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Transblind, Transjapanese and Crutchian
Requests are open
Requested by anon
!đŚđ¸ď¸!
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More of rafe-reader-sarah please, love it đ
best friends brother Rafe is dear to my heart
𪡠ęŞŕ§ đď¸â§âËâĄď¸
âOkay, so I had a-â sarah paused her story when she opened the back door, her eyes going to the three boys in the pool.
âWhat are you guys doing?â she asked them. âI told you she was coming over today, and I told you-â
âFar as Iâm concerned, my little sister doesnât run the fuckinâ house.â Rafe scoffed, his eyes going to you, eyeing you up and down. His friends laughed, sounding like screeching vultures
You had a bikini top, with short denim shorts on. You clearly had intentions to go in the pool.
âWe can⌠shareâŚ?â You suggested to Sarah when she continued to argue with him. âI donât mind.â Rafe shrugged, looking to his friends, who didnât seem to care too much.
âFine.â She sighed, putting her stuff down on the table nearby. You and her peeled off the rest of your regular clothes and down into your bathing suits, hopping into the water with with Rafe and his friends.
The whole time, Rafe glanced to you, watching as you both laughed and giggled over something, and sipped on a martini on the side.
âDude,â Kelce hit his arm, snapping him out of his daze momentarily.
âWhat?â
âYou even listening right now?â
âNot really, no.â
Kelce groaned And Rafe rolled his eyes. âCâmon, I got the hottest girl on the fuckinâ island in my pool right in front of me with her tits hanging out and you expect me to listen to your dumbass?â
âThatâs your sisters friend, thatâs fucked up, man.â His other friend mumbled.
âSo? You act like I care.â
âJesus.â Kelce mumbled, shaking his head to himself.
#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey#đ¸ď¸.txt#đâĄÍŕłŕż asks
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terezi leaving to try to find vriska is one of the most emotional and impactful parts in homestuck to me even if it is a minor one that takes place at literally the very end. abandoning everyone and everything you know to try to save Her because the world isn't right without her. not being able to live in the universe you created because she isn't there. drifting aimlessly through an empty void and orbiting a black hole for years with no food is preferable to accepting that she might be lost forever. a girl who tried to build her persona on following logic and reasoning to form judgements, refusing to accept that vriska could be gone no matter how long she scours the empty shell of the afterlife. after everything they went through together, terezi went back to look for her, because to her there was no other option. i'm normal
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FRANCIS MOSSES 交ć ââ `` DARK CONTENTďšmonsterfucking. top amab reader. doppelgänger francis. handjob. no protection + preparation. overstimulation. âś IN WHICH you unknowingly let the wrong francis inside.
the prospect of you being firedâor worse, being put in a cellâwas incredibly likely. enthusiasm of the milkmanâs arrival being your final entry request for the day lead to your upcoming demise.
it shouldnât be on you, both the blame and responsibility. the given identity document had indistinguishable information, merely an artistâs mistake as you finally realize that his eyebrows were just a tad thicker. his eyes were a bit too lively for the real francis.
realization dawned on you a second too late as you feel cold, but strangely simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar hands grab you from behind. before you could reach the rotary phone to contact the D.D.D., he grabbed your wrist and spun your chair around to face him.
francis, or so you thought, had a gentle smile plastered on his face but you knew better to tell that his intentions were far from truly kind. âdonât tell me you were actually going to let them kill me,â your jaw tightened, gaze hardening into a glare. he chuckled, hands landing on the armrests, so dangerously close to yours that were balled in fists to prevent yourself from punching his face.
when you didnât respond, he continued. leaning in as he shook his head with a scoff, âaw, câmon. . .we both know that youâre too much of a good sweetheart, yeah? please donât try that again.â his saccharine voice was improbable, a subtle take of a threat behind his tone.
âyouâre gullible enough to think iâd do that for you.â the tension between you was palpable, a thin thread that threatened to break at the tip of his finger. his lips pouted, sadness in his untrue eyes. âme? but youâre the one who let me in here,â he laughed, tone rather arrogant, âand i should thank you for that.â
if he were the real francis, you probably would have been making out with him by now. this doppelgänger was awfully confident, you wish you could break him. see tears fall down to his round cheeks, lips trembling as pleas tumbled out of his pretty lips.
these thoughts were idiotic. but fuck, he was near enough to the milkman, the clueless neighbor who could care less about it all. âwant me to spare you? orââ you cut him off, lips connecting with his. francis was surprised, but welcomed it nonetheless. his hand came up to your neck, sliding towards your hair. groaning as he gently, almost experimentally, tugged at it. tongue met tongue, a clash of saliva and mess. you bit onto his bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan.
âmmph, and here i thought you hated me.â he grinned, panting, âwhat gave you that idea?â you place a kiss on his chin, âbecause you tried to get rid of me, and the fact that. . .iâm not him.â grabbing his hips, he let out a yelp. he scrambled to hold onto your shoulders for dear life, gasping when he felt your teeth graze against his neck. âseems like iâve struck a nerve, huâhaah, fuck!â
a lewd moan had escaped him, your teeth sinking into his flesh. it was far from gentle, biting him like you wanted to see him bleed. he was simply a doppelgänger that you stupidly let in, after all.
the pink muscle settled in your mouth lapped at the bite, cueing francis to whimper at the sensation. he moved closer on your lap, grinding against your crotch. the action couldâve been mistaken for something relating to a dog; for he seemed like a bitch in heat. quite uncharacteristic for his kind. âyouâre pathetic, mosses.â
francis, beyond belief, was affected by the use of the stolen surname more than you anticipated. his hips trembled, âthatâs, haah, not my fault. you made me like this. fucking aâ ah! doppelgänger, really? theyâd surely coâ come for you next.â his cock twitched, spilling pre-cum that formed a wet patch on his boxers. you were a lowly human, another one to get rid of, so why does he feel this way?
silence was met with his words. not until you pull down his pants, taking off what was left until his lower half was bare to you. âoh yeah? youâre letting me fuck you,â your fingers wrapped around the base of his dick, giving a single stroke, âyouâre not even trying to fight back against me, honey.â
he whined, beginning to selfishly rut into your palm. âwhat were you going to say?â francis doesnât respond and you twist your wrist, a cry slipping from him. you asked on a whim, wishing to hear what he planned besides allowing you to carry on with your life. âi-i donât know!â your thumb presses down on his slit, causing him to wrack his brain to remember. âah, ah, i meant to ask if you wa- want me to kill you right heâ hmmng!â his voice wobbled as if he was fearful, tears in his eyes and heâs suddenly ethereal.
âdo you still want to do that? to end my life?â
âno, no, please, i didnât mean it.â
you tease the vein that ran on his shaft, never failing to witness the face he makes when heâs within the depths of pleasure; of that high he never dared to reach. oh, if only if it was francis mosses. the real one, the one youâre so curious about, the one who your eyes like to linger on a bit too long for comfort. your pace picks up, palm slick with his pre-cum and the roomâs sinful with his sobs and arousal.
francis moans under his breath, âiâm cumming-!â he warns a second too late, hips bucking as the familiar fluid splatters across your fingers. the doppelgänger was your very own legendary mona lisa with how his face is painted with all shades of red.
when you swipe your thumb over his tip, he swore he had a glimpse of the deity he didnât have the conscience to worship.
beliefs were foolish; it was his opinion. with that, he thought you were the one insane. doppelgängers arenât flawed with such imperfections like humans are. he didnât need to be prepared for situations similar to this, and you used his inhumanity for your pleasure.
