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loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year ago

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Rigor Mortis (part 6)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 5, Part 7

summary: Everything unravels. You teach Miguel a lesson.

warnings: soooo much smut. mutual masturbation, grinding, slight femdom, Miguel is a submissive switch cuz I said so, m! masturbation. very very 18+ Minors DNI (ageless blogs will be blocked, thanks!)

a/n: yeah...so. ya.

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 8k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

in your half-hearted hubris,

Miguel is not a jealous man. Jealousy implies something he thought was shed long ago: a second skin of something green-eyed and crooked.

One minute, he's watching you kiss someone else. And when you sigh into it; imperceptibly, but he notices because he always sees these things about you; he's biting the inside of his cheek and drawing blood. The guy you danced with, and now your lips are on his. Is… Is that your type? Jun is slender and charming; a pretty boy, through and through . There's a hand on your thigh, he notices, milky white and willowy. It has Miguel looking at his own, rough and tan, the ghost of soft skin and pillowy thighs on his fingertips. The illicit foray of one night, one night with you , and he's second guessing himself.

Insecure.

His hands are rough and calloused. He picks at hangnails, the skin is raw from rubber gloves and mystery chemicals, and knuckles creaky because he cracks them too often. Is that what you like? The kind of thing you touch yourself to; his hands, pawing at flesh. Jun cups your chin, slender fingers pulling you closer, and your own come up to wrap around them. You seem desperate for it, panting and pretty lashes fluttering when you separate.

And you look at Jun like… like he wants you to look at him.

There's blood in his mouth when you finally do. He looks away, quick and furtive, like you've caught him doing something wrong. It's not right or wrong, he supposes, just tripping over a muddle of thoughts – still stuck on the image of your hand on Jun's.

He was a late bloomer, awkwardly proportioned and too tall for his limbs. Clumsy, if you can believe it. He's always been a bit of a bull in a China shop; bulldozing and brutish and still growing into a body that pools at his ankles and is tight around his wrists. Like an ill-fitting suit; the kind he wore to Fernanda's quince, skirting the rental hall with a bottle of j2o. In and out of conversations, tripping and stuttering over words in stiff dress shoes and a waistcoat . Gabi took a lot of photos: peace signs and pointer finger looped into coat pockets.

Point is; he's not felt this way in years . Tongue-tied, hot and cold, heart-pounding. Jun decidedly isn't; able to talk to you like a normal person, making you smile and laugh. Curling fingers into the crest of a wide palm, he digs his nails into the flesh: producing a sting that makes it crystal clear. Oh. Oh.

Fuck.

One minute, he's nursing a warm beer and trying not to take a chunk out the inside of his mouth. The next, he's on the floor of Lyla's living room, blinking up at bright lights.

There's soft hands all over him. Holding his own, cupping his cheek, moving his head this way and that as he tries to focus. He's looking at your pretty lips, pert and pressed into the lean line of a frown. There are… people talking over the other; strained and hushed in a quiet corner.

He recognises Lyla's voice, distinctive despite the ringing in his ears.

"A-All over a drink…. pushing past 'em, Jess…. he threw the first punch…"

~~~

The drive home is terse, air thick with something. Stewing, you've got your arms crossed and head turned to the windows. You're watching the streaky lights of the city zip past, lips pursed. Head on the glass, you're making a point not to turn back or utter a word to Miguel.

"You picked a fight." You swipe a finger on the condensation, finally ready to talk.

He shrugs limply. A beat passes.

"....this is the part where you explain what happened, Miguel."

"I picked a fight."

"...that's it?" Your brows shoot up. "You just… there was no build up? Why? "

"Wanted to give 'em something to bond over in the morning." He deadpans, glancing over to the passenger seat. "Matching black eyes."

You shake your head slightly. "Don't believe you."

You see something flash in his gaze, and then it's gone. He smooths over features, and that Miguel is back: lifeless and blank. Steadfast, he doesn't turn to look at you.

"Okay." He says simply.

"All that Ophelia shit from a couple of weeks ago, and you still won't –" It's under your breath as you clamp down anger. If Miguel hears, he doesn't indicate. "I just want to understand."

He purses his lips. "Nothing to understand. I'm an insecure piece of shit, and I picked a fight. I ruined Jess' birthday, and fucked it up for everyone else. I know. Can we… Can we speed this bit up? I'm exhausted. "

"No-one… I didn't say that." Your voice is hoarse. He's being mean. He's never been all that nice; sarcastic and smug, for sure, but never cruel. It feels spiteful. You're blinking away a hot tear before you can stop it. And then they become angry tears, ones that sting your cheeks on the way down.

You're not good with fights. Never have been. And it's not even the confrontation that scares you, it's the apathy. Sifting through your guts and begging someone to care, when they don't. It's like screaming at a brick wall and expecting the mortar to shift; a pointless exercise in delusion. You'd grown sick of it with Jamie; the hand-waving and the what do you want me to do about it of it all. It's the one thing you've grown to like about Miguel, about all your little fights. He's rarely the bigger person, petty, and able to get down in the shit and stink with you; because, on some small level at least, he gives a fuck. He cares .

You're embarrassed that you even thought he would be any different. Disappointed, but not with him: with yourself for getting caught up in all of this.

You're sniffling, wiping up and flattening out of sheer spite; refusing to let him see how a stupid thing like this affects you. The tears well up in your eyes, hot and blurry and you're focusing on holding yourself together by the seams before you get home.

You don't notice him pull into a side road and park the car. It rolls to a stop, and he's reaching over to the backseat; and pulling out a box of tissues. The box is floral and tissues scented; rosy and sweet in a way you wouldn't expect from him.

When he nudges you with the box, apologetic, you're still not looking at him; not even flicking over to give him a dirty look.

"Chula. " It rolls off his tongue so softly, but you jut your chin in the air. "Please. I'm sorry."

You purse your lips.

"I'm a dick."

"Yep." You manage.

"I picked a fight. I'm an insecure piece of shit–"

"No, no." You're turning back, quickly. "Stop saying that. Why are you saying that?"

He shrugs again, and you flop into your seat. You notice, he's gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are white.

"Relax , Miguel." You wrap a hand around his, and watch him visibly melt. His gaze softens. "M'not trying to push, I'm sorry."

You take his hand off the wheel, inspecting the purple and blue that spreads across taught skin. His palm is rough, knuckles bony and bruised.

"When we get home–" Home. You sigh, bringing it up to the little car lights. "I've got a first aid kit, somewhere. We need to clean this up, or it might get infec–"

Looking up, you catch Miguel staring , stars in his eyes, and it… it knocks the breath out of your lungs. All of a sudden, you're flustered and letting go of his hand in a hurry.

All he does is nod, starting the car. He runs a hand through his hair, pulling away with a palm on the flat of the wheel. In the light of street lamps, shadow cutting his cheekbones just so. He's beat up, he's tired, but even then; Miguel is so, so pretty.

~~~

You end up in the bathroom, first aid kit splayed on the countertop. He insists on standing, despite a slight limp he tries to downplay, and so you're sitting on the faux marble with Miguel between your legs. Your dress rides up but you're too tired to care, ripping open gauze and tapping disinfectant on a little pad. At least he has the decency to be still and quiet, with his palms on the counter top and kissing bare thigh.

Miguel is tall, still having to bend over when you pat the peak of a split lip; hand on his chin ever so gently.

"Where'd you get all of this from?" He asks because your first aid kit is comprehensive : micropore, gauze and antiseptic with a name that sounds like sleeping pills.

You're swatting him gently, trying to keep his jaw still. "My ex was a med student."

He smothers a smile, like he's trying not to laugh.

"...what?"

"...is he the one that couldn't make you cum?"

You stop tending to his wounds, hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. Never have I ever faked an orgasm – the words start ringing in your head. You're not a blushing virgin, but his crass word choice makes you flush.

"None of your business."

He smirks. "So that's a yes. "

"I faked it once or twice , sue me. But… I mean, the sex wasn't bad. It was even good, sometimes."

"Sure." He cringes, and you bat his shoulder.

"Don't want to hear it."

He hums, pressing a little closer to your front.

"What was he like, then?" He seems nonchalant; but his tone is unusual, sending shivers down your spine.

"He was… nice."

"Nice?"

"Yep." Four years, and that's the best you can come up with. It's all you can verbalise, at least. How does one describe the feeling of getting hit by a metaphorical train? One that leaves you on the tracks, thinking of picnic dates and IOUs and diner coffee? They'd describe it as poorly as you do, most likely. A moment passes. "I loved him, I think."

You don't know why you said that, but the melancholy of the night starts to sink in.

"Then why'd you break up?"

You shrug. "Wasn't enough."

He looks surprised, eyebrows drawn up momentarily, as if that's the last thing he thought you'd say. You strike him as a romantic; ditzy and dopey when you have feelings for someone, a love conquers all type of person.

The mood sours, air heaving in that little bathroom. You finish up in silence, applying strips to a gash above his brow. It takes some time for him to speak, as if he's been building up the confidence.

"Is that your type?" He asks, finally puncturing that pressure.

You shake your head, a little confused.

"Nice? Like that guy you were talking to."

"...Jun?" You hesitate, sensing something else behind his words. "I mean… I just wanted to get laid."

He doesn't really react, thumb grazing the silk of your slip dress. The skin his hand brushes past feels a little hotter.

"He's pretty, though." You're careful not to make eye contact, getting to work cleaning the cuts on his knuckles. You smile to yourself. "And yeah, he's nice. More than nice, actually. "

Jun works with computers. Jun is good with his hands. And you really were going to fuck him. Until… until…

…until Miguel got into a fight. After watching you kiss someone else. The gears turn in your head, creaky and lumbering because you haven't had to navigate a shitty pseudo-situationship in forever. You're wrapping up his hand with gauze, mouth moving quicker than you can think.

"Are you jealous?"

He splutters, flashing pearly whites in indignation.

"No… No . You can fuck whoever you want." He says it too quickly. "I don't care."

He looks a mess; a gash above one eye, a nasty cut glancing the side of his lip, and knuckles bruised. Suspecting more hiding beneath his shirt, you look at him, gaze heavy. You're worried, even when you shouldn't be, even when he doesn't deserve it.

"Oh my God." You're connecting dots, and your stomach churns with the realisation. "What the fuck ?"

" M-not -"

"Just because you don't want to fuck me– "

"I never said I didn't want to–"

"You didn't have to, you just refused to acknowledge how we almost did for two weeks. "

"Neither did you!"

"I wanted to… after. And you said we couldn't, because I had a lecture."

"You did have a lecture, and you were high! That doesn't mean anything… I need you to mean it when you say it."

"So you resort to sabotage? I was gonna get laid, you fucking asshole."

"You kissed him."

" So? "

"You didn't kiss me."

That one takes the wind out of your sails, and you're stammering with the amount of brainpower it takes to wrap your head around it. You slip off the counter, putting some space between you both.

"...I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm not saying you can't kiss him… o-or you're not allowed to, or some crap. I just don't get it. I don't understand."

He's holding your hands in his,

"You just met the guy, and you kiss him on a stupid dare–"

" –he kissed me." You correct him, voice hoarse.

"He kissed you . Cool. Whatever. You kissed him back. But when I tried to kiss you, after… " He trails off.

"I dodged one kiss . Maybe I wasn't feeling it."

"And that's fine. I respect that, and I respect you. But it wasn't just one kiss. It's all the time , around here. I say something, then you say something, and then… we have a moment. Time just stops. Can't you feel it? I-I feel like I'm going crazy."

You keep quiet, only the sound of your heart racing to punctuate thoughts.

"Miguel… "

He gets even closer, pressing you against the counter, his bandaged hand migrating to your waist, and then the small of your back. Your knees are weak as you swallow roughly, with Miguel; strong, annoyingly handsome, perceptive Miguel; resting his forehead on yours. You come together, intimate, even allowing your eyes to flutter shut, waiting for the press of lips on yours.

It never comes. Wrenching yourself away at the last minute, you're standing in the doorway; arms folded, because you don't know what to do with your limbs anymore.

He doesn't look disappointed. Just deflated.

"Do you want to fuck me?" He asks. Yes , you answer, but he can't hear it.

"Do you want to kiss me?" Do you want me? Do you want me in a way no-one else can have me?

This feels different. Not as simple as a yes or no.

Your face must say it all for you, because he sighs. "I just want to know why."

His behaviour has been erratic, to say the least. You've spent a good month and a half terrorising each other, before coming to an uneasy truce – and he fucked it up. All that talk like he knows you, that he sees you, and it all feels for naught.

"After all the shit you've pulled… what gives you the right? I was so worried about you–" Your voice is barely above a whisper. " Fuck this. M'going to bed."

Slipping into the gloom of the hallway, and then into your room, leaving Miguel there.

It's different, why can't he see that it's different? A one night stand, with Jun, with someone else; kissing a guy in a dare doesn't have consequences. You get off, you go home. Simple, clinical, no need for niceties. With Miguel, as you've come to realise, there are other things to navigate. Even when high, you knew ; with someone like him, it's too intimate – the possible consequences too dire. He's your roommate, for God's sake.

You can hear him now, turning off the bathrooms lights and padding into his room. For once, there's nothing to be heard from behind the wall. The dim light spills in, warm yellow pooling around the door. Your window is open, moonlight and the city below to keep you company.

And you want him to stew in that room, to punish him for all the shit he's put you through in the past week; hell, the past few months you've been here. But you can't. If you're sick of the mind games, you can't keep this game of chicken going – you're both careening towards the edge faster than you can say the words: Yes, Miguel; I want to sit on your face. If you could get rid of the attitude, that would be great, too .

So you're knocking on his door, still in your dress, tugging down its hem when he opens. He's in that shirt and slacks, bloodied front and all.

