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muffinpink02 · 2 months

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A First Time For Everything

Anon request - "would you ever write anal with alexia (r!recieving)?"

Yes, yes I would.

Warnings - smut 18

If you were to ask Alexia if she was a boob or bum girl. She would always say bum, especially your bum.

Alexia loved your arse.

She loved the shape of it, the firmness of your muscles, the way it would shake when she fucked you from behind. She would be in a hypnotic trance as she watched your cheeks ripple against her strong thighs while she pushed your body to new heights of pleasure. Her large hands would squeeze and grab your cheeks, almost painfully as she watched her strap slide in and out of your pussy. The skin underneath her hands would turn red from where she held you, a day later you would find small bruises on your cheeks where her finger tips had indented themselves into you.

She loved the way your arse looked in jeans, in shorts, in a sundress, in boxers and thongs. But, her favourite was when your lower half had nothing on at all. You quickly got used to her constantly squeezing, slapping or pinching or on many occasions biting your arse whenever she could, there wasn't a day that went by that she didn't have her hands on your cheeks.

She loved watching your arse as you laid between her legs eating her out. She would groan as you purposefully stuck your backside out, shaking it as you suckled on her sensitive clit. A lot of the time it was what pushed her to her orgasm. A lot of the times you would position yourself to the side of her, so she could grab your arse as you pleasured her. Either with your mouth or fingers. You would arch your back, so she had full access to you. You would go dizzy at the groans she let out as she slapped and groped your arse while you played with her clit.

Alexia was an arse girl, through and through.

So you wasn't surprised when she asked if she could fuck you in that exact spot.

It was after a heated session of sex, Alexia was kissing your back, her lips were everywhere. Slowly but surely her lips travelled down your back, and to her favourite spot.

“You have the perfect arse.” She mumbled as she gave your cheeks all of her attention.

You playfully rolled your eyes, she said those exact words whenever she was near your arse.

“Yeah?” You smiled against the sheets.

“Sí. It's so perfect.” She continued to kiss your skin.

You hummed, closing your eyes at the sweet touches of Alexia’s mouth.

That's when you felt her tongue start to glide over your cheeks, her teeth slowly following, she was gentle at first but that never lasted long, she sank her teeth into your flesh, making you squirm and whimper beneath her. You could feel she was giving you a love bite as her tongue sucked on your flesh.

“That tickles.” You chuckled.

Alexia hummed as she was determined to add to the other colourful bruises she had left on your arse from previous bites. Once she was happy with the mark, she moved on further down your rear. Her hands grabbed your cheeks, gently pulling them apart. That's when you felt her tongue glide up your sensitive flesh. You let out a filthy groan as Alexia began to lather your tight hole with her tongue. She loved eating your arse. At first you weren't keen, but you couldn't deny the feeling of such a sensitive spot on your body being caressed by Alexia's very talented tongue.

“Get on your knees.” She demanded.

And you did, you got on your knees and arched your back. You gripped the sheets as the blonde picked up the pace, you could feel her tongue everywhere, all over you. You could feel your cunt getting wetter from each stroke.

“I want to fuck you.” She groaned.

“You can do whatever you want to me.” You sighed in pleasure.

“In your arse, I want to fuck your arse.”

“Fuccck, Ale.” You whimpered as she bit your cheek. She brought her hand between your legs and started to play with your now swollen clit.

“What do you think baby? I’d be so gentle. I’d make you feel so good. Watching you take my dick.”

She picked up her pace on your clit, making your hips grind into her hand. She continued.

“You would make the best sounds. I can imagine you, begging me for more.”

Her tongue came back to your tight muscle, stroking the sensitive nerve. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as she gently pushed her tongue just a fraction inside.

“Oh my goddddd, Ale.” You couldn't stop the way your hips moved backwards as her tongue rimmed your hole.

Even in the foggy motion of pleasure you imagined Alexia fucking your arse. You couldn't deny that you hadn't thought about it before. The girl was amazing at everything sex. And right now with her tongue between your cheeks you would agree to absolutely anything she asked.

“I want that. I want y-you to fuck my arse.”

Alexia's eyes widened in surprise. “Yeah? You want that?”

“YES!” Two fingers entered your cunt.

“You will let me fuck this tight little hole of yours?”

“Yes. I want it, pleaseee.” Her thick fingers started to pick up the pace, hitting your walls perfectly.

“Such a good girl. You’re so generous, baby. So good to me.”

Alexia put her mouth back on you, softly pushing on your tight walls. Her free hand reached around to play with your clit. It was almost too much, feeling her everywhere, your brain didn't know where to concentrate. You could feel the tight coil in your stomach start to heighten, your back arched just the way Alexia liked. You could hear her tongue lapping behind you, she was pushing you further and further, your vision becoming hazy.

Then you felt it, your legs started to shake, you let out a high pitched scream as your body shook from your orgasm. You maybe would have died from embarrassment if you knew Alexia could feel your tight hole flexing on her tongue. She groaned at the feeling, she was in heaven. Alexia stayed where she was allowing you to come down before moving away. Once she felt you relax she removed her fingers, you collapsed onto the mattress below trying to catch your breath.

Alexia kissed your cheek once more. “I’ll buy the items, we can start to practice tomorrow.” She stated happily. You knew you were in for it.

So over the next two weeks you and Alexia worked on your arse.

Of course you were a little nervous about it. You had tried it with a previous partner and it had been painful, but truth be told you hadn't prepared for it, you went straight in, no lube, no slow finger fucking, no arse traning, so there was no surprise that it wasn't enjoyable.

But Alexia never pushed you into anything you didn't want to do, not that there were many things you didn't want to do with her. Even though she was dominating in the bedroom she always made sure you were comfortable, anything new you tried she would constantly be checking in to make sure you was okay, never wanting to make you uncomfortable.

She started with her fingers, and lots of lube, easing you slowly. You took it well, just like she knew you would. Then came the but plugs, in Alexia's excitement she had bought at least 10 different plugs. In all honesty you believed she just wanted to see the many different variations she could put inside you.

Some were glass, they were cold. Some were rubber, one had a bunny tail that Alexia thought was cute. There was a vibrating one, that was fun. Another had a beautiful black gem at the base, another was a long ribbed anal probe. But Alexia's favourite was the one with an ‘A’ engraved on the base. She loved looking at it while she had you bent over.

And did you like it? Fuck yes! You loved it. It was a whole new sensation for your body to consume, a new part of your body that Alexia could explore. You loved the sensation of feeling your girlfriend fuck you with a strap while you had a plug sitting between your cheeks. You would scream in pleasure when you felt her dick slide against your walls, giving your cunt that extra pressure

Today was that day. You were ready, you were so desperately ready. Alexia had prepared you for 2 weeks, but you was over it by week one, begging her to fuck you, but she made you wait. She said she wanted to make sure you were definitely ready, but really you knew she just liked you begging for something that was her idea.

You were both laying on your bed naked, lazily kissing. She had her hand between your legs stroking your thighs, every now and then she would teasingly circle your clit, making your pussy throb and clench. You would groan every time as your arse also reacted, squeezing around the plug that was sitting between your cheeks. She began to kiss your neck, kissing your sensitive spots, she knew every sensitive spot on your body. You whimpered out as her finger circled your clit again, she was teasing you.

“You ready baby?” She whispered, smirking at you.

“Alexia, you know I've been ready.” You groaned.

She smiled playfully at you, her hazel eyes gleaming with mischief.

“You have, haven't you?” She let out a low chuckle. “You want it so badly.”

You felt your cheeks blush at her words, she wasn't wrong, you did want it, you needed her at this point. She began to slowly kiss down your bare stomach, biting and nibbling your skin. She didn’t wait around; she travelled further down your body, pushing your legs open as she went straight for your cunt.

“Fuck!”

You were already wet, your clit had been throbbing for the last half an hour as Alexia worked your body up. She took a long lick through your wet folds, your essence flooded her tongue as she began to slowly eat you out. Just like her lazy kisses, and her lazy teasing, she clearly wanted to take her time with you. But you were already on edge, your body was vibrating with anticipation.

But you couldn't deny when Alexia was slow and lazy between your legs like this, you could have happily kept her there all night. It was your favourite sexual act with the Spanird, you didn't care if that made you boring, she was amazing with her mouth. She could make you come again and again with her talented tongue.

She licked through your folds slowly, her hazel eyes stayed on yours as she showed off her tongue for you, making sure you could see just how wet you were. Your juices clung to her tongue, shining on the dim light in the room.

“See how wet you are for me baby?”

“Y-yeah. So wet for you.” You breathed out.

She gently pushed her tongue into your core, moaning as you laced your fingers in her hair, helping her get deeper inside you. She stroked your walls, pushing her tongue as far she could, then curling her tongue as she came back up. You could feel the plug in your arse as your body reacted to her tongue stroking your walls.

“Jesus, Ale.” You gasped.

You knew you wouldn't last long, she knew it too, your legs were already shaking, she gently wrapped her kiss swollen lips around your aching clit. You dug your fingers in her hair as your hips began to grind in her face. You cried out as your body started to heat up, the start of your orgasm already hitting you.

“Don't stop, Ale. Please. Fuck, keep going.”

She kept up her pace as you pushed her impossibly closer, your fingers digging her scalp while your climax took over your body. Your back arched when you felt your arse clench around the plug, making your orgasm heighten. You held on to Alexia's blonde hair as she gently cleaned you up. She was always so gentle after you came, trying her best not to over stimulate you but still trying to work your body up to take more. That's how she gave you another orgasm as she suckled softly on your clit, it felt like her mouth was making love to your pussy.

Alexia crawled up your body, smiling lovingly at you, she brought her wet lips to yours, gently gliding her tongue on your lips, asking for access, which you happily gave. You stayed like this for a while, just kissing, moaning, tasting yourself on her tongue. But you wanted her, again.

“Please Ale. I want you so badly.”

You feel Alexia smirk into your kiss. It makes your stomach twist.

“Yeah baby? How bad?” She’s being such a tease.

“So badly. Please Ale. Dont you want to fuck my arse?”

She chuckled deep in her throat. She pulled back and looked down at you, her piercing eyes searching yours.

You continue to beg. “Come on baby. My tight arse needs you, I want you to show me how good you are.” You bite your lip, knowing she couldn't say no to you when you pulled that move. Your hand came up between her legs. The girl was so wet, you stroked your finger through her folds, gathering her juices. Her eyes fluttered closed as you circled her clit.

Her head fell onto your chest as you kept up your rhythm.

“I want your tongue.” She whispered.

She sounded so desperate. You would never deny Alexia anything let alone when she sounded so good, groaning in your neck.

“Sit on my face.”

Alexia didn't need to be told twice, she quickly climbed up your body, carefully placing her thighs either side of your head. The sight above you was probably the most beautiful sight you would ever see. A dripping wet Alexia. Seeing her like this, so desperate and so needy, did things to you, it made your chest swell with pride.

You grabbed her hips and went to work, her fingers gripped your hair as she began to ride your face. Her juices covered your tongue, you swallowed her wetness obediently. You couldnt stop your own groans as she started to fuck your face, she was clearly close already, normally she would last a little longer then this. You suckled her clit, lapping your tongue up and down her folds.

“Sí, sí. M'encanta la teva llengua. Merda!”

She let out a deep cry as her body went stiff, she grabbed the back of your head and grounded into your mouth as deep as she could. Did you nearly suffocate when her strong thighs tightened around your head? Yes, but you weren't about to stop her mid orgasm, not even for air. Her climax flooded your mouth as she tilted her head back in pleasure, her hips snaked against your face as she fully rode out her ecstasy, using your mouth on every inch of herself.

She gave you a dopey smile as she looked down at you. She shuffled backwards, kissing you hard on the lips.

“So good for me. I think you deserve my dick in your arse now, sí?”

You nodded. “Please.”

Alexia climbed off the bed and made her way to your draw of goodies. She grabbed the items she needed and began to pull the harness over her thick, strong legs. You watched as the beautiful woman slotted the 7 inch dick into the contraption, you could feel your arse throbbing at the sight in front of you. She generously slathered the dick in lube, not missing an inch.

“On your knees, baby”

You quickly got into position, you felt Alexia come next to your face, cupping your chin.

“Remember your safe words, use them whenever you need.”

“I will.” You nodded.

“Bona noia.” She smiled as she kissed you.

You felt the bed dip behind you, Alexia’s hand found your waist. She stroked her hands over your cheeks as she admired her view. Her favourite but plug sitting pretty between your cheeks. She began to remove the plug, gently moving it back and forth letting your muscles loosen as she played with the toy.

You let out a groan as she finally removed the plug, your arse was begging to be filled again.

“So pretty.” Alexia hummed.

She grabbed the dick between her legs and began to press it at your hole. She didn't force it in, she was slow and gentle, she moved the head around your tight muscles, allowing you to feel her movements. She did that for a minute before you started to push your hips back, wanting her to pick up the pace.

“Ready baby?”

“Yes.” You nodded.

Then you felt it, the head of her dick slowly being pushed into your arse. Your muscles were loose from the plug being in there already but it didn't stop you from crying out. She went slow, you could feel one of her hands stroking your back soothingly, letting you know she was there. Inch by inch she pushed further in, allowing you to get used to the feeling of her.

“Breath, baby.”

You let out a deep breath, it wasn't painful, it was new, it was different but fuck, was it good. Alexia watched your body like a hawk, making sure she wasn't going too fast, her hands gripped your waist as she eased herself inside. She was just over half way and you felt full.

“Fuck.”

Your head fell between your arms as her dick forced room for itself.

“You already look so good, baby. And I havent even fucked you yet.” Alexia whispered behind you.

She got deeper inside and you took her surprisingly well. You were thankful Alexia had gotten your arse trained for this, though her dick was by far the biggest toy you had taken, you had a little more of an understanding of what to expect.

You heard Alexia softly sigh behind you at the same time you felt her hips hitting your cheeks. She had bottomed out in your arse.

“So good. I knew you would be good at this. Look how well you’ve taken me.”

By the sound of her voice you knew you were going to be wrecked by the end of this, you couldn't miss the undeniable excitement in her tone.

Then she slowly started to ease out, not all the way, but enough for it to make you whimper. You closed your eyes as you felt her dick glide against your tight walls, then back in again and again and again. That’s when the blonde found a slow rhythm, she watched as the glistening dick pumped in and out of your hole. She was in her own world, her hands squeezing your cheeks, helping to guide your movements on the plastic.

You groaned loudly when she gave you a particular hard squeeze. She looked up at you, smiling at your noises.

“You sound so good.”

“You feel so fucking good, Ale.” You groaned in pleasure.

That's when she began to pick up her pace.

“Yeah? You like it don’t you? Merda. I knew you would.”

Her thrust became harder, you gripped the sheets as Alexia fucked your arse. Your breathing started to pick up to quick gasps as she fucked the air out of your lungs. Alexia wasn't an idiot, she knew she couldn't feel the sensation of being inside you, but the sight alone was enough to make her come.

You were a mess of moans. The Spaniard rocked into your body like she owned it, her hand that was placed on the bottom of your back began to creep higher up your spine. That's when you felt your hair being slightly pulled back. Alexia knew it was one of your turn on’s. She pulled it lightly, testing the waters, you groaned in appreciation, giving the blonde more confidence to go rougher, just the way you liked it.

“You are such a slut. She growled. “You love this don’t you? You love me stretching you out.”

You didn't have words. You could just about focus on breathing as she pushed your body to new heights. She was hitting spots that sent shivers through your body.

“Fill up your pussy.”

You groaned at her demand. Alexia had planned this whole affair to a T, obviously. She had your favourite dildo on the bed ready for this moment. You grabbed the plastic, and placed it between your legs. Alexia slowed down her movements so you could actually focus. You brought the dick between your legs, trying to get it in the right spot, but in your position you were finding it a little difficult. You then felt Alexia's hands wrap around yours as she helped guide you to your destination.

“Let me help.” She chuckled, almost teasingly.

She easily found the spot she was looking for. You felt her push the head of the dick against your lips, then into your entrance, she was gentle, knowing your body was already sensitive. But that didn't stop the gasp that escaped your lungs, you were tight. With Alexia already filling up your arse, you could feel every inch of the dildo against your walls, and so could Alexia.

“Fuck.” She growled, she sounded like a wild animal. “You’re so tight.”

You both groaned for different reasons as she pushed the rest of the plastic inside you, bottoming out in you.

“Hold it. I want you to come with it inside you.”

You nodded. “Please, Ale.”

“You are so good for me.” She grunted as she began to fuck you again.

Her hand came back into your hair, pushing your head against the sheets below, driving herself deeper inside your arse, her other hand leaned into the middle of your shoulders, forcing your back to arch. Your body began to heat up, you could feel the sweat dripping down your back from the workout Alexia was giving your body. Your pussy was clenching at every thrust, you could feel your wetness covering your fingers at the base of the dick.

The pure pleasure of it all made you feel dizzy, your orgasm was approaching fast, you just desperately needed your neglected clit to be touched. If only you could have seen your girlfriend. The sight of Alexia alone would have probably tipped you over the edge, her body was starting to gleam with sweat, like she had played a 90 minute game, her 6 pack clenching hard at every thrust. She had a focus on her face that was intimidating, you had seen that face in the bedroom and on the pitch, she was in her own world.

“Ale, I-I wanna c-come.”

“I'm close, baby. Hold on a little longer.” She panted.

You tried to nod with Alexia's hand on your head. Your other hand gripped the sheets as she picked up her pace. You couldn't stop the mess of moans and cries as you were pushed to your peak. But your sounds only pushed Alexia closer, she wasn't expecting to come, but the base of the strap was hitting her swollen clit perfectly, and the sight of you only made the pleasure a thousand times better.

Her mouth hung open as she felt her own orgasm rise, her legs started to shake. The hand between your shoulder blades came between your legs, the scream you let out was loud. Your clit was already so sensitive, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as Alexia pleasured you like the sex goddess that she was.

“Fuck, y-you sound so good. Are you going to come for me?”

You didn't respond verbally, you physically couldn't, your eyes began to water as your body was pushed to its limits, you needed to come.

“A-Ale. Pl-ple-.” You sounded so desperate.

“Beg me.”

Fuck, you could even form words, let alone a sentence.

You felt the first tear roll down your cheek into the mattress as your body screamed for a release. Her beautiful fingers rubbing your clit with the perfect precision. You used all your strength to beg her.

“Please, please let me come.”

“More.” You could hear she was close.

“I’ve been so good. I-I I’m your good slut. I’m your good girl.”

“Fuck. You are, aren't you baby?”

Her hips started to shake. The grip on your hair became tighter. Her fingers never stopping.

“Yes. Fuck, Aleixa. Please.”

She gritted her teeth as she felt her own orgasm rise.

“Come for baby.”

With a few more thrust and another tight pull of your hair, you were gone. You weren't sure if you made any sound, the thumping of blood rushed in your ear as your body finally found release. Your whole body shook violently as your holes clenched around both dicks. Alexia groaned when felt the way your arse pulled her in, just as she came against you. It was perfect.

You both panted hard, trying to catch your breath. Her hand in your hair stroked away the sweaty tresses stuck to your rosy cheeks.

She pulled out gently, kissing each of your cheeks as she moved from behind you. You pulled the dick from your pussy as you let your tired body flop to the mattress. You looked over at a very giddy looking Alexia, smiling happily at you.

“I love you.” She whispered.

You broke out into your own smile. “I love you too.”

“I was talking to your ass.” She laughed.

“Alexia!” You tiredly slapped her thigh.

She kissed you, laughing to herself. “I love you too amor.”

#woso community #woso #woso fanfics #woso smut #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas x reader #alexia x reader #alexia putellas

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fangswbenefits · 11 months

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Devotion

Summary: You give yourself to Miguel, and he's about to show you what complete devotion looks and feels like.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x spider-woman!reader

Word count: 6.5k

18+. Miguel POV. Reader POV. V*rginity loss. Cr*ampie. F*ngering. C*mplay. Org*sm denial. After care. Edg*ng. Br*eding k*nk. Mentions of pregnancy.

Part 1. Previous Part.

Thank you so much to @ancientbeing10 for the help with the Spanish 🩷

Miguel had scooped you up in his arms effortlessly and carried you to his bedroom, slowly placing you on his bed.

He then leaned in to place a kiss to your temple, sending a shiver down your spine.

You tilted your head back, hoping to have his lips on yours once instead.

The truth was that you were absolutely smitten by him. Relationships are often complicated. People are complicated. Miguel was a complex person, and yet, you felt drawn to him.

You could still remember the first time you realised your feelings for him transcended those of a regular friendship.

It had begun with him looking after you in the lab. It had been innocent and fleeting enough, but the heart works in strange ways. The way he was so adamant about you having to take care of yourself awoke in you a feeling that you were seldom presented with:

Affection.

His lips hovered over yours, snapping you from your thoughts, and you brought a hand to the side of his face. "Please kiss me…"

Even through the darkness that engulfed his room, you could still spot a faint smile.

And he did as you requested.

Your back arched nearly instantly, seeking more of him. Even though your body had barely recovered from your orgasm, you felt desire flare inside you at an alarming rate.