âughm, agh!â you had wordlessly given your cock a few pumps, no more than that before slipping inside of his tight hole. the tiniest beginning of guilt threatened to engulf you with shame, but why should you allow it? his mere purpose and intention was to murder.
his hole spasmed around you, freely welcoming the intrusion. maybe they were quite useful after all. he whined, his insides tingling with the stretch. the doppelgänger has never felt so full, or genuinely anything, for that matter. âpleaseâfuck, move already, damnit.â he, himself, was breathless.
how could you deny him?
your hands grasped his hips tightly, like you wanted to indent a marking into his flesh. cold emanated from your palms, contrasting to the heat licking at his cheeks. heâs lighter than youâd expect, hole gripping you as if he was a fleshlight. lifting him up, your tip was held onto. heavenly; as the way he wrapped around you was undeniably heavenly.
sensing his apparent impatience, you let him crash down on you. a broken gasp-of-a-moan occupied the air, globs of pre-cum building on his slit. âyeah, fuck me like that,â he breathed, instructions hazily clear to your sex-deprived brain. his ass slapped, slapped, slapped against you. shit, the D.D.D. surely ought to give you a punishment worse than death for this.
he clung onto you, both with his arms and entrance. you donât think you could really get enoughâas vague as this memory could get. your tip brushes against his prostate with each harsh thrust, slick sounds adding onto the cotton pressed into his little head, forming static and nothing else to focus on besides your cock pounding into him. âyouâre liking this- ahngm! right? like how good i feel? haa, needed your dick in me sâ bad. . .â
he pushed his hips forward, grinding on your cock as he purposely clenched. âthaaaatâs it, sweetheart. think âm gonna keep you.â
yeah, letâs hope your neighbors forgive you for indulging in him.
masterlistďšdividerďšartist kaworinx
#ě§ deals.#.đ¸ď¸ Ý Ë corrupted.khan đŚš#â azrael.worksáľáľ#thatâs not my neighbor#that's not my neighbor#not my neighbor#francis mosses#the milkman#francis mosses x reader#francis mosses x you#milkman x reader#milkman that's not my neighbor#dom!reader#top!reader#dom reader#top reader#dom male reader#dom gn reader#top amab reader#top male reader#top gn reader#amab!reader#amab reader#male!reader#male reader#x amab reader#x male reader#gn!reader#gn reader#x gn reader
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smut w chris and goody 2 shoes reader who always acts so smart and innocent w people then acts like a brat to chris?
he gets sick of it and roughly fucks her into her place , caring less for her pleasure and using her just so she knows how much of a slut she is!
LESSON LEARNED
đŠđđ˘đŤđ˘đ§đ : brat tamer!chris x fem!reader
đŹđŽđŚđŚđđŤđ˛: you get taught a lesson when you act like a brat in public.
đ°đđŤđ§đ˘đ§đ đŹ: SMUT, swearing, spanking, humiliation, face fucking, dry humping, squirting, p in v, rough sex, degradation, a sprinkle of praising, overstimulation, unprotected sex (no bueno!)
đ°đ¨đŤđ đđ¨đŽđ§đ: 2,502
đđŽđđĄđ¨đŤâđŹ đ§đ¨đđ: HAPPY KINKTOBER!!!
this is based off one of my blurbs from a while agođ
your reputation to others is excellent. youâre a nice girl, who is outgoing and will always follow directions or help whoever is in need. goody two shoes is what people mostly describe you as, which isnât that far off. however, when youâre with your significant other, your bratty side slips up.
âlet me go!â you tell chris like youâre a toddler, stomping your feet while he leads you to his bedroom. âiâm being serious!â
opening the door, he lets go of your wrist to have you lead inside, yelping when his palm smacks your ass to usher you more quickly before bending you over the edge of his computer desk. pouting your lips, you hear his heavy breathing as he forcibly pulls up your skirt. you know whatâs coming. your punishment.
your eyes start to well up, feeling the slightest bit bad that you acted like a brat in front of his friends, but youâre one of all things. âo-one.â you say between a sob when your boyfriendâs hand slaps your ass for the first time out of many to come tonight. you start spewing out apologies, wiggling in his grip thatâs pinned your hands behind your back. âiâm sorry, okay?â you admit, his hand spanking you once more. âi didnât mean to!â
âif you didnât mean to you wouldnât have done it in the first place.â chris snarls back, followed by another smack. âkeep counting,â he says through gritted teeth.
SPANK.
your cries echo throughout the room as he continues to punish your reddening bottom. each slap lands with accuracy, leaving its mark on your tender skin. your tears fall on your cheeks now, mixing with the stinging sensation. âseven... eight... nine!" you wail, your voice hoarse from yelling. your body shakes with each impact, trying to squirm away another time. again, no use.
his palm connects again, the force jolting you. the pain courses to your core, pussy throbbing in response with a mix of mercy and arousal. âten! i swear i wonât do it again!â you plea, desperate for at least some sympathy. alas, chris remains careless, his anger still fresh.
he acts like he didnât even hear your lame apology, his focus only on disciplining you for your actions. raising his hand high, he prepares himself for another smack against your now-colored rear. âeleven.â he says under his breath, starting to count for you. the sound of skin meeting skin chimes, along with your pained whimper. he pauses for a moment, letting you take a breath to let your punishment sink in â and thereâs no way out of it. then, without warning, his hand comes down again, striking your already sore ass with a vicious hit.
âtwelve.â chris states clearly, his tone lacking mercy. he continues this harsh pattern, each spank followed by a number. âthirteen... fourteen... fifteen...â the more he counts, the more you sob.
âsixteen⌠seventeen!â you take back your job, shouting after each brutal strike. your body trembles, feeling like every nerve is in pain. the heat from your bruised cheeks radiate down to your thighs and the folds of your pussy. despite being punished, you feel thrilling and excited all in one. âeighteen... nineteen... twenty!â you choke out, your voice barely audible over your heavy breathing. the tears keep streaming, skin shining from sweat.
by the time his hand falls for the twentieth time, your bottom is a crimson mess. the sting lingers, knowing itâll be that way for days. yet, youâve never been so turned on.
chris finally stops after the last spank, admiring his work. your ass is a beautiful shade of red, the perfect blend of pain and pleasure. he can see the arousal glistening between your thighs, a clear visual of what this has been doing for you.
with a firm grip, he grabs your hair and pulls your head back, forcing you to look at him. his eyes stare into yours, filled with a mixture of anger and desire. âwhat a fucking brat.â he sneers, his other hand roughly groping your numbing ass cheek. he releases your hair, pushing himself off of you with so much force you fall to the ground, landing with a thud. from the impact, your butt stings even more.
curling into a ball, you wrap your arms in front of your legs and cry softly. âi-iâm sorry, chris.â you whine, voice shaking. the humiliation of being bent over and spanked like a naughty child, combined with the intense physical sensations, leaves you feeling vulnerable and exposed.
despite the pain, you can't ignore the ache between your legs. your cunt throbs with a need that itâs confusing. youâve never felt this way before, and it scares you.
chris watches you on the floor, a smirk playing on his lips. he knows exactly what's going through your mind. âget up.â he snaps, standing tall and towering over you. âand get on the bed; on your knees. now.â he waits, expecting a protest, but he doesnât receive one. that means itâs working.
once you're in position, he comes over, his cock already half hard. âif you're going to act like a brat, you'll learn how to get treated like one, too.â chris explains, running a hand through your hair. he unbuckles his jeans so they fall freely onto the floor, dick springing out right in front of you while gripping your hair and pushing his tip against your lips. âopen up.â
trembling, you part your lips, allowing chris to guide his thick cock past them. the taste of pre-cum fills your mouth as he thrusts deeper, hitting the back of your throat. âmmph.â you gag slightly around his length, eyes glossy. you donât pull away, of course. instead, you relax your jaw to accommodate him.
he sets a steady pace, fucking your face with elongated strokes. each snap of the hips sends vibrations through your head, making your nose pressed against his pelvis. your hands grasp at the sheets below, wanting to hold onto something since heâs in full domination. youâre uncomfortable, but your pussy continues to clench with need, juices dripping down your thighs. without thinking, you start humping the blanket to try and get friction on your clit like a bitch in heat.