Deep breath. You straighten your back, and make sure you're heard, loud and clear.

"I don't like it when you bring over girls to fuck them in your room. The walls are too thin, and I can't sleep because I hear everything. Everything, Miggy."

He's stony-faced, unreadable as ever. Still, you continue.

"I don't like it when you look at me… like that, and then pretend it never happened. You're inconsistent, sarcastic, you freak out whenever there's a sock out of place and it drives me fucking crazy–"

" I don't –"

"I'm not finished. You're a prick. You don't tell people you love them enough, when… when you do. You so clearly do. Lyla was worried when you took so long to get to Jess' – just give her a call, sometimes. Let people know what's going on."

His face is stuck somewhere between abject horror and plain old shock. For Miguel, that means his eyebrow is raised a half-inch higher than usual.

"...you finished?" He strains.

"One more.. ." Another breath. "...your poker face needs work. Because you look like you need a shit half the time."

His jaw shifts. You maintain eye contact; despite everything screaming that you should run with your tail between your legs.

"I fucking hate you , Miguel."

"I know." He softens, running a hand through his hair. Leaning against the frame, he steps a little closer; and imperceptibly, you're both pulled by the gravity of the other. All of a sudden, your head is on his chest, blood-spattered cotton that smells like him, arms wrapped around his middle. Hesitant, he pulls you even closer, slotting into the crook of your neck as best he can.

Wordlessly, you separate. You knit your eyebrows together, looking up at him. With your hand on his cheek, he leans into your touch. You graze a thumb on his lips, eyes fluttering at the broken skin: plump and messy and pretty.

"Sit down." You say it so softly, he convinces himself he didn't hear it.

You go again. "Sit down."

Your tone makes him flush, and then he's sitting on the edge of the bed. He leans back, you step forward; legs brushing his knees splayed atop the sheets.

"Do you want me?"

He's nodding before he even hears the end of the sentence, eyes locked onto yours.

You shrug.

"Prove it. "

And it goes straight to his cock: the way you say it, blasé and casual, like you haven't put words to the way he's been feeling for weeks. Usually, he'd start to spiral, endlessly loop around what you mean. Want , strong and heady; and to him that means a hungering that leaves his throat dry and innards bare.

Do you want me? Do you want me in a way no-one else can have me?

And yet, he doesn't quite know the answer. Instead, he shows you; hoping and praying he hasn't read this wrong.

Barely breathing, studying your every move, he takes your other hand. You hinge slightly at the hip, coming closer, eyes still locked onto his and he places your little palm onto his crotch. It spans his whole length, quickly hardening. When you don't react, he panics, trying to move your hand away…

…and then you squeeze .

Miguel keens, bucking into the pressure you apply with the heel of your palm. He starts a slow roll of hips, other hand wrapped around yours on his cheek; melting into it, in a way that brings heat to that sweet spot between your legs. And then he stutters to a stop, lips parted and panting.

"Why'd you stop?"

"G-Got carried away. Sorry ."

His brows are knitted, shoulders hunched, and when you slide your hand down to the corded muscles of his neck, he tenses. He always seems so stressed, but you've never seen him like this: desperate and falling apart at the seams.

"You're okay, Miguel. Relax. "

You shift your wrist, rolling around that growing tent in your palm. He hisses, palms flat by his side and head thrown back. With a little smile, you watch his shoulders melt, satisfied.

"Does it feel good?"

"Y-Yes." He groans. Despite your quickening pace, he seems to clamp down instinct; biting his cheek to muffle wanton moans.

"How about you get more comfortable for me?"

At first he doesn't understand, grumbling when you take your hand away from his clothed cock. Pulling him upwards, you make a start with his buttons, helping slide the fabric off of his shoulders. He slips his slacks off, and then he's left in black boxers; it's band hanging dangerously low.

They're tented, sporting a wet patch of precum around the fat tip of his dick. And he is large, its outline clear under the thin fabric.

You wrap a hand around his waist, other hand tracing up to his chest.

"What about you, chula? "

You look up. Miguel looks down at you, eyes low, large hand splayed between your shoulder blades.

"You don't like what I'm wearing?" Doe eyed, you don't really expect him to take you seriously.

"N-No, no. " He's stuttering, now. "You look beautiful. Always do. I just… I want to see more ."

You click your tongue with faux disapproval. "Don't be selfish, baby. You wanted my attention, right?"

He nods, with the self-awareness to be hesitant at your tone.

"Then," You start, slipping a hand into his boxers. You wrap a dainty hand around his length; thick and slanted and weeping at the tip. "Learn to be grateful."

"Ayy-" He wraps around you, head bowed to dip into your shoulder.

You pump his cock, other hand around his neck; eyes sparkling as you force him to look to his side, at you.

"F-Fuck–" He's breathing heavily, mouth open into a pretty little O , and you clamp a hand down to his jaw.

"What do you want?"

"R-Rapido, mas rapido por favor -"

[Faster, faster, please-]

Surprisingly vocal, he loses it as you press your thumb onto his slit; flushed and pouring with precum. You rub his wetness along the length of his shaft, squeezing and turning your wrist as you get to his tip. He likes that; hips bucking to fuck into the ring you make with your hand.

You want to savour this moment: Miguel stripped down to his boxers, beautifully tanned skin pressed up against yours. And of course, that look on his face; a lusty haze, even stronger than the one you were under when high, all those nights ago.

His lashes flutter, and you watch as his core tenses; watching and waiting for just the right moment to… stop.

You pull away, and he chases it, bucking into thin air. You're pushing him back onto the bed, with a hand to his chest. Eyes blown , he leans back onto his forearms; unable to tear himself away. There's a certain glow about you, a glint in your eye, one that takes his breath away. Something smug , a little smile as you drag a black thong down your pretty thighs. It's long forgotten when you chuck it onto the bed; Miguel still can't get over the sight of legs and a flash of your cunt, committing it to memory.

Sidling up to his chest, you kick a leg over and seat yourself onto his lap. Flush against the fabric, you settle onto your knees. The look in Miguel's eyes almost bowls you over; stunning and windswept, as he runs a hand over your thigh. Eyes wide at the way the fabric pools around your body: the swell of tits cupped by silk, how good it looks against your skin.

He's staring at where you meet, that spot between your thighs when it happens; when you guide his hand to the apex of your pussy. His thumb slots against your clit like it belongs there, rough pads applying just the right amount of pressure.

"Oh f-fuuuck," You sigh into it, pressing your tits to his chest in a way that makes him hump into the pocket left by your body and the smooth fabric of your dress.

Even in his haze, Miguel is hyperfocused on your pleasure, obsessed with the noises he can pull from you. With a big hand on your waist, he pulls you closer to slot you against his front. It's your turn to moan, the prettiest thing he thinks he's ever heard, slipping his cock between your lower lips with a swirling intensity.

You're drunk with the pleasure, hands on his shoulders to angle him towards your clit. He thinks you look like an angel, head tilted back to expose the expanse of your neck. Bringing his teeth to that slight vein, he's a killer; sucking rough hickeys to the skin.

"M'close, fuck –"

"Damelo, hermosa, " He places two palms at the globes of your ass, squeezing and pressing into you even closer.

[Give it to me, beautiful.]

"Miguel…shit–b-baby, think I'm–"

You cum, gushing and clamping down around nothing. Miguel is more interested in the way you transform ; fine lines and deep furrows of your face softening, the pure bliss written into the gentle arch of your body. He did that. It makes his chest warm, it makes his cock swell; and with the feeling of slipping through your pretty folds, he gets so, so close to that biting edge.

You stop, slipping off of his lap and he whines at the loss of you. Tugging down your dress, you make your way out of the room and he's reeling , clutching at your arm so you don't leave.

"Chula ," He's babbling, tucked back into his boxers, but on his knees for you. "I'm sorry, please. Do you want me to beg? Because I will , baby, I w–"

Helping him up, you give him a little smile that he's too pussy-drunk to realise its true nature. Dangerous, you cup his face with both hands, brows pressed together and large, sparkling eyes. Not quite sympathy, but it's enough to make him think you'll wrap a hand around his cock out of pity, press those pretty tits against him and–

On your tiptoes, you give him a chaste kiss between his brows. You flash him a stunning smile, bottom lip hooked under your teeth.

"Goodnight , Miguel."

And then you're out the door, down the little hallway and into your bedroom. Miguel runs a shaky hand through his hair, unsure whether to laugh or cry. And he knows, still rock hard, body burning with the memory of you: he's fucked.

~~~

When morning comes, Miguel wrenches open his eyes, bloodshot and sore. He feels like shit , barely able to sit up without feeling like his chest will collapse.

It feels like he was ran over in a headfirst collision; and he was, essentially, wincing at the memory of that fight. He can feel strike one and two; between his ribs, to the side of his navel; but the real knockout punch was you – a deadly, calculated assault that he almost hates you for.

Almost.

He came harder than he has in months last night; bent over his cock, pumping shakily. It had only taken a couple of rough tugs until he spilled all over himself; embarrassingly quick. He lasted longer the second time, unable to help himself.

In his defence, the black thong you had slipped off was right there ; rumpled amongst the sheets. He had pressed it to his nose and then wrapped them around his shaft; eyes closed as he imagined being buried in your plush pussy. All his fantasies; quickies in the shower spent jerking off to the thought of you, where he'd hold onto the feeling of brushing past you in the kitchen, or little touches on the couch. You've surpassed them, well and truly.

Now, he stumbles into the shower, stripping on the tiles. Inspecting himself in the mirror, he pokes at flesh; purple bruises stretching over brown and tan muscle. Turning around and craning his head, he follows them all the way to his back and then… oh. He can see them: scratchy-sharp lines, spanning the width of his shoulder blades. You did that, he thinks.

Fuck . He's hard again, sighing heavily as he clambers into the shower. It sputters to life, ice cold, but he grits his teeth and takes it , trying to free his mind of cotton and cobwebs. As the water warms up, he presses both hands flat on the tile, head down and eyes closed. The water washes over him, down his back, and like a flash of lightning he's imagining you pressed up against him, bent in half over his cock. He'd press a thumb to your clit, slamming into your ass; fucking you hard, like you deserve. You'd like that , he thinks, from what he's heard of you in your room, the filth that spills from your mouth and to his side of the wall.

"Miguel?" It's a little muffled over the shower, but you get closer to the door.

"Yes?" He shouts over the rush of water. He shouldn't . He really shouldn't.

"You've got a call!"

He hums. With the way you say his name he caves, making a tight ring around his length.

"It's Lyla, and-" Something clatters. " Fuck , sorry."

Your voice is breathy, little groans as you pick up whatever's dropped to the floor. Miguel feels like a perv, turning the water pressure down to listen to your voice properly. All the while, he keeps a steady pace on his cock.

"Should I just let it ring? Keep it going?"

Keep going is what he hears, and then he speeds up, wondering what it would be like to have your thighs shake underneath him. What would it would it take to have you babbling and begging for more? How would he break you? Maybe on his cock, where he'd watch you squirm as you take his length.

"Miguel?"

Or maybe you'd be on your knees, choking around him and licking up his cum. Or, God , thighs wrapped around his head, riding out your high with his mouth sealed on your clit, crying for him slow down, for him to-

H-Harder, please–

That's how you would ask him, clawing at his back, and he'd capture those pleas in a searing kiss.

"–Miguel!"

He releases, sudden and intense, spilling white ropes onto the tiles. He fucks his fist through it, overstimulated from the way you say his name. It feels like the only way it should be said; spilling from your mouth, haphazard and desperate. Like honey, like treacle; sweet things he didn't know he had the capacity for. He lets that feeling wash over him, panting, bringing his forehead to rest on cool tile.

"Just take a message," He strains, panting as you say something in response. He doesn't quite catch it, of course, too busy reeling from the aftershock.

The shower croaks and gurgles, spluttering to a stop. He listens as your footsteps recede beyond the door, moving away.

Shit. It's going to be a long day.

~~~

You sleep like a baby. Lulled into blissful sleep, after practically floating into bed. That orgasm does wonders; and you sleep better than you have in months. You dream of cotton candy clouds, flowing green grass, and tanned, muscled men on their knees; in the kind of sleep that wraps around you like a blanket.

Surprisingly fresh in the morning, you wake up before Miguel does. You're milling about the hallway when he barrels into the bathroom, and on the couch when he leaves.

"Mig?" You poke your head towards the door, and he almost jumps half a foot into the air.

Eyes wide, and he can barely manage a weak smile.

"Lyla called."

"Yeah, you…" He sighs, clutching the towel slung around his waist a little tighter. "You mentioned it."

In the light of the morning, you're able to assess him a lot better. To put it plainly, he looks rough ; blinking at you oddly, shifting when you come closer. You don't touch him, Miguel seems much too antsy for that, but you get closer to inspect the bruises that bloom across his side. It looks even worse than yesterday, purple and blue across taut muscle. You reach for it and he flinches, so you pull away.

"...you okay?"

" Yep. " He grits it through a plasticky smile; and the fact that it reaches his eyes is a red flag in of itself for the usual grump.

The side-eye you respond with isn't quite enough to chip at it, so he continues.

"M'just fine."

" O–kay . Lyla said something about a debrief , earlier."

"At the usual place?"

"...uhhh. She said at HQ? In about an hour."

"Okay… okay. Nonono, that's fine… okay." He's muttering to himself and about to turn around when something catches his eye. Your lips; pretty gloss and freshly done. In fact, you're fully dressed to go out; in a display that has him confused.

You answer the question he posits with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"She invited me, Mig."

His eyebrows shoot up. "Of c.. of course she did."

Distracted and haphazard, Miguel gets dressed; squeezing into the car with a flask of coffee to-go. It scares you; the way he barely flinches while taking sips of the bitter liquid you know must be piping hot. He's acting weird, even weirder than usual; but you let it wash over you and move on.