He quickly deepened the kiss by parting your lips with his experienced tongue, and you eagerly let him in, moving your hand to the back of his neck, yanking him closer.

Nearly losing balance, Miguel placed both hands on either side of you for support, settling in between your legs.

A moan rose in your throat, and you broke the kiss at the feeling of your clit throbbing, as the underside of his cock settled between your folds.

"We can stop."

You stared into his crimson eyes. "Do you want to stop?"

He pressed a fleeting kiss to the corner of your mouth. "This isn't about me."

Oh.

Desire had clouded your mind, almost making you forget that you were still very much inexperienced. But you still craved the fluidity and eagerness of couples who already knew their way around each other's bodies… with no virginity in the way.

Truth be told, if there was anyone who you'd give yourself to, it would be Miguel O'Hara.

You wouldn't utter these words out of fear of sounding ridiculous at best, and desperate at worst.

"I want more…" you whispered instead, rolling your hips and causing his cock to slide along your clit.

He moaned, but gripped your hip to a halt with strong fingers. "Are you on birth control?"

The question caught you momentarily off guard, and you blinked. "What?"

"If you want to continue… I have to know."

"Yes—Yes, I have an implant."

Hormonal imbalance had been the sole reason, though. Irregular periods accompanied by terrible cramps had taken a toll on you.

Pregnancy had been the farthest thing on your mind.

Miguel groaned lowly before burying his face in your neck, lips caressing your flushed skin, which caused your hips to jolt into him.

He immediately hissed from the sudden friction, and began to match your tempo deliciously slowly.

You bit your lip, not wanting to moan embarrassingly loudly with each slide of his cock against your clit.

He quickly grazed his thumb across your lower lip, releasing it from your teeth's grasp. "Please… let me hear you…"

The plea mixed with his gentle touch was enough to have your mouth part in a whimper.

"Louder."

Your eyes fluttered shut once the tips of his fangs began to poke your skin, and you couldn't hold back the loud moan that erupted from your throat.

Wet sounds and sticky sounds echoed all around you, as you began to drip, adding more and more layers of your own wetness around his cock.

Ambient lights were suddenly switched on, an orange and yellow gradient filling your field of vision.

Miguel brought his lips to your cheek. "Are you sure you want this?"

You sank your fingers into his soft hair, arching your back slightly, your nipple piercings digging into the taut muscles of his chest.

In reality, you were terrified. Miguel seemed to be on the thicker side than what you had expected, and you didn't see yourself taking more than one of his fingers, so his cock definitely overwhelmed you.

Would it hurt? Would he be gentle? Would you even enjoy it?

The preconception that having sex for the first time was a painful ordeal was engraved into your subconscious. Growing up, you had heard some scary recounts of first times from your friends.

But you were still clinging on to the hope that Miguel knew what he was doing.

So you took a deep breath, staring into his eyes. "I'm sure…"

He shifted to press a kiss to your forehead. "You can tell me to stop if it gets too much," he murmured. "And I will."

You had no doubt he would.

But it still made your heart speed up, and an uneasy feeling spread throughout your body rather quickly.

He reached over you to grip one long pillow and eased it under you until your back pressed against it, angling your torso so your eyes could be met with the sight of his cock dripping precum.

Now you understood why he had turned the lights on.

Then, you heard a click and stared as he removed his dimensional travel watch, placing it on his bedside table.

Oh.

Your soaked folds were wrapped snugly around him, and you gasped as you spotted your swollen clit peeking from under his cock.

"Does that feel good?" Miguel asked, voice strained.

You could only stare in complete and utter fascination, as he kept dripping more and more precum, the droplets eventually running down along your folds.

"Yes… you're really…" you paused briefly, completely transfixed with the amount of precum. "Is it normal for you to…"

Miguel's eyes followed your line of sight, and he chuckled upon realising what you meant.

"With you, yes."

His bluntness had your walls clench instinctively around nothing in anticipation.

He then raised his hips and you watched as strings of precum mixed with your wetness dangled from his cock, before he kneeled at your side, slowly dipping the mattress.

You were about to protest at the loss of contact, but he immediately silenced you with a hungry kiss, drawing a couple of whimpers from you.

The taste of him had become so familiar to you by now, that it served to soothe your frustration and impatience.

Your hand tapped around blindly until it found what it was looking for.

Wrapping your fingers tightly around his hard cock, you tugged gently, and Miguel quickly broke the kiss with a delicious hiss. "Fuck…"

The heat pooling between your legs was becoming unbearable and, with each throb of your clit, uncertainty gave way to burning desire.

"Miguel… please…"

He pecked your cheek. "I need you ready for me."

You pouted in response. "I am."

He then brought his lips to your ear, whispering softly, "Can you take more than one of my fingers, then?"

Your heart faltered once you felt one hand trail down from your neck, caressing your hardened nipples, before traveling down until it reached your swollen clit.

"Can you, sweet girl?"

That term of endearment had begun to grow on you, and it almost made you moan out your answer.

"I think… I think so," you said, trying to muster your confidence.

He then pressed a kiss to the pulse point on your neck.

You watched as he traced your clit with his middle finger, coating it in your wetness. The view was hypnotic and you stifled a moan as he rubbed at your entrance once, before plunging the finger inside.

As if seeking an immediate anchor, you gripped his cock tighter, feeling beads of precum steadily spreading across your hand.

"Easy, cariño… not so tight."

This wasn't even considered dirty talking, but it was enough to have you buck your hips against him, and he eased inside easily, burying himself knuckle-deep.

Crimson eyes watched your every reaction attentively, and you gasped as the heel of his palm pressed down on your throbbing clit.

"Tell me how it feels," Miguel cooed, sliding in and out of you at a torturous pace. "I need to know."

You hummed in response, trying your best to ride his finger through throaty whimpers.

He paused abruptly. "Use your words."

You snapped your half-hooded eyes to him. "It feels good… really go-" the word died in your mouth as he began pumping into you once again.

He unclasped your fingers from around his cock. "I know you're eager, but if you keep touching it like that I won't last…"

You were sticking out your lower lip in a silent plea, but decided to bring your precum-soaked hand to your breasts, letting the warm liquid drip onto your nipples, earning an approving growl from Miguel.

"Do you think you can take a second one?" he asked, bending over to swipe his tongue across one nipple. "You set the pace."

The sight of him tasting himself on you was the most erotic thing you had ever experienced, and you immediately nodded, just so you could feel his tongue again.

Suddenly, you felt a second digit probing at your entrance, and you couldn't keep your chest from heaving rapidly at the stretch.

Miguel shifted closer to you, catching your eyes in his. "Relax, cariño… you're doing great."

You tried. You really did try to stop your walls from tightening around his fingers, but your body was moving involuntarily at the sudden intrusion.

He placed a reassuring kiss on your cheek. "Nearly there…"

A raspy whimper parted your lips and you allowed yourself to relax ever so slightly, until he was buried as deep as he could.

The discomfort of the stretch turned into impatience, and you rolled your hips, seeking more and more friction.

"More…" you mumbled desperately.

Your eyes dropped to the mesmerising motion of both fingers sliding in and out, glistening with your wetness, as your swollen clit peeked from between your folds.

Wet sounds filled your ears and your head fell back once his palm pressed against your clit. Miguel immediately took advantage of this angle, and had his lips on your neck, sacking gently.

The familiar coil in your lower abdomen warned you that you were nearing the point of no return. The delicious friction mixed with his thick fingers fucking you at a steady pace.

"You're so close…"

You bit down on your lip so hard you feared drawing blood. At this point, you didn't trust yourself to utter any words, and chose to lose yourself in the blissful moment.

Miguel took your hand in his and had your fingers wrap around his cock once again with a hiss. He was so thick and hard and warm and leaking so for you.

"Let me fuck your hand…" he growled into your neck, snapping his hips. "Just… squeeze harder…"

You eagerly gripped him tighter, feeling strings of precum sliding down your wrists as he matched his hips with the tempo of his fingers inside you.

"Miguel… Miguel…" you managed to moan as you neared the precipice.

His lips were on yours all of a sudden, and you crumbled under his touch, whimpering into his mouth as his tongue found yours.

You were so close.

So deliciously close.

"You’re doing so good," he praised you over and over again.

Your back arched reflexively as the blissful turbulence of an orgasm began to wash over you.

And then, it was gone.

Your peak never came and your moans immediately died in your throat.

Confusion took a violent hold on you, as you slumped into the pillow and mattress underneath you.

Miguel had removed himself from you entirely, and you were left clenching around nothing, mourning the loss of his touch.

"Miguel…why?!" you protested, as you felt tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

You dropped your hand from his cock to grip the sheets, hoping to rein in your frustration in between sobs.

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding truthfully. "I want you to come around my cock, cariño…" he added, before kissing your quivering lips.

You wanted to be mad at him for denying you of your pleasure, but he managed to gain a nod from you instead.

The mattress dipped around you and even through closed eyes, you could tell he was positioned right between your legs.

He then brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting you. You felt slightly taken aback, not expecting him to do this.

"You taste really good."

You laughed nervously. "I do?"

His lips tugged upwards. "Don't take my word for it, then."

He brought two glistening digits to your lips and you immediately took them in, savouring yourself on him.

You sucked on him for a moment, enjoying how he looked so smitten by it.

He pressed your tongue flat with his fingers, before sliding out, saliva dangling from the tips.

"You're so hot."

That compliment threw you for a loop, and you immediately looked away, not quite feeling like you deserved it.

He cradled your face with his hands. "Look at me."

Slowly, but surely, your eyes met his as you tried to even out your laboured breaths.

"You are. You are beautiful."

Your heart clenched and you were left speechless at how genuine he sounded.

You felt like you could cry from this. You didn't cry easily, but his words always found a way to tug at your heartstrings like no one had ever managed to.

He craned his neck to press a soft kiss to your wet lips, and you felt his cock resting against your throbbing clit.

"Are you sure of this?"

"I am. Please, Miguel…"

He caressed your cheeks with his thumbs. "I'm not going to last long," he whispered softly. "But neither are you."

The jab at your stolen orgasm had you pouting at him.

He groaned in response. "Try to relax as much as you can, okay?"

You swallowed hard with a determined nod. "Okay."

You felt his cock slide along your soaked folds, grazing your clit, before you felt a small pressure at your opening.

Instinctively, you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the pain and discomfort.

But Miguel kept his hold on your face with one hand. "Please look at me…"

You took a deep breath and mustered the strength to stare into his crimson eyes.

"I've got you," he promised, brushing his knuckles across your heated cheek.

And you believe him.

Even when you felt the tip being pushed slowly into you, your breath caught. Your gaze faltered and your mouth fell open in a strained gasp. You felt his other hand press flat against your thighs, and you spread your legs as much as possible, hoping it would be enough to ease him in.

"Breathe…"

You slowly let out a shaky breath, realising he had stopped.

"Are you okay?"

No.

You wanted to be, but you could feel yourself tense up and you brought your hands to claw at his back, feeling the muscles underneath his skin flex as he adjusted himself.

But you still nodded. You wanted to be done with this. First times can be tricky, but you would have to keep your fear of pain at bay until the worst had come and come.

He pushed his hips into you again, and the stretch had you holding your breath again, as a sharp sting tore through your entire body.

You didn't dare breathe.

Your chest became so tight it ached, and you felt the familiar tension in your eyes, as the first tears began to blur your vision.

"Stop… please…" you begged, tapping on his back.

He immediately halted, his face softening. "Do you want me to pull out?"

You shook your head, the motion causing one tear to slide down from the corner of your eye. He captured it with his lips, a silent reassurance that he would take care of you.

Deep down, you feared he might be turned off by your hesitancy. You were sure he wanted to go deeper and faster, but the discomfort was gripping you hard.

"How much…" you sobbed, staring down at the length of your body to find where the two of you were connected. "... is it almost there?"

Miguel smiled warmly at you. "Nearly there, sweet girl."

Your lungs expanded with a deep inhale and you sighed through your nose. "Go…"

You dug your nails into his skin as he slid deeper inside, drawing a sharp gasp from you. This time, you had to bite down on your lip again, feeling Miguel's unwavering stare on your face.

"Tell me to stop, and I will."

But you didn't want him to stop. Not now. Not when you were so close to being filled to the brim with him. No amount of pain or discomfort would take that away from you now.

He was being so gentle and caring, assuring that you were the priority here.

And you wanted this to be on equal grounds, soon.

His pleasure would be yours.

Your pleasure would be his.

He was kissing every single tear away, whispering praises, and you knew he was fully buried inside, once he stopped moving again.

This time, you felt him shudder under your touch, breath coming out in shallow pants.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice raspy and shaky.

"Yes."

You would be soon.

The pain hadn't been as bad as you had expected and once you began to relax, you could feel the remnants of it slowly fading.

The two of you remained still for a few more seconds, with only the erratic breathing keeping you company.

"I'm not going to last long," he confessed, burying his face in the curve of your neck. "Can you relax a bit more?"

You tried to drain the tension from your muscles, and you immediately felt his cock twitching inside you.

He was so deep...

"Please move," you asked, ready for what was to come.

Miguel inhaled sharply, and you felt him drag it out slowly, earning a few pained whimpers from how thick he was.

Before you could take a deep breath, he slammed slowly into you.

Your clit was swelling up again and you knew he had bottomed out again when you felt his balls press into you.

But you needed more. You needed to feel more.

"Can you go faster…"

He dragged his fangs along your shoulder. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. Please…" you begged.

Miguel set a slow pace at first, and you heard the wet sounds of your pussy clenching around him, which had him groan with each thrust.

Your gaze was on how his cock reappeared only to disappear back inside you, visibly struggling to move past your tightness.

"So good… fuck…así… no pares," you heard him mumble mindlessly each time he pushed all the way back into you.

You managed to snake one hand in between your bodies, and you immediately gasped as the tips of your fingers slid past your clit only to finally touch his slippery cock.

His pace quickened slightly, and he removed your hand with his, pressing down on your pulsing clit.

"Just… just like that…" you whimpered breathlessly.

You arched into him, your pierced nipples digging into his chest, and he suddenly stilled.

"I need you to come first," he rasped, drawing circles around your clit. "Please… please…"

There was something incredibly riveting about having Miguel O'Hara begging. Such a strong and serious man, was now on top of you, completely taken by how you milked his cock, and how close he was

His thumb left your clit, and he pulled his torso away from you and moved back, pressing your legs together with both hands and pushing your knees into your chest.

The new position nearly pushed you over the edge, as your walls pressed further around his cock. His thumb was on your clit in an instant, and you moaned and whimpered, gripping the sheets with both hands, holding on for dear life, as he skilfully brought you closer and closer to the edge.

"Come for me… clench around me, cariño," he urged desperately.

You heard the sound of fabric tear as your grip tightened around the bedsheets, plunging you into a blinding orgasm. Your vision blurred and you arched your back, feeling rhythmic contractions ripple across your walls, gripping his cock hard.

As your chest heaved rapidly with a rush of adrenaline, you felt him slam into you only twice before reaching his own peak.

"Mierda, te sientes tan bien… carajo," he mumbled in between groans, as he buried himself as deep as possible, finally spilling himself inside.

Even through the numbness of your orgasm, you could feel his cock twitching inside you, filling you with a burst of warmth.

Beads of sweat poured from your skin, and you felt completely spent by the time he finally slid out of you. A whimper escaped your lips once he was fully out, and your walls involuntarily clenched.

You felt him slide his cock along your folds a few times, the added friction on your oversensitive clit making your jolt.

He released his hold on your legs, and you let them flop down, feeling something beginning to seep out of you.

"Wait here," he said as he slid out of bed and pressing a sloppy kiss on your parted lips.

You remained still for a few seconds, before curiosity got the best of you, prompting you to slide your band in between your legs.

A warm liquid began to coat your fingers and you propped yourself on one elbow, watching in awe as your clit and folds were covered in his cum.

You dragged a small quantity from your entrance and brought it to your lips, eager to finally taste it.

Its saltiness and warmth invaded your mouth and collected it with your tongue, slowly swallowing all of it.

"Does it taste good?"

Your eyes widened slightly as you found Miguel standing next to you, fully naked. He was a complete marvel of muscle and beauty, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks as his burning gaze bore into you.

He had a towel in his hand, and slowly kneeled on the floor, tapping his finger to your jaw to have you fully face him.

Miguel was so very handsome. It was almost criminal. Sweat-damp strands of thick hair covered his forehead and you brought your free hand to brush some of them aside.

"Does it taste good, cariño?"

You smiled innocently, removing your fingers from your mouth. "You can taste it yourself."

Miguel's lips met yours and his tongue slipped past them hungrily. Your eyes fluttered shut and you pushed some of his cum with your tongue into his.

He eventually broke the kiss and you felt the soft fabric of the towel being softly pressed to your forehead.

Some drops of cum coated his gorgeous lips and you found yourself unable to look away from his face.

"Let me take care of you."

Affection and devotion.

You nodded as exhaustion slowly weighed down your body.

His lips curled into a faint smile and you mimicked him. "What?"

"You're so… perfect," he drawled out, sliding the towel down the side of your face and neck.

You giggled. "Is this a post-sex thing?"

He arched an eyebrow, looking very serious all of a sudden. "You're doubting me?"

Your smile faded slowly. "Oh, I just… I… don't think I'm perfect. No one is."

Miguel pressed his lips together, his gaze shifting to your breasts as he continued to pat the sweat away.

"You are to me," he mumbled.

You had heard so much about love over the years, and thought Tom had been the personification of it in your life. Even after what had happened between you two, you never doubted he was the one who had gotten away.

But now?

You weren't so sure anymore.

And it wasn't because Miguel was so easy to offer you compliments and praises. That was easy to do. It was much harder to be stricter with those one cared about, and Miguel didn't hold back from grounding you when you needed the most.

After all, he managed to get a hold of your heart with the way he took care of you.

Just like he was doing so now.

He reached in between your legs, and you jolted from the surprise.

"Was I too rough?" he asked, uncertainty dripping from his low voice.

You shook your head. "You were perfect."

His crimson eyes met yours and you smiled warmly, allowing him to clean the cum mixed with your own wetness.

"You said no one is perfect."

"I'll make an exception for you," you said, feeling your eyelids grow heavier and heavier.

He leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek, and your vision darkened as your breathing steadied. You faintly felt more cum drip out, which Miguel quickly wiped, and vaguely wondered how much was still left inside you.

But your thoughts were cut off by your drowsiness, feeling exhausted and as you lay limp on the mattress.

You were almost dozing off when you heard his voice. "Want to take a shower?"

A grumble left your throat. "Later… I'm so tired."

"I'll carry you."

For the second time that night, Miguel took you in his arms with little to no effort, and sauntered into his bathroom, occasionally pressing loving kisses to your face.

You had looped your arms around his neck for support and groaned lightly as he stepped into the shower, tepid water hitting your skin gently.

"Can you stand?"

"Yes, yes…" you said, fighting through a yawn and landing on your feet and easing your hold around him.

Miguel silently washed your back witj both hands, and you were able to feel more cum drip from inside you, blending in with the running water.

You pressed your forehead to the tile as he moved the wet piece of cloth in between your legs, and you flinched away.

"Did I hurt you?"

"It's just a bit sore…" you breathed out, reaching down to touch your numb clit. "It's fine… don't worry."

You then turned around to face him and tip-toed to place a wet kiss to his jaw.

Adoration didn't even begin to cover how you felt about this man.

Maybe he would be your first 'I love you'.

Maybe.

- 2 months later -

Miguel shot his laser-like string of web to the side wall of glass that led to his apartment.

The window was open, and he smiled to himself.

You were home.

He flung himself upwards, the opening presenting itself as the perfect entryway, and he swung through it, landing gracefully on the tiled floor.

His digital mask vanished, and he ran a hand through unruly hair.

Immediately, his senses were hit with the familiar smell of freshly cooked empanadas, and he immediately smiled as you entered the kitchen, specks of flour resting on your cheeks.

"Hey, you," you greeted sweetly.

"Hey."

He closed the gap between you two in an instant, taking your face in his hands.

"Are these empanadas all for myself?"

Your eyes fell to his lips. "Depends."

He dusted off some of the flour with his thumb, raising an eyebrow. "On what?"

"Payment."

"Oh, really?"

You hummed, bringing your lips so close to his, he could feel your breath fanning them lightly.

"What sort of payment, sweet girl?"

He could almost taste you, and his heart jolted in his chest.

It seemed that he was doomed to having your presence have this permanent effect on him. No matter how much time passed, he could not get accustomed to the hold you had on him

"One kiss."

He quickly complied, tasting your sweetness.

You were quick to break the kiss, however. "And… promise you won't be upset."

At this, he felt a faint scowl settle on his face. "What did you do?"

The reply to his question came in the form of Peter B. Parker waltzing into the kitchen, with an empanada stuffed in his mouth.

He waved and tried to speak, but his voice only came out muffled and intelligible.

Miguel's scowl deepened and he glared at you, earning an innocent shrug.

"Peter and MJ are visiting, and I thought it would be nice to invite them over," you said endearingly, offering him a napkin.

