be a tiny drop in the bucket of their family income. He also knows that some of the kids he teaches come from low-income backgrounds, and it wouldn’t feel right charging their parents for lessons when they can hardly afford a babysitter.

The child he’s working with today is one of Savannah’s school friends, Jasmine. They finish around 6 p.m. when Maria, Jasmine’s mother, drops by to pick her up. Harry follows Jasmine out the front door to greet her mother on the porch.

“How was the lesson?” asks Maria.

“It was good. I learned to play a song,” replies Jasmine, clasping her hands behind her back and beaming up at her mother proudly.

“Wow! Already?”

“Yeah, she’s a pro,” says Harry, telling Jasmine, “We should have your mum sit in on the next one so you can show her how good you are.”

The girl eagerly nods in agreement. “Okay!”

Maria smiles and places a loving hand on Jasmine’s head. Then she says to Harry, “Hey, I heard you and Savannah are singing at the talent show together.”

His eyebrows lift up. He has yet to tell Savannah his decision about the talent show, but it seems she’s already been going around telling people that he’s performing with her.

“Oh, um… Yeah, I—I guess I am.” He rubs the back of his neck and clears his throat. “How about you? Are you and Jasmine doing something together?”

“Hell no!” She gives a hearty laugh. “Can you imagine me getting up in front of all those people and putting on a performance?”

“Sure, why not? You seem like a talented lady.”

She snorts. “Even if that were true, I couldn’t do it. See, kids have an excuse. If they mess up, it’s like, ‘oh they’re kids, they’re adorable.’ But us adults? We don’t get excuses.” She shakes her head. “You’re brave.”

“Thanks,” he replies half-heartedly. He knows her words were meant to be a compliment, but all they do is make him even more terrified about the prospect of being on stage.

“Well, Jasmine and I should head home. See you next week, same time?”

“Yup. See you next week. Bye, Jasmine.” He smiles and waves at the little girl.

“Bye, Harry!” Jasmine waves back as her mom leads her down the driveway.

He heads back into the house and goes upstairs to Savannah’s room, which is down the hall from his and Y/N’s bedroom. As he approaches, he can hear Y/N helping Savannah with her math homework. Harry loathes math. Y/N doesn’t mind it. They have a mutual understanding that when it comes to math homework, Savannah is better off going to her mother first.

The door to her room is open. She sits cross-legged on her double bed with her math notebook open in front of her, a colourful feather-topped pencil gripped between her fingers. Y/N lies on her side across the bed, propped up on one elbow; she smiles at Harry as he enters. Savannah is engrossed in the question she’s working on, brow furrowed in concentration as she stares down at her notebook.

“Is the answer fourteen?” she asks her mother.

Y/N nods. “You got it.”

She scribbles her answer in the book.

“How’d the lesson go?” Y/N asks Harry.

“Went well,” he responds, standing next to the bed. “Had a chat with Jasmine’s mum just now. She was asking about the talent show. Apparently, a little birdie told her that Savvy and I performing together.”

Y/N acts surprised. “Oh! I wonder which little birdie told her that.”

Harry and Y/N both slowly turn to look at their daughter, who tilts her chin into her neck to avoid their gazes. Harry reaches out and starts tickling her sides, making her giggle hysterically.

“Was it you?” he asks.

“No!”

“Are you sure about that?”

Savannah topples over onto her side, squirming and snickering into the mattress as he continues tickling her until finally, she caves. “It was me! It was me!”

The tickling ceases. Some residual giggles escape her before she straightens up to look at her father with sugary sweet eyes that resemble her mother’s.

“I thought we agreed that I was going to think about it,” he says.

She huffs out a sigh. “It’s been two days, Dad. How much thinking can a person do?”

He and Y/N exchange amused looks.

“Well, you’re in luck,” he says, “because I had actually made up my mind and I was going to wait until dinner to tell you, but I suppose I’ll tell you now...” He pauses for dramatic effect, watching as Savannah holds her breath in anticipation. “I will sing with you at the talent show.”

“Woohoooo!” Savannah jumps to her feet on the bed and launches herself into her father’s arms. He catches her before she can plummet to the floor, stumbling backwards a little.

“Sav! Be careful,” Y/N scolds.

She wraps her arms and legs around him like a koala bear and kisses him on the cheek. “Best dad in the world!”

He chuckles and squeezes her tight before setting her back down on the bed. “Have you thought of what song you want to do?”