Eventually, you pull up to HQ ; a shitty dive bar that is inexplicably serving breakfast and other miscellaneous items at 12pm. At least, that's what it looks like, arriving to see one overcrowded table and a sea of pancakes and coffee. Jess sports a croissant and orange juice, whilst Peter scoffs down a burger almost as big as his face.

"Miguel!" He says it with a mouthful of pickles, beef and patty, slapping the man in question heartily on the back.

He winces, batting Peter away before sliding into the seat next to you. For barely a second, your legs brush together and he's shifting away. Okay. That's… odd.

You're sifting through menus when you glance over to the counter and you see her : a pretty woman of about 25, tucking red hair away behind her ear. Your heart stops, and then you're tapping Miguel.

" Look, " You hiss quietly, nodding towards the counter. " Isn't that…? "

June McGinnity, the premier main character in the hit tv soap, And Everyday Before The Last; The Final Season. It's the very same show you've been bingeing for the past 6 months. 18 seasons, 3 spinoffs, and a revival currently in the works; you're obsessed with the show that's gotten you through your last breakup – and the one before that, and a couple of rocky moments with your parents.

She's been a staple for the last couple of seasons, quickly skyrocketing to popularity in her minor role, and now , in The Final Season, she's got her well-deserved spot as a season regular. June is tenacious, smart, absolutely hilarious, and–

" –she's coming over here . Shit, Miggy, she's coming over," You whisper to him and for the first time this morning; he smiles, wide and genuine. It takes you back; not just because he looks so pretty when he smiles, but because you have no idea what's so funny.

June slips into the seat besides Peter, and your eyes almost fall out of their sockets. She gives him a kiss on the cheek , as Peter brushes away blunt bangs. Frantic, you turn to Miguel, who's trying not to piss himself laughing.

He's borderline howling, and you put a hand around his arm to get him to keep quiet – to stop embarrassing you in front of June – but he's too busy wiping away tears.

Peter turns to the scene, clearly confused. He says something to June, and then he's turning to you, saying your name.

"Hey, I don't think I've introduced you to– Miguel, please shut the fuck up– this is–"

"MJ." She smiles, brilliant and sparkling, with her hand outstretched and you think you might pass out.

"I'm–" You're stumbling over your words, grasping her hand before you can overthink it. Maybe it comes off as overzealous, but you're desperately trying to shut out Miguel's laughing. "I'm a massive fan, you're so incredibly talented ; as June – I always cry at that one scene when you meet your long-lost sister... a-and when you find out that Jackie is actually your Mom, I swear, I get chills–"

The man besides you splutters, hunched over and gripping onto the table for support. It's getting egregious, now, and you make it known as best you can with a dirty look.

"I'm, oh fuck, no… I'm done, I promise." He clamps down a smile, hands up in surrender.

"Was that… too much?" You gain some semblance of perspective, and then you're falling over yourself to apologise. " Shit , I'm really, really sor–"

" – No, no. You're good, it's nice to get recognised for that show! Most of the demographic is old people and pensioners, honestly. Not a lot of IRL interaction with fans, if you know what I mean." She flashes you that smile, again, and you melt. She turns to the man beside you. "Don't be a dick, Miguel."

"Yeah, Miguel." Peter continues to inhale what you think is his second burger, wagging a sauce covered finger. "What she said."

Miguel rolls his eyes so hard you think they might rattle about in his skull, and you give him a rough shove for good measure. Down the other side of the table, you spot Lyla; downing a brightly coloured drink and massaging her temples.

"Shit , Lyla. You want to slow it down?" Jess says, and then her eyes are flicking over to yours. She does a double take, giving you a wide smile. " Hey , y'all! When did you get here?"

"Not long!" You call back, and she gives you a thumbs up in response. Lyla coughs beside her, sporting a nasty grimace; and then she's up and looking around the table, as if taking a headcount. At least, you think she does, as it's hard to see her eyes between pink tinted shades. They slip down her nose and she brings a fork to the empty glass; silencing the rabble.

"M-Morning…" She stills, hand on her chest like she's got heartburn; throat bobbing as she gags slightly. "Morning, everyone. First off, hope you all feel as shitty as I do."

And then there's cheers and good-natured elbowing, especially towards Ben and Miguel. Apparently , if you're to believe the whispers and rumour mill; Ben took to bar-hopping across town, ending the night without a shoe and someone else's shirt. He gives a rueful smile, holding up a mug to scattered laughter. And Miguel… well, he's Miguel , sitting back in his seat with folded arms.

"Second," She pauses, for dramatic effect. "Someone's volunteered to pay for the next round of food to apologise for last night… everyone say Thank you, Miguel."

She starts a limp round of applause with a flourish, and sits down. There's only about a dozen people there: most you recognise, and some you don't. There was no attempt to explain what exactly a debrief was; so you're left disorientated in the mash of voices. Miguel picks at waffles besides you, in his own world. Without a word, you get up, making your way towards neon bathroom signs in the corner.

It's some peace and quiet, a moment to think as you look at your reflection in the mirror. You look lighter , as if a weight was lifted off of your shoulders last night. Your skin looks a little brighter, eyes sharper and even your hair falls differently, today. You feel good, and it seems to translate to the person looking back it you. Wow. You're practically–

" -glowing. Shit , you look good." Lyla calls out from behind you, entering the little bathroom with Jess.

Jess gives you a warm hug, and Lyla follows before pushing up heart shaped glasses.

" Damn, girl." Jess gives a low whistle, hands on her shoulders to turn you this way and that.

They make you giggle, with a warmth that blooms at your chest.

"Was it that cute guy from last night?"

Lyla interrupts. " Jun! Did he send you a little something after you got home?"

"Did you ditch Miguel to get some?"

"God, did you invite Jun over? "

Jess gasps, before quickly adding. "No judgement, of course. Once upon a time, we probably would've done the same thing."

It's a back and forth that gives you whiplash, dodging fastballs that get hit into the tiles. Not trusting yourself to speak, you shake your head, demurely.

"...are you telling us you didn't have sex last night? Because that glow says something different."

You clamp down any words that might give you away, but Jess' sharp eyes latch onto the cracks: a little smile tugging at the sides of your lips.

"So not Jun … but someone else? Last night…? "

The penny drops and then she's grabbing at you and Lyla. When realisation hits the mousy brunette to your side, she's flinging off pink shades to look you in the eye.

"You fucked Miguel?"

"No!" You're hissing, trying to calm raucous behaviour. "Technically, not… yet."

"Not yet? " Lyla repeats, astonished. "I mean, I thought you two were already–"

"It makes sense! Could've sworn I saw his knees shakin' today…"

"Okay, okay…" You're laughing, finally understanding the magnitude of the grenade you've just lobbed at them. "It wasn't like that . It's not a thing."

"...do you want it to be a thing?"

You tilt your head, pretending to think on it. Yes , you want to ride him till something breaks; but Miguel is a walking red flag. You know, deep down, nothing good can come out of it.

"Don't… don't say it like that."

"Look, Ly, she wants it to be a thing. "

" Definitely. It's basically already a thing ." Lyla concurs, nodding firmly.

"Fuck you guys." It's not said with spite, leaving your mouth with a smile.

"Oh, no. You like 'em tall, and tan, and a little grumpy. You mean: Fuck me, Miguel. "

You're swatting her away, whilst Jess is doubled over in laughter; hand on the ceramic to steady herself. They're good fun; raucous and boisterous and making you feel welcome, when you know they really don't have to.

The laughter dies down, and they're leading you out of the bathroom to their side of the table, chattering away. Jess digs into another pancake, rock hard, and all of a sudden you're telling her about the waffles at Pam's Diner, and all the interesting characters you've met there. Lyla nurses another sweet cocktail, chattering on about a pre-game she's got in a couple of hours; and then you're exchanging stories about hangovers and missed lectures.

From their conversation, you slowly learn what a debrief entails: the remnants of a tradition they'd started when 19 and spotty. All of them, friends of friends, roommates, classmates; growing to know each other in the dinky bar across the street from their dorms. Tending to hangovers in the morning from an all night rager, or pre-gaming before the biggest events of the year: it's something that trickled down to every so often later in their adulthoods. It's something else Miguel started, surprising you yet again.

So absorbed in their heart-to-heart, time flies by; and late breakfast turns to brunch. You're exchanging phone numbers, and left smiling from lots of little tete-a-tetes, before Miguel tries to drag you to the car. One last goodbye had turned into two, which had turned into four; and then he's grumbling alone in the car for a dire couple of minutes.

You open the door, glowing. Your mood dampens immediately as you sit down; soured by Miguel's own swirling dark cloud. He seems worse than before, somehow. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, the air thick with something. Where you would've bit your tongue before, pushed down difficult-to-say words, now, you find a surge of confidence.

"Miguel," You start, and he turns; key still in the ignition.

You look around at the parking lot, mostly empty, except for you two.

"Can we talk?"

"...sure." His tone seems anything but sure; which feels like a first, for him.

"About last night."

"Oh." And then he's gone again, eyes flicking around the cab of the car. All of a sudden the mirror needs fixing, and he's fiddling with some buttons on the dash.

You place a hand on his to still him. He doesn't flinch.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He shrugs. You don't believe him.

"Did you like it?"

He pauses, chewing his lip. " Yes ."

You believe that .

"Good." You hum. "I liked it. But you made me feel like shit, too."

He softens. "I did?"

"You did. You only wanted me after you saw me with someone else. After I kissed Jun."

You wait to see if he admits it, and his hand curls into a fist, tight. His grip relaxes, and then his voice comes out in a whisper.

"Y-Yeah… I was jealous." He seems remorseful, at least.

You sigh. "I don't want a relationship with you, or anything. But it made me feel like… an object. A conquest, another notch on your belt because you only want me when you can't have me. It made me feel shitty, Miguel."

"I fucked up," He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Wasn't really thinking, chula. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Miguel. I like fucking around with you." You say it with a small smile. "I want… more ."

"Me too." He's smiling back, shy, brushing against you with fingers stretched out.

"That's fine, more than fine. We can do this because I make you feel good, and you make me feel good, and somehow… this works . But we need to keep this," Gently, you push away his hand, gesturing between you both. "...and us separate. My heart can't take the possibility of this blowing up. And… And it's probably going to be me; 'cuz I seem to like getting my heart broken."

You give a watery laugh, but he doesn't laugh with you; instead, boring into your soul with red-brown eyes.

"If we're going to do this, it means I can't kiss you, properly ; it means no cuddling after sex, or staying the night in your bed." It's why you couldn't kiss him before, and you hope he understands. "You can say no… you probably should say no. But that's what I want, right now. And those are my terms."

It takes a moment before he respond, mulling it over, and you barely breath in the interim.

"I want you ." He nods slowly, and then more firmly as he turns the key in the ignition. The engine rumbles to life, as Miguel turns to you with as best a smile he can manage. Lip cut, hair smattered across his forehead, and thick brows softening; he says, firmly, " Yeah, I'd like that."

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns

@ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @aiyaaayei @hyp-oh-critical @tea-earl-grey-thot @sunset-euphoria @moonsio @akiras-key@szaplsdropthealbum@levanneisdumb @naiya-patel17 @Serostapesweat @strawberrymiguel @yumeeesss @errorundyne-exe @spear-bitch @redsoleily @marsissoswag @slezhara @ye4gerzz @adlct515 @nanam1 @indigocookie @cincocosas-blog @starguiders @path0logicalpeoplepleaser@funkyfishy@whoreloll@eugeab@tarjapearce@maddielikesmoths@egotaestical

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #rigor mortis 😼#kat_writes😼#spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut

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writing-with-moss · 2 months ago

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Kinktober 1- Masks

(Authors note) Just ignore the fact I'm three days late :P, its also my first Kinktober!!! YAYYY!!

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

TW/CW- Masks, semi-rough sex, he eats you out through the mask 😋, porn no plot, reader has female anatomy but no pronouns or descriptions

SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

Your eyes watched his brown eyes sweeping over your form, his large body leaning against the wall of your bedroom. His gaze, cold and calculated made you feel anything but cold.

Your mind was muddled as you sat on the bed, thighs clenched together as you rub them, flips turning in your stomach as you gazed up at your boyfriends hulking form. God he probably could see how wet you were from there.

"Are you...gonna take the mask off?" You almost whimper, thighs squeezing together to get some friction in your soaked core, your underwear sticky and uncomfortable.

"...No Baby." He murmurs behind the fabric, huffing underneath it. "The mask stays on." His voice was partially muffled behind it, stalking towards you as the pale skin of his body stretched and flexed.

You leaned back and he grabbed your ankle, pulling you forward. You yelped and your eyes widened when your head hit the pillow, a flush rising up your cheeks. His meaty hands prying your thighs open.

"Hold still." He growls against your thighs and you quiver, his cheek pressed against your stretch marks. The rough material scratched at your skin, making you breathless and dizzy.

"Just let me take care of ya hm?" He scoops your legs under his arms, placing them on his broad shoulders. You look down at him, his eyes sweeping over your soaked underwear.

Fingers hook under the bands, throwing them aside as his fingers graze the side of your cunt, your muscles twitching and clenching around nothing.

"Atta girl..." He pressed his clothed mouth against your wet pussy, the cloth brushing against your clit as it jumps and twitches.

His fingers dig into the plush of your thighs as he tries to eat you out through the mask, the darkness of your arousal staining it. He sucks in, breathing harshly. Practically drowning himself in you, your smell getting to his head as he gets rougher and rougher. Fingers dragging down your thighs, trying to drag you closer.

You tense, trying to hold back your noises as your hand fly to your mouth, the other gripping at the back of his head, trying to stabilize yourself.