Peter beamed. "Thank you! And Miguel… not a surprise to see you here," he added, wiggling his eyebrows.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he grumbled.

MJ walked in with Mayday clinging to her shoulder. "Hey, Miguel!"

He inwary winced, already anticipating an upcoming headache. In all honesty, he just wanted to spend some time with you after arriving from a mission, and now…

"MJ," he greeted flatly, before patting Mayday on the head, her curls bouncing lightly.

She stuck out her tongue in response before breaking into laughter.

"He's not even using doors anymore, Peter," MJ started with a devious smile. "It's serious."

Peter nodded, taking Mayday into his hands. "Definitely serious."

Miguel's scowl deepened further and he watched as you laughed nervously.

The two of you hadn't told anyone about your relationship. Miguel would rather keep it that way.

Why?

Because this was the result, and it annoyed him to no end.

"Oh, wipe that frown off your face, Miguel O'Hara," MJ scolded. "Everyone knows about you two, already."

"What?"

Peter quickly brought Mayday to him. "Here, hold her. It will calm you down!"

Miguel reflexively took her in his arms, but kept his gaze on MJ. "What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes, joining your side, as you began to clean off the counter. "All the missions together… always coming in together… spending time at the lab," she continued, listing off everything with each finger. "Peter and Jessica told me all about it."

Anger flared inside him briefly, but it quickly plummeted as defeat took over.

"Just a coincidence."

MJ shrugged. "Sure."

Mayday sat on his shoulder, tugging gently at a few strands of his hair, giggling. He winced in pain and removed her from him in an instant, holding her far away from him.

You turned to him and moved to grab her from his grip, pressing her adoringly against your chest. "Don't worry, Mayday. He's just a little bit grumpy, but he's a cutie, too!"

His scowl softened at the sight of Mayday melting into your touch.

You really were a natural at this...

"You're the cutest, though," you whispered in her ear, and she immediately gave you an ear-to-ear grin.

MJ was glaring intensely at him with a knowing smile, and he cleared his throat.

The last thing he needed was them realising how he yearned to be a father, with you carrying his children.

"You're so good with Mayday," Peter praised, stealing another empanada from the plate, and earning a death glare from Miguel who considered hiding them away. "Imagine Mayday and Jessica's kid having another friend to play with!"

Your eyes widened lightly. "Oh! I… I think…"

Miguel wanted to catapult Peter through the window, but he wouldn't do so in front of his wife and child. He always found a way to be inconvenient, and even though Miguel agreed with him on this, he couldn't let it show.

Out of spite.

MJ motioned for him to cut it off, and the two of them walked out, leaving a babbling MJ with you.

You chuckled. "They're good fun, right?"

No.

But he wouldn't dispute that with you, because this was what you did. You adored making people around you feel included and your love language definitely spoke louder.

As you rocked Mayday against your chest, lulling her into a peaceful silence.

"Actually, I have something for you," you whispered with a smile.

Miguel's brow quirked again. "Please don't tell me Hobie Brown is about to burst through the ceiling."

His remark caused you to stifle a giggle. "No, but he might pop up later today."

Miguel's face hardened again.

"I'm kidding, Mr. Grumpy," you said, pointing to an envelope on the table. "Open it."

He glared suspiciously at you before shifting his attention to the piece of paper. Once he unsealed it, he peered closely at what was inside.

A small plastic rod.

His eyes widened and his lips parted.

That was…

"Yeah. I had my implant removed," you said, standing close to him. "The spider-doctor told me to wait out for my next cycle, but…" You began rubbing Mayday's back as she dozed off with a yawn. "Pregnancy can happen earlier than that if we try…"

Miguel was too perplexed to say anything.

You were indeed aware of his breeding kink, and he would gladly give you as much time as you needed. Even if you ended up deciding not wanting to have children, he would be more than fine with that decision.

He was too in love with you to push you beyond your comfort zone.

And yet… here you were, willingly fulfilling his wishes.

"Say something," you said, nudging his arm with yours.

He swallowed, finally meeting your eyes. "You didn't have to…"

You nodded. "But I want to, Miguel. And I know you want it, too."

There was no denying it. The past few months had been torturous at times. Each time he fucked you raw and spilled inside you, knowing fully well nothing would come of it. Witnessing his seed going to waste would torment him.

He pressed his hand to your head and pulled you against him, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Te amo."

You lifted your head to stare at him. "I love you, too."

- A couple of weeks later -

Miguel stormed into the lab later that afternoon, needing a refill of his serum.

But he didn't expect to see you still there, sitting on a chair, and tapping at the screen in front of you.

"What happened?"

Your head turned and he was met with tired eyes. "Oh, I was wondering if you could draw some blood."

Alarm bells chimed inside his head right away and he was quickly in front of you, scanning your face for any signs of distress.

"I'm okay, Miguel," you assured him with a faint curl of your lips. "Just want to check something."

You sounded off.

So he quickly gathered what he needed to comply with your request, always eyeing you from the corner of his eye.

He came to sit next to you and motioned his fingers so you'd lay out your arm for him.

"Did something happen?" he pressed again, pulling the sleeve of your lab coat upwards.

You shook your head, gaze dropping to his hands.

He wasn't convinced in the slightest, but decided to give you some space, offering a respectful silence.

Hi fingers tapped your skin, tied a latex glove just above your elbow as a tournique, seeking a bulging vein.

"It's funny…" you said with a sigh.

Miguel lifted his eyes briefly, finding yours staring right back at him. "What is?"

The faintest tug at the corner of your lips had him relax slightly.

"The first time I met you… you also drew my blood for testing," you said, and your tone told him you held the memory of it fondly. "And now, here we are again."

"Under different circumstances, I'm sure."

"Better ones."

He was unsure of what you meant by that, so he dropped his eyes to your arm again. Once he found what he was looking for, he punctured the soft barrier of skin, watching as the vial in between his fingers filled with liquid.

As he withdrew from you and pressed a pad to the wound, a weird feeling began to loom over him.

Could it be that...

He eyed you curiously, hoping for you to confirm his suspicions, but you remained silent.

"Apply some pressure," he asked, and you nodded, your fingers replacing his.

Scooting over to the analysis machine, he placed the vial inside and watched the liquid being sucked inside.

"Why do you need your blood tested?"

You shrugged, but he could sense you were holding something back.

By the time the first results began to appear on the hovering screen, he scanned them, looking for an outlier.

It didn't take long for it to show up.

Miguel's heart lurched as the confirmation hit him, and he checked it twice, but there was no mistake.

< hCG (mIU/ml) - 145 >

The human chorionic gonadotropin was colloquially referred to as the pregnancy hormone, and its level could inform how far along a pregnancy was.

This value had Miguel guess you were around three weeks.

"Why didn’t you tell me right away?" he managed to ask, swallowing the lump in his throat.

He felt you looping your arm around his, resting your head on it. "I figured it would be more romantic than peeing on a stick and showing it to you," you chuckled softly.

In all honesty, he wouldn't care either way.

How could he?

In front of him was the proof that the bond he shared with you was now bearing fruit.

"... besides… this is your field, right? Genetics," you said, tightening your grip around him. "It felt right for you to find out this way."

Miguel felt overwhelmed all of a sudden, upon realising just how you never missed anything. Down to the last detail. Everything you did always held a purpose, no matter how insignificant it might seem at first.

"I…"

You shifted until you were in front of him, and quickly laced your arms around his waist, placing your chin on his broad chest, eyeing him with absolute adoration. "Come on, Miguel… don't tell me you're surprised it happened so quickly."

He truly wasn't.

He had bred you over and over again over the past few weeks, always making sure you would lay still after each time, a pillow under you, not allowing any cum from going to waste.

You had protested at first, but he excelled at providing after care, and those sessions soon turned into opportunities at exploring your intimacy to the point you were eager to be filled over and over again.

His sweet girl…

"I think I love you," he blurted out, immediately realising how ridiculous he sounded.

Your chuckle reverberated across his skin. "You think? I hope you're more sure than that. There's no turning back now."

His arms circled you, pulling you into a tighter embrace as his gaze met yours. "Thank you."

You quirked an eyebrow. "For what?"

"Everything."

Author's note: Thank you so much to everyone who has been with this story from beginning to end. It means a lot. I hope you were able to connect with these characters in one way or another 🩷 I will be missing Miguel and sweet girl so much... this story wouldn't be anything without your vital support, and I will forever be grateful! Ruby~

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o’hara imagine #answered ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

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sluts4matt · 3 months

Text

DISTRACTION

pairing: rough!dom chris x sub!reader

summary: the two of you had been best friends for years. right after you get out of a bad relationship, chris is the first to be of distraction.

warnings: SMUT, mentions of a toxic relationship, swearing, making out, oral (female revieving), fingering, pet names (lots of the use of ma), praising, degrading, p in v, dumbification, dacryphilia, spanking, choking, hair pulling, overstimulation, LOTS of dirty talk, riding, backshots, ROUGHHH, all together just filth tbh.

words count: 2724

author's note: stop this is so filthy, like, whewy 😅. please don't read if you're uncomfortable with anything listed above. kind, constructive criticism welcome.

(loosely based on this song)

"he fucking cheated on you?" chris looked down at you, his eyes fuming. you had walked into his bedroom, a bitter laugh leaving your lips as you uttered the words you didn't truly want to admit.

"has been for fucking months, god i'm so fucking stupid," you mutter, your small hands sliding over your face in frustration. "it was right under my nose too, like how the fuck did I not realize."

you were rambling now, and chris could sense it.

he could feel your frustration, the sadness you were trying to repress. to him you were an open book, had been since the age of nine. and right now, he knew that the last thing you wanted was to be pitied, and so that was exactly what he was not going to do.

"hey, c'mere," chris spoke up, his hand grabbing your wrist and tugging you closer to his body. it ended with your legs being thrown over either side of his, straddling his lap.

you could feel his hardening dick under you, the way he shifted you around on his lap to get comfortable, but you didn't care. chris had always been like this, had always made it obvious that he thought you were attractive, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel the same.

the two of you were close. probably some of the most important people in each other's lives, and while the sexual tension had never really been addressed, it was there. it was definitely fucking there. you could feel him, his eyes roaming over your face, as if he was waiting for you to look him in the eyes.

you let your arms wrap around his neck, and you were suddenly hyperaware of the position the two of you were in. the way his arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you impossibly closer, and the way his nose nuzzled against the spot where your jaw met your neck.

"i'm sorry, sweetheart," chris finally whispered, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the sensitive skin, causing you to shiver. "he didn't deserve you."

his lips kept trailing along your skin, making your mind go foggy. you couldn't think about anything else other than his lips and the way they were making you feel.

"what are you doing, chris?" you asked him, a small giggle leaving your lips. “making my girl feel better, with a distraction,” chris whispered, and you swore you felt his teeth scrape along your skin.

my girl.

the way the two words rolled off his tongue sent a chill through your entire body, and before you could even think, your hand was sliding through his hair, tugging him impossibly closer.

chris groaned, and he could feel his dick harden even more under you, a feeling that had you whining softly. he let his head fall back, looking up at you. "tell me if you want me to stop, okay?" his voice was a whisper, a plea almost.

and god, he didn't want to stop. the way his best friend was sat on his lap, practically begging for him, it made him feel so many things. but just because he didn’t want to didn’t mean he wouldn’t if that’s what she wanted.

your hands slid down his chest, stopping right at his belt. "i want this, christopher." chris groaned. he hated when you used his full name, and you knew that. and that was exactly why you said it, a small smile tugging on your lips.

"say it again," chris said, his hands gripping onto your thighs. his fingers were digging into your skin, sure to leave bruises, but the thought made you moan. "i want this, christopher," you whispered, letting his name roll off your tongue as you grinded against his dick.

chris didn't even hesitate to grab your shirt, pulling it over your head, tossing it behind him. he flipped the two of you over, pinning your wrist above your head. "keep them there for me, angel."

the nickname made you shiver, and you nodded. he sat up on his knees, his fingers fumbling with the button on your jeans, before finally tugging them down your legs. he could see the wet spot on your panties, his hands running over your clothed cunt. "already soaked, baby."

he leaned down, attaching his lips to yours. his hands continued to run over the soft material, before he was ripping the fabric, a loud gasp leaving your lips. chris smirked, his lips still pressed against yours, kissing you hard and deep. he let his hand slide up your body, his finger wrapping around your throat, and squeezing.

"you're mine," chris growled, and you whimpered. "always been yours, chris." he smiled, letting his thumb run across your bottom lip. "that's right, huh, sweet girl,” he mumbled. his lips were trailing down your body, stopping when he reached your hips.

he bit the skin, hard, before licking the mark he left behind. the way your hands were gripping onto the bedsheets, knuckles turning white, only made chris smile. "do you think i can make you feel better than he ever did?" chris asked, his tone was cocky, and the thought of you saying no had him almost growling.

you could hear the anger in his voice, the jealousy. it turned you on even more, the thought of chris being jealous over you. "yes," you mumbled, your hips bucking up, desperately trying to find some type of friction. chris let out a chuckle, “so desperate for me, aren't you, princess?"

he kissed the inside of your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours. "look at you, all needy for me," chris mumbled, his finger sliding through your folds, groaning at the amount of slick he felt.

he didn't even give you time to respond before he was burying his head in between your thighs, his tongue lapping at your clit, sucking it into his mouth.

"christopher!" you moaned out, your back arching off the bed. the hand that wasn't wrapped around your throat was rubbing up and down your thigh, as if he was comforting you.

"taste so good," chris muttered, his lips moving to your entrance, licking a stripe up, before shoving his tongue in. he fucked you with his tongue, moaning at the way you were grinding against his face.

you couldn't focus on anything other than the way his tongue was fucking into you, the way his nose was nudging against your clit. the coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter, and you were sure you were about to come.

"chris, 'm gonna come," you whimpered, your hands reaching down, gripping his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. your hips grinned against his face, chasing the pleasure he was giving you.

chris could feel how close you were, the way your walls were fluttering around his tongue, and he could tell that you were trying to keep him close. "go ahead, sweetheart, come for me," he said, his words muffled. that was all it took for you to come, a loud moan leaving your lips, his name falling from them.

chris licked up everything you had to offer him, not wasting a single drop. his eyes were trained on your face, the way you were panting, trying to catch your breath. chris smiled, his lips trailing back up your body, kissing every inch of exposed skin he could. he finally reached your lips, connecting his own with yours.

you could taste yourself on his tongue, and the thought made you moan, a sound that was swallowed by chris' lips. his hand had left your throat, his fingers replacing his tongue. he easily slid two fingers into your cunt, your slickness allowing him to do so. you moaned into his mouth, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him close.

chris smiled against your lips, his fingers thrusting into you fast and hard, and it wasn't long before he was adding a third. you were already sensitive, your previous orgasm having barely settled, but you could feel another building, and it wasn't going to take long.

"gonna come again for me again, ma?" chris whispered, and you nodded your head, whines leaving your lips. "so pretty for me." his fingers were working quickly, his thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit, his eyes watching as your face scrunched up. "come for me, baby."

it was as if his words were all you needed, and you were coming for the second time. your nails were digging into his skin, and you were sure you were drawing blood, but chris didn't seem to care.

"so good, princess," chris mumbled, his fingers slowly moving out of your cunt, bringing them to your mouth. “wanna taste yourself?” you opened your mouth, letting him shove his fingers in. you moaned, sucking your own slick off of his fingers, and the way chris was looking at you made your brain go fuzzy.

he pulled his fingers out, and he could see the glossy look in your eyes. "you good?" he asked, his hands holding the side of your face. you nodded, leaning into his touch. "mhm."

he chuckled, before flipping the two of you back over, so that he was on his back, and you were straddling him. "want you to ride me, angel." you slid down his lap slightly, your hands going to undo his belt. "take off your clothes, chris."

he didn't hesitate, quickly taking his shirt off. the sight of him shirtless had your mouth watering, but you didn't have time to admire it.

he lifted his hips, letting you pull his jeans and boxers down. you could see his cock, and fuck. it was big, and thick, and you weren't even sure you'd be able to take all of him.

"c'mon, baby. let me see how pretty you are on my cock," chris groaned, and his words had you moaning. you lifted yourself up, letting him line himself up with your entrance. "i'll go slow, angel."

he pushed you down, his hands on your hips guiding you. the stretch burned, and it took everything in you not to whimper. "fuck," chris cursed, his head falling back. his hands were gripping onto your hips so hard, his nails digging into your skin.

you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, but once you bottomed out, you were fine. he gave you time to adjust, looking at you for confirmation before he started moving. you nodded your head, and that was all he needed.

his hips started thrusting up, his movements slow and gentle, and his eyes were watching your face for any signs of discomfort.

"more," you muttered, and he complied, his hips thrusting harder, his pace picking up. "always wanted this," chris groaned, his fingers wrapping around your throat, pulling you down to connect his lips with yours.

you moaned into his mouth, his hips thrusting up into you. the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping, and the way his cock was hitting your g spot had you seeing stars.

"fuck, fuck, please," you cried out, and the sound of your pleas had chris grunting. he moved one of his hands, letting it rest on your lower stomach, putting pressure on it, making him hit that spot even harder.

"feel so good," chris grunted, his grip tightening around your throat. "you like it when i choke you?" "yes, yes, love it," you whimpered, as tears fell down your cheeks.

the sight of his best friend crying above him because of how good he was making you feel had his hips thrusting harder, his hands grabbing at your body. he was sure his fingers were leaving bruises, and the thought had him growling.

"look so pretty taking my cock like a good little slut," chris grunted, and the dirty talk had you whining. "yeah? my baby likes being called a slut?" you nodded, a loud moan leaving your lips. "my pretty little slut."

he flipped the two of you over, chris hovering above you. he had a hand wrapped around your throat, his other hand resting beside your head. his lips were right against your ear, his voice low, growling.

his hips continued to drill into you, your eyes rolling back. you were barely able to form any thoughts, let alone sentences other than whimpers and whines.

"you feel so good, baby," chris grunted, and the way he was speaking made you moan. "gonna come," you cried out, the familiar feeling in your stomach starting to build. "i know, princess," he said, his hand moving to grip the bed sheets, his hips thrusting into you faster.

"fuck, please," you begged, with the way his hand was wrapped around your throat it had you seeing stars. the pleasure was intense, and chris could feel the way you were shaking, your walls fluttering around him.

"such a pretty little slut, crying for her best friend as he fucks her," he whispered, and the words were all you needed, sending you over the edge, your high washing over you. you came with a loud moan, the tears that were previously falling were now streaming down your face, the pleasure was overwhelming.

chris continued his brutal pace, his lips sucking marks into the sensitive skin of your neck. he pulled out flipping you over, "hands and knees, angel." he waited until you got into position before shoving himself back into you, both of you groaning. he let his hands wrap around your hair, pulling your head back.

his lips were attached to the spot between your neck and shoulder, his hips moving impossibly faster. the feeling was so intense, you could barely breathe. "fuck, please, chris," you were mumble-whining, unable to form any coherent sentences. the feeling was too much, too overwhelming. "can't talk, ma?"

chris chuckled, and the sound made your eyes roll back. his fingers were digging into the flesh of your hips, and you were sure that if he didn't have such a good grip on you, you would have collapsed by now. "my dumb little plaything, hmm?"

you whined, his words going straight to your cunt, causing you to clench around him. "already dripping again, hm? you like being my dumb little toy?"

you nodded, and he chuckled, letting go of your hair and pushing your face into the mattress. the change in angle had him hitting a different spot, and he was sure the sounds that were leaving your mouth were inhuman.

"christopher, chris, please," you were begging, and it was music to his ears. "what's wrong, princess?" he said, his hand rubbing your back as his thrusts slowed. "it's too much," you mumbled, and he could see the tears staining your face, the drool leaking out of the side of your mouth. "too much ma?"

you nodded, and his eyes widened.

"you want me to stop, princess?" chris said, and he was ready to pull out, when you shook your head. "want you to come," you whispered, and he smiled. "yeah, angel? my girl wants me to come in her tight little pussy?"

you nodded, and that was all it took for chris. his thrusts picked up, his fingers gripping the flesh of your hips. "gonna fill you up," chris grunted, his words going straight to your core, and suddenly you were coming once again.

you could feel his hot cum filling you up, and the way he was fucking into you had his seed leaking out of you. chris' head was resting on your back, and you were barely able to support the two of you, as your legs were shaking.

he pulled out, his hand swiping over your cunt, pushing his cum back into you. "keep it in, yeah?" he muttered, and the words made you shiver. chris laid on his back, pulling you to lay on his chest, his hands running up and down your body.

"you okay, angel?" chris asked, his eyes searching yours. he was worried he had pushed too far, and while it seemed like it, he didn't regret it. "yes, more than okay," you whispered, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

"good, good." there was a moment of silence, before he chris was breaking it.

"if i ever see that bastard, i'll fucking kill him."

#chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #nathan doe #nate doe #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #Spotify

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the-californicationist · 5 months

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Please! I need the part 2 of “Captain Price opens a package, thinking it’s intel, but it’s a sex pollen.“ I'm on my kneesss pleaseee it was so good! 😭♥️

Anyways, I'm your new follower 😍, and some of the stories you write is just so damn good😍 (Sorry for bad grammar's, English isn't really my first language, uwu)

im sorry but idk what a part two even looks like. i know a lot of people have asked for it but its... just some couch sex?? idk i'll try.

Laswell clicked the door shut behind her, and part of you wished she had locked it. Gaz was sure to tell the rest of the team, but you could do without an audience. What would they even see if they barged in here?

The captain had let his cock loose from the confines of his pants, and they were sliding down his thick, muscular ass with every selfish thrust. He was rubbing himself like a naughty dog against your clothed pussy, begging for entrance with every forward movement. Your shirt was pulled down, revealing your breasts, and now they were covered in pink marks from the roughness of his beard as he moved his mouth across you.

Feeling him take each nipple and suck it so gently into his mouth, pulling it in like delicious nectar through a straw, drinking you although you were dry, tasting you even though you had no flavor. It was too much, but he couldn't stop.

You felt a little wrong to be enjoying your commanding officer so much. His humping was making your body respond even as it waited for your guilty conscience to catch up.

"Cap... oh, my fucking God... No, Captain. We shouldn't..." you tried to protest on his behalf, knowing he was being controlled by the powder.

"Corporal," he spoke with his mouth full of your flesh, "I can stop... now. It'll give you... enough time... to run..."

His bright pink eyes flashed up at you in warning and he used both his arms to pin you on either side of your head, forcing you to look at him, the intensity of which went right to your rapidly-melting core.

Suddenly, in a moment of lucidity, he looked you right in your eyes and finished his sentence,

"But that will not be bloody true for long."

As if warning you, he rubbed his hardness up and over your belly, letting it ruck up your shirt, and you felt its incredible heat. It was like a long, steel brand. His skin was smooth, but it was scalding and swollen with his blood. The huge tip left a wet trail of desire wherever it went.

"It's okay, Captain. You can have me if you --"

There mere suggestion of your consent was all he needed to let the dam burst and the river run free. His need crashed from him with an explosive force. He all but ripped your clothes from you, nearly hurting you in the process, making your ankles ache from the sudden pressure as he shucked your pants and boots away in one go.

Your panties were torn from you, sturdy though they were. The fabric made a whining, popping noise as the elastic split. Air rushed across uncovered skin, and your body doubled down on its plans to produce as much natural lubrication as possible. It seemed to know you'd need it.

He didn't touch you. Not with his hands. There was no preparation of any kind. Price fed himself into you like a hand into a glove, a body part in need of sudden and immediate warmth. He took control of your head again, pinning you in that same furious way, and you had a singular view of his face, twisted in a sort of sublime agony as he sank himself into you for the first time.

The pressure was almost unimaginable. Your body was making a lurid, wet, slicking noise as his cock forced you in half. You tried to allow him in, tried to relax, but there was little you could do. He was immense and heavy. It felt like a fist on a strong arm, like a forge hammer, hot and searing. The only thing more tormenting was his voice purring darkly in your ear.

"Fuck, you're warm..."

He pulled himself out of you inch by inch, leaving a terrible hollow where you were once whole.

"Wet for me. So wet. How?"

Back in. And in. And in. It seemed to go forever in and it made you wonder how deep you were.

"It feels so good to have you 'round me, love..."

When the rosy head of him found the end of your wet hole, it sort of... settled there. Locked in, like a key into a tumbler, and each fold of you a lifted pin, fitting him as if you were crafted for it.

"Thought 'bout how you'd feel. Sometimes... dreamt it."

You felt your body give away your surprise. He was too gone to notice it, but not you. You would have been able to feel the planets shift an inch to the left if they dared. You could feel everything. Each and every pore and hair and breath was awake and alive and living in the rawest possible way. Could he have really been thinking of you like you were thinking of him?

"Bloody fuckin' hell. So tight. Too tight."

He was right. It was too tight. He was squeezing himself in with each of these aching, crazed thrusts, shoving himself inside of you hungrily, all the way up to your pounding heart, it seemed. You felt yourself slipping around him like hot oil, running down his shaft and matting the coarse, dark hair that cradled his root.

"John..."

You used his name in place of his title, and he noticed. Noticed it like a hawk notices a hare. Right in your ear, up against your cheek, he responded, too quickly, too much teeth,

"Yes, love. Yes. Yes? Tell me."

He was grunting now, clearly on the edge of his pleasure. You aimed to take him over it, to plunge him into blinding darkness. You whispered, and each word hit its mark like the straight shaft of an arrow, striking into the target one after the other, tearing through the bullseyes like they were nothing but air.

"You're gonna make me come, John."

Again, that unearthly snarl came from his chest, the one you'd never heard before come from the mouth of a man. It was a cry and a scream and a prayer and a plea and had he not been pinning you down prone with his own prostrated body, he would have been growling it from his knees. He commanded you as he worshiped you,

"Give it to me. Give it to me. Give. It. To. Me."

Your body listened before you could even register his words.

From the bones in your hips, you felt your muscles tighten along his iron rod like a fist, closing in on him knuckle by knuckle, and each closure brought you closer to that brink where the darkness turned to blinding white light. You could feel the sparkle of it, that peppery gunpowder flash and then...

"Holy fuck, love..." He stared at you as if you were the sun lighting up his whole life. Like he'd seen you before, all sherbet pink and blazing orange, in the dawn, in the mornings, cutting over the horizon.

Price had come in you. You felt it. It slid along the cleft of your ass and soaked into the fabric of the couch. He didn't mind it. You couldn't. His body was still thrusting as hard and as heavy as before, fucking up into you as if he hadn't just filled you with his thick, hot cream.

"I can't... " he gasped, wrenching his eyes shut, "I can't stop..."

"It's okay, John..."

"I can't bloody stop, love. I'm... fuck, I'm sorry..."

"I'm okay. It's okay," you whispered to him, trying to soothe him.

You pet the hair back over his brow and he leaned into your touch like a cat, purring for more of it. You laced your fingers through his hair and held him tight at his scalp, turning his head so that you could talk to him right into his ear,

"Fuck me how you need to, Captain."

Did you enjoy this tale or maybe some other work by me? Consider buying me a coffee, if you have the means. Kudos, likes, reblogs, and feral comments also work as well ^_^ Thanks!

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capslocked · 6 months

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HONNE, TATAMAE & THE OTHER ONE

male reader x shin yuna

9k words

Yuna shuffles into your office with the same sneaky smile, the same easy slouch, and she settles into one of the chairs across the table. There is, apparently, more to talk about.

It's a matter of image, of perception, is what she knows.

You know every good lie starts with the truth.

So you swallow. You pause. Some other part of you understands Yuna can't ignore who she really is, and you’re not sure you can either.

Look - Shin Yuna is the kind of woman that turns heads, even with the best of intentions. A long, lithe silhouette; an easy, rosy sort of youthfulness clinging to the swell of her cheekbones, the curve of her waist. Take a dress that's cut to show a little thigh, or a hairstyle pushed back on one side - earrings, or heels, or just the subtle swipe of red over her lip - it doesn't take much for men (or anyone else) to figure that out. A girl who, more times than not, really ought to have a boy's hand planted on her ass, in possession.

So the opportunity to capture such a form perfected - all toned and graceful and flush for curves, her legs never seeming to end, the slithering fit of the dresses - these were the things they wanted. Package it, put a logo on it - better yet, a ribbon or a bow - and ship it straight to the consumer.

Somebody everyone wants, somebody no one can ever have.

“So,” Yuna asks from the other side of your desk, lips slanting halfway coy. “Are you going to treat me like an adult?"

Her fingers play idly with the hem of her skirt, and she lets a long, slender leg slowly slide out from beneath her.

“In what way,” you answer, half paying attention.

"The photos." She doesn't have the slightest qualms about lifting it higher. The soft creak of leather, and a deepening smile. "Am I not allowed to be a little racy?"

"That's certainly... one way of looking at it."

You glance away from where her stockings wrap around the soft curve of her thighs to flip back through the photos in your lap, one after the other, each a little different from the last. The beach, the sun, a flimsy white slip of a bikini top that hides exactly nothing, her muscles wet and glistening and perfect. Beyond suggestive, it's considerably inappropriate.

But then to a lot of people, Yuna is a lot of things.

She’s more clever than anyone gives her credit for. And she’s fucking gorgeous, sure. That’s definitely not up for debate, but god is she young - she's barely twenty. And here’s some rather uninteresting food for thought: you couldn't even technically take her for a drink without faking an ID or breaking some law or another, like a real one. So go ahead, chew that down. Girls her age are typically studying, or working a retail job and getting wasted on the weekends. And they aren't typically making six, seven figures turning their head to the camera and asking how much more skin?

You have some thoughts.

Prudently, you’re her publicist, and it’s your job to make sure that the public gets a good look at her and sees exactly what you want them to see. It's unfair. She wields sex like a weapon. She's got the face, the body; it's an easy sell, commodified and commercialized down to the finest detail, the softest curve, the slightest arch of her brow. The idea's to not let anyone look too long, should they catch something you haven't approved yet, or the fact that she's quite possibly a real person with a real life and real feelings, which could easily fuck up her brand, so unfortunately, that's a bit of a no-go.

Sign of the times maybe, no ethical consumption under another something, yadda yadda - it's a shitty business, really, and the whole thing usually leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

(And just to be upfront, as an important disclosure: you are fucking her brains out on the side, which is a different kind of ethical dilemma, with a different kind of flavor to it.

You’re supposed to be something of a role model - and she’s gone and fucked up bad by falling for you. From her perspective, it probably makes sense. Girl gets boy, bespoke song, credits roll and it's fine. No sin to atone, no 'after'.

It was supposed to be a one time thing. It’s metastasizing into something you’re not even going to attempt to put into words. It’s a lawsuit waiting to happen, you know that. And you know the girl has daddy issues, but then you've never had a problem whatsoever playing into it. The possessiveness, the control - she gets off on it. You're pretty sure that she'd do just about anything if you asked her, and you'll admit that the thought alone makes your stomach stir, your mouth run dry.)

Yuna taps her knuckles on the wood of your desk. “What’s the verdict?”

"Well, professionally," you say, caveat in hand, and you give the photos one last flip through. "I'd say they're fine.”

"Oh?" Yuna cocks her head to the side. Her long, blonde hair curtains over her shoulder, and the smile that shadows in at the corner of her mouth is almost wicked. She leans forward, chin propped on a palm, and you see that her expression is bright, glittering with interest. "And unprofessionally?"

Sure. It's a fair question.

Though she's wearing her stage face, the one that looks all big eyes and doe lashes, a hint of a pout on her plush bottom lip, and she's staring at you expectantly, the way she might look at a man she's just asked for the time.

You've seen her look a million other ways. You've seen her with her knees spread, her cheeks flushed, on all fours, straddling your lap, face pressed into the sliding glass door of your shower, her eyes screwed shut as she chokes out your name. And god, doesn’t she look good in all of them.

Your fingers tap against the photos.

“Unprofessionally," you tell her, and the smile on your face is tight - unknowable. "I think they’re a little… gaudy."

Yuna frowns, and it's just a flash before her expression is carefully blank again, the stage face back in full swing. She's been doing this since she was a teenager, so the mask is impeccable, but you know her, and you know that she's thinking: about the photo shoot, the way the photographer was looking at her, and the way you had looked at her later, too.

She knows what you've seen. She's wondering if that's why.

"Really," she asks, a note of disappointment in her voice.

"Really," you confirm with a small sigh, though you're still smiling. It's a small, private sort of smile, like you're remembering a joke. You don't miss the way she glances down at your mouth either. "Let me be clear, you have a shot at real success. I mean, you have a chance at a career. A real, sustainable career.”

She's sitting there with her legs crossed, her foot tapping restlessly, and when she's silent for a moment too long, the way her eyes narrow just a smidge, her head tipped slightly, you realize how it sounds. Patronizing.

"Look," you amend. You're not the best at apologies, but you try. "I just mean - I think that you could be doing something that you actually enjoy."

"Who says I don't enjoy this," she says, and there's a bite in her tone, a challenge. She's leaning back in her seat now, arms crossed.

"What, taking your clothes off for the camera?" You laugh, a quick bark. Isn’t that a cruel question, and you can see it in the way her eyes flash. "You could do a lot more than that, I'm just saying."

"Right," she says, and she doesn't blink, doesn't even move. Her gaze is fixed, unwavering. "Because I'm not pretty enough."

You open your mouth. Close it.

It's not a question. It's a statement.

"That's not what I'm saying-"

"Do you know what makes me different from the IT-girl-of-the-month? The Jang Wonyoungs, the Bae Irenes, the Kim Jisoos of the world?" Yuna cuts in.

"Yuna, this isn't-"

"You should know. " She laughs. "It's your job, knowing things, isn't it?"

The silence stretches thin between you. She's not wrong. There’s the quintessential beauty, the timeless classic, the fantasy-wrapped-up-as-a-daydream - oh, it's all sexual, but the product there is palatable (read: marketable). An idea the general public wants to take home to their mother, not take to bed. A beauty so docile and innocent, you feel guilty harboring those untoward thoughts it makes you have.

Yuna is somewhere possibly, someway probably the opposite. You’ve sold her as such, as fantasy in sheep's clothing. She's neither afraid to put the images to words, nor speak her desires aloud. It's her own brand of sensuality, and it's what the public wants - has always truly wanted, since the dawn of man and of popstars fucking their publicists - what the public wants but turns itself in knots just to pretend they don't. The only way it’ll end up in anyones’ parents' home is under the guise that it will be smuggled upstairs and held down into the springs of a mattress. Hand over her mouth, or maybe around her throat, just so she'll shut up.

She's not a nice girl, or the girl-next-door, a bride-in-a-box, but you'd known that before. The line between fact and fiction is fine indeed.

"You're different," you tell her, finally.

"When I first came in here, you had no qualms, no issue to raise, and now all of a sudden, everything is too much," she says, and she's not smiling, her tone flat. "If it was a problem from the jump, you would've said so."

“I just think a little subtlety would be a nice change of pace. It could go a long way, I mean, I could show you the data- "

"So you're going soft on me, is that it?"

You blink, and the realization hits.

"Just where was this noble version of you when we first started out? You had no problem then, remember? Put a sixteen-year-old in front of a camera, in this industry, and all of a sudden-"

"Don't."

“And suddenly it's all 'oh no, that's a little too much, we need to dial it back'." She sighs, a single sharp burst. "Why is that? Is it because you think that now you own me? I fuck you, swallow your cum and call you daddy, and now these are your decisions? Is that it?"

She’s standing now, her chair shoved back so fast it nearly clatters to the floor. There's a storm on her face, almost a rage. This now become a familiar story. The one where the girl's too pretty for her own good. Too much, too soon.

"I'm not a child," she tells you, her tone measured, a sharp contrast to the fire in her eyes. "I know what I want. I know how to get it. You're not telling me anything I don't already know. I'm different. You're right."

She's different, but the girl's clever, too. And she's stubborn. It's a dangerous combination.

You breathe slow. "Then why don’t you act like it."

“If they’re going to call me a slut,” she hisses, and she's walking forward. Her palms land on your desk, hard, and you glance down at her clenched fists, at her neatly kept nails, "you know, after we leak them all those steamy photos online-"

Your mind clicks. You reach to slam the cover of the photo book shut. She's caught your hand, though, in hers, holding it firmly to the desk.

Yuna glances at the photos over again, at the tight fit of the swimwear, or how the ties slip in an invisible breeze. And she's biting her lip, trying not to smile, you can tell. "You know it might be worth it for once," she says, slipping a finger between the buttons of her shirt.

There's a long, tense moment, and before you can register it, Yuna has rounded your desk; she’s closing the distance, fast.

And she’s lowering her eyes. Putting her lips on yours.

It knocks the wind from your sail, for just the instant. You're speechless.

Because her fingers. Her mouth. Her hair. Yuna's everywhere, and she's warm. It's utterly selfish, you understand: you want her to be yours. You want her to be yours and no one else's.

She’s realizing she might be.

You feel her grabbing for more of you. Wanting. She tilts her head, her breath hot, and you kiss her back, her mouth slick against your own, and the kiss is a fast, deliberate kind of messy. Your teeth catch her bottom lip, and her tongue slips past yours, licking into your mouth, her hands clutching at the collar of your shirt. It's not like it is when you're fucking, which is slow and hot, and she's on her back, legs around your waist, her nails biting into your skin, or when she's bent over the arm of the sofa, her ass in the air and her back arched, her breathless moans a chorus of yes, yes, please. This kiss is more battle, more heat, less gentle and less finesse. It's the kind of kiss that's just short of an argument.

"You're an asshole," she breathes into your mouth, and it's not a compliment.

You smile against her.

"So are you," you murmur, and her lips are parted, her eyelids fluttering shut, her breath coming quick and hot.

"Then maybe you should just fuck me," she says. She's not asking. “Yeah.” You press your words right into her neck, her collarbone. “Maybe I should.”

Your hands are on her hips faster than you can realize what it is they’re doing, palms pressing into her, and then you're walking her backwards, shuffling a few steps until the small of her back collides with the edge of your desk, and you're lifting her up onto the surface, the photographs falling to the floor, scattering.

"I thought we weren't supposed to do this here," she murmurs, pulling away for just a moment, her mouth swollen and wet, her eyes dark. She knows exactly what it does to you: the goading, the taunting - the looks of faux-innocence later over a bare shoulder, her ass in the air. How it can get you to fuck her within an inch of her life. What it’ll get her, the return on investment.

"And I thought we agreed to longer skirts."

Her thighs are smooth, silky, and they part, the lace of her underwear stark against her skin. You slide a hand beneath the elastic band, sinking down, and down, until she inhales sharply.

"The fuck do you end up doing going up the stairs?" you add, and your fingers are tracing the swell of her hip, and you can feel the goosebumps on her skin.

She bites her lip. You sink down to press a kiss to her thigh, and then the other.

"Nothing," she tells you, and her eyes are wide. "I guess it all just hangs out."

She simply smirks right back into you, throws her arms over your shoulders. You’re snared, caught - she’ll always be able to fuck what she wants right out of you.

"Jesus, Yuna." Your hand curls around her wrist, thumb pressed to her pulse, and her shoulders roll back.

You push her down, and she's sprawled across the desk, legs stretching wide, her head tilted back and her chest heaving. “God, you’re so fucking wet, and I've barely touched you. That turns you on? Being a brat?"

She sucks air past her teeth, and you can measure each rise and fall of her chest. The lace under her hips is soaked, her pussy swollen and pink. Like if she doesn’t get your hot, open mouth on her clit this instant, you’re both going to have a problem.

You slip two fingers into her instead, and Yuna keens.

"I know it does," you say, and your voice comes out lower, drier than you expect. She's hot, so wet around you, her pussy fluttering. "It fucking turns me on, too."

"Please," and “god,” is what all you receive back in half whispers, while her legs are spread, her heels now really dug into the square of your back, and she's got a fistful of your hair like she owns it. Her voice is high, her eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t be such a fucking tease."

You're not going to make it easy. She's not going to make this quick.

"What, and you aren’t?"

You curl your fingers inside her, and the noise that leaves her is positively obscene. She's grinding against your palm, her hips bucking, and her lips are parted, her eyelashes dark and thick, fanning her cheeks. She's panting, her thighs trembling.

"No," she breathes. If she’s shaking her head, you can’t tell. "I'm exactly what you tell them I am."

Your hand stills, and it takes a moment for her to realize that the pressure inside her is gone. Her eyes snap open, her mouth twisted.

"Fuck you," she spits. "Put them back."

You're already sinking down to your knees, and you've got her skirt shoved up, the lace panties pulled aside, her hips canted, her pussy glistening. The stockings can stay, fuck, the heels, too. She's so fucking hot, her legs spread apart and her lips red. Her palm shoved into her brow, and her breath just barely more than a ragged huff of air. You can feel her body wound tight and ready, her eyes on the ceiling.

You put your tongue against her, flat and slow. Inaccurate, indiscriminate, licking up her wet cunt. And her whole body arches off the desk, a cry leaving her mouth with her head thrown back. Her thighs are shaking, and her heel presses into your shoulder, and god, she tastes incredible.

"Please." It comes like music, really, a song of desperation. You can hear it. She's singing it for you now. "Oh god, please, fuck-"

So you do her one better. You put your whole mouth over her, and she fucking shivers. You don’t even try to ease into it - you're devouring, ravishing her, working your lips and tongue all over her pussy, lapping the length of her in broad, hot strokes, and she's almost shrieking, her body going taut. You suck on her lips, pressing your tongue into her clit, and when you pull off her, your hand takes over the place where your tongue can't quite reach, her wetness slick around your fingers. Yuna's close - you can see that she is, you can hear that she is, and it's her gasp that lets you know.

"I'm -" she says, her voice reaching higher, her nails digging into the flesh of your shoulders, the wood of your desk. The sound she makes is wretched and beautiful. "God, I'm cumming, I'm cumming - fuck!"