groaning in satisfaction as he uses your mouth for his pleasure, he can feel your throat tighten around him, fighting to breathe around his girth. âthatâs it, take it all.â he grunts, holding your head in place as he ruts in and out of your stretched lips. âthis is what brats like you deserve.â
taking his free hand, he reaches down to cup your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. the sight of you, tear-streaked and submissive, only makes him want more. noticing your desperate humping, he chuckles deeply. âlook at you, getting off like a pretty little thing. you do enjoy this, don't you?â
you moan muffled around chrisâ cock as he continues to use your mouth, driving you wild. âmmph! mmph!â you manage to respond, nodding frantically at his question. your hips buck harder against the bed, chasing the friction your clit needs. your pussy clenches tightly, a clear substance gushing out to soak the bedding beneath you.
seeing you drench the sheets, he grins, knowing he's pushed you to ultimate submission. he speeds up his thrusts, fucking your face with more power. âyeah.â he grunts, watching you fall apart beneath him. âyou filthy slut. show me how much you love taking this dick like a good little whore.â
his words are degrading, but you enjoy the hell out of it. your mind goes blank, focusing on the feeling of his cock in your mouth and the desperate need pulsing between your thighs. sensing your climax, he pulls out abruptly, leaving you gasping for air and drooling. before you can recover, he flips you over onto your back and yanks your legs apart.
panting heavily, you stare up at chris in a daze, your body still shaking from the intensity of the previous actions. the sudden loss of his dick in your mouth leaves you feeling empty. you. want. more.
the exposing of your dripping cunt has his eyes widen, as if heâs a kid in a candy shop. âjesus, chris.â you whimper, feeling ashamed by how pathetic you seem right now. âplease.â youâre desperate, not even sure what you're begging for anymore. release? punishment? his harsh words? all you know is that youâre craving every bit of him.
chris takes in the sight of your exposed, fluttering hole, his horniness shooting straight to his dick. âyou want it?â he murmurs, his fingers tracing the swollen slit of your pussy. âyou want my cock inside you; stretching out every inch of this needy pussy?â
when youâre about to answer, he lines himself up and plows in deep, burying himself in one stroke. a guttural groan rips from his chest at the tightness gripping him. âholy shit, you were made for this.â chris exhales, each pump of his hips driving him impossibly deeper. âtaking my cock like the perfect slut you are.â
a sharp cry tickles your throat as he thrusts into you, the sudden stretch sending waves of pleasure and pain through your core. your nails dig into the sheets as he fucks you, each ruthless thrust hitting that sweet spot inside you and sending stars flying behind your eyelids. âyeah! oh, fuck, yeah!â you shout, your hips bucking fast to meet his brutal rhythm. âmaking me feel so good!â
the filthy words spill from your lips before itâs too late, fueled by the overwhelming pleasure youâre experiencing. youâve never felt so full. his cock is hard inside you, pounding repeatedly against your cervix with each stroke.
his eyes flash with possession as he rails into you, living for the way your cunt clenches around him, gripping him deep. his balls slap against your ass with every violent thrust, the lewd sound mixing with your wanton cries. âmhm, scream for me.â he says, angling his hips to hit your g-spot just right. âlet everyone hear what a cock sleeve you are for me.â
leaning down to your chest, he takes a nipple and swirls his tongue around it. his other hand snakes between your bodies to rub circles over your clit, wanting to push you over the edge. âcum on my cock, you filthy girl.â chris demands, his voice filled with lust.
each bite to your nipple sends sparks of ecstasy through your veins while his stimulation on your clit has you close to the brink of release. âoh god, oh god! iâm-iâm gonnaââ your words turn into incoherent babbling as the waves of your orgasm crash over you. your pussy clamps down viciously on his length, milking him as your body shakes and becomes limp beneath him.
the grip on your clit tightens, prolonging your pleasure as he chases his release. with a final, sharp thrust, he buries himself and cums inside you, filling your spasming cunt with his seed. his cock throbs with each string until he collapses on top of you, his weight pushing you further into the mattress. âfuck, that was amazing.â he pants, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. âand itâs all for me.â he whispers in your ear, referring to your body.
after a moment of silence, he pulls out with a wet pop. a trail of cum flows, painting your thighs with its sticky substance. he rolls off of you with a satisfied smile, but bites his lip when he spots his cum on you. âturn around and show me that pretty ass.â
âwhatââ youâre cut off when he guides you on your hands and knees, in the position he wants you in. his favorite; ass up with your pussy on full display. a shiver runs down your spine. it was silly to think you were getting off the hook that easy.
he shifts behind you, hands grasping your thighs as he aligns himself between your spread legs. one finger traces the marks he left earlier, your hips backing into him unknowingly. âso eager. tell me what you need, slut. beg for it.â he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance, letting you feel his growing erection.
chris waits patiently, your body practically calling his name to be filled again. he can see the desperation in the way you arch your back, presenting yourself even more. âyou know what to say.â he points out. âi want to hear those dirty words from your smart mouth.â
he delivers a sharp smack to one cheek, watching the flesh jiggle and flush pink under the force. he massages the sting away, waiting for you to give him what he wants. âplease, chris.â you pout, feeling embarrassed about how at this moment you canât live without his cock. âplease, fuck me again, baby. use me however you want.â it seems like you donât know who you are anymore. hours ago you were tough and mighty, but now youâre small and submissive.
pulling you back against him, he lines up his dick with your soaked sex. âthatâs it, princess.â he says, his breath hot against your ear. âswallowing my cock like the good girl i know.â
bullying himself inside of your used hole, your eyes roll back from being filled with him again. just as before, you wrap deliciously around him. he sets a quick pace, the sound of your bodies conjoining bouncing off of the walls. âyouâre still so tight.â he hisses.
your mouth falls open in a silent scream as he slams into you, the wideness spreading you open and hitting spots you didn't know existed. itâs almost too much, but you love it. âyes! yes! yes!â you cry out, meeting each of his powerful thrusts. âh-harder.â
the explicit sounds of your guysâ love making fill the air, conjoining with your moans and the slap of skin. you can feel another orgasm building, your walls fluttering wildly around his base. âdo-donât stop. don't ever stop.â you babble incoherently, lost in the trance of ecstasy. âiâm g-gonnaââ
feeling your gummy walls squeeze around him, chris is determined to bring you to release. âcum for me.â he insists, brunette strands sticking to his forehead. âcome on, give it to me.â
he can feel his own high approaching, his balls tightening as he nears. he holds back, wanting to put you before him. walls spasming, your moans become a higher pitch. âiâm cumming! fuck, iâmââ you donât finish your sentence when the familiar ring of white moves down his shaft. chris fills you up one more time shortly after, ropes of cum shooting into your womb.
exhausted is an understatement. you know damn well youâre going to be walking from side to side for days, possibly weeks. âi love you so fucking much.â he breathes from next to you, kissing your shoulder. you hum in response, shutting your eyes. if that didnât make you learn your lesson, you donât know what will.