His ruts against the bed, whimpering into your pussy, pants tight as his bulge grows.

"Fuck baby, please cum for me, cum for me-" He groans into you, sickening pornographic sounds coming from his lips.

The coil starts to tighten in your belly, head thrown back as you pant into your palm, pupils blown out wide as you writhe.

"I- Im gonna-"

"Good girl. Cum for me-" The coil tightens and for a second it all stops, until it washes over you. Bucking into his face as you ride out your high.

Your head falls back, chest rising and falling rapidly as you lazily look down at him. His mask soaked and his eyes wide with want.

"Atta girl." He slaps your thigh and you jerk up.

"T- Tease-" You mumble, rolling over.

(Havent written smut in forever so hopefully its good T0T)

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twice-inamillion · 1 year ago

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Momo in the Studio

Smut (dirty talk, sex, penetration, creampie, sex crazy momo)

Chapter 216

1,570 Words

(OC and Momo spend some time in the studio. They work together on some lyrics but gets messy in the end. 😏)

After arriving in Korea, you have spent most of your time in the studio. The members use their time at the company for dance practice or to work on lyrics for songs they want to submit for the next album.

Momo is one of those who is excited to show you some lyrics she wrote for a potential song.

“Amazing work, Momo. How did you come up with this?”

“Really? It’s good?”

“Yeah, it gives a different vibe.”

“Thanks! Hmm… I went around and asked unnie for help.”

“Nayeon and Jeongyeon?”

“I can’t say, but they gave me some pointers.”

“Thank them because I can see this as a potential song.”

The two of you spent a couple of hours in the studio trying out some potential beats. Momo became interested in the process and stuck to you like glue. “So if you change this, it gives a different vibe to the song? It’s supposed to be a love and hate type of song, but it’s also kind of hot,” as Momo presses her breast to your arm.

“I think we can emphasize more on these words” as you mention the words “Love, I love you, love you, hate, foolish.”

“Yes, like you love someone and hate them too, seems like a hot way to have sex.”

“You must be sex crazy.”

Momo looks at you with lustful eyes, “It’s because I’ve only used my fingers and toys. You haven’t been filling me up as of lately.”

“You know how busy we’ve been. The wedding and the tour.”

She pushes your chair and gets on top of you, “Still, you could have given me a good fucking. Don’t think Jihyo would mind.” You know that she’s teasing you, and it’s working.

She notices you staring at her chest, “Wanna see my tits, Oppa?” Momo doesn’t wait for an answer and takes off her shirt, revealing her beautiful breasts held by a thin bra. She slowly undoes her bra and tosses it onto the nearby chair.

With her large nipple in front of you, it doesn’t take much for you to shove your face to her breast. You attach yourself to her nipple and suckle. Momo moans loudly and says, “Oppa, there’s no milk; I’m not Jihyo.”

You don’t respond and keep on focusing on her breast and move to the other. You place her nub between your teeth and give a slight bite. Momo cries from her nipple getting bitten and digs her nails into your arm.

After detaching yourself, Momo unbuttons your shirt and tosses it to the floor. She gets off of the chair, starts to undo the remainder of her clothes, and moves to remove your pants.

When she removes your boxers, your cock springs out hard. Momo looks at you with hunger in her eyes and says, “fuck, I missed your cock so much.” She gives it a few pumps and gets back on your lap.

You see Momo grab your cock and aligns it to her entrance. You ask, “No foreplay?” Momo looks at your crazed eyes, “No, I just want your cock in me, now,” and lowers herself to take in your head. She moans to the tip of your cock inside her, “Ooh, that feels so good, and it’s just the tip.” She lets the remaining of her weight go, and her cunt swallows your whole length.

“Fuck! You’re stretching me wide open!” Momo arches her back from the sudden pain of your massive cock invading her hungry womb.

She doesn’t hesitate to bounce on your cock aggressively. Momo grunts and moans loudly to your thick cock, spreading her walls wide open. “I hate you; you make me such a bad girl. You make me feel like I’m high.”

You notice her spouting out some of the lyrics of her songs as she rides you like a bull and you decide to tease her a bit. “Why do you hate me?”

Momo, with her hands fondling her massive breasts, yells, “I hate how Jihyo has you wrapped around her little fingers. She shouldn’t have you all for herself; she needs to share with the rest of us!”

She continues to ride your cock as you enjoy the show. Her perfect breast bounces right in front of you, “fuck, Momo. I love your breasts; I just want to milk them dry.”

“Only way you’ll get that is if you breed me,” giving you a smirk.

“You would want that, huh.”

“Yes! I enjoy the feeling of hot cum inside my womb.”

“I want to see you become a complete mess,” place your hands on her butt and stand up. With her arms wrapped around your neck, she holds on for dear life. You begin to fuck her in a stand-and-carry position as you walk to lock the door of the studio. You walk back and press the “recording in session” button to ensure that no one bothers the both of you.

“Make sure you fill me up real good, okay.”

You stand in the middle of the studio and fucking her mercilessly. Momo lets her full voice out as she grunts and moans loudly. “Just like that! Fuck me with your big, fat cock. Mess up that slutty pussy of mine.”

You give her a heavy slap on her ass and increase the pace of your thrusting. She digs her nails deep into your back, “Ahh… you’re going to make me addicted to your cock. Don’t stop, please.”

“Tell me where you like my cock.”

“Ahh… in my cunt.”

“Where?”

“I said in my cunt!

“I can’t hear you.”

“I said, I like it when you fuck me in my tight little cunt with that big fat cock of yours!”

“See it’s not so hard.”

You decide to change up the pace and let her do all the work. Momo uses her strength to bounce on your cock as she avoids falling. “Oppa, don’t let me do all the work; I’m about to fall.”

“You’re doing a good job, Momo. Just keep going, okay?” as you kiss her on the lips. She’s surprised from the sudden kiss and giggles, “Okay, but make sure you give me a reward after for doing all the work.”

Momo continues to bounce on you for what feels like an hour. As time goes by, her rhythm goes slowly, and her breathing becomes heavier. “Oppa, I can’t hold on anymore. My arms are about to give up.” She presses her head onto your chest and is entirely out of energy. You lift her up, pull out and reinsert your cock and do some slow but hard thrusts.

“In or out?”

She lifts her head and shyly whispers, “In.”

You walk towards the couch across the studio and slowly place on the sofa into a mating press. Standing in front of Momo, you get on your knees and tease her with your cock by tracing your head against her lips. With your cock in hand, you slap it on her cunt before inserting it back inside. You hold her legs up to her head and thrust yourself deep inside.

“Oh fuck!! Fuck… fuck… you’re too rough. You’re going to mess me up.”

“You told me to mess you up, so here it is. Take it like a good girl.”

Momo bites her lip as she feels the tip of your cock reaching the deepest part of her womb. She doesn’t resist and whines, “Cum inside me already; I want to feel it in my…”. You don’t let her finish her sentence as you pull out and slam yourself once more. Her eyes widen as she pulls her womb gets pumped with a large amount of thick hot cum.

“Hmm….fuck! Keep pouring that hot baby batter inside my slutty cunt!”

You watch as her belly grows bigger by the amount of cum you’re pouring inside of her. “You’re taking it like a good girl, Momo,” as you watch her satisfied face. You give her one last thrust before pulling out.

“Woah, you look so hot,” as you watch Momo’s creampie. “I really did a number on you,” as she lays on the couch with her legs spread wide open. You see a thick trail of cum oozing out and dripping onto the sofa and on the floor, creating a small puddle.

You walk to Momo and ask, “Hold a peace sign. I want to take a picture.” Momo holds a peace sign with both hands, sticks her tongue out, and rolls her eyes back.

“Haha, you really know how to turn on a guy, huh.”

Momo laughs at your comment, “I wouldn’t know. You’re the only guy I’ve been with.” You can’t help but smile and thank Jihyo for allowing you to play with her “sisters.”

You stare at Momo’s delicious body and see a slight bulge in her tummy. You give her belly a hard press and see a large amount of cum gush out of Momo’s used cunt.

With her two fingers, she traces her folds and collects as much cum as it can hold. She puts it in her mouth and says, “Tastes so good, it’s sweet,” as she licks her fingers clean.

#twice smut #kpop smut #twice fluff #kpop fluff #twice momo #twice momo smut #hirari momo #momo smut #momo hirai #momo #hirai momo #TM smut

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leviismybby · 1 year ago

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AOT veterans walking in on you and Levi

Erwin

Once and never again, he was so caught up in his work that he forgot for a moment that you and Levi were a couple. He didn't have time to finish his reports so he wanted to ask Levi to do it for him. Now, he did knock on the door of your bedroom but he didn't wait for a response which was a mistake. You and Levi were in the middle of it, his body on top of yours, your nails digging into his back as his hips moved passionately until.....Erwin clears his throat, luckily the sheet was over you and Levi so he didn't see the full thing, it was still awkward either way. "Sorry for the interruption but I need to borrow Levi for a moment. Do meet outside once you're decent." Erwin exits the room and Levi groans. "I stand stand this fucking place sometimes." He pulls out of you gently, kissing your forehead before getting up.

You watch the fresh marks on his back as he gets ready, he pulls up his underwear and pants, the frown on his face almost makes you laugh. Levi makes his way outside in the hallway. "What the fuck do you want?" Erwin looks at him. "For you to finish these, I have to attend a meeting and don't have time. Also, to learn how to lock the door when you and name are.... Busy." Levi scoffs at Erwin's words and takes the file from his hand. "Learn how to knock first, Smith." Erwin chuckled at Levi's tone before adjusting his coat. "I did, you two were too caught up in the moment to notice." He nods his head at Levi and then turns around to walk away, Levi glares at his back before he returns to your bedroom. It didn't affect Erwin at all, after all, you and Levi were soldiers and he understood that stress needed to be taken care of one way or another. But he was very careful since then, not catching you ever again.

Hange

Not going to lie, this one was completely on you and Levi. Levi couldn't wait for you two to get back to your room so he pulled you into a random room in the headquarters, that room just happened to be Hange's lab. You two were kissing, you were bent over a table, your hands gripping the wood as Levi pounded you. Somehow, you both missed Hange's voice coming down the hallway. "...so you see I have some in my- oh hello." Hange says, their eyes going slightly wide before they smile. "How did you manage to bend her over like that??" "Dammit Hange! Get the fuck out!" Levi growled, covering your body and his voice was rough. "Hey I am the one who is supposed to be the mad one here, you two are fucking in MY lab-" Levi takes a folder and throws it at them, Hange quickly hides behind the wall. "Okay okay, I get it.." They close the door quickly before their squad arrives. "Squad leader is everything okay?" Nifa asks carrying a stack of books Hange told her to bring to her lab. Hange is trying not to laugh as they speak. "It's all fine Nifa but umm my lab is currently preoccupied. Why don't you all bring those books to my office and I'll be there in a second kay?" Their squad nods and walks past her, Hange giggles to themselves before opening the door to purposely mess with you and Levi some more. "Well that's a new position." "Hange!" Both of you say at the same time and they snicker before closing the door behind them. "Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with them...?" Levi asks, his hands on your hips, still inside of you. "It's Hange, you know how they are..." You say holding onto him tightly. "This was a bad idea but I am not stopping now." He kisses you again. Hange caught you before but this one was most entertaining for them.

Miche

Was not impressed at all, he caught you two while you two were at the training ground. It was late at night and Levi couldn't help it after seeing you all hot and sweaty after training. Miche was preparing the training grounds for tomorrow's training, he was setting up the training dolls and making sure that all the equipment was put right. He heard weird sounds coming from the trees nearby and decided to check it out. To his surprise it wasn't anyone in pain, it was you moaning as Levi was on his knees in front of you eating you out while your hands gripped his hair. Miche peeked around the tree and quickly looked away but he wasn't afraid to make his presence known. "Seriously? Out here?" His voice spoke surprising both you and Levi, Levi quickly stood up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as you pulled your pants up. "Why on the titans name are you out here?" Levi says, clearly frustrated that he was interrupted in the moment with you. "I am doing my job unlike you." Miche comes around the tree and crosses his arms over his chest as he looks down at the two of you. Levi glares up at him and you can't meet his gaze out of embarrassment. "You two do know that if I report this to Erwin he can give you a punishment." Miche says keeping his voice calm, despite his words you and Levi both know that he won't do it, he said it the last time too but never actually told on you. Besides, Erwin wouldn't bother with the matter anyway. "And what? You think someone will actually punish me for having private time with my girlfriend?" Levi says back leaning against the tree as you sigh. "That's not the issue Levi. The issue is that you two keep doing these activities everywhere else apart from your bedroom it seems." Silence follows after that, it's not like Miche is in the wrong here. "Well then, I'll be off. But please for the love of everything, her a room." He chuckles slightly as he walks away. You groan. "You couldn't wait?" Levi looks at you as you say that. "No. Now spread your legs and lean back on the tree."

Nanaba

The worst luck, she walks in on the two of you in Levi's office. You were sitting on his lap riding him as he gripped your hips, his lips kissing your jaw when you speed up your hips. The two of you were close to your orgasms until. "Captain Levi, I was told you have the......training....schedule." Nanaba stops in her tracks and quickly turns around and exits the office not wanting to invalidate your privacy. She decides after a few seconds to talk through the door, yes it's an awkward situation but she still needs to get her job done. "I apologize for that. I was just wondering if the training schedule is done so I can forward it to other soldiers." Nanaba spoke firmly through the door, as she expected, there was no answer. She was about to walk away when papers slid from under the door, Nanaba picks them up and looks at them. "Thanks Levi." She walks away, slightly shocked at what she just saw still, she can't help but laugh a little, she will now have something to tease you about. Levi was annoyed that he was interrupted at the most intense times. "At least she respected our privacy." He says and sits back down on his chair, pulling you on his lap. "Levi...I thought you just learned your lesson." You smile as he kisses from your neck. "I locked the door since people in this place clearly have zero fucking moral."