The licking, the lapping, the fucking fingering. You can feel her slicked cunt pulse and throb in a satisfied, anticipatory kind of way. Even if she wasn’t audibly wet around your knuckles, you’d read Yuna like a map.

Your thumb taps across her clit, once - twice, thrice, and it’s just that.

She arches off your desk, thighs trembling as your tongue works her over, This hard, hungry kiss, and she tastes as sweet as she looks - as filthy as she acts, too. Her pussy is slick, her hips rolling, her body trembling, and she's making soft, little ah, ah, ah, sounds into the wet seal of your mouth. She's trying to keep it quiet, because she knows as well as you, everyone in the damn office does, probably - it's one thing to play at being a slut. A complete other to really fuck like one.

Your finger slips in and out of her pussy, and then another. They fill her up. The knuckles bending and pushing deeper. Yuna's fucking ruined - your desk is ruined.

But then there you are, complicit, and perhaps a little evil: licking and licking and licking right into her, making her grip twist in your hair and her thighs clench around your face. You can feel it in how her breathing is coming fast, faster, her whole body growing taut, and it was never going to take long, you figure, the way her hips were rolling the moment you got your hands on her. You can tell. She's close, and she's so pretty, all flushed and writhing, her skirt hiked up, her ass perched on the edge of your desk, and when her mouth falls open and her breath catches in her throat, you pull yourself up to watch her, the heel of your hand pressed against her clit, and she's shaking.

"Look at me,” you tell her, a kiss trailing unsatisfyingly into the crease of her thigh, your voice running coarse.

She does, her gaze glassy, and the sound that leaves her mouth is a sob. That’s all it really takes.

“Show me. What face you make when you cum on my fingers sweetheart, show me what a slut you actually are-"

You can watch it all in real time, the panting, the heaving. The sculpted lines of her pretty face screw up, real tight, and she lets out another moan, breathier this time, her mouth hanging open. She does it again when you press down. And Yuna fucking shakes, her hands balled, white-knuckling, and the desk rattling beneath her.

It's all a matter of slight degradation, you’ve learned, the barest humiliation. Like the paradoxical freedom she knows she can find in a hand clenched tight around her throat or her hair pulled and twisted into a fist or the sharp sting of a smack across her ass. Her pretty face. She likes a little something that burns. Something sinewy, visceral, raw: you call her a whore, a filthy fucking cumslut and it makes her body curl like she has hot metal pressing into her skin. Makes her breathless, like she wants you to own her.

Sometimes it's better than being fucked.

(Sometimes.)

Because just look at her: she’s in the middle of coming apart, mouth fallen slack, brow furrowed - and she gets real quiet when she cums, the absolute opposite of the journey she’d taken to get there, all those loud little, uh-uh-ah, fucking please god, her moans, her whimpers - her orgasm ripping right through the middle of her, the hourglass of her entire body stiffening on borrowed time as it washes across her features.

You let out a loud sigh, something she can moor herself to that isn’t your fingers, the desk, or your hair at the roots. Yuna can be every bit as uncomplicated as she can be complex, but god, you love her most like this: an unrehearsed, beautiful mess.

"Baby," you tell her, because it's easier to just call her that, and because you don't know how else to end the statement, because you know if you ask, she'll let you - hell, she'll beg for more, and that’s got your brain feeling rather mushily incoherent at present.

"Daddy," she responds - because of course she fucking does; she’s gasping, and her cheeks are still so pink, her body sated, and your heart leaps into your throat.

It's a problem; you've been trying to work it out for a good few months now, and by this, you mean the little moment you have right after you're done, where your eyes meet, and you smile at her. A problem, too, her lips. A problem, because she kisses you, soft, and slow, and easy. A problem, because her heart's probably already yours.

If anyone were to ask, you would have said there's no greater pleasure than knowing a girl that's almost died to take your cock, but maybe that's the point: it's just supposed to feel a bit better if you're a little head over heels, a little stupid about it too.

"I'm going to use this perfect pussy now," you warn her - just simple formality - because you're already rolling her down onto her back, your cock hard and aching against your trousers.

You've got your hands on her stockings, tugging them down to her ankles, the lace of her panties around her thighs, the neat garter of her garter belt wrapped around her hips, her cunt bare beneath it. You unzip, too slow. You tug yourself out.

“I’ll be good,” she says to you, a promise.

“Yeah,” you return to her, “I know.”

And you slip your cock into her cunt, just barely - maybe an inch, maybe more - and you hear a little noise leave her throat, low. Broken.

“Fuck,” she murmurs, and god, you just can't help it, it's easy; you sink deeper, nice, slow, everything smooth inside her, until another broken sort of gasp spills off her lips.

And then another: "oh my fucking god."

You snap your hips back in, bottoming out this time in the wet heat of her perfect cunt, and she just fucking collapses. Yuna looks like an absolute dream in this state of half-dress, half-distress: black suede around the ankles, stilettos, with just the perfect heel. There are worse things, you can imagine, and she looks perfect sprawled out against your notes and portfolios, all this hot, aching want. As gorgeous as she is fucked. You tear into her stockings, a little. You’ll tear more.

You already know you're going to hell. Or at least that’s where you should already be, but you hips crash into hers again, fucking her legs wider apart, spreading her open across your desk for you, getting her slick all over the photos, her career - it’s all so perfectly unfair.

"You have no idea, the things I want to do to you right now," you breathe, your tone hushed, and you're talking again, like you often do. There goes your mouth - but your hips drag back, and then again, her pussy clenching, vice tight and impossibly wet.

It's a long, torturous, lazy sort of a pull, that draws these pretty thin moans from the very center of her.

And the way that feels, your cock buried deep in her cunt: better than good - heaven, if you care enough about labels for it, or the names of things. You haven’t any real way to tell; the gates haven't opened or anything, so all you're working from here is an educated guess. From the fact that Yuna’s eyes have slid closed, her lips parted, and her whole body starting now to tremble gently with it.

"Jesus, this perfect, tight pussy grips me so good, god - such a good girl, always so fucking wet for me," and your mouth is pressed to the arch of her ear, whispering every last thing you know will make her cum again, like a dream.

And she is, she does.

She's twisting up to grip at your hips, her head falling to one side. When you drag your cock through her cunt, slowly, you watch her lips purse and the way the flush moves all the way down the column of her neck, past her collarbone, her shirt half undone and her tits heaving against the white, sheer fabric. You fuck her for a little, and then you roll your hips slow, so slow.

Until your pace is fucking punishing, deep, and so hard. You can’t help it.

Because it's unbelievable - she's so perfect, so tight around you. Fit snug like a glove, like she was made to take your cock, to whimper and mewl at your mercy. Her lips part further and she keens, her brows twisting in similar disbelief as you pound your length into her. The heat pooled in your belly, the way she looks under your desk: fuck, she's so beautiful like this, properly fucked.

You'd let her ruin you for life - it's that simple.

"Yuna, you - fuck," you barely say, and you sound more than slightly stunned, so she’s filling in the gaps, elaborating in the spaces you cannot - that she loves it, that you’re so good for her, and so is that, and that, and that - the way it hits, right there, keep fucking her just like that, because right there, right there, right there, right there - the way she props herself up on her elbows to tell you, "you're fucking me so deep, oh my god - yes, oh my god, fuck."

By the time Yuna shudders through another orgasm, a silent ghost of a wail leaving her pretty frozen mouth, her lashes are batting against her cheeks, and she's biting her lip, so hard you're certain she's going to break the skin, her back strung like a bow. It's the look on her face, that soft sort of reverence, and how her lips are swollen and spit-slick, the pretty hollow of her throat. Your thrusts become faster, shorter - your own moan thick in your throat, your jaw hanging slack.

“Here,” you say, and she’s just putty between your fingers, on your cock.

You’re flipping her around, onto a different angle. You know she likes it, the way her tits are pressed against your desk, and it's hot the way her ass tilts right into your hips, arched. Proffering. "Be good for me, and spread yourself open."

She's already so meek when she complies. "Anything, sir. Stretch me out; I want you to make me yours."

God, she's practically purring when she talks like this. She knows exactly what that fucking does to you. Knows that when her eyes draw back, big and watery and full, you're a goner - if your cock wasn't deep in her pussy, fucking her open and raw, the view would nearly be enough. And all of this, the pretense, the pantomime, she knows how to bend the line of your body to her own, because when she turns, and presses her red mouth to the crest of her shoulder, you are hers.

You could probably cum, right now, deep down into the molten hot of her cunt: if your hips keep up their ruthless pace, if her ass was sticking up the slightest bit more - the sound that would come from her.

"Take that perfect cock - and fuck my pussy up," Yuna mewls, her voice saccharine and slurring, a touch whiny. She rolls her hips. Your cock grinds, still, though it stutters now - shallow and quick.

"All this pussy, for daddy's cock," and you're sure that the entire office can hear her now, the moans that escape from her mouth - but you can't even find it in you to care. You're caught, all of her a net you've willingly been ensnared by, and here you figure that's the slightest bit appropriate; you're so fucked, and it's funny, too. Funny enough to laugh about, later. "Nobody fucks this tight little pussy the way you do, sir."

It's a smile she hears in your voice when you say, "is that right? Go on then, let’s hear all the things you'd have me do to your slutty little cunt."

The line's crossed again, in some indecipherable direction. Where, again, exactly, does it matter? There are lines and lines, and none of them quite mark the beginning, the end, the periphery. This time you don't pull back; you dig deep, and it makes Yuna cry out like you’re killing her. Which, in a way - you already have.

So your hips stutter forward again, once more, and you lean into the slant, so fucking deep it's practically impaled. There’s nothing quite like holding this girl’s hips and pounding her from behind. Her pussy alone is fucking incredible. And the sound her ass makes against the flat of your stomach, the crease of your thighs - it's unimaginable, the way Yuna makes these little squeaks of a noise, like half-broken moans, when you fuck deep, deep, deeper into her. The way her arms splay wide and search frantic across your desk. And as you grab her slim, dainty wrist, pin it back and pull her tight - fixing her upright until you have her head lolling back against your chest - you simply fucking pound away.

Fucking all these little curses and sounds of appreciation out of her throat. Your cock forcing out each syllable, "yes," and "fuck," and "god, oh my fucking god - I cannot believe," now on repeat, how her tone grows tighter. How she moans - a lot, like something's being worked loose.

"Uh-uh," and you're holding her steady now, with one broad, strong hand at the back of her neck. "Keep telling me, and maybe I'll let you cum."

Your free hand finds purchase in her hair. Yuna's groan coming out pathetic and wanting, her mouth half open. You wrap her silky golden locks around your fist, her hair thread neatly through your fingers, and then give the slightest of yanks.

Christ, her pussy just fucking soaks onto you. Greedy. Needy.

"Shit," and Yuna gasps when she can, where she's allowed to.

"Oh, is my little girl into getting her hair pulled?" and you can see the signs of affirmation: the muscles inside her flexing, grasping you as you roll in, a small, soft nod, and the way she sighs your name, like a prayer on her lips.

Listen, she can barely speak, the way you're fucking her apart. Yuna's body is wound like a bow, like string and taught wire. Bent into the side of the desk and open for you, her pussy pulsing tight around you with every stroke.

"Sir, I'll do - whatever you need, just - just - let me have your cum, please -" and there, she's begging now, and her voice is tinny, breaking, breathless and airless.

Then it’s her fucking hair. You pull so much on it harder this time, with another measured thrust inside her, your body flush against her ass. Fingerprints searing down onto where her hips flare and taper, impossibly narrow.

You’re probably hurting her. You’re probably ruining her for anyone else - nothing will ever satiate her more than the way she sobs as your fingers twist tighter through her hair. Around her fucking miracle of a waist. It's an obscene sound that echoes down to your cock, as deep, hot and fucking filthy as her cries when she cums for the third, fourth?

"Just," Yuna barely makes, her eyelids heavy, her gaze flitting somewhere behind her. "Just look at you, fucking me so hard, filling up my tight little pussy, making me take everything your cock has to give. God, you love wrecking my perfect little hole, don't you?"

No, or yes, or probably. You’ll figure out the details later.

"God, I love it when you get real messy, when I get you like this-" your words run seamlessly into the searing heat between your bodies, like punctuation, like the end of days -

"Use me." She doesn't just say it. "Take me, and cum in me, wherever you want. Daddy, you can have my mouth, or, or, you can - you can finish inside me."

And god, you could, you really could: just the timbre of her voice does things to you, the way that it curls around the words daddy, and sir, and you're fucking me so goddamn good. She's saying them now, her whimpers breaking into outright moans and all: shit, please, please - you're gonna make me cum - oh - oh fuck! And when she's wound that tight, a quivering, sopping mess of a girl, you put your fingers against her clit, circling and pressing in tempo to the thrust of your cock.

The cruel metronome that makes. Hell, it fucking sends her.

She’s begging you to finish inside her. It's fucked up - and she knows it. She wraps her heels around the square of your back, and the tension rises, and rises, the coiled spring tight and waiting - just a push away, so you slam into her once, then twice more, the push of a hand splayed between her tits and your fingers digging into the muscle of her thigh. She wants you to cum in her pussy, fill her right up; she tells you that, again, that she wants it, and her voice is raspy, high. That she wants you now, as if she didn't before, and how does this compare, because she needs it now.

You hold out for just a little. You’re holding your breath. Just a little, just until Yuna’s eyelashes flutter open over her shoulder and she says your name, so sweetly, and says, "please, just, inside."

You shouldn't.

You can't.

So here, barely able to think at all, you end up doing the unthinkable - thinking all the while of pumping her right to the finish and draining your balls straight into the deepest reach of her cunt, how fucking tempting it may be - you muster an ounce of good judgment still adrift in a sea of lust. Your throbbing cock draws out of that wet, inviting heat and into your fist, and watch how that makes her begin to unspool: the way she tries to press her knees shut. She's sobbing for it, pleading, her lashes dark with tears. "No, no, fuck me, please, I'm begging you. Please, I'm going to be so good - god, please -"

You tug her back, look her in the eye, and let out a loud, shaky exhale. "Knees, princess."

She's too wracked with need to do anything other than comply. Her jaw drops. “But-”

"Mouth," you cut in, sharp enough that her gaze lifts, and you're right there - on the precipice, so close, watching her tongue dart out of her mouth to run across the swell of her bottom lip.

Watching her knees fold into the carpet, her stockings down loose around her thighs, her underwear hanging off an ankle. The rise and fall of her chest like rolling waves, and you can see her hands fisting on her knees, and her face: you watch the emotion flash over, like water on glass, and a moment is all it takes. She leans her face forward to your hand, as you wind her hair into your fist, her lips parted and her gaze lowered. She's obedient, taking the weight of your cock with her pretty pink mouth like the fucked-up-little-fantasy that she is, opening so nice and wide.

Her eyes flit up to yours, her mascara-ringed lashes fanned against the pink of her cheeks.

"My face," she tells you, or something close to it, "fuck my face. Go ahead, use it - cum all over me."

Your cock slides halfway home, her cheeks hollowing, and when it presses to the back of her throat, she gags. You curse and tip your head back, the wood of your desk digging into the flesh of your palm.

"What did you say," you half groan out. "Baby," you add, just for good measure, just to play along, "c'mon."

The tip of Yuna's tongue sweeps and swirls just beneath your cockhead, and she moans her answer around your length, lapping at a leak of precum. "I said," she's repeating now, her cheek brushing across your shaft, and you shudder. "Fuck, what I said was I want you to cum all over my face.

Jesus.

You bury your cock into her mouth once, twice. Let it sit there. Let her really struggle for it, the angle just a tad awkward from above. Let her lips stretch wide, and her shoulders shake a little - tears start to gather, pricking her eyes, her lipstick a mess, the way your cock fits, plugging up her throat so full. You hold her like that for just a second, a little less - until Yuna's moaning, the vibration low in her mouth, and her eyes flutter open, closed.

"Fuck," you spit out, and "perfect," and your voice is shot, your whole face warm, and you're going to cum on her - everywhere on her. Yuna, who’s been staring up at you in wide-eyed submission, gives you a little nod, like she means it.

Like she’s earned it.

And maybe she has: it only takes one last look to seal it - her hand curled around your cock, her cheek matted with her own spit and lipstick, the bright smudge of her own cum from the point of her chin to the cleft of her cupid's bow, and her eyes are locked on yours, eager and hot. Maybe she hasn't - and maybe you should make her beg, fuck her mouth some more - it's almost cruel, how she looks. A perfectly pretty picture, poised and pliant and waiting, and she's right there, beneath you, and fuck - this is so wrong, and you'll ruin her, you'll mark her up like this. She'll be painted like a work of art.

Your pulse thickens. Stands right up in your veins.

Then, your control, snapping: her pretty lashes flutter, her mouth gone slack, her jaw still tilted up like she expects a gift, an offering, her palm wrapped so nice and snug around the base of your cock, her expression dazed, and so easy, and perfect, so eager. You tilt your hips just a fraction further, and she fucking swallows, her tongue tracing the underside where you throb harder, heavier - her body lilting up as you press in so deep.

“God,” you breathe in, out. It hits hard. It hits fast. “Yuna-”

A tensing of your stomach coils up through like smoke, and your grip tightens on the edge of your desk, the other in her hair, a helpless, desperate thrusting, and there - it's a wonderful, brilliant sort of explosion, like light, the white-hot burn of a fever breaking. You cum all over her face and into her hair, spilling out streaks of hot, filthy white onto her sculpted features and the sweet line of her throat, and god, there's so much, she's taking it so easily, all her breathing hot and heavy and loud.

Her skin alabaster and porcelain; cotton and canvas; she lets you fucking paint her, all messy and ruined.

In fact she’s even smiling like she’s holding in a laugh, all gooey-soft with satisfaction, and you're jerking your cock slow through her slender fingers, even after there's nothing else left to give and every inch of her face is marked - the way she wears your cum like new skin. You feel the shockwave tear your nerves open, and then the calm, right on its heels, spreading out from your core to your fingertips, out through the roots of your hair.

"Ah," you exhale, a tight gasp. Yuna takes the entirety of you into her mouth, sucking down your length - harder - as she swallows back a final, sticky load, her own hair sweat-slick to her face.

Just look at the damage: that’s a story not even you’d be able to spin. There's cum on her nose, dribbling past her cheek. On her jaw and on her cheek. Filthy white streaked all over her parted lips, her neck. Down her shoulder blades, and soiling her hair, and leaking down past her collarbones.

(Christ, was this better or worse? You can't even tell. Every version of her that's been served on a plate for you has seen fit to make you sweat.)

When the dust begins to settle, you’re left panting and spent. Yuna, the collateral on this fine, whiny, disaster of a deal. A collection of photos, and some thoughts and ideas, that now sit disheveled on the ground. There's a scathing voice inside your head that's demanding to be heard, reminding you all-too-casually that this is not any way to manage a client. She could snap her fingers, call out to that sycophant at the top floor, and your career would be over - she could do anything she should ever desire.

You know, on a baser level, this, and worse: the duality of the thought. Her tight cunt on your desk, you on your knees; the sharp gasp you can steal from the top of her throat, perhaps when she feels the gentle pressure of teeth around one rosy nipple. The pinch of your thumb and index finger around the other. Her nails down your back in ten angry lines, and the throb in her throat, while you slide the whole width of a hand, rough, over the flesh of her ass.

Maybe the desk, like everything else, can just join the pile on the floor.

"Yuna," you say, the vowels pitching like a sigh.

Her palms find the sharp crease in your pants and slide upward. She's gazing up at you, bright, her face sticky with you.

"You can't send me out like this," she tells you, matter-of-factly, letting a smile cross the lines of her lips - or a smirk. A wordless extension of the previous sentence - of a few.

You pull out and away from her: a white and gray dotted tie hanging loose, unknotted; a button still fastened somewhere mid-center, your trousers pulled off and loose down just below your knees, the fly gaping open. She's in a similar state, the cups of her bra slipping loose, her mouth flushed, lips swollen and red, the outline of how she’d let you use her in a smeary, runny stain across her cheek.

"Maybe let your manager know," you tell her, pulling your belt in place, and you think you catch her eye rolling. "That you're going to be late."

Yuna doesn't hesitate.

"Tell her yourself," she responds, "I'm sure she'll be relieved to hear I'm not actually dead - just having gotten fucked stupid on my PR person's cock."

"I might forget to include a couple details."

"You shouldn’t." Her eyebrows jump. And she's chewing, lazily, on the full curve of her lower lip, her teeth glinting like razors. "Here, before you throw all this to the sharks -"

So, so very dramatic, and with this: her thumbnail pressed beneath your chin. It draws your gaze up - up, and down: from the splay of her legs and the gleam of wetness between them, a brief rest along the arcs of her chest - the room's a total fucking wreck. Your necktie, her skirt, her blouse, her pantyhose. The papers and books all spread, bent, broken, the stack knocked clean onto its side. The skirt's probably still pulled too far up her hips for decency, her breasts shoved up to her neck and the collarbone, and then there's her face - her chin streaked with cum. Yuna smiles then, the corner of her mouth pulled upward.

She might kiss her if you'd let her.