đđđ đĽđ˘đŹđ!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @freshsturns @etershine @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew @deareststurns
#.đĽ Ý Ëđ¸ď¸ăăđˇ.đĽ Ý Ë#â ⤞ haleighâs requests!#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo smut
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THE FILM YOU ARE ABOUT TO SEE . . . đđž
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INTERVIEW 014
with. mike schmidt
includes. visual filming + auditory recording, GN!reader (mentions of lingerie but no explicit anatomy), begging, facials, oral (f and m receiving)
â kinktober masterlist
mike schmidt has a thing for filming.
heâs obsessed with you, sometimes spending time in silence admiring you because he canât really believe that youâre his. heâs a bit of a loser (affectionate) and an outcast (self afflicted), so he thinks youâre out of his lead. which is why he likes to document your time together as much as he can.
he has a couple of old cameras, just a little under a decade older. they work perfectly fine though, and he always has to take a picture of you with his polaroid or film you for just a few seconds whenever youâre together.
most of the documented content is innocent. you dancing around the kitchen while you help prepare dinner for the three of you (abby is singing in the back of that one). you standing in front of the mirror fixing the final touches on your dallas cowboy cheerleader costume with an infectious grin on your face. you mumbling in your sleep while your head rests on mikes chest.
but a solid amount of the content is mature, hidden away on discs and polaroids and cassettes in a closed box tucked away in a messy corner of his closet.
this content is audio recordings of you begging for mike, your voice high and breathy. he remembers that night, your hands in his hair that was slightly too long at that point. he was between your legs, his mouth just inches away from where you were trying to get him. it felt good for him to have the upper hand in that moment, a cocky smile on his face as he started to bask in the newfound power. it was one of the first times he realized how much he affected you, and he instantly wanted to record it. what the two of you ended up producing was fifteen minutes of you pleading and moaning and borderline sobbing as mike got you off with his tongue.
thereâs a few discs, labeled with the date in either of your handwriting (mikes borderline scrawl and your neater script), housing content of mike fucking you slow, thrusts long and deep. heâs usually the one holding the camera, lenses at you as youâre on your knees with pretty doe eyes or above him bouncing and grinding with your eyes pinched closed. thereâs some times, though, when you take the camera from him, met with nearly no resistance because these are the hours where heâs limp to your delicious torture. when heâs so wound up that just the first few licks from you has his grip loosening around the object, allowing you turn the lens on him, capturing his rosy cheeks and curly hair sticking to his forehead and his brown eyes watching your every move.
then thereâs the polaroids, the only evidence that frequently makes voyages outside of the old shoe box whenever youâre apart. he has pictures of you with your hands over your face, but a smile clear beneath your palms. these were the ones taken first, before youâd gotten into the videos and cassettes. you were shy then, only giving the camera glimpses of your new lingerie set, which was usually the incentive for mike pulling the camera out in the first place. thereâs pictures from when youâd gotten more confident, thereâs photos of you post-sex, a loopy lopsided smile on your face, arms thrown over the parts that mattered but you were bare otherwise.
then thereâs the ones that are completely debauched. the ones he hesitates to take out in fear that heâll leave them lying around somewhere. his favorite of the small bunch is of you sitting on his bed, legs spread and bent at the knee, palms pressed into the mattress behind you. your pose itself is almost innocent, a grin on your face as you stare at the camera. youâre clothed too, for the most part, wearing underwear that covers what needs to be covered. but itâs the white spurts that paint your skin that makes this particular picture so raunchy. along your chest, in the center of your underwear, and â his favorite spot â all over your pretty little face, breaching into the baby hairs around your face.
#đ¸ď¸ đđđđđđđđđ#mschmidtsworld!#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt#mike schmidt smut#fnaf movie#five nights at freddy's#(thats where i wanna be)#celeste writes misc#kinktober 2023#kinktober
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please do a slytherin boys reacting to you being a hufflepuff pls
SLYTHERIN GUY'S REACTION TO YOU BEING A HUFFLEPUFF | â§âşă
Pairing : (Mattheo , Tom , Theodore, Lorenzo , Draco) x reader
Notes : okay so now only Slytherin left and next will definately be an enhypen post , it's been too long since I posted something for them đ
Warnings : not proofread , written in a hurry my bad guys
MATTHEO RIDDLE
Mattheo's smirk widens as he gazes at you, unable to contain his amusement. "Well, well, well, my dear Hufflepuff," he begins, his tone playful yet affectionate, "aren't you just the epitome of kindness? It's like you're allergic to anything even remotely sinister." He chuckles softly, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "But fear not, my sweet, for I'll be your guide through the shadows. Together, we'll navigate the dark corners of Hogwarts, with your innocence as our secret weapon." He grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Who knows, maybe you'll even rub off on this Slytherin and teach me a thing or two about being... less evil." He winks, his playful tone laced with genuine fondness for you. "But until then, let's just enjoy the ride, shall we?" You can't help but laugh at his teasing, feeling a surge of affection for the charming Slytherin who's captured your heart.
TOM RIDDLE
Tom rolls his eyes at the mere mention of Hufflepuff, muttering about the insignificance of a house that values kindness above all else. He's determined to toughen you up, constantly pushing you to shed your soft exterior and embrace the cold, hard reality of the wizarding world. "Kindness is a weakness, darling," he'll growl, his gaze steely as he lectures you on the importance of ambition and cunning.
He'd manipulate you by turning you against your friends because in his eyes you are born to evil that's why you ended up with him , your friends are the wrong influence "And those so-called friends of yours? They're just wolves in sheep's clothing, waiting to take advantage of your sweet nature. But fear not, my dear, for I'll always be here to protect you" He's there even if it means scaring away every potential suitor with a well-timed glare.
THEODORE NOTT
Theodore can't help but chuckle at the irony of your Hufflepuff allegiance, but it's all in good fun. He'll mock you mercilessly, recounting every Slytherin victory over Hufflepuff in Quidditch or other competitions. Yet, despite his teasing, Theodore knows when to concede defeat, his love for you outweighing any petty house rivalry.
"Alright, alright, my little badger," he'll sigh, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I may be a Slytherin, but you've got me wrapped around your little finger. Just promise me you'll stop bringing up that time Hufflepuff beat us in the House Cup. It still stings, you know."
LORENZO BERKSHIRE
He'll even go as far as pretending to roar like a ferocious dog lion - oh the irony , whenever someone gets too close, much to your amusement.
Lorenzo can't resist the urge to baby you at every turn, his heart swelling with pride whenever he looks at you. He'll hover protectively by your side, his arm draped over your shoulders like a shield against the world. "My sweet little badger," he'll coo, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'll protect you from every danger, real or imagined. No one's laying a finger on my precious Hufflepuff, not while I'm around."
DRACO MALFOY
Draco's annoyance is as evident as ever, his aristocratic features twisted into a perpetual scowl (his resting face actually) as he begrudgingly accepts your Hufflepuff allegiance. He'll grumble about the stupidity of your house, his annoyance palpable in every word he utters. "Hufflepuff" he'll mutter under his breath, as if the mere mention of the word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
But despite his disdain, Draco can't help but crave the princess treatment you're all too willing to provide. "Fine, Hufflepuff," he'll huff, crossing his arms in a dramatic display of annoyance. "But don't think for a second that I'm not expecting extra cuddles to make up for it."
ăăăăăâ§ăăăăâşă ă ăă
#đ¸ď¸â§âşăjiho's masterlist#đ¸ď¸â§âşăharry potter's work#đ¸ď¸â§âşăslytherin boy's work#slytherin boys x you#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin x reader#slytherin boys#yandere slytherin#slytherin boys smut#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle smut#tom riddle x y/n#mattheoxreader#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle smut#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott smut#lorenzo berkshire smut#lorenzo berkshire x reader#draco malfoy smut#draco malfoy x reader#yandere harry potter#harry potter x reader#harry potter smut#harry potter yandere#marauders#marauders smut
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Transrussian
Requests are open
Requested by anon
!đŚđ¸ď¸!
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Better on you
18+, MDNI, p in v, save a đ ride a đ¤ ! Porn with no plot at all
âShit.â He grunted, hands on your hips as he guided you up and down on his cock, your head was thrown bad in pure bliss before he hit the skin of your thigh.
âEyes on me, darlinâ.â He said, making you snap your eyes open and look at him, a smirk falling over his face, an idea popping into his head.
He looked gorgeous, nothing on his body except for his hat loosely on his head.
His hands reached for the hat, you furrowing your eyebrows as he took it off and put it on top of your head, fitting it onto your head. You glanced up at it and back at him.
âI like it better on you.â He told you, and he swears he could cum from the sight of you in that moment.
He looked up at you, on top of him, your hands strewn across his chest and his hat on your head. He let out a low groan again, and moved his hands back to your hips, helping you speed up as you let out a squeal.
âSh- shit, Rafe!â
âYou just need me to do everythinâ for ya, donât you?â He asked you. âThatâs aâight.â He mumbled, watching as you came undone on his cock with a cry of his name.