Moblit

Oh poor thing, he is the one that never caught anyone like that so he was super flustered. He didn't even know how to react when he caught you and Levi in the library. It was evening and all Moblit wanted was to read a book. On the other side of the library, you and Levi were making out against the bookshelf, your hands and legs wrapped around Levi tightly as he entered you. Levi did hear someone open the library door so he put a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as he continued to thrust into you. Moblit had a gas lamp in his hand as he went on to look for a book to read until he took a step around the corner and then, his lamp dropped on the floor as he saw you and Levi. "I am so sorry! I didn't know- I didn't mean to!" He quickly takes any book from the bookshelf and just runs out of the library with a blushing face. You laugh when you hear the door close. "Poor Moblit. He must be modified." Levi scoffs, his cock sliding in and out of you. "I don't fucking care. I heard him come in, his fault for being too curious." He kisses you on the lips again. Hange laughs as they get Moblit to tell them what got him blushing so much. "You'll get used to it. I caught them in my lab once, they have zero shame." Hange taps Moblit on the shoulder. And for a few days Moblit tried to avoid you and Levi as much as he could, though he didn't judge you two at all.

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shadybiotics · 6 months ago

Text

P e n t u p e m o t i o n s

× pairing: venture x reader

× words: 1700

× content: fem!reader, afab!venture, nsfw, one sided pining, venture is a little pent up lol,,, masturbation, this is mostly smut

× summary: The Wayfinders have recently taken in a new practitioner assistant under their wing, and never before has Venture bottled their emotions more.

[ A/N ] : i need venture desperate and needy but like,,, in a pathetic and embarrassing way, enjoy

It was late. The day was about to end and the dig site has become awfully quiet as everyone was already in bed.

Sloane laid on their back in their tent, arm under their head. It was silent and peaceful. Its been a long day at the dig site, they were exhausted and yet they couldn't fall asleep. As they tossed and turned trying to get some shuteye, their thoughts repeatedly trailed back to a certain someone. To you.

Its been two and a half months already since you joined the Wayfinders but Venture warmed up to you in no time. You showed genuine interest in what they were doing and always tried your best.

You were still only a practitioner assistant so you didn't exactly do much yet. You were mainly there to watch, take notes and learn but not wanting to be completely idle you kept offering your help in various ways. Venture remembered your eagerness fondly, how you kept saying that 'its no big deal' and how you can 'do it on your own'. It was cute, they thought. Thinking back on it brought a tender smile to their face. They sighed.

There was one instance where some crates and boxes needed moving. Venture took a break from their own work and was about to get to it, before your hands suddenly clasped the edges of the crate as you leaned over it. "I got it" you said with confidence.

You didn't really look like someone who had a lot of experience with heavy lifting, not to Venture you didn't at least. They feared they would feel guilty if they let you lift these boxes all on your own, before their eyes started drifting that is. As you leaned over the crate your top hung loosely, giving them a comfortable peek at your chest from where they stood. Venture ogled with their brows slightly raised. The idea of letting you do it instead didn't seem so bad anymore.

"Uh sure, go ahead" Venture complied running their hand through their sweat damped hair, you grinned. With a huff you leaned down further, your top drooping even lower, unknowingly to you, and showing more of your breasts. Even the lace of your bra now clearly visible. Venture just stood there frozen and staring, their eyes watched intensely when your arms squeezed your chest together as you lifted the wooden box with yet another huff. Their wide eyes met yours as you smiled and walked away, visibly struggling but not giving up. Their cheeks rapidly darkened as they finally caught themselves staring. Damn.

Remembering these moments made their head swoon all over again, their breath getting heavier with each passing moment.

Frustrated, with one hand they reached up and rubbed their face, trying to rub those fantasies out of their mind. Their attempt pointless. With a tense face and brows tightly knit their hand slithered down, down... down slowly, soon reaching the waistband of their pants. Their eyes relaxed closed. Without thought and with a smooth flick of a finger Sloane undid one button. And then another.

There was also another time, when you and Venture sat closely arm to arm. Notepad and pen in your hand as Venture expressively explained the proper way to restore different items and trinkets that you would inevitably, hopefully, find. How to tell their age, how to look out for signs of damage or decay, and how to then handle such fragile findings.

You listened carefully as you noted their advice, asking a few questions here and there. You were so focused on your note taking that you didn't even realize how you pursed your lips slightly to the side or how cute you looked when you swooped loose hair strands away from your face.

"God...", Venture cursed themselves. They wished you knew what you were doing to them. They wished you knew how adorable and alluring you were, how you always managed to make their day ten times better with your witty words and honest smile. They sighed. That smile... and those lips... "...This is just awful".

Ventures hand kept going lower.

They imagined how it would feel to bite your lip, to lightly trace their teeth on your neck. They imagined themselves finally getting to roughly tug that damn top of yours down and fully seeing what was underneath. Their large calloused hands hungrily feeling your body, grabbing and squeezing anywhere, everywhere...

Before Venture knew it, their hand was down their trousers. Thick fingers slowly but firmly traced continuous small circles. Their heartbeat quickened. Sloane licked their lips before they let out a shaky breath they weren't aware they were holding.

They wondered if you liked getting your hair pulled, hell, they would love to give it a try. Their large hands wrapping themselves in your lovely hair and tugging at your scalp, lightly at first, hoping to hear some delicious sounds leave your mouth as you arched into them. Pushing you further and further, seeing how much you can take. How rough they could get before you couldn't take any more.

Venture was almost panting now.

They have become so pent up over these few weeks and they needed this badly. They needed you badly and they hates how you weren't the one touching them right now. They despised how all they had to rely on right now to release some of these frustrations was their own hand.

More flustered now, their other hand gripped the bedding of their tent tightly, the knot inside growing tighter rapidly.

They wanted to know how to work you right. They wanted to learn the curves of your body, learn how to please you. They wanted to please you.

Their hips involuntarily bucked into their hand again and again, breathy moans and grunts leaving their lips as they thought about bending and stretching you to their will, shoving their fingers in your mouth... down your slit. Would you lick them? Maybe suck on them? Or bite them playfully, they wondered. Their fingers worked faster now, harder.

"Ah... ah..." Sloane moaned louder now. They sucked in a breath through gritted teeth as they imagined your hands playing with their body. How lovely your hands would feel as they slowly traced Sloanes jaw, then neck, then chest. Clawing there just enough to leave light marks where your nails previously scratched.

They were so close now. Muscles beginning to spasm. Head tossing and turning.

God, they would love to be marked by you. Just the thought of you leaving little scars on their flushed skin as you grind onto their fingers -no their strap -no their mouth, they couldn't even decide. Mind all too fuzzy.

Grunts and groans escaped their mouth when they thought of how pretty your eyes would look when looking down at them as they ate you out. Your eyes glossy with tears from overstimulation as they made you see stars over and over, lapping you up with their skilled tongue. Your thighs bruised from their secure grip as their tongue flicked your clit with precision.

Fuck. Even when you did little to nothing you drove them crazy. A memory of you sitting on one of the crates you just got done moving flashed before Sloanes eyes. Your shirt uncomfortably sticky with sweat, your chest heaving in exhaustion, lips slightly parted and a bead of sweat rolling down your forehead. A book in your hand used to fan yourself.

Venture wished they could get you to such a state. Make you sweat. Make you feel exhausted. Be the cause of your chest rising and falling rapidly.

Venture was so close now. Their fingers were getting sloppier and the rhythm of their hips shaky. They were almost there. They chocked out a repressed moan and hissed in pleasure, their hand circling even faster. They were about to-

" Pssst... "

A whisper ripped through the thin fabric of Ventures tent unannounced and jarringly yanked Sloane out of their sweet, sweet trance. In a panic, followed by cold sweat and a heaving chest, they hastily jolted up. Eyes wide darting everywhere trying to find the source of the sound.

"Vent- Sloane?" You corrected yourself "You sound like you're in pain... are you alright?" you questioned with a soft tone, your voice quiet and clearly concerned.

The realization of what was happening suddenly dawned on them.

Completely lost in their fantasies, Sloane was being way too loud for their own safety. Were they so loud that they have accidentally awoken you?! Or did you just happen to walk by?? Possibly on a late night walk and overheard them as you passed by?!? Their mind panicked even more as it came down from the previous high.

Their face quickly darkened in embarrassment before they tried coughing up some explanation. But still in shock, they couldn't think of anything.

Thankfully you didn't seem to get the right idea of what was really going on here.

"Y-y-yeah. . . yeah im fine" They replied shakily, still out of breath.

"Are you sure you aren't hurt? Do you want me to look you over?" Venture eyes widened as they heard you take a step closer to their tent, now horrified you might pull the zipper next and have to see them in this humiliating state. Their mind was screaming at them. They waved their hands frantically in front of them, as if that was going to be of any help to stop you from moving any closer.

"Nonono! Im sooooo good! I just uh..." they paused thinking "I scraped my arm on.. something, earlier! Today! Im tooootally coolio though!" they chuckled. Nervousness clear as day in their voice.

There was a moment of silence, an awfully tense and uncomfortable silence.

Venture could almost choke on their heartbeat because of how hard their heart was pounding in their throat.

"Alright then, if you say so, good night Sloane" you replied warmly as your footsteps slowly grew more distant.

When your footsteps could no longer be heard Venture flopped back down onto their back and groaned, scolding themselves mentally as one arm covered their face. If they could they would scream right about now.

Great... this is just... great.

#laughs devilishly #they are MY comfort character and I get to decide how to torture them #reader has never heard of privacy lol #venture x reader #overwatch x reader #venture #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #sloane cameron #sloan cameron #overwatch #nsft

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iliketangerines · 6 months ago

Text

cowgirl

a/n: i need quaritch to talk dirty to me in that damn voice of his and then let me slap the shit out of him @neteyamssyulang @anemonelovesfiction

pairing: recom!quaritch x recom!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), cowgirl

Quaritch watches you with a smile on his face, hands gripping onto your waist but not helping you otherwise, and you pout at him, digging your fangs into your bottom lip

your legs burn with exhaustion as you try to lift yourself up again, but all you can do is let out a pathetic mewl as you grind your clit into his pelvis

the colonel just smiles up at you, asking if you’re ready to beg, and you snarl, tail whipping at him as you say that you would not beg

but he’s right, you’re close, not strong enough to ride yourself to an orgasm but too desperate to not cum at all tonight

perhaps you should’ve gone to those damn military trainings instead of holing yourself up in the medical tent and pouring over the textbooks on na’vi physiology

well, it’s too late, and now you’re riding Colonel Quaritch’s dick and failing to reach your high after what felt like an hour

you start a slow pace again, gasping at the feeling of his cock dragging against your sensitive walls, and your fingers rub firm circles into your clit

your pussy clenches down on his cock, and Quaritch lets out an imperceptible grunt

by god, you need him to break first, need him to bounce you on his cock and make you see stars inside of your eyelids as he cums inside of you

but he’s so fucking infuriating and refuses to give up, and you’re too stubborn and determined to give in either

so the two of you are stuck floating in a space of pleasure, constantly chasing your high but too angry at each other to really make each other cum

your thighs burn with exertion, and you let out a strained sound and sit back down, biting your lip as his cock bullies his way back inside of you

Quaritch presses his lips into a fine line, clearly also on the edge and frustrated, and his fingers dig into your waist and leave bruises on the blue skin

you pant into the air, trying to catch your breath, and you squeeze around him, drawing a moan out of him, louder than the ones before

his hands slightly push down on your hips, grinding you down on his lap, and you whimper out his name at the feeling

he looks up at you with pupils blown wide, muttering fuck it, and squeezes onto your waist and plants his feet into the mattress

he lifts you up and down on his cock, bouncing you like you weighed nothing, and you let out a whimper of his name, fingers rubbing your clit desperately

it’s the sound of your hips slapping together as he bucks up into your heat in time with his arms moving you up and down, and you can’t help it as you let out a choked moan of his name and fall down onto him so that your chests press together

you press your lips to his, whining into his mouth, and Quaritch doesn’t stop you, tongue prodding at the seam of your lips and slipping in when you groan

his pelvis rubs against your clit, and so you bring your hands up to hold onto his shoulders as he keeps fucking into you

you can feel his abs flexing underneath you and how his hands grip onto your waist tightly as he tries to hold onto his control

he growls into your mouth, his fangs digging into your lip and ear pinning back as he moans out your name and pushes your hips down to grind on him

your pussy clenches down on him, and you cum with a high-pitched whine of his name

Quaritch is no better as he cums inside of you, his seed filling you up from the inside and warming you, and he grinds your hips down on him for a little longer

the both of you pant, neither of you getting up for a moment

and then you remember this is Quaritch, and you push yourself up and wrinkle your nose, ears and tail flicking in displeasure

you quickly clamber your way off of him, ignoring how his cum runs out of your legs and makes you shiver

spotting his discarded tank top, you quickly wipes yourself of the mess, and he shoots up as he realizes what you’re doing

you throw on your oversized shirt and grab your clothes off the floor as he jumps out of the bed, and you nearly kick the door open as you run down the hall faster than you had ever before before he can grab onto you

he’d definitely get you back for it later

#tangerine writes #heatwaveinpandora2024 #avatar way of water #atwow #atwow smut #atwow x reader #atwow x y/n #atwow x you #colonel quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #avatar quaritch #recom quaritch #quaritch x reader #quaritch x y/n #quaritch smut #miles quaritch

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sugarushwriting · 2 days ago

Text

exotic dancer lee minho x reader

you just ended a relationship, your friends try to cheer you up

adult content featured, read at your own discretion

too lazy to proof read sorry

“come on it’ll be fun!”