“Oh, oh, oh! Can we do the one we sang for Mom’s birthday?”

He thinks back to Y/N’s birthday a few months ago. He had just finished working on a new song that he named Sweet Creature. Knowing how much his wife relishes hearing him and Savannah sing together, he decided to surprise her with a father-daughter duet. Savannah has a remarkably sharp memory when it comes to music, so it didn’t take her long to learn the lyrics and melody.

“You mean Sweet Creature?” he asks.

“Yeah, that one!”

“Um… Are you sure you don’t want to do a Disney song or something?”

She shakes her head adamantly.

Singing in front of people is nerve-wracking enough on its own, but to sing an original song that no one has heard, except for Y/N and Savannah, will take those nerves to a whole other level.

“I think that’s a great idea, Savvy,” Y/N chimes in.

He gives her a slightly frustrated look.

She shrugs. “What? I think people deserve to hear your beautiful music. It’s actually a crime that you keep it hidden away from the world, you know?”

A little smile cracks through his frustration. “Okay, I suppose we can try that one and a few others and see what works.”

Despite how far out of his comfort zone this is, the excitement that appears on Savannah’s face, and even Y/N’s, every time they discuss the talent show makes his heart sing. It might be the only reason he hasn’t scrapped the idea altogether.

***

“But I don’t wanna do that song.”

Y/N stirs on the couch, pulled from her deep slumber by the sound of Savannah’s disgruntled voice coming from the den. It’s been an hour since she got home from work. Harry and Savannah have been rehearsing for the talent show all evening, so she decided to unwind by watching TV in the living room but fell asleep not even ten minutes into the show she was watching.

“Okay, then we’ll pick another one,” she hears Harry reply. “How about the one from that movie—”

“No! I wanna do your song,” insists Savannah.

“Well, we can’t always get what we want, Sav.” His dwindling patience is evident in his tone. He rarely speaks to their daughter so bluntly.

“But you promised!”

“I did not promise. I said we’d try out a few different songs and see what works.”

“You’re a liar!”

“Savvy, that’s not very ni—”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire!”

“Savannah, come back here plea—”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire!”

She comes storming out of the den and over to Y/N. Perching herself on the edge of the couch, she crosses her arms over her chest, face set in a deep frown.

“What happened, Sav?” Y/N probes gently.

“Daddy promised we would sing his song for the talent show and now he says we can’t!”

“Baby, I’m sure he has a good reason.”

“Can’t you just tell him we have to sing it? He always does what you tell him.”

She presses her lips together and shakes her head sympathetically. “I can’t make your father do something he doesn’t want to do.”

“Yes, you can! You can make him do anything! He never says no to you. Only to me.” A sad pout forms on her lips.

“No, honey, I…”

Savannah’s eyes fill with tears. She stands up and scurries off upstairs.

Y/N has never seen herself as a pushy person. Although leadership comes naturally to her, allowing her to climb the corporate ladder with greater ease than most, she has never been the kind of leader that forces others to do things they’re not comfortable with. People, both in her personal life and work life, have commended her ability to push others to reach their full potential without being overbearing. However, Savannah’s words make her wonder if she might have pushed Harry too hard. A pit of guilt forms in her stomach.

Harry emerges from the den with a weary look on his face.

“Where’d she go?” he asks Y/N.

“Upstairs.”

He plops down on the couch next to her with a heavy sigh. She brings a hand to the back of his head, running her fingers through his soft curls.

“Savvy and I are having creative differences,” he states, earning an amused chuckle from Y/N. “She really wants to sing Sweet Creature. I feel like it’s too slow, maybe too mature for a school talent show. I wanted to try looking up some fun, upbeat songs, but she wasn’t having it.”

“It’s okay. Let her cool off for a bit. Then we’ll go and explain to her that you’re just not comfortable doing one of your songs.”

“It’s not that I’m not comfortable with it. I just don’t think it’s the right song choice.”

“H, you don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not—” He groans and runs his hands down his face. “God, why does my family think I’m a liar?”

She places a hand on his cheek, turning his face towards her. “I don’t think you’re a liar. I just think somewhere deep down, you know that the real reason you don’t want to do this song isn’t because it’s too slow or too mature but because the thought of sharing your music with people scares you.”

His green eyes blink back at her. He shakes his head. “You always read me like a book.”