#queue#cowboy!rafe#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x smut#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#cowboy!rafe smut#my fics#đ¸ď¸.txt
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it's the end of the line!
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BOYYYYY THE MILKMAN SMUT WAS SO GOOD. care for another one? i NEED to fuck the real francis mosses nowâŚiâm imagining the doppelgänger being jealous asf of him too ouuujhhhh
FRANCIS MOSSES 交ć ââ `` DARK CONTENTďšnonconsensual voyeurism. top amab reader. doppelgänger francis is watching, real one doesnât know it. dry humping. clothed sex. different timeline from prev fic. âś IN WHICH francis wants to be more than just a neighbor.
for who to blame, you donât permit yourself to think. francis, the lovely neighbor, is propped on your lap. poor man was flustered, sweat gathering on his skin like a coat. gullible; and so unaware. entirely dumb of the fact that his doppelgänger was gazing upon the scene through the crack of your bedroom door. you could almost imagine the creatureâs expression, twisted in envy.
your palms cupping his hips, which are erratically pressing themselves against you. chasing after the friction he craved during the in-betweenâs of his working hours, pent up frustrations translating into insatiable sexual desire.
âgosh, âm sorry... hnngh, needed to feel you against me.â his teeth grit with a whine, tucking his head to your shoulder. effectively obscuring his ever burning pit of shame which laid heavily in his gut.
supposedly, you were to help him of deliveries as a nobleânot only a doorman but as well aâcitizen. however, you were not put in a situation to complain whilst he clutched onto you as he switched to tantalizing grinds. âcouldnât wait anymore, hm?â
words a tease, he could feel himself losing track of the rhythm. sloppy and unexperienced; though not enough to be labeled as someone so pure from filth. âplease,â the doppelgängerâs eyebrows wrinkled with disgust at the actual francisâ plea.
âplease, i, mm,â and the milkman is at a loss for words.
the creature, despite his apparent hatred, palmed his cock within the confines of his pants. fuck, his tip was leaking with pre-cum that without a doubt painted his length in a creamy tone.
he was ablaze with jealousy while you got your dick wet with the one whose identity he attempted to steal. âsay it.â the commanding quality of your voice left no room for objections that even he felt the obligation to speak his thoughts.
âcan- can i take off your pants? i want you inside me..â what a darling francis mosses was.
a humming released from your sealed lips; he waits. ânot completely,â heâs confused until you pull the zipper, freeing your cock from the side and his shyness returns. âbetter?â
francis nods, cheeks warmed at the scenery. the doppelgänger despised that. âiâm ready, did it myself this morning.â he sheepishly mumbles, releasing himself of his lower garments. âdid you plan this?â
itâs taken as an accusation. âno!â couldâve been an exclaim if he wasnât so breathless in effort of aligning his hole to your tip, âbut iâve... imagined it, you know. keep myself awake toâ oh fuck.â
an inch, then a second, and now youâre void of a clue. rewarding yourself with the relief of triumph of the theory that he would feel a lot better than the copy; he is.
if you were to say that aloud, youâre sure the targeted one would be angry enough to keep you from finding your release.
francisâ thighs lay atop of yours, warming your cock with his sensitive walls. he tries to lift himself up, only to realize he was incapable. energy spent due to the earlier attempts. you are met with a whimper, a look in his eye, and the trembling of his lips.
the other tenants are certain to file a complaint.
masterlistďšdividerďšartist kaworinx
#ě§ deals.#.đ¸ď¸ Ý Ë corrupted.khan đŚš#â azrael.worksáľáľ#thatâs not my neighbor#that's not my neighbor#not my neighbor#francis mosses#the milkman#francis mosses x reader#francis mosses x you#milkman x reader#milkman that's not my neighbor#dom!reader#top!reader#dom reader#top reader#dom male reader#dom gn reader#top amab reader#top male reader#top gn reader#amab!reader#amab reader#male!reader#male reader#x amab reader#x male reader#gn!reader#gn reader#x gn reader
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devil in disguise đŠ¸đ¸ď¸
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#halloween#horror#horror movies#pumpkins#ghosts#coffee#tv#poetry#art#vintage#retro#movies#chill#spooky vibes#spring#2024#đ#đ¸ď¸#đş#âď¸
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BUT YOU'RE NOT MINE. miguel o'hara
description. if you're not his to have, why do you look like the one he has loved? why do you spread your legs and whine and moan for him?
includes. DARK CONTENT 18+, DUBCON & CNC ELEMENTS (it's complicated fr), SMUT 18+, slightly angsty but mostly filfthy smut, fem!reader, massive size kink, dacryphilia, p n v, oral (fem receiving), animalistic miguel (fangs and claws included), possessive miguel, reader is a variant of miguel's late wife, reader's miguel is dead, slight dumbification, power play, cervix kissing, brief mention of paralyzing reader unwillingly, told from miguel's pov (still 2nd person), creampies, like 3 spanish pet names (author does not speak spanish)
wc: 5.5k+
fanart creds to @shuploc
â kinktober masterlist
He stalks his prey from the window.Â
The house looks the same. Thereâs not much dust anywhere, thereâs still four seats at the kitchen table and the still slightly cluttered island, the couches are the same worn in set. He canât tell what the floorboards are like from outside, but he figures that thereâs still the scratches from young Gabriella, or the times he dragged his luggage across the living room instead of picking it up like you wanted him too.Â
He wonders if the kitchen has the one mixed matched knob on the furthest left cabinet like his house does. He remembers the time he underestimated his anger fueled strength, leading to the custom made knob being ripped off the wood. He remembers how upset you were for a second, mourning the loss, and then the flare of lust in your eyes as you looked at him.Â
You look the same.Â
A little thinner, clothing a little more muted than before, but youâre still you.Â
Even though he knows youâre not the woman he married.Â
And heâs not the Miguel you married.Â
But youâre still his wife.Â
He notices you wear your wedding ring, the band accompanying it, and he notices youâre wearing the necklace he got you for your first anniversary. So much is the same that he finds it hard to believe heâs in a different universe. Heâs finding it hard to believe that he wasnât supposed to be here.Â
But the confusion on your face when you open the door quickly reminds him.Â
It takes a while for you to calm down from the hysterics. He makes you your favorite tea, marveling, because this is the same, too. He rubs your back when you start to inch more towards him than away. He coos in your ear lovingly, calling you the sweet pet names that you always responded to.Â
And when your cheeks are dried just enough, Miguelâs lips are on yours.Â
He meant to lead more up to it. He didnât even think he came here for this. But you smell like you and you look like you and you feel like you and Miguel just couldnât take it anymore.Â
You stall in the kiss, freezing against him, but Miguel continues. He knows you love him. He knows youâre as eager to see him as he is to see you. And he knows you want him as much as he wants you.Â
You kiss him tentatively at first, and Miguel slows to let you set the pace. He follows your lead, gently connecting his lips with yours, a hand rising to cup your cheek. He slides his palm towards your head to stick his fingers tips in your roots, digits separating around your ear. Itâs shocking almost, how his hand envelopes your entire cheek; fingers spread close to your eye all the way down to your jaw.Â
And itâs with this ââ and your hands going to his shoulders ââ that Miguel realizes just how much bigger than you he is. He almost dwarfs you in comparison, having both stature and structure over you.Â
The thought makes him animalistic.Â
He groans into the kiss, his other hand cupping your other cheek, and he canât take it slow much longer. He kisses you aggressively, noses smashing together before he tilts his head, and even then his nose digs into your cheek.Â
You hum, slightly apprehensively, and Miguel feels your eyebrows furrow. Your hands lay over his, and he thinks youâre going to push him away. He prepares himself.Â
But you donât.Â
You keep kissing him, movements still slow so you donât move in time like you should.Â
But Miguelâs forgiving.Â