“momo, you’re talking about male strippers!”

“ah ah, exotic dancers!” momo tsked.

momo and your three other friends dragged you into the strip club where the exotic male dancers were.

background context: you were just dumped by your fiancé of 6 months, who claimed he didn’t love you or wanted to be with you.

you both had dated on and off for 3 years, before he finally proposed 6 months ago. turns out he felt pressured and didn’t want to actually be with you anymore.

3 days ago you found him out in public with his new girlfriend. who yunjin did some digging on, and found your ex had been seeing her for 3 months.

while you two were engaged to be married.

it hurt you. you tried so hard to act like it didn’t, because truth be told, you weren’t actually happy with him. you also felt pressure and the need to be married.

you were in your late twenties, the only thing you had were your career and cats. although that was enough to you, it wasn’t enough for your parents. it wasn’t necessarily that they wanted grandkids, but someone who would take care of you once they pass on.

although you were independent, your parents didn’t want to see you grow old and alone.

inside, the club was all dark lights, poles galore, and shirtless men even more.

before taking a seat, you all stopped by the bar to grab drinks.

you weren’t complaining about the view, it’s just something you weren’t used to—or ever did.

“what am i supposed to do?” you asked lost, looking around.

momo led you and your friends to a booth, a pole and stage in the middle.

“relax, let the men dance for you, and tip!”

“do i touch them?”

“only if they invite you to.” momo winked.

you looked at the pamphlet on near the booth’s table, “it looks like this dancer’s name is, cat daddy?”

“mhm, he can be the daddy of my cat, any day.”

“sana, you don’t have a cat.”

“yes i do, and she’s purring right now.” sana laughed, mina, nayeon and momo joining in.

it took you a while to understand the innuendo, and you joined in the laughter, you all quickly quieting down when a man with cat ears came into view near the booth.

with a smirk, he bowed, his muscles showing off in the black sleeveless top he had on, and the tight black pants showing his strong thighs.

“i’m cat daddy, how can i help you beautiful ladies this evening?”

sana and mina fanned themselves, momo engaging in conversation with a pout, “our friend here just went through a terrible break up and could use a great distraction.” momo’s hands were on your shoulder to let the man know who it was.

“i’m sorry to hear that miss, but i can be of great service to distract you.”

“mhm, would you be a great service and give her a private dance? on me, of course, i’ll pay.” momo smirked, catching you off guard as your eyes went wide.

“mo—,” you went to say but she patted your bare thigh to get you to hush.

“of course, is the lady okay with that?” he turned to you, an eyebrow raised up. almost a little taunting or dare for you to say no.

“oh, yeah, i’m okay with that.” you replied.

with a smile, he grabbed your hand, your friends cheering in the back ground. the man led you in hand to the back, where many private rooms where, accompanied by a couple of guards by the main entrance.

“should i call you cat daddy? or is there another name i can use? or maybe you would like to know my name?” you rambled off. you ended up telling the man your name.

with a chuckle, he turned around to face you, a big smile plastered on his face. “i’ll all you kitten. fitting to my name, right?”

“i mean yeah—,”

“and you can just call me daddy.”

your eyes once again went wide, your body rigid at his words. not only your heart thumping in excitement, but also down south.

he pulled you into a vacant room, closing the door behind him, after turning the sign on the door, to say ‘occupied.’

he gestured for you to sit on the chair of the bed in the room.

you choose the bed as it looked the comfiest. “see, uh, i’ve never been at a place like this, so i don’t know what to do,” you rambled as you sat.

he never took his eyes off of you, like a predator stalking his prey.

you kept rambling, unaware of (or trying to ignore) him getting closer to you, soon his face right in front of yours, almost nose to nose.

“lay down kitten.”

“what—,”

you gasped when he forcefully laid you down, you suddenly sitting up on your forearms to look at him like he lost his damn mind.

that thought quickly went away, when he took off his shirt, almost teasingly, rolling his body as he did.

he pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, spreading your legs so he stood in between them. grabbing your hands, he held them against his abs, your fingers scratching along, his head tilting back as he moaned lightly from your cold touch.

he guided your hands up to his chest, and around his neck, as he leaned down to your ear. “if you let me, i can make you forget and feel real good for whatever that ex of yours did.” he whispered, sending shivers down your body.

he leaned back to look you in your eyes, you lost in his. he looked so innocent with those eyes of his, but you had a feeling, deep down, he wasn’t so innocent when it came to bed activities.

you smirked, “as long as the ears stay on.”

he smiled back knowingly, “mhm, kitten, i knew you had a side to you that was masked by that innocent act.” he kissed your neck, and whispered, “call me minho.”

minho kissed you once, before his hands grabbed yours again, this time to his pants, wanting you to help him take them off.

you didn’t expect your girls day to turn into a girls night, let alone a night where you end up at an exotic male dancers strip club.

you didn’t expect tonight to become so entranced by a man you didn’t know, to want to know his secrets, wants, and find out why he chose this job or life.

you for sure didn’t expect to have helped a man undress, leaving on his cat ears, and he undressing you of your short skirt and top.

and lastly, you didn’t even think tonight would end up with you on your back, in said club, in a private room, having said man licking between your folds like it was his last day eating on earth.

“oh—oh my,” you gasped then moaned, your hand shooting to minho’s fluffy hair, your back arching off the bed.

his tongue worked between your folds, nose nudging your clit, fingers used to spread you more open for him.

minho hummed and moaned, quietly showing his appreciation for letting him between your thighs.

for the way he was making you feel, you wanted to thank him. ex definitely forgotten, your mind focused on minho’s tongue, the noises, and the grips his hands now had on your thighs to keep you open as you kept threatening to close the closer you got to coming on his tongue.

“minho, i’m—i’m,”

“i know kitten, let go for me, mhm?” he hummed kissing your clit, before his tongue burrowed deep in your opening, you soon becoming over sensitive.

“fuck!” you gasped out, hand gripped tight on minho’s hair, as you tried to calm your racing heart, your chest up and down.

minho kissed up your stomach, to your naked chest, deciding against overstimulating you. for now.

he licked one free nipple, then the other. he continued his way up to find your neck, his teeth latching the skin for a teasing bite.

minho sat up, knees on either side of you, you reached up to his calvin klein boxers, your fingers teasing the band. it sent chills through minho’s body, his dick becoming harder with the touch.

“don’t tease me, kitten.” he warned through a moan.

you smiled, taking out his dick from the tight black boxers, him hard and tip red, already leaking a bit of precome.

with a lick, you lightly brush led your tongue against his tip, before leaving a kiss. you pulled away, your thumb rubbing circles on the tip.

no hesitation, minho scooted closer as smoothly as he could with his boxers around his thighs, and shoved his dick in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with a gag.

you quickly adjusting yourself to his thickness, and grabbed minho’s ass in your hand as he did the work by rocking and rolling his hips against your mouth.

“that’s it baby, take all of me.” he moaned quietly, you getting wet by each second. you were ready for him to just ruin you between your legs. to leave his everlasting mark.

with spits of curses and moans, it didn’t take much longer until minho stilled and came in your mouth.

pulling out, some leaked from your lips, minho quickly running his tongue against the side of your lips before he kissed you, tongue forcing itself inbetween your lips, in your mouth.

spit mixing, sloppy and wet, minho slipped the boxers off of his thighs, never detaching his lips from yours. he laid over you, his tip teasing your folds and clit.

you bit his bottom lip, tugging it between your teeth. “ruin me. distract me more.” you wrapped your arms around his neck, as minho plunged his dick into you, no waiting for adjustment.

you let out a gasp at the intrusion, but the gasp was of pleasure, and minho hummed, loving the sounds from your lips.

“i’ll make you forget all about past men you thought could please you, kitten.” minho rolled his hips, to aim deeply into you as much as he could. he wanted to be slow first.

the way he rolled his hips, and whenever he did, hit the right spot in you.

“minho,” you squealed, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“mhm that’s it kitten, scream my name. minho—daddy, will make you forget all about those pathetic excuses of past mistakes.”

you could speak, so you just nodded. eyes closed, as tears threatened to spill at how good he was making you feel.

minho suddenly changed his pace from slow to rough. his hips snapping back before forward, your thighs wrapped around him, thigh on thigh skin slapping.

minho pulled out, getting off the bed, before he tugged you along with him.

you brain was gone dumb, as he guided you to the chair, you gripped one of the arms of the chair, minho lifted your right leg to rest on the chair as the other stayed flat on the floor.

minho plunged into you from behind, the new angle, literally causing your own pussy to squeal along with you. you gasped, mouth wide open, as minho rocked his hips from behind you, fucking into you from behind. cheeks clapping, his hand wrapped around your throat, his veins on display, as his index finger forced its way into your mouth.

you sucked on his finger, his pace never faltering, you felt your pussy leaking from all the wetness coming from you.

his other hand snuck around your body, so two of his fingers could start adding pressure to your clit, sending you to the edge.

you didn’t mean to, but you slightly bit his finger, before screaming out his name. “minho!”

your brain and mind really turned to mush, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your vision going dark.

you came hard around his dick, sure leaving a ring of white around the base.

but minho’s thrusts became rougher and sloppier, as he chased his own. he was finally overstimulating you into oblivion and submission.

one of your hand gripped the chair’s arm tightly, the other gripping minho’s forearm, he gripped your chin so your head rested against his chest, your eyes facing him the best to your ability.

your body was in a position you didn’t know was possible, back arched so much, minho loved the sight in front of him.

he loved watching his dick disappear between your folds, your ass hitting perfectly against his hips.

with one last thrust, minho grunted, pulling out to leave his come on your backside. thick and warm, he breathed heavily, as if he ran a marathon. you nearly collapsed on the chair, but minho caught you to help you back to the bed, placing you on the bed.

he grabbed some wet wipes that were placed on a table in the room (next to the condoms you both ignored) and wiped his come off of you, and wiping between your thighs gently before he cleaned up himself.

“how, how am i supposed to walk out there like nothing happened?” you groaned out, struggling to sit up.

minho laughed, “you don’t, you do the walk of shame.”

“there was nothing shameful about that.” you grinned. “other than maybe fucking in a club.” you rolled on your back, laid out.

no time to rethink life choices or reminisce about what just happened.

you had to first put your clothes (and find your underwear), then think of how to exit while steady on your feet.

it wasn’t that you were in pain, but more so still over stimulated losing feeling in your legs.

“there’s an exit out back. you can tell your friends to pick you up there if you want to avoid lookers.”

you nodded. “best idea.”

minho, back dressed, cat ears still on, he walked out to find your friends. you quickly dressed, still not finding your underwear, but did your best to look presentable.

minho walked back to the private room. “they’ll meet you out back with a rideshare. is your place far?”

you shook your head, “we rented a hotel a block away. we live about 2 hours away from here.”

“different city to avoid people you may know?”

you nodded shyly. “yeah.”

minho walked closer to help you stand up, “kind of disappointing you live so far from me kitten. i would have loved to see you again.”

you felt hot, nearly blushing. “um, you don’t need to sweet talk me. you made me feel better and distract me.”

minho’s finger went to your chin, you lift your head up to look into his eyes, “kitten, if you think i do what i just did with you, with anyone, you’re mistaken.”

he kissed your lips tenderly. “why me?” you whispered.

minho shrugged. “honestly don’t know.” he smiled when you initiated a kiss this time. “promise to come see me, again?”

“mhm, maybe.” you teased. minho gripped your hips, and you chuckled, “okay, yes, i will.”

“good. especially since i know you’ll want your blue underwear back.”

#fanfiction #stray kids #lee minho smut #minho one shot #stray kids x reader #stray kids lee know #lee know oneshot #lee know drabble #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee minho #lee minho x reader #stray kids smut

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shouyuus · 6 days ago

Text

colorimetery

kuroo; 1,843 words; fluff, lapslock, no "y/n", abuse of extended metaphors, none of this makes sense, kenma is the most in-touch person in this entire fic and that should tell you something, awk!kuroo, whipped!kuroo

summary: in which kuroo is down bad for you and nothing much else happens

a/n: @seiwas this is for u! u asked for kuroo and i humbly deliver :) hope u liked it bby; fun fact, a lot of these colors are pulled from the gamblin oil paints website bc i love their paints and also i love the thought that a lot of pigments were poisonous way back when and ppl were just... casually poisoning themselves while making their art; there's a metaphor in there somewhere... but i'll leave that up to interpretation lol

─── 鉄朗 THERE ARE COLORS he doesn’t know the names for, just like there are birds who will sing songs that no human will ever understand, but somewhere between the viridian of a sun-lit forest and the minor trill of a mockingbird’s call, he finds the shape of you.

and he doesn’t remember exactly when he’d started feeling like this, only that he’d woken up one day to a pastel sky, heard the tell-tale blip of a message from you, and felt his entire body flush vermillion, hard enough to poison.

c’mon, bedhead. time for school.

he grins down at the message, his lips pulling wide, his fingers still blunted by his honeyed dreams (how many of you? don’t ask him — he’s long since lost count) as he types out a reply.

be there in three.

he stumbles out of bed in the raw sienna sunrise, pulling on his uniform pants, shoving the hems of his un-ironed white shirt into the waistband before dashing out the door. he finds you haloed in liquid gold, standing on his doorstep, flicking through your phone before you notice him and your face breaks into an earth-rending smile.

kuroo feels dizzy, punchdrunk, a sake-shot of fire sizzling down his front till it pools in the base of his belly as he pulls on his shoes and tries to hide behind a well-timed cough.