She smiles. “Look, I’m the one who talked you into this. You had already told Savannah no and she accepted your answer. And then I came butting in, pushing you to reconsider. And now, she thinks I can just wave a magic wand and make her father do whatever I want, even if he’s not comfortable with it, which is not exactly the kind of example I want to be setting for my daughter.” She sighs. “I’m sorry if I pushed you too hard.”

“It’s all right,” he replies. “I need the push sometimes, honestly.”

She tilts his face more towards her and kisses him softly on the lips. When they part, she catches movement on the stairs from the corner of her eye. She turns to find Savannah sitting on the second last step, staring at the two of them from behind the vertical posts of the bannister.

“I’m hungry,” the girl declares.

Harry glances at the clock above the fireplace. “Oh, it’s late. I should get started on dinner.”

“Why don’t we all cook together?” suggests Y/N.

“Are you sure you’re not too tired?” he asks.

“No, I’m good.” She rises to her feet. “I think it’ll be fun. What do you think, Savvy?”

“Um… okay.”

“Awesome!” Placing her hands on her hips, Y/N turns to Harry and says, “Well, Dad, you’re in charge. You tell us what to do and we will get it done.”

He gazes up at her, eyes glinting with affection and amusement.

“Okay?” she asks.

He nods. “Okay.”

The three of them head to the kitchen where Harry begins delegating tasks. Y/N decides to put on some music. Although Savannah stays closed-off for the first little while, clearly embarrassed about her earlier outburst, she slowly starts to warm up, unable to resist the cheery atmosphere created by the music and her parents’ corny jokes. Soon enough, she’s singing into a wooden spoon and being twirled around the kitchen by her father, while Y/N stays by the stove to make sure their dinner doesn’t burn.

Later that night, Harry and Savannah have a serious talk to sort out their “creative differences.” She apologizes for calling him a liar and storming off; he ultimately decides they should stick with Sweet Creature as their song. Y/N also speaks with Savannah to stress that her father is not a puppet who will do whatever he’s told without question, that he deserves the same respect that Savannah shows to her mother.

***

On the day of the talent show, Y/N dashes straight home from work, buzzing with excitement to see her two angels on stage tonight. They’re already dressed and ready to go by the time she gets home, so she quickly changes out of her work clothes and touches up her makeup before driving them all to the school.

Harry and Savannah head to the music room, where Ms. Lee had instructed all of tonight’s performers to gather. Meanwhile, Y/N joins the other attendees in the auditorium. It’s still early and people are slowly trickling in. A refreshments table has been set up at the back, serving coffee, juice, and baked goods. Y/N helps herself to a cup of coffee and a blueberry muffin before finding a seat a few rows away from the stage.

The show consists of a variety of acts. A mother-daughter dancing duo, a father-son comedy skit, a grandfather-granddaughter magic act, and so much more. Y/N finally sees Kayley for the first time when she appears on stage to sing a piano ballad with her father. At the end of their performance, she thinks, “Savvy and Harry are gonna blow them out of the water.” It’s not a competition by any means, but that doesn’t stop her competitive side from coming out anyway.

Halfway through the show, her phone vibrates in her pocket with a text from Harry.

H: Can you come to the restrooms by the kindergarten classrooms? I need you.

Y/N: On my way

She stands and makes her way out of the auditorium, trying to cause as little disruption as possible. She finds Harry pacing back and forth in the hallway outside the restrooms. His outfit consists of a ringer tee with little strawberries printed all over it paired with bright green trousers. He matches with Savannah, who wore a strawberry-print skirt for tonight. His hair was perfectly styled when they left the house but now looks a bit ruffled, probably from nervously running his hands through it too much.

“Hi, honey,” she says. “Everything okay?”

He stops pacing to look at her. “No, I’m literally shitting my pants.”

A couple of older women were exiting the restroom right as he said that. They shoot him a disgusted glare.

His eyes widen, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Sorry, I—I didn’t mean literally. I was just exaggera—”

Y/N grabs his hand and pulls him into one of the classrooms nearby so they can speak in private.

“Where’s Savannah?” she asks him.

“Backstage, waiting for our turn.” He runs a hand through his hair again. “She’s not nervous at all, Y/N. Our eight-year-old daughter isn’t nervous at all about getting up in front of all those people. Meanwhile, I, a grown man, am hiding out by the restrooms.” His words come out in a frantic half-whisper, topped with a slightly crazed look in his eyes. Just as he reaches up to mess with his hair again, Y/N takes his hands.