He takes one of his hands away to slide it down your back, rough palm rubbing against the worn in fabric of your crewneck. It fits you a little big, Miguel remembers from when he came in, and he wonders if itâs his. The him from here, smaller due to the lack of necessity to go out in a Spiderman suit.Â
The envy that he feels makes him aggressive. This time he growls.Â
Miguel fists the back of your shirt, using his grip to pull you impossibly closer, and itâs with this movement that you pull back.Â
He chases your lips, and you let him kiss you once, twice, and Miguel goes for a third time until your lips pull from his with a smack.Â
âMiguel âŚâ you say, voice uneasy, a little shy. Not like his wife but he remembers that youâre not his wife.Â
Heâs instantly apologizing, fear rising in his chest. âIâm sorry. Am I too much?â
Your smile is soft and comforting. Miguel quickly feels at ease and he suddenly wants to cry. Just the effect youâve always had on him.Â
âNo. Youâre never too much for me. Iâll always want you. Always.âÂ
And thatâs the same too. His eyes soften for a second, widening as his eyebrows lift. He searches your gaze for the look, the one that tells him you want this, that this is where you want the night to go. Because he doesnât know if thatâs what you mean.Â
But you smile gently, you nod, you bite down onto your bottom lip, and Miguel knows.Â
His body engulfs yours.Â
You lay there, small in structure, but also in nature, too. You look shy, timid, intimidated by the large man above you. Which does nothing but hardens the prominent length between Miguelâs legs.Â
He likes that he has this above you. He likes that your safety, your pleasure, your comfort, all relies on him.Â
Most of all, he likes how your legs spread for him, even though your mouth says something different.Â
âMiguel, I donât think we should do this. Youâre not my husband, youââ
âIâm not?â He dips down, teeth nipping at your neck. Itâs just his front ones this time. He licks the spot, kisses it. âAm I not your husband?âÂ
Your head shakes and your hands go to his shoulders.Â
âN ⌠No. Youâre not my Miguel. Youâre not the father of my child.âÂ
Miguel hisses and his chest flares with anger. He didnât need the reminder, not at a moment like this. He fists the sheets beside your head to calm himself, but when he nips you this time, itâs with his sharp canines. Itâs not strong enough to pierce your skin, maybe not even strong enough to sting.Â
You suck in a sharp breath anyway, realizing you did something wrong, and youâre quick to apologize, leaving Miguel to shut it down.Â
âDonât apologize, cariĂąo. Just be good for me, yeah? Let me feel you.âÂ
His free hand slides down between your legs, forcibly cupping your mound, pushing the heel of his palm into the area where your clit resides. You hiss, your back arching, but your hands push at Miguelâs shoulders.Â
âMig, this isnât right, this isnâtââ but heâs cutting you off, tired of hearing your excuses.Â
His lips kiss at the sensitive skin of your neck as he speaks, his mind racing with how soft your skin is, and how thin the layers truly are. If he wanted to, he could easily sink his fangs into you, claiming you forever.Â
He considers the thought as he chooses to gently press his lips into your skin instead.Â
âYou donât know how long Iâve wanted this. Missed you so much, beautiful. I need you.â Your sounds are soft, little breaths, almost mewls whenever Miguel sucks harder in a spot.Â
Itâs all music to his ears. It does nothing but fuels his desires more and more. He wants you louder, he wants you to whine and cry for him.Â
And Miguel has always been determined. Heâll do anything to reach his goal.Â
His middle and ring fingers separate from the rest on your mound to press between your lips, the pinky and pointer fingers spreading them so his middle fingers can settle between.Â
Your mouth falls open.Â
Miguel can tell when he hears the clearly audible breaths you let out that sound a lot more like panting than breathing.Â
âYou still make those pretty little noises, too, yeah?â He pulls his head out of the crook of your neck to look at you head on, brown eyes searching yours. If heâs reading you right, heâs noticing it all. Thereâs shock, some guilt, maybe a tiny bit of fear, but Miguel can clearly see the arousal in them.Â
He canât help but smirk, smug and overconfident as he tilts his head. âI wanna hear everything, okay? I need to hear how good I make you feel.âÂ
He leans down, forehead pressing against yours, and youâre so warm, nearly sweating even though Miguel has done absolutely nothing to bring you true pleasure. Your eyes close while his stay open, and Miguel takes a second to admire just how gorgeous you are.Â
He takes in all of the similarities; from your eyebrows, to your eyelashes, to your nose, to your lips. But itâs beside your lip that he notices something not right. You have a scar, deep enough to be visible, clearly healed, but itâs there. His eyebrows furrow, he gets possessive, he gets angry, because you werenât protected. Youâd gotten hurt, and he knows that if he were here, the Miguel above you not the other one, this wouldnât have happened.Â
So when Miguel presses his lips to yours, itâs soft at first. Gentle for a few moments as he tries to communicate the fact that this Miguel, while he might not be your husband or the father of Gabriella, is willing to be your protector all the same.
He wants to be more gentle with this entire ordeal, but you start to kiss him back and he loses it again. He starts to devour you, face a little scrunched as he pushes his lips against yours, moving with a pressure and pace that overwhelms you.Â
Your smaller hands fist at the fabric of his shirt, bunching the material up at his shoulders, pushing at them but Miguel barely even moves. Miguel understands that your reaction comes from the way heâs attacking your lips, but the more illogical part of his brain reasons that you want his shirt gone, so he pulls back long enough to yank the fabric over his head with one hand.Â
Itâs thrown off and into one of the clean corners of your bedroom, Miguelâs eyes quickly taking in just how clean the room is. He notices the lack of anything belonging to him, save for an old pair of sneakers that sit in the vicinity of his shirt.Â
Sadness overtakes him for a second, but then he hears your soft âwowâ and he turns back to you. Your eyes are tracing his exposed body, taking in his physique. Your hands reach out, hovering over his biceps before they rest fully upon them. Itâs amusing to Miguel, the way you squeeze the area and your eyes widen more.Â
Your heart starts to beat faster, Miguel can hear it in the silence of the bedroom, and when your eyes look at his again, he sees a bit of fear in them.Â
He tries not to have a positive reaction to the emotion, but he canât help it. Heâs entertained, thinking of how youâre finally realizing that Miguel is bigger than you. So much bigger. He can do whatever he wants at this moment, and you have to take it.Â
He doesnât know if youâre aware, but you fucking whimper. You sound like a terrified pet, facing danger inescapable to them.Â
Miguel reaches his free hand out, cupping your cheek just as his occupied hand starts to rub up and down your slit. Your lips part, your eyebrows push together, and Miguel smiles.Â
âIf you want me to stop, all you have to do is say it.âÂ
You know the code word, Miguel made sure of it before you reached the bedroom because he would never hurt you. Not if he could control it.Â
You just stare at him. Not saying anything. And Miguel subtly feels your hips shift to push further down, more into his touch.Â
He takes it as his go ahead.Â
He sits back on his haunches, all six feet and nine inches of him, his chest rising and falling with shallowly taken breaths as he eyes you beneath him.Â
Stripped of your shirt and shorts, wearing nothing but a clearly loved bra and a pair of printed cotton panties. Thereâs no manufactured bow in the center of them, and Miguel briefly wonders if you still have those. He thinks back to how youâd always pull them out for date nights, or nights where Gabriella wouldnât be home, and when heâd comment on them, hinting that you were surely expecting something, you said nothing, gently smiled, and turned towards the bathroom.Â
Miguel doesnât realize it, but heâs gotten lost just staring at this single garment. Your wiggling hips breaks him out of the trance and he slips his thick fingers beneath the elastic waistband of your panties and he starts to pull them down your legs.Â
The movement is awkward, a product of your refusal to work with him. Your legs are spread too far, you wonât close them enough to let Miguel slide your panties down, it fucking frustrates him. Heâs holding back a growl, his lips clamped shut in a thin line so he doesnât snarl.Â
âBaby, just close your legs a little, let meââ but his words are cut off as Miguel grips one side of your underwear with both hands, and then the fabric is broken into two.Â