“c’mon, we’re gonna be late.” he brushes passed you, but not before reaching out to ruffle at your hair, savoring in the midnight-soft of your tresses as it slips through his fingers.

you bicker the entire way to school, picking up kenma somewhere along the way. he casts you both a tired, reproachful look before slouching off ahead of you, content to resume whatever game he’s currently hyperfixating on while you and kuroo snipe at each other a few steps behind him.

“you could just ask her out,” kenma says during free period, his eyes never leaving his phone screen as he mashes at the attack button, watching the health bar of the boss monster dwindle even as kuroo makes an indignant sort of choking noise.

“w-what? she’s just — she’s just a friend.”

but at the scathing look kenma darts his way, kuroo finally relents.

“i — we’ve been friends for so long i just… i don’t wanna fuck it up, y’know?” he cards a hand through his already mussed up hair, eliciting a string of giggles from a cluster of girls sitting behind them, heads bent in towards one another, their long hair swishing like willow branches in a mid-autumn breeze; but neither of them take notice.

kenma heaves a world-weary sigh, grimacing as a large WIN!! image flashes across the face of his phone and he slumps back to frown at kuroo.

“i feel like you’ve built up enough affection points to unlock whatever good ending she’s got for you by now, so,” he pins kuroo with a pointed look, “i don’t think she’s gonna say no.”

kuroo can only blink, his mind churning around this strange yet apt analogy.

“aw man, you’re the best, y’know that?” he laughs, reaching over to catch kenma in a headlock, digging his knuckles into the crown of kenma’s head even as he struggles fruitlessly to get free.

it is in the cadium orange glow of sunset, after your art class and his volleyball practice, that kuroo finally works up the courage —

“hey uh — can i ask you something?”

you hike an eyebrow, a dangerous grin sharpening the shape of your lips.

“didn’t you just?”

kuroo lets out a frustrated sigh, “fuck you, you know what i meant.”

you laugh, the timber of it ringing through him like church bells on a sunday morning, and suddenly, he wonders if this feeling might be what inspired the ancients to worship at the feet of so much divinity — just this, the giddiness and anticipation, the knowledge and uncertainty. this, the insurmountable weight of something (call it love or infatuation, he doesn’t care) pressing down on his chest hard enough to rob him of every last breath.

he think that perhaps this is all anyone’s ever needed to start believing in magic.

“okay, okay,” you say, stifling a grin behind pink-pursed lips, “what did you wanna ask?”

“go out with me,” kuroo blurts out, well before he can stop himself. and he almost wants to sink into the earth with the way his entire body goes hot, the aftermath of a tectonic shift, the pluming heat of a volcanic hiccup.

you stare up at him, your expression curiously blank as he watches you, desperate for any sign of your answer, the most minuscule tells of how you might be feeling.

finally, you cock your head and ask, “was… there a question in there somewhere?”

kuroo almost swears*. almost*.

“fuck — fine! i meant — will you —”

“yes.”

“— it’s just i’ve — wait, what?” kuroo freezes, staring down at you with slack-jawed disbelief, blinking as if he doesn’t quite understand what you’re saying.

you allow yourself a smile, and kuroo feels his insides melt to something very much like molten marshmallows.

you let out a sigh that sounds remarkably like kenma’s — exasperated and amused in equal measure — before glancing back up at him with a bashful smile.

internally, kuroo wonders if this is what being “k.o-ed” feels like and he resolves to be just a bit more merciful to all of videogame opponents.

“i said yes, you big volleyball-obsessed oaf —”

“oh,” kuroo says, still not quite sure what he’s supposed to do from here.

you roll your eyes and turn back towards the sidewalk, taking a few steps before twisting your head to look at him.

“aren’t you gonna walk me home?”

kuroo nearly trips in his eagerness to level himself with you, but once he does, he straightens his shoulders and puffs out his chest.

“so —” he says, in a stab at his usual carefree bravado, “do i get to call you my girlfriend now?”

you shrug, “sure, if you want to.”

kuroo deflates ever so slightly, “what? you don’t want me to?”

you slant him a look that makes his knees turn to jelly.

“yeah, i do. but that won’t matter if you don’t, right?”

“i — i do!”

“so then…”

you turn your back on him again, though he’s sure this time he catches it — the dash of sweet magenta, swept across your lips like a kiss, or a promise.

or, the thought licks up the back of his throat, tantalizing — the promise of a kiss.

“oi.” he jogs to catch up with you, reaching out to sling an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in to press his lips into the thick of your hair, breathing you in, losing himself in the familiar smell of your shampoo — green tea and apples, or something of the sort.

you laugh, and he basks in the sound.

by the time he walks you home, the street is gilded in goldenrod yellow, your shadows stretching long beneath you, the slant-wise light painting everything in an ethereal glow.

“well,” kuroo says, shoving his hands into his pockets, if only to keep them from fidgeting, because guys like him don’t get nervous. at least, not like this.

“well,” you echo, letting your voice linger over the ‘l’, letting it twist around your tongue, the sound lulling at the top of your palette till kuroo feels his stomach catch.

“see you tomorrow?” he asks, cursing himself internally for sounding so uncertain. since when has he been so uncertain?

your lips twist into a tease, just a fish-tail flicker, and kuroo knows he’s done for.

“do you wanna stay for dinner?” you ask, just as he opens his mouth.

“unless you don’t —” his voice jerks into an abortive breath.

somewhere behind him, a raven fluffs out it’s feathers on the low-cut wall that separates your house from the rest of the street. a single black feathers flutters to the ground, dark as an oil spill.

“unless i don’t what?” you ask.

kuroo swallows around his thundering heartbeat, feeling the last dregs of sunlight seep from the far horizon.

“i was gonna say… unless you — you didn’t wanna say goodbye,” he admits, his eyes flicking away from your face if only to give himself a momentary reprieve from the intensity of your gaze.

you purse your lips, shrugging up a shoulder, a single lock of hair slipping from its place behind your ear.

“i never do. c’mon — or else they’ll start eating without us.”

kuroo is speechless as he watches you make your way up the shallow steps to your door, glancing over your shoulder towards him. he doesn’t know how many times he’s stayed over for dinner, how many times he’d lingered in the perfumed warmth of your room while you showered, flipping absently through the latest volume of jump, how many times you’d fallen asleep with your damp hair slowly soaking into his school uniform.

he couldn’t count them all if he wanted to. and he doesn’t really want to.

he takes a breath and takes the front path two steps at a time, leaping up the staircase with a smirk as he skims his palm along the top of your head. you make a sound like an annoyed hamster and kuroo allows himself a laugh that bubbles up and up and up till it’s spilling over, till he pushes open your front door and is greeted with the familiar sandalwood radiance of your front hallway, the light pooling around his ankles as he toes off his shoes.

“hey,” you say, and he turns around, only to find you leaning up on tip toe to brush your lips against his.

he freezes, but you’re pulling back already, shrugging off your coat, shouldering off your school bag and shouting down the hallway to ask what’s for dinner, and to say that kuroo’s here.

kuroo finds himself caught in the sharp cerulean blue of your laughter like the rain-washed sky, the smoke-ridden darkness in the shades of your eyes, he turns to see you blushing, even as you motion for him to follow you into the dining room. he does, only tripping over himself once (though he’s been feeling wobbly since this afternoon, when he’d resolved to ask you out in the first place).

and he tells himself that, yes, there will always be colors he doesn’t know the names of, bird songs he will never be able to understand. but colors, he can learn. and as for the birds — well, he figures that they’re all probably singing about falling in love anyway.

TAGLIST: @yaoduriaa @ominouslywritinginmyhead @naomihatake @cheesypuffkins87 @crispynutella @dira333 @stunies @phroggii @fennecnco @encrytpta @simpingdailyforthem @ryescapades -- join the taglist!

#⛈ monsoon season #kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #kuroo fluff #tetsurou kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kurou tetsurou fluff #hq fluff #x reader #tetsurou kurou x reader #there r entirely too many different romanized versions of his name wtf #i love when reader makes a mess of the character i rly do #i love a simpy man and honestly. kuroo would be a massive simp #i'll be taking no comments on that thought #LMFAOOO

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lunarpeonie · 1 year ago

Text

stay the night

in which you babysit megumi some nights and toji is sick of you showing up in those tight little shorts

1.3k words, nsfw

“Good evening, Mr. Fushiguro. I just put Megumi down.” You whispered as you held up the baby monitor. Toji hadn’t had one when you first started working for him and had purchased it at your insistence. You had been babysitting for the Fushiguro’s now for a few months, showing up whenever Toji had called. It wasn’t a regular thing, Toji had told you his job was a freelancer (whatever that meant) and his work wasn’t regular. Still, he paid decently and Megumi was a doll of a child, always so sweet and eager to have someone to babble to.

It also didn’t hurt that Toji was an absolute dilf. He had a perfectly placed scar on the corner of his lips that you wanted to paint pink with your lipstick. He towered over you and always had on shirts seemingly two sizes too small that outlined his hard abs and broad shoulders. You were waiting for him to lift his arm one day and have his shirt split down the middle. Long story short, you wanted him.

“Thanks.” He said digging in his pants pocket for his wallet to pay you for the night. He was never very talkative, especially so after he was done work. You had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t just with you. You turned around to grab your purse on the couch, not realizing how far your yoga shorts had ridden up. They had moved so far that now your peach colored panties were peeking out underneath.

You heard a faint rustling of clothing before feeling a large, calloused hand grip your waist. You stiffened in surprise and quickly turned your head to look at the man behind you. His hand traveled up in between the valley of your breasts and he tugged you so that your back was flush with his chest. His extremely muscular chest. You could already feel your face heating up.

Toji leaned his head next to your ear to whisper. “You didn’t have to wear those tiny shorts for my attention, you already have it. Do you know how hard it’s been to hold back all of this time? My self control has worn out.” It wasn’t as if you wore those shorts on purpose for this exact outcome… or that was what you told yourself to feel better about the fact that you desperately wanted the single father with an ambiguous job who always came home late.

“If you want to stop, say so now because once I get started, it’s too late.” He groaned into your ear. You shook your head vigorously no, unable to muster up the words to speak. He slots his lips against yours, swallowing your mewls of excitement. Toji nipped at your lower lip, inviting you to open for him. When you did, he slipped his tongue past your parted lips dominating your own.

“I’m gonna stuff you full,” he groaned, kissing up the side of your neck before pushing you hard onto the weathered sofa.

“I can barely wait to come home to my pretty little cockslut waiting for me.” His voice was teasing, one of his hands dipping under the waistband of your shorts, slowly working its way down and pulling both your shorts and underwear down with it.

“Taking care of my kid all day, waiting for me to come home and give you your reward.” He dipped two calloused fingers into your heat and groaned. “How are you so wet already?” He started off slow, but with your encouraging mewls, he began to aggressively scissor his digits in and out of your hole.

“Ah, Toji…” you trailed off as he lifted his fingers out of you, a trail of your essence following them. He guided his fingers to his awaiting mouth, scar stretching to open wide. Sucking hard on his two digits, he slid them slowly from his mouth and let go of them with a pop.

“I would play more but…” he trailed off, but you knew what he was thinking. You couldn’t waste time when you had a toddler down the hall that could wake up any moment. You feverishly unbuttoned the jeans clinging tight to his thighs and pulled down, gasping at the outline of his cock in his silky black boxers. You palmed the large bulge with your hand, feeling the pulsating veins even through the thin layer of fabric. It twitched as you began to run your hand up and down the clothed erection. Toji wasted no time in revealing it to you and let his boxers pool at his ankles before kicking them away. He was long and thick with a nest of black hair resting at the base of him. The curtains do match the drapes.

“Oh my god.” You whispered, but not quiet enough for it to escape Toji’s notice. He shot you a devilish grin before pushing you so your back laid on the faux leather couch.

“Next time, I’ll take my time on you. Maybe shove my face between those thighs and lick your pretty pussy. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” All you could do was vigorously nod your head in response, excessively aware of the fact that Toji had moved the head of his cock so that it was poking at your entrance.

“But what about…ah!” You started, trying to warn Toji that you hadn’t used any protection, but he was already plowing through your wet heat. You tried to quiet your mewls, but couldn’t hold them in as he thrust deep within you. Toji shushed you and buried your head in the crook of his neck.

“You’re so whiny. You’re gonna wake the kid.” You can feel his grin against your skin while he says it, not seeming at all worried about the possibility. In fact, he seemed pleased with himself.

He lifted your leg, folding it against your chest and angled his hips up. You choked back a moan as he hit your g-spot. Toji picked up the pace, thrusting fast and hard into your heat. He felt himself lose all control in the wet, gummy paradise between your thighs. Each thrust felt like he went deeper within you, carving out a space for himself within you. He slid a hand down to play with your clit, rubbing tight circles until you started to feel a familiar tension within your stomach.

“Ah, Toji I’m -“ You whimpered.

“You gonna come for me? Good.” You bit down on your lower lip to try to quiet your noises of pleasure, but he still slaps his hand across your mouth to muffle the noises you couldn’t contain. Finally, the tension snapped like a rubber band and your body flooded with release. He pushed his forehead against yours as he fucked you through your orgasm with deep thrusts that had you nearly shaking with overstimulation.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum.” He hissed, leaning so your foreheads were touching. “I’m not pulling out. You’d be such a good mother, wouldn’t you? You take such good care of my son, maybe I’ll give you one of your own.” Your eyes shot wide open in alarm, shocked that you liked the idea so much. You chanted yes, yes, yes, as you felt him groan and shoot his load deep inside of you. He stayed there for a moment, before slowly pulling his cock all of the way out and pushing his cum back in you. Toji rolls to lay his back on the sofa, grabbing your body and placing you on top of him.