“H, it’s okay to be nervous,” she tells him softly. “Of course you’re nervous. You’ve never done this before. Getting on stage? Singing one of your own songs? That would terrify just about anyone. Not all of us can be natural-born stars like Savannah.”

“I don’t want my nerves to ruin this for her,” he admits. “That’s what I’m most afraid of. Making a fool of myself is one thing, but disappointing our daughter is another.”

Y/N smiles, overwhelmed with fondness for the man standing before her. “Harry, she’s already so happy that you’re even doing this with her. She’s going to love you regardless.”

He nods and takes a deep breath in, blowing it out through his mouth. Then he says, “She’s just like you, you know. She has your confidence.”

“Well, she has your talents.”

“Wonder where she got the stubbornness from,” he mutters with a teasing lilt to his voice.

“That would be you, obviously.”

His face contorts with disbelief. “Me?!”

“Indeed.” She walks out of the classroom with Harry following close behind.

He scoffs. “No way. It’s you and you know it.”

“Nope.”

“Yup.”

“Nope.”

“Yup.”

They “nope” and “yup” their way back to the auditorium. She reminds him once again that he’s an amazing father for agreeing to do this and gives him a kiss for good luck before they part ways.

Harry and Savannah’s performance happens towards the end of the show.

“Our next act of the night is a father-daughter duet,” Ms. Lee announces into the mic. “We have Savannah and Harry singing an original song called Sweet Creature.”

Everyone applauds as the duo makes their way on stage. Their mic stands are already set up a few feet apart, slightly angled towards each other. Harry walks over to the taller one, his acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder. Savannah takes her place in front of the shorter mic. They look adorable in their matching outfits, their eyes sparkling under the stage lights. Y/N’s cheeks already hurt from smiling.

The two share a quick glance before Harry begins strumming his guitar. Soon, Savannah’s mellifluous voice fills the auditorium. She mostly sings the verses by herself, with Harry jumping in on every other line, his voice blending seamlessly with hers. The chorus—Y/N’s favourite part of the whole song—is sung together.

Ironically, Harry’s eyes find Y/N in the audience right as he sings, “We’re both stubborn, I know.” She flashes him a knowing grin. 

The end of their performance is met with thunderous applause filling the auditorium. Harry claps too, directly at Savannah, who returns the sweet gesture. The two of them take a bow before exiting the stage.

After the last few acts, the talent show draws to a close. People rise from their seats to mingle and compliment the performers on their work. Harry and Savannah make their way through the crowd to Y/N, who pulls them both into a loving embrace.

“You guys were amazing,” she praises. “I’m so, so proud of you.”

“Savannah! Savannah!” They hear Savannah’s friends beckoning her nearby.

“I’ll be right back,” she tells her parents before running over to her friends.

Y/N looks at Harry. “Well? How did that feel?”

He takes a deep breath, squinting his eyes a bit. “Terrifying… But good.”

“The single moms are going to be all over you after that performance.”

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

“It’s true. They’re actually on their way over here right now.” She glances over his shoulder.

“No, they’re not.”

“Yes, they are. In three… two… one…”

Right on cue, a group of three women appear from behind Harry, swarming around him like moths to a flame.

“Harry!” shouts one of them. “We didn’t know you could sing.” She places a hand on his arm.

“You and your daughter are the most adorable things I’ve ever seen,” says another.

“You’re so talented,” says the third.

“Thank you so much,” he replies sincerely.

“What song was that? I’ve never heard it before.”

“Oh, I wrote it.”

The women gasp and share shocked glances. “You wrote that?!”

Y/N tries not to laugh at their over-the-top reactions to everything he says. Instead, she decides to go talk to a few other parents while her husband basks in the glory of his newfound rockstar status.

A while later, she’s standing by the entrance to the auditorium, swiping through the pictures she took on her phone during the show, when she hears Harry whisper in her ear from behind, “Why’d you leave me alone with them?”

She turns to him, laughing at the annoyed expression on his face. “What do you mean? I was letting you have your moment. Kind of hard to soak in all that female attention with your wife standing right next to you, isn’t it?” She asks the question teasingly, curious to see how he’ll react. And as usual, his response reminds her of why she married him in the first place.