A sharp gasp from you and your legs clamp shut. But Miguelâs not having any of that. His hands, palms rough against your soft skin, grips your knees, muscles barely flexing as he easily pulls your legs apart.Â
He briefly wonders if the lack of resistance comes from your own personal will, or if heâs just that much stronger than you. Either thought has Miguel feeling a little dizzy, his blinks slowing as your opened legs reveal a slickened cunt.Â
Pretty, glistening with your juices, evidence of how much your body wants him. He starts to salivate a little, his enhanced nose picking up on the aromatic scent coming from you.Â
Miguel barely realizes that itâs happening, but suddenly heâs leveled with your cunt and his breath is fanning against the most sensitive parts of you.Â
You jump, moving a little further up the bed and away from him, your escape futile when large hands drape over the tops of your thighs, pulling you back to him and pushing you down into the mattress simultaneously.Â
Miguelâs sure that the sound that escapes from your mouth wouldâve been a whimper if he hadnât decided that now was the time to lick a long stripe from the lowest point of your cunt, to the clit.Â
Itâs slow, a little torturous on his end, but itâs worth it with the reaction you give him.Â
Mouth dropping, eyes widening as your eyebrows attempt to meet in the middle, your hands fisting the sheets, your hips trying to pull away from him and get closer at the same time.Â
How reactive you are does nothing but excite Miguel.Â
He launches forward, head burying in your essence, his nostrils flaring as he takes deep inhales. He gets lightheaded for a second, the dizziness coming back, but he reminds himself to breathe when his nose bumps against your clit and he hears you take a deep inhale.Â
What follows is Miguel Oâhara behaving in a way that can barely be akin to a man, more akin to a beast, as he tries his best to devour you. The sounds are sinful; Miguelâs saliva combining with your wetness, his tongue uncoordinated as it plunges into your walls and comes back out to slurp the surrounding area.Â
This isnât his best work, and he wants to correct his technique to bring you more pleasure, but he canât get enough. Heâs like a man starved, attempting to consume a meal as if someoneâs waiting to take it away from him.Â
Briefly, heâs reminded that someone could take this all away. He canât stay for long, or else your universe could collapse. He shouldnât be here in the first place. But his greed, the very thing heâs displaying now, brought him here, completely on selfish desires.Â
Guilt attempts to cloak his being, but you whine and Miguelâs right back in it.Â
He lifts his mouth to wrap his lips around your clit. He sucks, once, twice, flattens his tongue to swirl the bud around, and then he bares his teeth, turns his head to the left, and his right fang gently connects with the sensitive nerve ending.Â
A little gasp comes from you. âFuck,â you whisper, and Miguel wouldnât have heard it if it werenât for his enhanced hearing.
Itâs a positive reaction, he figures, so he does it again. And again. And one more time before he has two fingers plunging into your walls, inching further in even as you heave.Â
âNot used to this, are you? Your little fingers havenât been cutting it. Need something bigger to fill you up.âÂ
Miguel lifts himself again, arm going to rest beside your head, body hovering over yours once more.Â
You donât say anything, but Miguelâs fine with that. The pads of his fingers are deep inside of you, theyâre massaging your walls, curled and reaching for the spot that Miguel still hasnât forgotten. He finds it after a little too long, and you try to stifle the sound by biting onto your bottom lip, but Miguel can see the pleasure.Â
It shows in your wide, pleading eyes. In your raised eyebrows. In your flared nostrils.Â
He smirks, proud of himself, and pays special attention there.Â
âThatâs it. There it is. âS all the same.âÂ
He kisses your cheek and his fingers slowly pull out, only to thrust back in, finding the area of that spot over and over again. It has you mewling, your legs spread, your body clearly enjoying it even though you pretend the opposite.Â
âMig, Miguel, please, I ⌠Iâm, itâs allâŚâ Youâre saying so much but so little. Little jumbles of words that preface something that never comes. He canât tell if youâre begging him to keep going or to stop. He doesnât know if he could stop even if he wanted to.Â
Not with the way youâre so obviously close.Â
One of your hands fling to wrap around Miguelâs wrist, and he fucking laughs when he sees that your pointer finger and thumb is miles apart, on opposites sides of his wrist.Â
âDonât know how youâre gonna take this cock, baby. So fucking tiny beneath me. âM gonna split you open.â The words are whispered in your ear, meant as a warning, maybe even a promise, but it feels borderline threatening coming through his bared teeth.Â
Your head turns away from him, your eyes squeeze shut, and youâre practically intelligible when you say, ââM close.âÂ
Itâs like Miguelâs been presented with a goal that could alter everything. He needs to make you come, this time being the first of many tonight.Â
He has a thirst that can only be satisfied by feeling your walls squeeze and flutter around his fingers.Â
He kisses your temple, his fingers speed up, and heâs encouraging you.Â
Not even a few moments later Miguelâs fingers are constricted. His hand lifts with your hips, his ears drink in the sounds you let out; little moans and huffs of air that youâre clearly trying to keep hidden. Which Miguel is fine with for now, because he knows in due time youâll be screaming around his cock, not even aware of the sounds that you make as you reside in complete ecstasy.Â
Youâre barely calmed down, the occasional twitch still in your legs, before youâre looking over at him.Â
He stands off to the side of the bed now, eyes on you as his thumbs dig into the elastic of his gray sweatpants. He tugs them down, watching your eyes trail down his body. He exhales, abs flexing with the breath, and your eyes get just a little wider.Â
But when his sweats are on the floor, and heâs stepped out of them, your eyes are low, lidded not just from the directional change, trained on the way his cock is straining against the stretchy fabric of his briefs.Â
He steps closer, hand cupping your cheek, head dipped as he looks at you.Â
âWould you like to do the honors?â A phrase heâs uttered frequently to you in this setting. Usually a wicked smile, and eager hands is your response.Â
Now, you tilt your head, assumingly letting the words translate in your head, and Miguel realizes that itâs really been a while since youâve had your Miguel.Â
When you understand, your hand reaches out to his boxers, but then it stops midway.Â
Miguel nods. âCome on, donât be shy.âÂ
Then your nails scratch at his lower abdomen, beginning to stick under the elastic.Â
âThere you go.â His eyes turn down, watching his crotch, watching your hand disappear beneath the fabric. They flutter shut when you wrap your hand around him.Â
The first touch is always the best for Miguel. He shudders, the feeling translating to a shaky breath.Â
He wants to keep his eyes closed, basking in the feeling of you starting to timidly stroke him, but he feels eyes on him, and thereâs nothing Miguel loves more than your eyes.Â
So he looks down at you, he watches you as your hand trails to the tip of his cock, thumb smearing the precum along the circumference to give you better slip.Â
Your hand glides up and down the expanse of Miguelâs cock, feeling him up, working him slowly.Â
It feels nice. But itâs not nearly enough.Â
Miguel takes the liberty to pull his briefs down his hips, the garment meeting the same fate as his pants.Â
Your hand is still around him, but your grip falters just a bit when his cock springs free.Â
Miguel watches your eyes size him up, taking in the sheer length and girth of him.Â
He can already predict what youâre going to say before you go.Â
âMiguel. Itâs not gonna fit.â
The fear returns to you. It shines in your eyes, flares in your chest, scrapes up your limbs and leaves goosebumps in its trail.Â
His head shakes. âItâll fit, amor. Iâll make sure it fits.âÂ
He wants the words to soothe you. He hopes the words will soothe you.Â
But as he situates himself between your legs, as he arranges your legs to lay over his, as he starts to line himself up, you look even more fearful.Â
Youâre clenched tight, itâs showing in your entire body, so Miguel rubs his thumbs along your hips, and he gives you what he thinks is a comforting look. He hasnât been able to contort his features into that look for a while now, and heâs sure that heâs out of practice, but it works.