Cum on her lips be damned, she's beautiful like that, like she isn't even trying. And in fact, she never really had to - this girl, she'd do it alone. The idea that someone could be as universally loved as she, is enough, a marvel even, but here she is in front of you, every atom and curve a siren, a study in perfection and composition. Like she’s not just all your mistakes laid out to bear.

"Take a second to take a proper look, hm? Get all the memories in, while they're fresh."

"Because?"

"You can remember I'm only the person you say I am, for you."

"Oh, of course," and the laugh that leaves your throat sounds dry, cracked open. The band of her skirt stretches, snaps back, so neatly that it leaves a pale line on her flesh. And now there are your hands, fitting around her hipbones, a sigh: a short, sudden motion, tugging her up. Yuna gasps: something surprised, delighted. She's all grins and teeth, all clean, bright incisors.

"Mine," you're breathing, the flat of her stomach underneath the fingers you've placed upon it. "This is mine - you. Yours - you're all mine."

It’s possessive, but, you’re not all incorrect.

"Yeah," she more than agrees.

There's a ribbon-taut quality in the way it leaves her mouth, the tension in her body coiled up through to the bones. She makes it sound like the beginning of a promise, the beginning of something much larger.

And by the way." She’s still buttoning her shirt. Putting herself together. You’ve seen the triage, the damage control. This is the Yuna you get.

So, she needs the second - a respite to lick a stray stripe of slick and cum off her wrist - blotting her cheeks with a ball of wet tissue, until all that's left is the smeared lipstick, her stockings splayed around the floor. The pattern you've worn, where your fingerprints would've shown, gets covered up under her skirt and her coat, wrapped up in a scarf.

The smug satisfaction in her tone pulls your focus, just in time, her hair's falling in waves down her shoulders - perfect, but not flawless: there's a creased line, a hint of her throat, just beneath the collar. There's a slight wisp out of place. The buttons aren't arranged all the way from her collar to her sternum.

"I'm going to go with that photoset, with the white top, in the sand - gonna post 'em online and generate some buzz. You even said it yourself: they're fine. " She pauses, pushing away a strand of hair. "Professionally, of course."

"Professionalism." You smile. "Of course."

She walks out carrying the stilettos: pumps in either hand.

"Always. Catch you soon," she promises, and you do catch a last flash of her expression, lips parted, the lower curving into a satisfied smile, right as she flicks the lock on the door open and your office goes back to quiet.

For a split second, it's unbearable: the silence.

And you think again.

She can have anything, get any boy, girl, whoever, any designer, photographer, make-up artist in the world; there's something so unmistakably intoxicating about the fact that the thing she's decided she wants, is you.

#yuna smut #itzy smut #itzy yuna smut #male reader smut #kpop fanfic

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violet-butterflies · 10 months

Text

❥︎ yandere! Dilf Part 2

❥︎ Warnings ! ☞︎︎︎ drugging, stalking, delusional, doing things without consent, masturbation, NSFW ( male yandere! oc x female reader ) Click to see part 1 and part 3 !

"You wanna join daddy and mommy in bed, Yoon?"

The four-year-old nodded at his dad cutely as he climbed onto the bed, right between an unconscious woman and his dad. As soon as the four-year-old was comfortable, his dad took both his son and the sleeping woman. He then kissed the cheeks of both his son and the woman in his arms.

"I wuv you daddy..." the kid sleepily said to his dad as he let out a big yawn. His dad let out a loving smile as soon as his son said the adorable statement.

"I love you too buddy... What about mommy? Do you love mommy?"

"Mhm! But... why can't I call her mommy daddy?" Yoon asked as he tried his best to keep his eyes open to listen to his dad's answer.

"Mommy doesn't know that she's a mommy yet... It's a big surprise and we'll tell her soon!"

It never occurred to Junho (yandere! dilf) that his perfect mirage of a family would be broken anytime soon. He's always followed a very specific routine that rarely changes. It's always dropping his son to kindergarten, working until it was time for his son to go home, watching the hidden cameras in his house as y/n brings his son home to babysit. Then, it was either drugging the girl so she would be knocked out on his bed and in his arms or letting her go home and watching her in her house through a hidden camera he planted in a teddy bear he gave her.

He was stuck inside of a fantasy where you were his wife and living a domesticated life with him and his son. One day that fantasy will come true, Junho is definitely dedicated to making that dream a reality, however, why rush when he has all the time in the world?

After all, y/n was always under his watch so at this point he knows everything about her!

"Junho! So I have this barbeque party that I'm gonna host at my place next week. You and Yoon should totally come!" y/n invited one day before going back to her place.

"Barbeque party? That sounds fun! What's the occasion?" Junho curiously asked as an asleep Yoon was carried in his arms.

She giggled before answering, "It's a secret until the party!"

y/n then said her last goodbyes before walking out of the door, leaving a curious Junho standing at his front door.

A secret? What is she hiding that Junho could possibly not know about? To be completely honest, Junho did not like surprises at all. He likes to know as many things as he can and a surprise could either be bad or good.

Junho grumbled his way into his son's room to tuck his lovely son before sliding into his room. He plopped himself on his king-sized bed before trying to go to sleep and yet, he couldn't.

After tossing and turning a couple of times, he decided to take something out of his nightstand drawer.

It was y/n's panties.

Junho always felt guilty when he has to take the article of clothing out. He never likes it when he does something behind your back, especially something so lewd.

With one swift move, he took off his sweatpants before bringing one of his large hands that clenched onto y/n's panties over his nose. The other hand, went to his cock which was already beginning to get hard at the thought of masturbating using the panties of the woman he loves. It's not the proudest thing he's ever done but, it was the closest thing he has to making love with his beloved girl.

"Oh y/n... My beloved wife," he sighed after taking a whiff of the scent the panties held. His other hand was furiously moving on his angry cock as he desperately needed a release. His head was filled with images of a naked y/n under his body, moaning beautiful noises and holding his muscular body tightly with her soft hands.

With one last grunt, he released white strings of cum all over his hand and stomach. Sighing for the final time, the carefully made sure to put the panties safely into his drawer without it touching any of his cum (because that means he would have to wash it and that would make all her scent disappear) before lying back into bed.

Now he was tired and ready for bed and he did exactly that, falling asleep before post-nut clarity decides to bug him with any unwanted thoughts.

The week after, a casually dressed-up Junho and his excited son, Yoon, were waiting in front of y/n's front door. Multiple cars were parked around her house, all probably belonging to the other guests who were also invited to her barbeque party.

"Ah, Junho and Yoon! Please come in! We just finished grilling the first batch of food!"

Junho and Yoon eagerly walked in, Junho taking in all of the details of his beloved (soon-to-be) wife's house since it was his first time really being inside.

The muscular man recognized some of the guests that attended the party; those guests being some of the other teachers from the kindergarten she taught in.

Junho got to mingle with some of y/n's friends as he and his son ate the wonderful food prepared at the party. It made him feel closer to you now that he's met the people you surrounded yourself with and it was also a treat to see his own son getting along with some of the kids present; happy laughter and chatter filling up the wide backyard.

"Ok can I please have all of your attention please?" y/n's sweet voice asked while she softly hit the back of a spoon to her glass with to get everyone's attention.

All chatter suddenly halted as all eyes were on the h/c (hair colored) woman smiling happily.

"So, I'm sure that you all are very curious as to why I suddenly held a barbeque party," y/n started, "And it's also been very hard hiding this surprise from the closest people I know. But, I wanted to make it a special event since it is something that would only happen once in a lifetime."

For some reason, Junho had a terrible feeling in his stomach. He had an inkling of a thought that suggested that whatever y/n was about to announce would be something that could absolutely destroy him but, for her, he chose to keep a bated breath as he waited for this big surprise.

Junho watched as her hands held another man's hands to help him stand up, a loving gaze present in both of their eyes.

'No please don't do this to me.'

The foreign man then kissed his beloved's cheeks tenderly making her lips stretch into a wide smile.

'It's not what I think it is right? It can't be it right?'

She then showed off a diamond ring on her finger with a giggle that would've sounded melodic if Junho was the one to be the reason behind it.

'This has to be a joke right?!'

"Everyone meet Josh, my fiance! I'm getting married soon!"

At that moment, Junho felt his perfect daydream be painfully ripped away from him as his heart stopped at the announcement.

A/N Please send help I wrote this chapter after playing League of Legends for 13 hours straight. My back is so sore ouch. I wasn't gonna leave you all on a cliffhanger but the post was getting super long and my back is slowly transforming me into a shrimp.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this upload, and keep an eye out for part 3!

#tw: stalking #tw: yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #lovesick #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere dilf #yandere dilf x reader #obsession #obsessive love #yandere blog #obsessive yandere #yandere drabble #smut #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #delusional

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anantaru · 2 years

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𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐍𝐍

୨୧ how long they last during no nut november feat. childe : ayato : kazuha : cyno : kaveh : diluc : al-haitham : scaramouche x fem! reader

୨୧ WARNINGS: nsfw

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄

the first time you suggested to him to participate in it, childe blatantly refused, he was very much aware that there wasn't a chance for him to win in the slightest. Yet after giving it some thoughts he decided to give it a try, he's never running away from a fight and this in particular, was a fight on its own. It wasn't until the first day hit him, when he saw you. You had just woken up, the sleep still visible in your eyes as you greeted him lovingly.

who thought it was a good idea for him to sleep next to you? not to mention that you were wearing nothing more than your underwear, those tiny panties hugging your figure perfectly. "what is it?", you murmured softly towards his direction, a small smirk prancing over the corners of your lips. "fuck it." ajax was sexual excited in an instant, even though his brain told him to back off he just couldn't as he walked towards you, wrapping his arms around your body before kissing you starvingly.

he didn't waste any time to slide his cold fingers past the elastic of your panties, dragging his digits over your folds. You gasped out, questioning the man in front of you if he perhaps forgot that he was actually planning to pull through that annoying little competition of yours, "this is torture, please don't make me do this again." he whined out in between kisses, his fingers working in tandem as you let out a breathy laugh, hugging him back into your embrace.

𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐓𝐎

ayato wasn't sure why you would possibly think he'd actually fail the little competition you had prepared for him. He was busy all day, barely able to see you during the day and surely at night time he'd be too tired for anything more than a few cuddles anyways. What for some reason, he did not take into his calculations, was the sudden rush of frustration prickling through his veins like an electric current, he was powerless against it, couldn't turn those feelings off either.

he slid under the soft blankets after showering, his muscles sore from being at work all day while his hair was slightly damp, sticking on his forehead. You waited for him, as always, his arm wrapping around your waist as he laid his head in the nook of your neck, taking in your scent. Ayato started to get nervous whenever you'd shift in the bed, you weren‘t facing him as you talked about the various things you did today with the plush of your ass brushing over his member.

he closed his eyes, cursing himself underneath his breath, trying to not give into the sensation that was building in his gut right now as he added more strength to the grip on your hips, fingernails digging into your soft skin. His stomach was tightening, blood rushing through his veins when you noticed something rather hard poke at your ass, "are you?" you questioned in a low tone, yet it was immediately noticeable how hilarious you found the situation. Ayato groaned as a response before humming into your neck, the vibration traveling from your ear to your body, leaving a soft trail of kisses before sinking his teeth down, "i don't think i can do this all month."

𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀

kazuha's love language was always physical touch, it didn't necessarily had to be sexual, most of the times it was him holding your hand in his or simply lazily looping his arm around your shoulder to keep you close. Of course, he figured, it wouldn't be a problem for him to still do those things, but damn, you made it so incredibly difficult. Your eyes wandered over his face, a light curve in your lips as you shuffled in your seat to sit more comfortably.

his thoughts were scattering to sinful desires upon seeing your dress slightly draped up your hips, exposing just a bit of your panties to him. Kazuha swallowed thickly, his heart thumping in his chest as you noticed the way he'd nervously chew on his cheeks, face flushed a faint layer of redness. "oh, sorry." you giggled, pulling down your dress as he took another deep breath before reaching his hand over to you. The expression on your face was confused, tilting your head a little before standing up regardless, walking towards him to take his hand in yours.

your chest heaved as he abruptly, drew you on his lap, caging you in with his hands. "you did that on purpose." he whispered, low and heavy as you shook your head, yet your smile made it more than obvious that you were not saying the whole truth. Your eyes widened as kazuha bucked his hand under your dress, cupping your heat, "i thought we said we'd never lie to each other?" his chuckle formed into a purr, voice breathier than you knew it, his fingers scraping over the spongy flesh to stimulate you, "even if i lost, i count it as a victory."

𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇

𝐂𝐘𝐍𝐎

"i was so close." cyno muttered, his warm breath hovering over your wet core before your muscles tensed, digging your heels into the bed to slightly lift your hips up to him. Your body jolted forward into his mouth, cyno was devouring you, flicking his tongue over your folds to finally taste you again. It has barely been two weeks, yet it was so incredibly stressful, his body getting off from merely your voice, all form of self control turned into nothing.

"you did a good job." you chuckled, biting and chewing on your lower lip to muffle a moan as he continued to map it out, leaving nothing unturned with his tongue. you could sense a little sting of his sharp teeth grazing over the pulsating flesh, his brows furrowing in concentration when he circled his arms around your hips to have a tight grip on you. Cyno truly couldn't take his eyes off you, your folds glistering as he began to suck on them, humming in pleasure when his spit melted with your essence.

sweat was beautifying your skin, your mouth hanging open with every moan falling to deaf ears. Cyno fluttered his eyes open to look at the sinful expression on your face, his cock throbbing in his pants, waiting to be finally freed by you. It was painful to him, the last time he actually had an orgasm was weeks ago, involuntarily humping the mattress underneath him as every nerve in him felt like on fire, catching his breath before grinding his tongue into your cunt again.

𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇

"fuck." kaveh cursed out in between making out with you, "i was so close baby, i really was." he complained, digging his fingernails into your hips while rutting himself into your heat. "but it got so unbearable, you don't even know half of it." you couldn't help it but laugh at his words, he was so overdramatic, wrapping your arms around his neck before slightly repositioning your hips. You bended your knees a bit more so he could reach further into you, your legs spread open.

kaveh sank into your hole, his cock twitching against your walls when he dropped his hips into your warmth. "that's so much better, don't you think?" he questioned with the answer clearly displayed on your expression that showed nothing but pleasure. You sighed out, lowering your eyes as you watched him through your lashes, his pace becoming even with shallow breaths tickling your neck.

kaveh felt how you clenched down around his girth, how you whined at every thrust forward as he looked in between your bodies, quickly licking his thumb before placing it on your clit to swipe it over the sensitive nerves. Your body jolted forward, tossing your head into the pillow as you cried out his name in fast chants, your legs shivering around his body. Your noises turned into cries, melting and unraveling underneath him as his grip on you tightened, not giving a single fuck anymore that he lost the small competition between the both of you.

𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂

by the end of the month, you're going to be a whiny little mess while diluc will simply sit next to you, bright smile, with a triumphal expression painted on his face. If he's determined to do something, he will push through it until its done, there was no losing in his eyes, only victory to be claimed. Contrary to popular belief, your boyfriend had a sense of humor, even though he didn't show it often he wouldn't pass on an opportunity to joke about it to you in a lighthearted manner.

he had you spread on the bed by the end, his breath hot on your shoulder as he licked all the way down to your collarbone, biting down. "how did i do?" he asked cheekily, flashing you his canine teeth with a smile, your lips pouting as you whined out, the words dying in your throat. Diluc hummed, moving closer to your ear while spreading your legs so he'd rest in between them.

"i'll give you what you want now." he promised, rolling the words off slowly as he slid himself in, your cunt sweet and tight taking him all in. You arched your spine into his body, tossing your head to the side when you moaned his name prettily. You weren't able to understand how diluc seemed to have gotten through this month without a slip up, his determination was otherworldly as he decided for a slow but deep pace, your mind empty as your body grew hotter, warmer with a prickling sensation dashing through your veins.

𝐀𝐋-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌

"you did so well." you cooed into al-haitham's ear, pecking his rosy cheeks before kissing his lips, muffling the tiny groans that escaped his throat. Your hand caressed his soft, pale skin, trailing your fingers over the aching muscles of his chest all the way down to his stomach. Al-haitham slid his hand into his hair to smooth it back, watching you work on his belt to free his cock from its restraints.

his eyes met yours in full force, "i told you I'd pull through." he proudly stated his victory, before his breath hitched, getting stuck in his throat. your hand was wrapped around his shaft, his pants pulled down to his knees as you didn't bother to fully getting rid of them. You spoke in low whispers, sweet chants only for him to hear as you circled your wrist around his shaft, fisting his stiff cock.

playful rubbing turned into skilled stroking, his hips bucking into your hand each and every time. "fuck, i missed that." he admitted bluntly without a care in the world, the curve in his lips evident as his breath came out in fastened spurts with a sigh of relief accompanying them. The sweet tenderness of your hold on him was to die for, his muscles turning tense as he moaned out, gasping frantically as he came, the warm white ropes of cum running down your knuckles. His his hips stuttered, continuing to buck into you when convulsed in great pleasure.

𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄

there's no way in hell he would've ever lost, not in a million years, scaramouche was pulling through that rough month with a determination you've never seen before. "you didn't think I'd actually win, admit it." his smirk was wide, his voice hoarse with a sprinkle of lust in it. He was watching your every move, a wry smile on his face with an amused twinkle in his eyes, the way you squirmed underneath him was making him lick his lips in anticipation.

"don't worry, i won't tease you tonight." your face was clouded in confused upon hearing him speak his words, not buying it, "i can be nice too, you know." scaramouche spread his fingers to brush them over your belly, feeling your skin underneath his pads. His eyelids fluttered low before pressing himself on top of you with one of his hands right above your head— so you wouldn't hit your head on the headboard. You bent your knees, spreading your legs wider so he'd be able to thrust his hips better into you, his tip already prodding on your little hole.

the stretch was painful at first, you missed that feeling and so did he, truth was, scaramouche simply couldn't tease you tonight, it had nothing to do with him being nice for once. He was more than riled up, frustrated and annoyed with the burn that would always occur in his legs and never fade away. Scaramouche placed his lower lips in between his teeth, his brows furrowing in concentration as he slid himself in until fully sheathed, splitting your cunt open and fuck, he dreamed about this every day, the overbearing sensitivity only adding into his play.

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de4dlyniightshade · 6 months

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munch! spencer, reader with migraine, spencer reads something about how orgasms can help with pain

꩜ warning!: this post is +18!!! mdni!

꩜ word count: 1.6k (got a little carried away;-;)

꩜ A/N: honestly i don't rlly like this but hopefully it's good enough :,)

You let out a quiet groan in pain as you squinted your eyes at the tv, trying to watch your favourite show but the light from the screen only made your throbbing headache worse, to the point it was almost unbearable.

"Another migraine?" Spencer asked quietly from the other end of the sofa as he looked up from his book, keeping his voice low so as to not make it any worse. You just nodded, holding your head in your hand and letting your eyes close, feeling slight relief from the light no longer beaming into your eyes.

You didn't get migraines all that often but when you did they could be pretty bad and Spencer hated seeing you in pain and hated the fact that there was nothing he could do to fix it even more, or so he thought. He'd spent hours researching ways to alleviate your pain after your last migraine, which got so bad that it practically debilitated you and you couldn't do anything but sit in a darkened room for hours until it passed.

After reading countless articles and blogs a unanimous opinion was that an orgasm relieves a large amount of the pain, one woman going as far to say that hers was completely gone afterwards. Honestly the remedy was a complete win-win, he'd be able to help you and make you feel better and he'd also get to do his absolute favourite thing at the same time, which just so happened to be eating you out.

"Do you want me to help?" Spencer suggested, laying his book down on your coffee table and turning to face you, a slightly excited feeling bubbling in his chest.

"Remember nothing worked last time, Spence" you murmured, sighing at the realisation that you'd probably end up back in your bedroom, cocooned under blankets for your unforeseeable future. You felt Spencer shift closer to you and you could practically feel the excitement radiating from him, knowing that meant he'd found some scientific way to help you and wanted to try it.

"I researched a lot about migraines and how to help you since the last one and the method that came up almost every time was that a sexual release would alleviate a large amount of the pain and i was thinking maybe..." he didn't even have to finish his sentence for you to know what he was thinking, as soon as he uttered the word "sexual" you knew what he had in mind.

"You seriously think it'll work?" Your tone was hopeful and you were prepared to try anything at this point, feeling your pain slowly worsen the more time went on. you'd tried almost every other remedy you'd been suggested by friends and nothing had worked even a little and painkillers did nothing for you no matter how many you took.

"It's worth a try," Spencer smiled, resting his hand on your lower back. you knew he wasn't just doing this for himself, it was just convenient that he loved nothing more than to be buried between your legs.

"Alright, but if this doesn't work I'm not gonna be happy" you were only half serious, you were happy to let Spencer run his little experiment, considering that if it did work, you'd both not have a migraine anymore and would have had an incredible orgasm, so either way, you got something out of the experience.

You watched as Spencer moved to turn off the TV, leaving just a lamp on so that it was light enough that he could still see but dark enough that it wouldn't hurt your head so much.