“You’ll have to stay the night. I’m not done with you yet.” He grinned. Somehow, you were completely fine with that. (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

#toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro #jjk fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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hyuukais · 24 days ago

Text

late night

Awoken by a strange noise, you find your night taking an unexpected turn.

word count: 981

genre: werewolf!jeongin x reader, some fluff, sorta kinda slice of life

warnings: kinda suggestive towards the end

author: mmmm save me werewolf man save me please save me…happy halloween!!! 😏 also thank you sm @planetkiimchi for beta-reading this ur amazing 🫶🫶

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The sound permeates through the walls; repetitive and growing quicker. Louder and louder, echoing in the hall, until your body shoots off the bed. Fear rousing your sleeping mind, your heart hammers in your chest as your senses slowly return. Your eyes remain muddled in the darkness but your ears swiftly pick up in the sound beating at your door. Terror runs through you, sharp and cold; ice pumping in your veins. Making as little sound as possible, you reach across the bed—grappling with your phone and the small knife you’ve started keeping in the closest drawer—before tip-toeing through the dark towards the bedroom door. Your hand trembles as it reaches out. Landing on the doorknob and turning it slowly. The lock clicks, your breath weighs on your chest, your hand tightening around the grip of your pocket knife as the crack in the door grows wider. And wider. And wider.

The sweet abyss of your bedroom is slashed with the hallway light seeping in. No killer jumps out at you, no burglar with a gun. Instead, the source of the thumping is quickly found rolled out at your feet. A large, sandy-blond wolf is laying in the doorway, his tail wags having been knocking into the door. As you open the door fully, the canine leaps to his feet, tail picking up its pace and tongue lolling out with soft pants. You deflate upon catching the striking silver eyes before you; the flush of adrenaline leaving your muscles tired and wanting.

You sigh, running a hand over your face, “Jesus christ, Jeongin! You scared the shit of me!”

The werewolf tilts his head at you, eyes unblinking, before moving forward. He presses his cold nose against your leg, nuzzling his soft, wide ears into your pajama pants. You run a hand over your boyfriend’s fur, rumbles akin to purrs vibrating up through his chest. He always gets clingier than usual during full moons, it seems tonight is no exception, especially since he’d been gone for the past two days. Probably off somewhere in the woods digging a hole, dog stuff.

“Wait a minute,” Your hand pulls away from his head. “How’d you get into the apartment?”

He huffs and glances up at you, indignantly. After so long together, you’ve gotten quite good at reading Jeongin’s expressions in wolf-form, and this was clearly an “i’ll explain later” look.

You sigh, “Fine. I’m going back to bed.”

Moving out of the doorway, Jeongin strides in the room, and you close the door in his wake. You turn around to see him leap up onto the bed and curl up beneath the askew sheets.

“That’s gonna be covered in dog hair tomorrow.” The words are mumbled, but he can obviously hear you. Still, you just shake your head and move back to the mattress. Pulling the sheets back up, his intense body heat permeates beneath them. Your hand swirls within the soft tufts of fur along his back and thumb at his ears. In the cold of the autumn night, this soon lulls you back into deep sleep.

Once again, you find yourself being woken up by a disturbance within your room. This time, you crack your eyes open to the soft sunlight of morning peaking through the curtains. You groan and shuffle onto your other side, snuggling into the warm embrace there.

With sleep still overwhelming you, it takes a moment to process the feeling of human hands settling around your waist and tracing lines over your back. Suddenly, your eyes shoot open to quickly meet those of Jeongin. The man gives you a wide smile, dimples sinking into both of his cheeks. Slowly, your memories of last night filter in and your heart rate calms.

“What is it with you and scaring me?” You playfully scowl at him.

He gives a light, gravelly laugh. “I’m not doing it intentionally. You’re just jumpy.”

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes and skim your hand over his side, falling on his back softly. Eyes tracing the dips and edges of his face, you take him in. His bare skin glowing beneath the sun, melting like honey, molten gold. You lean into him, like you may be able to absorb some of his warmth. Take it into your chest and light it on fire. Your lips connect lazily, moving in practiced unison, morning—and dog—breath be damned.

His hands pulled at your hips, caressing the skin underneath your shirt. Jeongin has always run a bit hot, perhaps it’s a werewolf thing, but his skin feels like flames upon you. Surrounding you, overwhelming, lips and bodies melding into one. Your fingers find his waist, curling into his bare skin. The feeling sends a jolt back up your spine and you slowly pull away, catching your breath for a short moment.

Jeongin’s eyes burn into your skin, pupils blown out. Gentle, earth-born eyes broken by silver, heavily lidded. You laugh a little at his almost annoyed expression.

“You need to go put some clothes on.”

“What?” His brows furrow with a pout.

“You shifted back overnight, you need to get dressed.” You push at his chest lightly. “Innie, you know how you get after full moons. Now is not the time.” Your words leave a teasing air but they’re still genuine.

Jeongin rolls his eyes but relents, slipping out of the bed and shuffling over to the closet. You take in the view while you can.

You listen to him rustle around for sweatpants and thought pops into your head.

“Oo, Innie, I was thinking about it the other night, and I came up with an idea for our halloween costumes!”

“Oh really?” He calls back muffled.

“Mhm, I was thinking we should be Edward and Bella! Like from twilight.”

Jeongin emerges, still shirtless, with a dumbstruck look on his face. “You can’t be serious.”

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frvnkcastles · 3 months ago

Note

I'd love to give you and idea for like a part 2 to your reader that struggles with reading and air control? Maybe reader is home alone and frank is out with Matt on rooftopsand matt hears you singing with perfect control and brings frank closer so he can hear? Frank flicks her a text asking if she can fix 3 plates for dinner as he's gonna bring a guest and they come in through the fire escape. Matt's being a flirty prick and it gets Frank's hackles up where he ends up telling him eat and gtfo of our place and the reader just beam

(The reader had a perfect rasp to ding along to Teddy Swims? Please)

BURN A LITTLE BRIGHTER TONIGHT ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Frank brings Matt over for dinner, only to regret it sooner rather than later.

Warnings: Mostly just fluff, jealous Frank, feminine nicknames, language

Word count: 1.6k

Author’s note: Anon, thank you so much for being patient with me, I know I took a long time with this and I do feel really bad about it! I hope you like it <3

Frank was still firmly of the opinion that him and Matt were not friends. But begrudgingly, he had to admit that he had grown to tolerate the guy — enough to invite him over for dinner. The two had been working together for the past couple of nights and despite their differences on how to approach the criminals they had been tracking, they had gotten the job done. In the process Frank had also learned more about Matt than he would have preferred, but upon realizing that the man was a little lonely lately, he reluctantly extended an offer to get some food and beer in him. He could be an asshole, but he considered himself incredibly lucky to share a life with you, and he pitied Matt for not having that same luxury.

He just didn’t realize that bringing Matt to you would involve the man getting overly eager about you.

”Huh, what is it?” Frank queried when Matt suddenly stopped on the rooftop, his head tilted curiously to listen closely, and it got Frank alert in an instant. They had taken care of a bunch of crooks already, but he was prepared to fight some more if necessary, and as much was obvious from the way he quickly reached for his gun.

”Listen”, was all Matt said, not explaining a single thing, and it earned a displeased grunt from Frank. He hated how vague the man could be — especially when he didn’t have the same hyper-sensitive hearing that Matt seemed to flaunt.

But when he gave in and focused, he could hear exactly what Matt had stopped for. It was a singing voice that could only be described as enchanting and impressive… and it belonged to you. Frank had heard you sing the occasional catchy jingle or a few lyrics from your favorite song, enough for him to recognize it, but he had never witnessed it like this. It was so carefree and glorious, with no restraints or worries about anyone hearing, and it made his heart leap in his chest. You always found new ways to amaze him, to make him fall for you just a little harder, and it melted his tough exterior as he listened in.

”That’s my girl”, Frank breathed out, both praising and surprised, his eyes wide and his hand dropping from the gun hidden in the waistband of his pants. He was captivated by your voice, and he almost forgot about Matt next to him, only for the man in red to cut through his daze.

”Does she know we’re on our way?” he asked, and snapping out of his admiration for you, Frank glanced at him.

”Shit, no, I didn’t text her yet. Gimme a moment”, he grumbled, digging out his phone and typing a quick message to you to inform that he was coming home and bringing Matt with him. It had become your little routine to cook for him so he wouldn’t have to start from scratch or eat from a can, and he appreciated it greatly — sometimes, he tried putting up a fight about it, insisting that it wasn’t fair for you to be doing all the work, but you loved taking care of him. Tonight, he hoped, you wouldn’t mind an extra plate at the table.

Only moments after he had sent the message, the singing ceased, and Frank figured you didn’t want to be caught in the act. His heart swelled in his chest, wondering if it would be appropriate for him to bring up your voice because he truly thought it was beautiful. Still, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

You were all smiles when Matt and Frank came in through the fire escape, wiping your hands in a kitchen towel and taking in their appearance in the worry that one of them was injured. Frank could read your face easily, and he was quick to reassure you.

”We’re alright, sweetheart”, he rasped while stepping over to you, cradling your head so he could plant a soft kiss on your forehead. ”Shouldn’t be leavin’ the window open”, he chastised you gently, his tone firm but loving.

You chuckled and squeezed his shoulder. ”I have to, ’cause my boyfriend doesn’t know how to use a door”, you countered, earning a gruff laugh from Frank. As he went to hang up his jacket by the front door, you turned to Matt who was taking off his mask and ruffling his hair. ”I hope you like pasta carbonara, I made plenty for all of us”, you announced with a soft smile.

”It’s perfect. Thank you for having me. You’re very kind”, Matt nodded with gratitude, delighting you. Frank in turn gave him a suspicious look — on one hand, he wanted you to be appreciated, but on the other, he had very little tolerance for anyone, but especially Matt, sweet-talking his girl.

You helped Matt to the dining table and with Frank’s help, got plates for all three of you. You had barely dug into the food when Matt was speaking up again, mentioning the topic that Frank had purposefully dodged for now.

”I must say, you’re a wonderful singer”, he began, and with an open mouth, you glanced between him and Frank, surprised that he had heard you. Then again, he did have a particular talent for catching things most people never would.

”Oh—I—thank you, that’s sweet”, you rambled, caught a little off-guard, and Frank noticed it in your nervous smile.

”Uh, yeah, we heard ya, darlin’. He’s right, though, you’re… you’re real talented. I loved it”, Frank cut in, a genuine look in his eyes. It grounded you, and with a slow nod, you reached for his hand across the table and held on tightly. He could tell you hadn’t been prepared to receive praise on the matter, so he opened his mouth to change the subject, but Matt beat him to it.

”Truly, you’ve got an amazing voice”, he continued, making Frank glare at him in a way that surely he could feel in his bones. But whether or not he did, he still wasn’t done. ”I’m sure it’s as beautiful as the rest of you”, Matt went on with a knowing smirk on his face. Heat crawled to your cheeks and you didn’t really know what to say — Frank, however, had had about enough.

”Alright, quit it, Red. It ain’t your job to make her feel special”, he warned him, zero amusement in his stare as he chomped down some more pasta, perfectly balancing his meal with the mean look in his eyes. He knew you could handle yourself, and with any other guy, he would have let you do just that, but Matt was a different story. He got under Frank’s skin far too easily, sometimes probably on purpose, and he wasn’t going to entertain his little attempts to charm you.

”I’m just saying, Frank’s a very lucky guy to be with you”, he spoke once more, and at that, your boyfriend finally snapped.

”Fuckin’ hell, Red. That’s it. Finish the food and get the fuck out, yeah?” he declared curtly, not taking no for an answer. ”Goddamn, I went out of my way to invite you and you pull this shit…”, he muttered to himself, poking at the food with his fork angrily.

You couldn’t help but smile carefully, touched that Frank was so serious about you, even if you had been seconds away from telling Matt to take it easy and back off. Frank had nothing to worry about, but you still loved seeing how protective he was of you.

The rest of the meal went by in awkward silence, but Matt made sure to thank you once more before leaving. He made so with haste, not wanting to stick around for any longer than necessary in case Frank would punch him out of the door, and you didn’t blame him. The tension in the room was immensely obvious and as soon as Matt had left, you gravitated over to Frank who was scrubbing the dishes with vicious force.

”Think you scared him off for good”, you mentioned, and with a snort, Frank shrugged.

”Good. Teaches him not to flirt with my girl”, he scoffed, putting an amused smile on your face. You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek, which threatened to break his solemn expression.

”You’re cute when you get all jealous”, you noted, and finally, Frank looked over to you, his face telling you that he didn’t like being called jealous. In fact, he didn’t like acting jealous, either, but it seemed Matt brought out the worst in him.

Instead of protesting, Frank returned to another topic. ”Really surprised me with that voice of yours, darlin’. How come I ain’t ever hear you sing like that?” he wondered, dropping the dish brush in the sink and placing both hands on your hips. He pulled you in closer, his tall frame looming over you and his dark eyes full of curiosity and affection for you — clearly, you had managed to burst the angry bubble around him.

You grew shy and shrugged. ”I dunno. It’s just a random thing I do, I guess. I usually do it when I’m cooking or cleaning and most times that happens when I’m home alone”, you explained, and with an understanding nod, Frank reached to brush your hair away from your face.

”I think it’s fuckin’ incredible. You’re amazin’ at everythin’ you do, sweetheart. Would love it if you sang more, y’know? I gotta hear it”, he pointed out, a tender smile touching upon his lips as he looked at you.

”Okay”, you whispered, ”thank you, Frank.” You had been a little embarrassed to be caught singing at first, but hearing Frank say all those things brought your walls down, and it certainly meant a lot more coming from him rather than from Matt.

”Attagirl”, he kissed the top of your head, ”and I ain’t lettin’ that asshole Red hear it again.”

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

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