Your eyes set on his face, they roam over his features, then they lock onto his eyes like meeting a target.Â
Thereâs an unspoken agreement for him to proceed.Â
So he does.Â
Youâre tight. Miguel knew you would be, but itâs still slightly unexpected. He canât help but hiss as the head starts to breach. Youâre tight.Â
âBaby. Let me in. Breathe.â
You try to do so, but itâs like no matter how many calming breaths you take, you get tighter as Miguel continues to push.Â
It gets to the point where Miguel has no choice but to keep going, hoping that his attempt at soothing words work as he buries himself to the hilt. Miraculously, itâs only then that you relax, the feeling of loosening alerting Miguel of the change.Â
He looks at your expression, satisfied to see your features slack, starting to morph into pleasure once more.Â
He starts to move, slow drags out and even slower pushes back in.Â
Theyâre intended to allow you room to adjust, to cease your whines and provide you comfort, in an alarmingly discomforting situation. Miguel thinks itâs working. You go mostly silent, he wrenches his eyes closed in pleasure, but they peel back open whenever he hears sniffles.Â
Itâs impossible for him to continue holding back when you look at him all pretty like this. Tears streaming down the sides of your face, pooling in your hair, salty liquid sticking your eyelashes together as you blink pathetically up at him.Â
Something tugs at him, telling him to give it his all.Â
So he does. He takes what he wants.Â
He takes what he deserves.Â
His snapping into yours with a force that sends you up the bed each time. He refuses to let you off the hook like this, hands gripping your hips, your soft and supple skin pinched between calloused fingers. You whine, crying out desperately as you push at Miguelâs hands.Â
He doesnât let up, believing that this is the only way to keep you close to him. Even if it hurts.Â
He gives you some reprieve, however, taking away one of his hands to slide up the back of your thigh. He hooks your limb over his hip, encouraging you to dig your heel into the dimples at his lower back. Itâs something the you that belongs to him wouldâve done, and thereâs a split second of fear in his chest as he anxiously waits for you to do it now.Â
Whenever you do, the heel of your foot pressing into the skin right above his ass, he snarls. Itâs unfiltered, an accident, but itâs real and raw.Â
His claws come out and they swipe at your skin accidentally. A gasp from you, then a wince, alerts Miguel of the mishap, and his heart stops. His hips stop. Heâs hurt you. Heâs done the thing he swore he never would.Â
You look at the bleeding cut, then at him, and Miguel doesnât see hurt in your face. Instead, you pull him closer, arching your back, pushing your hips into his and grinding as best as you can against him.Â
You go from stoic and pliant to untamed, your own nails digging into his forearms, your hips lifting off of the bed in what should be an unattractive motion.Â
Yet thereâs nothing that you could do that could be unattractive in Miguelâs eyes.Â
Heâs sworn to love you forever, despite the Universal difference.Â
He licks his lips, and with the motion he feels his fangs. Sharp, pointy, ready to plunge into whatever flesh he can reach. He once again considers it for a second, sinking his teeth into your thigh and rendering your limbs useless. Keeping you stuck to the bed for him to use and abuse however heâd like.Â
But youâve been behaving so well tonight. So he finds no need.Â
Miguel angles his hips differently and you whimper, the sound sweet and small and soft from you. It resembles a âhngâ, tailoring off into a gasp towards the end that has Miguel grunting in response.Â
âActing like youâve never been fucked like this before.â His voice is rough, lacking any romanticism in the tone. He could barely care less.
âMaybe you havenât. Has no man taken you like this? This sweet, supple body, left unused for this long. You know thatâs not your purpose. Youâre wasting your potential, honey. This is what youâre made for.â He punctuates his statement with a piercing thrust, hitting a spot that makes you gasp sharply.Â
âMade to give men like me pleasure. Not many can take what I can give, but you can, right?â You nod eagerly, seemingly attempting to prove your agreement by taking a deep breath and relaxing your cunt around Miguel enough for him to slide just a little deeper.Â
He smirks, hand reaching to your tit where he strokes your nipple with his thumb. âSuch a good girl. Probably make a good little housewife too. Maybe I'll stick around. We could do this more often. Get this tight little body to take me 24/7 until itâs second nature. I can feel her struggling around me. Pussyâs too tight. Hasnât had a big cock to fill it in a while. But thatâs alright, we can train her. Sheâll be as good as new in no time, yeah?âÂ
It seems heâs fucked you too good, beyond any verbal or nonverbal responses from you. Instead, youâre a mess of whines and groans. Your mouth hangs open, drool pooling at the corner just before it fills over and slides down your chin. It doesnât bother you, or you have more important things to focus on, because you let it glide down until it sits in your clavicle.Â
Miguelâs ego inflates as he watches you fall apart like this. Earlier tonight you were the picture of perfection; a neat outfit, a neat home, your emotions and responses polished. But you shed all of that for him. Because of him.Â
In his mind, thereâs no greater honor.Â
Especially whenever he slides his hand down to your clit, flicks your bud one, two, three, times, and then your back arches as your orgasm travels through your body.Â
He sees it start in your loins first. Your pelvis rocks against his ferociously, and then it stops, twitching every so often as your orgasm travels to your limbs then. Your legs lifting, hovering on either side of Miguel and twitching sporadically as he continues to fuck you despite your feeble hands pushing at his shoulders.Â
Heâs bigger than you, stronger than you, smarter than you, and he knows whatâs best. He knows your body better than you do. He knows you can handle another.Â
He knows you need another.Â
So he continues.Â
He hooks your legs over his shoulders, presses his hands into the mattress on either side of your head, and starts fucking you to a second round of completion.Â
Your eyes squeeze shut, your body tensing as you brace yourself through the pain. But Miguel tuts.Â
âNone of that, baby. Look at me. Look at whoâs making you feel this way.â It takes you a second. You huff, your eyebrows push together.Â
Miguel rolls his eyes. He lifts one hand, taps your cheek with enough force to have your eyes snap open, and then he grips your face. âI said: Look at me.âÂ
You do as told now, fear flashing through your eyes, and Miguel grins. He likes the power. He likes this feeling.Â
âThere you go. Thatâs it.â He presses a kiss to your forehead. âNow give me another. Just one more, my love.âÂ
Heâs so deep within you, your arousal leaking out around him, giving him access to the uncharted parts of you by virtue of providing absolutely no resistance. Thereâs possibly the easiest slip and slide happening between the two of you, Miguelâs cock entering and exiting your cunt rapidly, shallow thrusts that reach mere inches away from your cervix each time.Â
Each drive into you prompts a sound, a gasp or moan or just a force of air from your diaphragm. They spur Miguel on, the vigilante adjusting your leg over his shoulder just a little, his chest almost parallel to yours as he forces himself deeper and fucks you harder.Â
âCâmon, baby. When youâre ready, just let go for me.âÂ
Heâs close at this point, too, but he absolutely refuses to cum without you clenching around him.
His wish comes true just a few thrusts later. This orgasm builds longer, your walls starting to flutter a few moments before your moans crescendo.Â
âThere we go. There weâââ His words are cut off short as his orgasm pushes through his body. His balls twitch, his hips stutter, and heâs shooting warm ropes into your fluttering cunt. He can feel his claws come out and pierce the fabric of your mattress, but he doesnât think about how heâll replace it yet. Instead he focuses on this feeling.Â
The euphoria taking over every fiber of his being as his hips automatically piston into you a couple of times as your cunt greedily milks him. Itâs not until he has none left that he pulls out of you, his cock steadily softening, creating a sensitivity that has Miguel wincing.Â
Youâre silent except for a few breaths and Miguel mirrors your state.Â
You both lay there, staring at the ceiling, and Miguel looks over at you after what could be anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes.Â
Youâre already looking at him, smiling softly. He smiles, too, his features getting softer whenever your hand raises and cups his cheek. He places his hand over yours, body relaxing when he feels your wedding ring.Â
âIâm glad you came back to me,â you say, voice earnest and honest.Â
Miguel pulls you into his chest.
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