You quickly hooked your fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pants, lifting your hips to tug them down over your ass and slide them down your legs, kicking them to the side to deal with later as Spencer moved to eagerly kneel in front of you, placing his hands behind your knees and leaning down to press a chaste kiss just above your left knee.

You smiled as you slowly spread your legs apart, watching Spencer's eyes glint with anticipation. You already knew the drill—moving to place your legs over his shoulders the way he liked it and shifting forward on the sofa to give him better access.

Spencer didn't waste any time with teasing, reminding himself that this wasn't for him, no matter how much he enjoyed it; this was an attempt to alleviate your pain.

You let out a sigh as you felt his warm tongue lick a bold stripe up your folds before he circled your clit, moaning quietly at your taste that he'd grown to love so much.

You tangled your fingers in his hair as he buried his face deeper into you, urging your thighs apart to lap at your pussy, your quiet whines and moans egging him on as he took your clit into his mouth, sucking and licking at your sensitive nub, the stimulation making you twitch and grip his hair tighter, rolling your hips into his face as you let your head fall back against the couch.

Spencer wrapped his hands around your thighs as he nuzzled his face into you, making sure to get as close as possible to you so that he could dip his tongue into your entrance. The feeling of his warm, wet tongue pushing into you causing you to arch your back, a loud gasp falling from your lips, your migraine long forgotten.

"F-fuck spence," you whined as you tugged on his hair desperately, letting yourself grind into his mouth. Spencer continued his ministrations on your sensitive cunt, drinking in everything you had to give him with pleasure as he whined into your wantonly.

You felt Spencer push one of your legs to the side, and instantly you got the message, lifting your leg to sling it over the arm of the couch to give him access. You couldn't help but gasp when you felt his middle and index fingers prod at your entrance, teasing your hole briefly before he began slowly sliding them in. The copious amount of saliva and your arousal making it easy.

"Oh, f-fuck!" you moaned out as you felt his fingertips curl right into your g-spot, the mixture of his mouth on your clit and his fingers pressing right into that spot that made your toes curl, making your mind go completely blank as you whimpered and moaned, his name falling from your lips in breathy gasps.

Spencer began massaging his fingers into your g-spot, drawing needy moans from your lips as he brought you closer to your release, revelling in the way you moaned his name and the way that your walls clenched around his fingers.

You got completely lost in the pleasure as you rutted your hips into his face, gripping his hair harshly and pushing his face into you. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach tighten as you squirmed and shuddered, the feeling of Spencer's fingers nonstop stimulating your sensitive spot making you a needy mess.

"C-close! 'm close, Spence." Your voice was high-pitched and whiny as you warned him, Spencer only pushing his fingers harder into you, the action pulling a loud moan from your throat as your body began to shake and tremble.

You couldn't help but sling your leg back over Spencer's shoulder, letting your thighs clench around his head as you felt your orgasm approaching. Spencer's tongue never letting up his brutal sucking and licking on your clit, sending shockwaves through your body.

Spencer began moaning and whining into you, the sounds sending vibrations through your sensitive cunt and making you cry out in pleasure as your breath came out in gasps and huffs, your whole body tending as you felt your release dangerously close.

"G-god spence, I'm gonna c-cum!" You practically wailed with no regard for how loud you were being, letting out a constant slew of desperate noises when Spencer massaged your soft spot more precisely, coaxing you to your release as he sucked harshly on your clit.

Spencer let out an especially loud moan as you tugged on his hair, the intense vibrations sending you over the edge as your mouth dropped open in a silent scream, your whole body shaking and writhing as your release gushed around Spencer's fingers that continued to curl into you, coaxing you through your orgasm while he gently licked at your clit.

You were breathing heavily and still shaking slightly when Spencer slowly pulled his fingers from your sopping cunt, wincing slightly as his skin dragged against your sensitive walls. You watched as he buried his fingers in his mouth, cleaning off your release like he always did, sighing at the taste before he pulled them out and leaned back in, dipping his tongue into your slit to lap up everything he could, not daring to waste any of it.

Spencer leaned his cheek on your knee when he was satisfied, looking up at you through his lashes as you lay completely fucked out with your eyes closed, a beautifully content expression on your face.

"How do you feel?" he asked quietly, watching as you cracked your eyes open and furrowed your brows, scanning around the room and sitting up slightly, a smile spreading across your lips as you looked back down at him.

"I feel...great?!" You laughed slightly, completely fascinated by the effectiveness but also relieved that you'd found something that worked, both for you and for him. Spencer couldn't hide the wide smile that adorned his lips. He was overjoyed that his method worked as he pressed gentle kisses up your leg before he situated himself beside you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and sighing.

"i'm glad"

(dookie ass ending again ik</3 i need to work on that :,)

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loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year

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PLEASE! I BEG THAT YOU WRITE AN MIGUEL O’HARA FICTION! IM BEGGING!! PLEASEE!!!! (Sorry if I come off harsh)

Ask and you shall receive!! A quick thing I wrote (not proofread), thanks for the ask <3

Touch

Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel misbehaves. You teach him a lesson. part one maybe?? idk y'all let me know if u want a pt 2. (Part 2 is out!)

warnings: pwp!! light f-dom, angry (ish??) sex, grinding, slight m-sub, (m) begging. mostly just filth. I am soooo desperate for any character played by Oscar Isaac. 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: I apologise in advance, native Spanish speakers. Me and reverso tried our best.

wc: 1.4k

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A great crash from the workshop has you running from all the way in the kitchen, apron still on.

He looks tired, hunched over his desk. Great hulking shoulders hang, tense in the dim light of a single lamp.

"Miguel?" It's soft, in the metallic hum of lights. "Everything okay?"

He shifts, looking over his shoulder at you. "M'sorry for the noise mi sol, just tired."

"...maybe it's time to call it a night, baby."

He waves you off with a flick of the wrist. "Give me ten minutes, I'll come to bed."

"That's what you said half an hour ago, Miggy." It's under your breath but loud enough that his super senses pick it up.Your voice is fraught, frustrated - no doubt at the nights he'd spent away from you. Whether coming back late from tinkering in his workshop, or on the streets; he'd meet you fast asleep in bed, and wake up to an early morning rush. Either way, he seemed like a stranger in your own home; consumed with his work. It was taking its toll.

You pad back, returning to the kitchen in silence. You clean up the remnants of a dinner Miguel had picked at, sighing. You loved him, and you knew he loved you; but he lived in his own world sometimes. Sure, the world needed him; but what about you? After everything you had given each other, how could he discard you so easily?

It's only after a while Miguel realises the noises of you clearing up have long subsided, that he heads into the kitchen to investigate. It's meticulously clean, your apron hanging up on its peg by the door. On the counter, the remainder of his dinner boxed up in tupperware, with a post-it-note on the lid. 'For Miggy <;3' , it reads.

His heart aches as he walks towards your room. You're dressed in nothing but his t-shirt, knees drawn and curled up into yourself. He slides into bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"Mi vida?" He mumbles. "Mi vida, I know you're awake."

You respond with an unceremonious grunt, back still turned. You're mad at him, and he deserves it.

"I'm sorry." He says, listening to the rise and fall of your chest in the dark. He sits up. Sighing, he cradles your arm, tracing circles into the flesh. Gentle, and oh so soft. "I'm an idiot, you know that. I fucked up. Couldn't see how much you were hurting."

You stir, turning to face him. In the neon lights that stream into your room, his face falls. He brings a hesitant hand to cup at your cheek.

"Say something. Please." Imperciptably, he watches your eyes fall to his lips.

You kiss him, passionate and hot and angry. He can barely breathe when you envelope your plush lips around his, snaking your hand towards his back. You claw at his shirt, raking a hand into his hair. When you separate, it's obscene; a sliver of saliva still connecting his lips to yours. His scarlet eyes are low as he licks his lips; chasing your taste. You both sit up.

"You haven't touched me in weeks, Miguel." Your voice is dangerously low, hand wrapped around his neck.

He wraps strong hands around your waist, guiding you to straddle him. For once, he's grateful for the flimsy fabric of his t-shirt - thin around the apex of your pebbled nipples. He paws at your hips, hands trailing towards your bare thighs. Just as they come to rest towards their crook, you snatch his hands away.

"Let me make it up to you," He hisses at the contact, leaning into your touch. "Por favor, sólo una probadita, just a taste, my love."

"No touching." Dramatic, he protests, cursing in Spanish before you bring a thumb to his mouth to silence him.

"No. Touching."

Eyes lidded, looking up at you, it takes everything not to break; you fight the urge to kiss the tip of his nose and whisper praise into the crook of his neck. Instead, you coax your thumb into his mouth; as he swirls his tongue around it, like he would on your clit. Miguel savors it like the sweetest honey, grateful you'll even touch him considering how he's been acting.

He swells in his pants, hard as the crotch of his sweats graze your bare pussy. Beautiful tits pressed against his chest, you draw small circles with your waist against the seat of his crotch. Precum spills as his hips jump up to meet you, desperate for contact.

Immediately, you stop. With a pop, you pull your thumb from his mouth and Miguel moans at the loss.

"Mierda. Baby, please-"

"No. Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to use you to get off. You're gonna watch, if you're lucky. And then I'm…" You swirl your hips, causing him to groan. "... going to bed."

"¿Entiendes?" You croon, spiteful in the slow sway of your hips. "Do you understand, Miguel?"

"-f-fuck, ok, ok-" Desperately nodding, he grips the sheets by his side. Closing his eyes to steady himself, he slumps his head on your shoulder. God, he's trying so, so hard not to cum right there; turned on by the lull of your sweet voice. He likes it when you get angry and treat him like a toy - painfully hard at the way you light him on fire. Everything about you; your scent, the way you taste, the grip you have in his hair; turns his senses up to eleven.

You grind on his crotch, steadying yourself with your other hand on his shoulder. Plush lip tucked under your teeth, it takes all his willpower not to capture you in another kiss: hungry and consuming and overpowering. He can tell you're serious; everytime he grinds his crotch into yours, you will yourself to stop and tighten your grip.

"Miguel…" You warn, moaning softly into his ear. "I m-meant what I said…"

When his hips snap up the third time; you growl, frustrated. Both your hands move to his chest, pushing him down onto the mattress so he's on his back. He looks good like this; at your mercy and putty under your hands. You push up the lip of his shirt to expose his midsection and pull down his sweats. A happy trail snakes down to his neatly trimmed cock; its deliciously curved tip springing free. Precum covers his cock, so when you slide him between the lips of your pussy it glides like he was made for you. You bite down on your lip so hard, it almost bleeds.

With this new angle, you plant your hands by his head; grinding your clit onto his dick desperately. The slick sounds drive Miguel crazy, and when his hands fly to your waist to help you along, you don't move them.

"You're s-so pretty, mi vida… prettiest thing I've ever seen. Need it. Need you. Use me, please, hump my cock like I'm your toy, p-please, please…"

He knows your body better than you do. You're close, dangerously near the edge. With the way your thigh shakes and the spasms that slow your rhythm, he knows. You don't break eye contact with him under you, moaning as you slide on his cock. Desperate, you chase that sweet spot, electric when he angles your hips just so…

"M'gonna cum, fuck, Miggy-" You writhe desperately. He's close, too, shamelessly humping your pussy like a feral animal. He can taste it; white hot at the tip of his tongue. Finally, you cum: a leg shaking, biting orgasm that rips through you. You clench around nothing, but it's not enough for him. So, so close; and it's ripped away from him when you come down, in the aftermath.

Unceremoniously, you pant and roll off of him; spread-eagle atop the sheets. Miggy curses softly at his ruined orgasm - still rock hard. He's glad you feel good, but he knows he can make you feel better, broad hands pawing at your hips. You slap them off, and turn your back pointedly. The slope and curve of your ass taunts him.

"Fuck off, Miguel."

"Baby, I'm sor-"

"Fuck. Off."

Sighing, he takes the hint. Grabbing the pillow, he pads off to the sofa in your living room, adjusting his hard on. He'd give you your space, tonight, and begin to win you back tomorrow morning. He needs you, more than you'd ever know.

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #smut #spiderman 2099 x reader #light angst #cuz i can't help myself #kat_writes😼#miguel o hara x reader

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joonsytip · 6 months

Text

Withering for You || Seungcheol- Part 3

Pairings: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, CEO! Seungcheol au, Husband! Seungcheol au, Wife! Reader au, Music Teacher! Reader au, Arranged Marriage au, College Sweetheart au, Exes to Lovers au

Synopsis: When you are arranged married to the man, whose heart you had broken years ago, even dreaming about mending things seems next to impossible when he has been holding grudge for all these only to return it to you tenfold.

Warnings (specific to this part): suggestive, crying, profanities, love blooms, mentions of infidelity (doesn't happen to though), mention of alcohol consumption, betrayal, rock bottom, italics represents occurrences in past

Word Count: 6.4k

TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES IS CLOSED!

Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

Seungcheol is distressed. He thinks something is wrong with you. Though he had dismissed all the previous occurrences, he can't do it anymore. You're distant nowadays. You don't kiss him goodbyes. You don't say the 'I love you's. You're always ditching him at any chance given. You don't let him sneak into your sheets.

The inseparable godly campus couple are barely seen together nowadays. The rumours are being spread. Some are worried, some are happy. Though you both had no secrets, Seungcheol still thinks you must have your own reasons if you're keeping something upto yourself. He tries his best to be patient and waits for you to come back because he trusts you.

Seungcheol is an enigma. He's sculpted, he's hella smart, he's hella rich. The girls lined up outside the dorm just to catch a glimpse of him. The guys hogged out his dorm room just to know how can someone be a full package.

He knew people would either love him for his looks or mostly for his money. He had no hope of making genuine friends until he came across Wonwoo, a scholarship student, who was aloof and coincidentally his assigned roommate.

If Seungcheol thought he was good at pushing people away, he was amazed to see Wonwoo. Sharing the dorm room with him was almost living alone. Seungcheol couldn't pinpoint why but he knew Wonwoo hated him. So one day after gathering courage and confronting him, Seungcheol comes to know about his cautiousness against rich people in general. Then one talk lead to two, two lead to three and that's how Seungcheol and Wonwoo became friends.

He was sure he wouldn't find love until you came in the picture.

A hard slap comes against Seungcheol's cheek and the whole campus becomes eerily silent.

"How dare you submit my assignment in your name?", you are fuming in rage and raise your hand to slap him again when he holds your hand mid air.

"What the hell are you talking about?", he hisses through his teeth.

You scoff, "The audacity to pretend, Mr. Choi Seungcheol. Just because you have looks and money which you have no contribution in, you think you've conquered the world.", you free your arm from his grip, "Come to the professor's cabin at 2 or else I'll skin you alive. Pathetic loser."

You walk away but Seungcheol has his head spinning. He doesn't get why he got slapped out of nowhere and why the hell would he submit your assignment in his name when he doesn't even know you.

Then the lightbulb in his head goes off.

He immediately corners Jiah.

"What have you done?", he asks angrily.

Jiah is sweating, when she had assured Seungcheol that she would take care of the assignment because he had to aid his father with some business work and would be out of the country for two weeks, she didn't foresee herself completely forgetting about it.

So when she saw a binder kept on a desk, she silently took it and attached Seungcheol's name and details on it, tearing away the original owner's details.

Confident that even if someone caught onto it, they would let it slide just to get on Seungcheol's good side, she never thought it would backfire so bad.

Hence, Seungcheol is currently standing in the professor's cabin admitting to the wrong, head hung low.

You stand straight, head high also glaring at the professor, "What if he had not admitted to doing it? You'd have my whole work credited to him. Next time if something like this happens under my watch, I'll report it to the committee."

The professor gulps nervously and you are walking out not sparing another second.

That's where it all begun. Him knowing your name from the professor and chasing you down to apologise. You unabashedly giving him lectures on authenticity and ethics whenever he approached you.

You frequently get to see him, coincidentally or not. Him trying to make small talks, you ending his approach with an one word answer and moving ahead.

"Are you stalking me?", comes your sudden question one day.

"No, but I do look forward to seeing you, talking to you.", comes his honest answer.

He notices, you also like to keep your circle small. You're seen everywhere with the same two people. Now it's your turn to be amused when one day Mingyu insists on bringing Seungcheol to the musical, the one in which you've contributed to the background score. You're left embarrassed when at the end of the show he yells your name and applauds the loudest because he is mesmerized. That night he treats the whole team to dinner.

"I think Seungcheol likes you.", Eunsoo tells you one day.

"The almighty Choi Seungcheol?", you are laughing, "Soo, I don't match his social status. Have you seen those plastic heiress chasing him? I had even slapped him infront of the whole campus."

"Look, we have become good friends but I do know he approached me because of you.", Mingyu admits, "He definitely likes you."

"Do you like him?", Eunsoo asks you.

"Why would I like him?", you ponder.

Wonwoo is an observer. And with his special skill he deducts that his friend must have had his heart taken.

"So who's the one?", he asks one night when they're both getting ready for bed.

"Who's who?", Seungcheol asks confused.

"The one you like."

"Am I that obvious?"

"Yes. Please it be anyone except for Jiah, I can't tolerate her. Anyways, I know it wouldn't be her...", then Wonwoo goes on about how he spends less time in the dorm room nowadays. How he's always wandering around in the campus which he never did before. How he's consistent in attending the same two specific lectures.

"It's Y/N.", he says shyly, hiding his face behind his palms.

"No wonder, you're a masochist.", Wonwoo lays down on bed, "You like the girl who slapped you."

Seungcheol gasps, utterly embarassed, "Stop blabbering nonsense!"

When he asks you out, instead of being taken out to a fancy restaurant as initially planned you request him to go on a movie date.

It took you five dates to make him know you.

"We don't belong to the same class, Seungcheol."

"I'm not looking for anything temporary, Seungcheol."

"I don't enjoy the luxuries, I'd rather achieve everything on my own, Cheol."

"I like to keep my circle small amd private. Nothing extravagant."

"I like you too but would you accept me after knowing all this?"

The response from him comes as strong as a whirlwind in the form a deep kiss. You might have been hesitant at start but he has always been sure.

Things have gotten better since your birthday. Seungcheol's hostility towards you has decreased and though you want to question him about this certain change, those take a backseat just to not lose what you have at this moment.

He snarks at you less. Listens if you have something to say. Checks upon you occassionally. Wears the attire you choose for him, you both have breakfast & dinner together. But you still sleep in separate rooms but after intimate nights he doesn't leave, rather sleeps in nowadays.

"You should never trust him.", says Chan from the other end.

"What if he's really changed?", you tell him, "Maybe he has finally got that all this revenge agenda is worthless if you can be with the person you love."

"Just ask him.", Chan insists, "You need to understand that being in denial would only hurt you so confront him."

"Okay, if you insist."

Wonwoo is suspicious of Seungcheol. He too like Chan isn't convinced that Seungcheol could change overnight. So he secretly keeps the tabs on him. The fact which disturbs him is Jiah is happy nowadays. If your relationship with Seungcheol improves then Jiah would be anything but happy which leaves him skeptical.

"Don't do anything you'd regret later.", he warns Seungcheol one day. The latter just shrugs off.

Seungcheol was escatic when he started first. It was fun for him to watch how you'd easily trust him. A piece of calk to make you a fool he thought.

He acts as a considering husband in front of you but schemes your downfall behind your back.

"One of those busy days?", he asks one day when he sees you returning from the academy late. It totally catches you off guard but that simple gesture makes you visibily beam as well which doesn't go unnoticed by your husband. He then proceeds to fake concern and show interest when you talk it out.

"How about we go to watch a movie?", he asks one night when you both finish having dinner.

"Will you be able to make time for that?", you ask concerned.

Next, he's grabbing your hand and dragging you out.

"We're in our pyjamas, we can't go out like this, Seungcheol!", you yell in panic when you get his motive.

He doesn't lend you an ear throughout the ride while he's driving you both to the theatre, having it entirely booked to his name.

You can't say much about the movie because Seungcheol's good at distracting you. His dirty whispers, lingering touches and sly looks lead to something unspeakable. Movie long forgotten you're basking in afterglow against your husband's bare chest, in his warm embrace.

"Remember when we were taken out of the theatre by the security after getting caught while making out?"

You laugh at the memory, "We did some real crazy things back then. I could never forget how you walked into the class only in underpants after loosing a bet to me."

Seungcheol response comes out as a scowl as he pinches your sides making you squeal.

You watch him for some moments in silence before mustering the courage and ask him, "Are you really willing to forgive me? Because after what I have done to you, I know it would take a lot more to forgive me."

Seungcheol freezes but gains his compusre quickly and lies through his teeth, "I pondered a lot upon it. You know my mom said the exact thing as you about marriages. So maybe it's a good idea to start anew."

"I-I promise I'll make it up to all the hurt and pain you've been in because of me. I'm so ashamed for treating you like that back then, wish I could take it all back.", your voice cracks, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes, "We'll be happy Seungcheol."

He doesn't believe you. But you do.

Then this goes on. He tries to slip into your life, your circle, your family casually so that when he hits later, the blow catastrophes you.