“I don’t want their attention,” he whines, squeezing her waist. “I want yours.”

“Aww.” She caresses his cheek and kisses him. “Well, maybe we should get out of here so you can have all my attention.”

His expression changes, the slightest hint of lust swimming in his green irises. “Okay, let’s find Savvy.”

“Oh, Jasmine’s mom let me know she’s taking them out for pizza. She’ll drop Savvy home after. So, yes, for the next couple hours, you have all of my attention,” she tells him, smirking.

The hint of lust turns into full-blown desire. Without another word, he starts pulling her towards the exit.

***

Thank you for reading! For more househusband!Harry and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

[autisticrosewilson]

Hiii!! Do you have any Jason & Catherine, Jason & Willis headcanons to spare?? Alsoo, permission to use on fics? 👀

Thank YOU FOR THE ASK!! And of course I love when people use my headcanons!!

For Jason and Catherine I think he gets his love of theatre, especially musicals, from Cathy. She seems like the type to study classics or work at an antique shop or something and a lot of their apartment used to be decorated with assorted knickknacks. It was a little bit of push back against her Catholic upbringing which demonized earthly pleasures and material goods.

Admittedly she used to have hoarder tendencies, she would get very attached to her collections, they became a crutch for her while caring for her mother and after her mother's death, and I think this is what inspired Jason's tendency to keep as little on him at all times. He couldn't stand the clutter for the first few months after Willis was arrested.

I've mentioned it before but I think a big part of why they never had a kid of their own after taking in Jason is because Catherine was scared of passing down her hereditary disease, especially because in my version she originally comes back to Gotham to take care of her sick mom. In this way she spares Jason from dying like her and her mother, but she ultimately fails to save him the pain of watching his mom deteriorate right in front of him.

Jason comes by his autism honestly, from both parents. Neither Catherine or Willis were particularly aware of it but they totally understood all of Jason's interests and his insistence on rigid routines. Neighbors and teachers would be like "don't you find how isolated he is odd?" And they would be like "Nope :) kneeling on the playground collecting rocks and organizing the classroom bookshelf during recess are perfectly normal. And so is him crying when the lights are too bright and eating his food section by section."

I know that Jason was the CHUNKIEST baby, I know it I was there. Catherine and Willis dressed him as a pumpkin as often as they could and he made all the girls and old people in the apartment SWOON and fawn over him. He didn't even have teeth and he was raking in candy.

Catherine and Willis had VERY different parenting techniques, Cathy grew up on a farm going to church every Sunday in Virginia while Willis grew up running Gotham's streets with little to no reliable supervision. So Catherine was kind of a helicopter mom because Jason was her miracle kid, while Willis was a lot more laid back. Which isn't to say that Willis loved him less, but Willis prefers to teach Jason to be self sufficient because he knows exactly what it takes to survive in Gotham.

Willis always wanted to take Jason fishing but due to it being Gotham...that never happened. Regardless, he tries to hit as many of the typical father-son milestones as he could because he never really got to do those things with his own father. Jason wasn't particularly sporty, but he was canonically a baseball fan and I also think he's a hockey fan, so that's something him and Willis bonded over. They definitely found their favorite bonding activity working on cars together though (can someone say shared special interest).

I actually think Jason gets his love of cooking from Willis! I imagine he worked with a lot of street food vendors and at a lot of different mom and pop restaurants, he seems like the type who bounced from a lot of different jobs throughout his teen and college years so he's kind of a jack of all trades and has a bunch of niche skills from his EXTENSIVE career. Willis Todd is much like Barbie to me. But anyway he passed down a lot of those recipes and his love for food and different cultures to Jason. Catherine can cook but after growing up being told it would always be her responsibility, something she was obligated to do as a wife, Willis's delight in doing domestic tasks like that is part of what drew her to him.

Willis had a picture of Jason in his wallet and he bragged about Jason to anyone who would listen so a lot of people recognized Jason on the streets, which put a target on his back but also so many of Willis's friends (exes) knew Jason that part of why Jason survived so long is that people were a lot more willing to help him. There was a not insignificant community of Crime Alley who were delighted as well as suspicious when Jason was adopted. There was a candlelight vigil held for him after he died since no one got to attend the funeral.