"I'm currently working on a piece.", you reveal to him one night, "And I'm planning to release the composition, it's midway.", a sigh escapes your lips as you snuggle closer in your husband's arms, "You're the first one to know."

Seungcheol mirrors your smile, pressing a feather kiss on your head, "I'm honoured. And I'm so proud of you.", he laughs when he says, "I wonder how Seungkwan's gonna react when he comes to know that he wasn't the first one to know."

"Oh God, he's gonna be a bitch about it.", you exclaim about it.

He surprises you with gifts, visits you in the academy and takes you to dates. All of it just to keep tabs on you, make you slip out crucial information about anything.

"When are you going to take her down?", Jiah ask impatiently, "You're unnecessarily stalling time."

"I do have gotten something crucial on her. But the more I dwell into this act, the more she'll be hurt.", Seungcheol assures, "Just do what you've been told to and don't act so obvious, specially around Wonwoo, I don't know why but he has been lately saying stuffs. Seems he has grown closer to Y/N and her circle."

Though he wasn't interested at all, but for the sake of fooling you again, he attends the competition you & Seungkwan had taken part in.

Though he would never admit, he was intrigued as he watched you perform again, the nostalgia had hit him hard. He still isn't sure if the loudest claps those came from him were just for eyewash or out of genuinity.

Though he didn't want to spend his birthday with you, somehow it ended up being the most memorable one. When you had wished him dot at midnight and gathered his family and beloved people for a private party where you played him a romantic piece which you had composed just for him as a birthday present, in front of everyone, he wonders if love laced aura radiating from you was real. He wonders if the swell in his chest was just not because of you.

Every time he thinks he's slipping, he reminds himself of the heart burns, the trauma and again he's back to his agenda.

There's a fine line between pretense and reality. And that line is starting to blur for Seungcheol. The worst part, he hasn't even realised it yet.

So when he makes time to visit your academy, he thinks he's acting out according to his plan. But he doesn't realise he goes there just to watch you teach.

He doesn't realise that when plans those dates he actually looks forward to spending time with you.

When you were down with fever, he took you to the doctor not to look good to you but out of genuine worry.

He now shares his bedroom with you. All your belongings have shifted from your room to his. He doesn't like it when he finds the other side of the empty in the mornings. He doesn't let you go if he catches you while you try to sneak off, he whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

He knows about your schedules and nowadays he frees his schedule when you ask him to come and watch you perform. He anticipates your performance until you're on the stage, still claps the loudest and rushes to the backstage with a bouquet just to hug and tell how proud he is of you.

He doesn't fuck you and he might yet not be aware but makes love to you.

"Cherry!", he calls out one day when the two of you were goofing around and both of you freeze instantly. It was a name you both called each other when you both dated and were so in love. And now, that's what falls back to your lips. Like the good old days.

"You have changed.", Jiah says with disappointment, "Do you really not want revenge?"

"What rubbish.", Seungcheol laughs, "It's all just acting.", but the assertiveness in his voice fluctuates.

"So when are you gonna do the needful?", she raises her voice and Seungcheol glares at her.

"I'll decide when to do what.", he snarks, "Doesn't concern you, so stop being pushy."

And Jiah is sure that Seungcheol isn't determined anymore, that his feelings are resurfacing and interfering with the plan.

So she decides to take the matter into her hands once again, like she did years ago.

"Tell me you're joking.", Seungcheol laughs as his gaze sweeps at the faces, "Ok fine you guys got me. Good try."

There's an eerie silence clogging the room.

"Guys, I said y'all got me!", Seungcheol says this time a bit anxious, "You won! Now can we stop all this drama?"

You roll your eyes, as if unbothered, "There's no prank going on here. What I said was true."

You step closer to him, "I'll say it again so listen carefully. You were just a bet to me.", you say unapologetically, "Those guys", your index points at Mingyu and Eunsoo, "gave me a bet to make you, 'the enigmatic Choi Seungcheol'", a mocking laugh follows, "who nobody could bag yet", you're now objectifying him, "make fall in you love with me."

Seungcheol just listens. But he refuses to believe.

You are laughing again. Your hands grab his face moving it side to side, "I was so skeptical because you seemed scary. I mean you do have looks, money and power. But who could guess that you'd be so easy."

You circle around him, "All I had to do was create this image of aloof, private kind of girl and bam! you were circling around me like a puppy. I must admit, I was surprised at my own acting. Never made you have a doubt any second."

The first tear rolls down his cheek, when Seungcheol says, "Was none of it real for you, all the time we spent together?"

"Are you not getting it?", you ask annoyed, "No. None of it was real."

Seungcheol rushes to Mingyu and grabs his collar, "Gyu, please tell me it's all a lie. Just say it and I'd believe it in a blink."

Mingyu stays quiet, eyes lowered.

He then grabs Eunsoo, "Soo, I know you're the most rational one among us, so please please I'm begging you to tell. Tell me whatever she's telling is not true."

Eunsoo refuses to meet his gaze, she stays silent as well.

Seungcheol frees her and stands motionless for moments. He processes everything that he has heard since the moment he stepped into the room. He thinks over but he still doesn't want to believe.

Because he loves you to much to let you go. So he decides to be irrational just one time.

Seungcheol wipes the tears and walks upto you. When you look at him, your heart twists within your chest.

"Y/N", he looks at you so tenderly, "But none of it matters.", his hands travel up to caress your face, "Because all of it was true from my side. I love you, Y/N. Love you so much that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It's you or no one.", he says so sincerely, "It was wrong to start off as a bet but I want to forget all this."

He then kneels on his knees, "Y/N, let's start this relationship afresh, on the right foot."

You panic because this was not you had expected. You had expected him to throw tantrum, say mean things, even slap you. But none of that happens.

"I don't love you, Seungcheol --"

"Then let me court you. Let me try my luck. Let's see if I could make you fall for me?", he's radiating so much love and grief that it suffocates all the three of you.

This won't do, you think, your plan is failing.

"I have been sleeping with people behind your back the whole time we dated.", you say unabashedly, "I have climbed beds and you never got to know."

Mingyu gasps, Eunsoo freezes at your words.

"It's okay", Seungcheol assures, "Because we weren't real. But now--"

"What makes you think I wouldn't do the same even after being an actual thing with you?", you scoff, "I might actually cheat on you this time. I would have you, your money, the luxuries. I might also see other people and like now, you'd never know.

Seungcheol feels like you've stabbed his heart and twisted the knife. There's an unfathomable bleeding.

"But you never used me, nor my money, none of the luxuries to get something. If you wanted, you could have, have it all.", he argues, "It might have started as an act but at some point it must have become real. Or why would you make me aware of this stupid bet if you didn't have feelings for me?"

"Stop being a sucker.", you snark at him, "It's not like you won't girls. Why are you acting like a loser when you know I don't, I won't reciprocate your feelings?"

Seungcheol gets up, with shaky hands and bloodshot eyes.

"Because even if you didn't, I have loved you honestly.", comes Seungcheol's response.

"I won the bet and lost interest in you.", you look at him condescendingly, "I felt bad for you, so right now I'm letting you know the truth. So just leave, forget about all this and carry on with your life. You were nothing but another notch on my bedpost. I would admit, I had fun. Thanks for that."

Seungcheol gets up and thinks about how he made a fool of himself. Thinks about how right he was about people taking advantage of him because of the baggage that comes with him. Thinks about how wrong it was of him to let his guard down.

"Well played, y'all.", he claps and chuckles bitterly with eyes pooling with tears, "Well played.", he then throws a glare at you which sends down a shiver down your & your friends' spine.

"Make sure to not cross paths with me again. Or I'll make you regret your existance."

And you made sure that's the last time he saw you.

"I have to be overseas for an important deal.", Seungcheol says laying back on his office chair, "It will be a one week trip and the connectivity is so bad, I'd probably lose touch with everyone while I'll be there."

You go over to his side and stand behind to rub his shoulders making your husband groan in relief, "Tell me about it, happens with Chan as well. When are you leaving?"

Seungcheol takes your hand and pulls you to make you sit on his lap when he says, "Month end. Y/N, I was thinking that...", he pauses to look at you before continuing, "If you could make some time and come with me. We didn't have our honeymoon yet so maybe we could make a good use of this trip."

You smile softly at him, "I'd love to but remember I had told you about working on a composition, it's release is set on by the month end."

"Oh right!", Seungcheol exclaims as he recollects, "God, I'm sorry it skipped my mind.", he instantly sullens, "But I don't think I'd be able to postpone this trip. I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you."

You peck his pouty lips and trace them with your thumb softly, "I can guess how important it would be, so don't worry. Anyways our first anniversary is coming as well, we can plan something later."

"Woah, we're getting through it?", Seungcheol laughs, "I can't believe, we made it."

"All because of you.", your mood shifts when you say, "Just because you had it in you to give me a second chance. That alone was enough."

"I had loved you back then", Seungcheol exhales sharply because of what he's going to say now. He smiles when he realises his feelings, realises that without hesitation he's ready to say it again. Gently holding your face he confesses, "I think I'm falling for you again."

You go absolutely stiff in his hold.

Seungcheol carefully searches your face for any signs of discomfort or uneasiness but he finds none.

"Am I dreaming?", you ask him animatedly, "Can you pinch me? No..", you shake your head, "Would you say it again?"

His eyes turn into crescent moons, as he flashes you the adorable teethy smile.

"I've fallen for you again.", he admits.

"I-I... Seungcheol.. I--", you stutter unable to wrap your mind around your husband's confession.

It was so hard to let you go. It killed to break your heart. Only if I could turn back time, only if I could tell how much I loved you as well.

The thoughts inside your head become louder making you so overwhelmed that now you are sobbing. It's uncontrollable and it makes Seungcheol have to rock you gently side to side while downing your face on his shoulder.

"I-I can't believe this is happening.", you don't face him, saying the words with your face still perched, while wrapping your arms around him tighter, "I love you so much, I know it'd be hard for you to believe but please just trust me on this."

Seungcheol doesn't speak, but he knows that he wants to believe you. Because love is about taking chances, so he might take it as well.

Once you calm down in his embrace, he watches you. He watches the gear in your head turning so he does what he could do to take your mind off of things.

He calls Wonwoo and says, "Don't let anyone into my cabin until you get another call from me. Also, don't connect anyone to the telecom."

Then he's flipping the phone somewhere and he gives you that one look which is enough to melt you into a puddle before his lips, tongue and hands start to work on your whole body.

"Congratulations!", Chan says hugging you, "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks for making time and coming to the event. Also, the inspiration comes from you all", you say pulling away, "Credit goes to you too."

"Bluff.", Seungkwan comes to pitch in, "The theme is love, then clearly inspiration must be someone named 'Choi Seungcheol'."

You roll eyes hitting him on the arm but laugh nonetheless.

"Look she isn't even denying!", Mingyu joins in to throw a banter, "But I must say you're okay compared to Eunsoo, she's hopeless."

Chan quirks brow at the statement and asks, "Am I missing something?"

You hook your arm into his, saying, "Eunsoo had an itty bitty crush on Wonwoo at uni days which gradually got away. But now that he's back and into our circle, looking like a four course meal according to her, she thinks her crush is relapsing."

"You make it sound like it's cancer.", Eunsoo finally quips in, "Anyways doesn't matter, there's no scope, I must move on. Good thing Seungcheol took Wonwoo with him, out of sight, out of mind."

"I miss my husband. He didn't even wanna leave for the trip to be with me.", you sigh, leaning on your brother's shoulder, "I can't even contact him. Three more days, ugh sounds like an eternity."

"Oh god, I might puke at the lovesickness.", Seungkwan fake gags, "Disgusting."

"It's good to see that you're happy.", Chan whispers just to you while others indulge in several topics to tease one another, "It's such a relief. I would like to talk to Seungcheol once he's back. If he really loves you and makes you feel like home then I'm ready to mend things as well."

You just nod and let the moment sink in. Your pupils dilate as you see the smiles on your friends' faces who have been there with you through thick and thin. Your mind lingers back the proud expression on your parents face. The heartiest congratulations that you received from your in-laws. You tilt your head to look at your brother who always has been your anchor, your biggest supporter. All of them have been present at the composition release event and now they are present at your home to extend the celebration. The parents take leave after sometime to let the peers have fun.

Your home, as you say it proudly now, a place you share with your loving husband, who has forgiven you for the scarred past and shares companionship with you.

Everything is falling back to place and you wish it stays the same. Your eyes fall heavy and you drift off.

The sleep must have been good because it's 10 in the morning when you wake up to see yourself tucked in sheets in your bedroom. The hall is empty and you immediately understand that your brother must have taken it upon himself to drive away your lovely but clingy-when-drunk friends from your house.

You try to call Seungcheol but as usual he's unreachable, so is Wonwoo, so is everyone who has gone to the trip. Dejected, you leave him a series of undelivered texts in hope it somehow reaches him and decide to take a bath which involves you to be away from your phone, just relaxing music and another round of sleep in the bathtub with your favourite bath bombs.

Not sure how long you've fallen asleep but you're woken up by loud voices from the other side of the door. Quickly freshening up you get ready as your phone keeps ringing or dinging because of notifications. Ignoring that you get out of your bedroom to find very distressed Chan and Seungkwan waiting for you.

"What happened guys?", you ask in concern.

Chan makes you sit and you see the two exchanging nervous glances which in turn makes you nervous as well.

"Y/N..", Seungkwan starts off, he exhales sharply and says, "Your work is being accused of plagiarism."

The ground beneath you slips. You look at Seungkwan and then at Chan.

Chan sounds pissed when he says, "Apparently a local artist has already released the composition five days ago, meaning four days before your release event."

You are panicking, shaking, tears are streaming down your face, "I-I didn't steal anyone's work. I-I have composed them, they're my work. Trust me guys, please..I--"

"We trust you, Y/N.", Seungkwan runs to you and rubs your arms, "I have been with you through it. I have seen it all."

"I was studying it with Kwan before coming here, everything is same. Every piece, every insertion, every note.", Chan says, "It looks like someone wholly copied your work.

Seungkwan sighs, "I feel so ashamed but all I can think of is somefrom the academy doing so."

"That's possible.", Chan asks, "But from what I know no one knew about this except you both. Even the event was announced just before a day or two to the people of academy."

Seungkwan asserts, "Everything was done remotely. Y/N do you recollect telling anyone else about this at any stage apart from Seungcheol?"

"Seungcheol knew?", Chan quips surprised and you are shaking your head.

"No. Leave him out of this, he wouldn't have done anything.", you warn your brother.

"I'm sorry Y/N, but I can't leave anyone out of this.", Chan says, "Someone is trying to harm you and I would see through the end of it. Be it anyone."

Eunsoo and Mingyu are stumbling upon while crossing the threshold. Seungkwan briefs them about what have been deducted till now and they decide to stick by your side while Chan and Seungkwan rushes out to the field to gather evidence and facts.

"I have already talked to my father.", Mingyu informs you, "He himself will aid with any legal advice. Don't worry everything will be sorted out."

"I had a talk with my mother. She also ensured that we'd broadcast only the solid proofs that pertains to the truth. We have faith in you, it'll get over soon.", Eunsoo ensures you, "Infact we have had our reporters dig in the matter as well."

Soon after your parents arrive followed by your in-laws. Your phone keeps ringing and no one allows you to hold it. Eventually, the device is turned off and kept somewhere, out of your reach.

Among all of the ominous thoughts involving losing your career, unable to pursue your passion anymore, being deemed as a thief, outcasted by the society and all others, the one that prevails is would Seungcheol believe you?

Two days go by and there's not much progress. You strike continuously as the most trending person on the internet, on news papers, in some tabloids boldly called out as a thief, the others focused more on why there's no statement from your own company or the Choi's themselves. The only thing that keeps you at bay is Seungcheol's return tomorrow.

You are flabbergasted at how can the two pieces of work be exact same unless someone copied it. You decide to visit the academy and search for any leads. Just as you are about to drive off your phone buzzes.

I have some information that would benefit you. Meet me at The Ritz at 11.

The text was from Jiah and you're instantly drawn to how Jiah could be the one involved in this.

"Let's skip the formalities.", Jiah smiles as she places some documents and an usb drive in front of you.

There's a laptop kept on the table, the screen displaying an audio ready to be played.

"Aren't you eager to know what's happening and why it's happening to you?", Jiah asks with a cunning smile which irks you.

"Stop wasting my time and reveal if you know something.", you snark back, "And don't think I'd believe a word you say without any proof because I don't trust you a bit."

"Seungcheol--"

"Don't you dare bring my husband into this, Jiah!"

Your heart shrinks because of the look Jiah gives you. No way your husband would be involved into all this, no way he'd go as far as to ruin your career.

"I have done it. I have paid a staff in your academy to steal your work, made it release before your event and hence you're being charged with plagiarism.", Jiah confesses and before you could charge her she drops the bomb, "Your husband, Choi Seungcheol is the mastermind behind it."

"I'll cut your tongue for speaking rubbish--"

"How do you think I knew about all this? Who else apart from Seungcheol knew about this?", Jiah asks. Her gaze falls on the laptop and she gestures you to play it.

"Y/N is working on a composition and is planning to release it sometime later. We should use this opportunity to bring her down."

The audio stops and you recognise the voice as your husband's. The jab hits hard, hard enough to make you loose your footing. Jiah is quick to hold you and make you sit on the chair.

"Have a look at these papers."

Your hands are shaky when you pick up the papers. You freeze on reading the heading. Your hands fall to the sides once you finish reading it whole. Those bunch of papers were about transferring your shares of the academy under the Choi's name.

Jiah doesn't give you time to settle as she plays another recording.

"Are the papers ready? What will happen if I take her lifeline away from her?"

"When are you going to take her down? You're unnecessarily stalling time."

"The more I dwell into this act, the more she'll be hurt. Just do what you've been told to and don't act so obvious, specially around Wonwoo, I don't know why but he has been lately saying stuffs. Seems he has grown closer to Y/N and her circle."

You sit there motionless. The person you considered your world was the one planning to stab you.

"You can get these recordings examined.", Jiah tells you, "To be sure that I haven't manipulated or tampered with the recordings."

She takes a sit beside you and observes you carefully. The triumphant smile that graces her lips on seeing you getting trampled, makes her believe that now's the time when she could spew any lies and you'd believe it. She knows she has won over.

"The plan was to take advantage of your helplessness and make you transfer the shares in the disguise of helping you clearing your name.", Jiah leans in closer to your face, "Why do you think Seungcheol is out of country out of all the time? He's trying to build up the urgency so that as soon as he walks in you'd be at his feet asking for help."

Jiah has accepted that she would never have Seungcheol to herself, so not at fear of loosing anything she's going all out as for to separate you two.

"The Choi's are so powerful that no matter how much you try, there's no way you could prove your innocence.", Jiah says as her sinisteric gaze falls on you again, "You can take all these proofs, additionally, I'll even provide the details pertaining to the person who stole your work and make them confess."

"W-Why are you helping me?"

"Either way it breaks you two apart and that's the motive. Knowing the truth would hurt you the most."

Her heels clank loudly as she walks out, leaving you behind, defeated and devastated.

How foolish of you to believe that Seungcheol would forgive you easily? How naive of you that you fell for his act of a doting husband.

You wonder if this is how he had felt after being betrayed by you. You run your hands over your chest to soothe the ache. You scream, throw down anything you could grab, stomp over the place but nothing helps you in calming down.

Three hours have passed and you're still in that damned conference room. Scathed, scrotched and scattered.

You inhale, exhale and repeat. Then you're calling your brother.

"Chan, arrange for a press conference tomorrow evening. Also stop looking further into the case. I have evidence to prove that I'm innocent.", you say into the phone, "Gather everyone at the academy, none of the Choi's though. Ask Eunsoo if they would broadcast it on their network. Tell Mingyu to have Mr. Kim free some time for me this week if possible. Make the checks now, we can't delay it further."

Seungcheol's boarding the plane back home when he comes to know of the situation. He feels sick to stomach when all that's happening feels too known to him. Though he might have wanted this to happen once but now he can't even fantom the thought of doing something so viscious to you.

He calls you but you don't pick up. He calls others, makes Wonwoo call them too but it's fruitless.

He's anxious throughout the way, worried sick, feels guilty for not being by your side when you're going through so much. He hopes you're not beating your much, wants to hold, wants to assure you that everything will be fine, that you have him.

Wonwoo is running through all the red lights equally anxious. He wants to go inside and check upon you but he steps aside as he watches Seungcheol rushing into the house, hoping you'll be okay.

Seungcheol rustles through the corridor and slam opens the door, hurriedly making a sprint inside the house.

It's afternoon but the house, entire hallway is dimly lit. Suddenly the lights go on and he spots you.

Something about you is different, it's almost eerie. The black dress you're wearing, the cold gaze your throwing is unsettling.

"Baby--", you hold out your hand when Seungcheol starts to walk towards you.

Seungcheol halts, he feels the grimness in your aura.

"Welcome back, Seungcheol. I have been waiting for you.", you say apathetically, "Take a seat, I have some things to discuss with you, before I leave for the press conference."

That's when Seungcheol notices your finger void of the wedding ring.

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