Jason has always had Catherine's smile, and he still does. It's amazing how easy it was for her to pass as his bio mom, if you raise someone long enough they'll eventually start to emulate you. No one ever denied that Jason was Cathy's. No one knew Catherine was pregnant? Some of Jay's traits are... unaccounted for? Nope Jason has the same speech patterns and gets the same look when he's judging someone and has that same light in his eyes when he's reading a particularly good book.

In tribute to them he has a tattoo of a shield surrounded by lilies. The shield is for Willis because in some languages his name means resolute protector, and the lilies are for Catherine because like her name they mean purity.

After moving in with Bruce after finding out Willis died he asked to hold funerals for both of them and they have matching headstones at Gotham cemetery. For Catherine's he chose a Bible quote (Timothy 1:7) and for Willis's he chose a dedication to the only version of Willis he knew (loving father, devoted husband, friend of many, brave till the end). The ceremony was public and the venue was overflowing with people who had known Willis, Jason learned more about his dad than he'd ever known before listening to their memories of him. Ma Gunn was still in jail but when word got back to her she sent a letter to Wayne Manor thanking him, because she might be a hateful old bitch but that was still her son.

[justhereforeskel]

Christmas Dino V1

Part 1

I'm still chugging along so it's time for updates!

Day 2

Found some old newsprint sheets in the craft room. Laid them out in a 2 x 4 foot group for some pattern layouts. The spine and tail weren't going to fit on anything smaller.

Figure 1 - the GIANT table I could have used on day 1 but didn't and now my spine STILL hates me

I then popped a line in to make to 2 x 2 sheets to see if I could get away with smaller boards for the rest of the pattern. The smaller the board is the less wrestling I have to do with the laser engraver.

Success! With a little left over to spare if I need counter weights or anything. I honestly do not know if this thing will be balance properly and I'm not gonna do the maths to find out (or simulate it in a CAD program like I've seen some others do) TRIAL AND ERROR BABY!

One trip to Home Depot later and I've secured my wood! heh

Also some gloves for preventative maintenance on my hands because we all know splinters are a thing and I cannot be trusted not to hurt myself. Next step is remembering to actually use the gloves tho. We'll see how that goes...

Anyway, off to do some fiddling with how Tyreal is gonna fit on this whole thing.

I had to decapitate my poor cardboard boi at this point, because there was just no way I was gonna try to do this with an entire limp skeleton attached.

Okay so I've got one dino skull and one Tyreal. Hmmmm...

So my first thought was just, make it super duper easy. I'll cut a notch in the middle piece and Tyreal can sort of ride it like a horse (with maybe a saddle down the road). Like this:

Okay, not bad.

BUT

sigh He's got the whole tabard of righteousness and it's made of rubber so it's not super flexible. And while it will sort of smush out of the way, it's gonna end up stuck like that and that'll just annoy me to no end.

I could get really fancy and like...cut a slit for the front and back of his tabard but that just feels waaaaaay too fiddly and prone to fucking up.

Thinking.....thinking....

What if...okay so Tyreal has a battery box to make the lights light and I'll need to make some sort of holder for it.

I did kind of want him standing too, you get more visual out of it. So what if I went, like, chariot style? I can get fancy with the sides, and create a double layer base to tuck the battery box in.

Some swearing, a few close encounters with cardboard cuts and volia! (ish)

Okay the basic idea is there but I measured nothing and it shows.

Alright, the concept works let's just try with a little more...effort.

And....

Actual volia!

The battery box fits lovely, the sides aren't too out of proportion and he's still nicely visible! Hurrah!

Tyreal also has the balance of a drunken college kid, so I've traced his feet and I'm going to try to engrave little recessed holes for them in attempt to make him a wee bit more stable.

Additional thoughts that came to me while crafting this:

I can get fancy with cut outs on the chariot sides if I want, which could be fun

Since I want the battery box to be hidden but easily accessible, I'm thinking some kind of leather wrap or tassels around the base of the chariot to obscure it but not make it a pain to get at

Since this is a chariot, he's gonna need some reins. For this year I'll probably do some sort of ribbon dealy BUT this means it's not unreasonable to make a full leather bridle for him next year. And give him a little metal nameplate across the nose band. yes yes yes

This whole contraption might just unbalance the whole t-rex but we'll deal with that later. Maybe. Shush. Bolting him to the table will totally be a reasonable solution.

Okay, that feels productive enough for the day! Now I've really gotta knuckle down and get the original pattern and the new pieces all created in Lightburn....weeeeeeeee -.-

ONWARD!