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cupidsblonde · 6 hours ago

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so do i look like him?

after katsuki’s death, the only thing your parents can see in you is him

when you used to imagine giving a speech about your younger brother, you have imagined it everywhere but here.

maybe a wedding

at an award show

anywhere but here.

“i remember when katsuki first got his quirk, we all knew he was destined for greatness… but he was ripped away from us to soon.” you say lip quivering.

“he will never be able to live out his dream. or live out the life that had so many great things ahead of him. ripped from the arms of his loved ones, from his greatness, from his determination.” voice breaking, tears falling down your face.

“tomura shigaraki, i promise that if i ever find you, you will be ripped from the hearts of the people motivated by you, just as you did my brother” you say staring straight into the broadcasting camera, which was showing your brothers funeral all across the world.

since he was a nation wide hero. but he never got to be the hero he wanted to be, rich, famous, doing what he loved.

for he was famous. this just wasn’t how anyone imaged it.

was this all he was going to be to the world? a dead kid, who had a dream of being a hero and died on his way there in a war he had no place fighting in?

is that kid the only thing your parents will ever be able to see in you?

being the eldest was great, until katsuki was gone.

incident one

you where all sitting around the dinning table. katsuki’s spot next to your empty. nothing but his lingering smell of caramel, which was fading, and quickly. it was quite. you just wanted to eat, and go to sleep.

you pick up your fork and go to put the food into your mouth, clamping your mouth around the fork and unbeknownst to you, the scratching food.

you groan, grimace and catch your parents eyes. they’re both staring at you. like you did something wrong. you can see the tears welling in their eyes. your mom slams her fork down and gets up from the table

“excuse me” she says in a hushed tone. you didn’t know what happened. you looked to your dad for an answer.

“you just looked a lot like him right then” you dad almost whispers to you.

incident two

you missed katsuki a lot.

his grunts

his anger

his determination

his want

his excellency.

you and everyone in your house avoided his room like the plague. scared that if it was changed even a little bit, something would happen.

but you just couldn’t take not even smelling his scent around the house anymore. you went into his room one day.

16 years of coming into his room, annoying him, crying to him, watching movies with him. had come to end. you sat on the floor, sat in his bed, sat at his desk and you made your way to his closet. that’s where it smelt the most of him. aside from his bed, but even that was fading.

all you wanted to do was cry. there was no way he was coming back, you know that. right?

you continue to go into his spaces. just hoping your going to find your younger brother there. watch him study maybe, even hope you would be able to hear him yell at you to “get the f out of my room”.

but you would never get to have that’s again.

this time it was your dad.

you had said something that you picked up from katsuki and your dad froze where he stood.

you could tell he had been cracking his shell he made when katsuki died. push everything down to hold the family together. so he needed to get away. he stopped what he was doing and went to he and your mothers room.

“you just looked a lot like him, with that look on your face, saying that.” your mother quivered out to you. sobbing and choking at the end of her sentence.

incident three

you had been falling back into a place that katsuki an you both worked so hard to get you out of mentally.

you where drinking again

back on drugs

it started slow. just how it always did.

you had been clean for nearly 2 years. you obviously didn’t need your younger brother to keep you a normal ass person, who wasn’t drinking all the time, sleeping all the time, back on drugs.

bakugo katsuki, your younger brother, your best friend. was one of the only things that kept you on the earth.

but now, it was your parents. not because you where happy all the time with them as you where with katsuki.

but having to bury both of their children? you couldn’t do that to them.

so you began getting sober again. the drugs stopped and the drinking stopped, you had been reminded that katsuki helped you out of that dark, dark place and if he saw you just fall right back into it as soon as he’s gone, he would be disappointed.

it was hard, because it wand ike he was gone on a trip. he was gone, for good.

this time, it was both of them. both of your parents.

you grabbed any random hoodie one day, not even realizing it was your brothers. you came down the stairs and your parents where right in the view of the stairs, and stopped when you came down.

you then realized.

you wouldnt ever be your own person now. atleast not to your parents.

you understood, their child was gone. and you reminded them of him. and that’s … hard.

not only for them but also for yourself.

this is the first time you started to catch on

“do i look like him?”

both of your parents nodded quickly, tears filling their eyes and they both walked away very quickly.

of course you went to go change.

but that’s when you realized,

his scent wasn’t on the hoodie anymore

the more that you thought about it. his scent wasn’t anywhere around the house anymore, aside for his room, which was fading.

incident four

you where going through an old photo album, you all missed katsuki in with all of your hearts.

there where a bunch of pictures of katsuki but it started getting easier to look at them. easier to, accept.

but there was this one problem, this one picture. that had your mother sobbing, your dad with tears streaming down your face and you, your face plastered with an a thousand yard stare. your mouth fell open, you wanted to say something.

anything, but you couldn’t. it felt like your vocal cords had been ripped out, your throat was burning. your eyes where being filled with tears. you closed the picture book slowly.

you don’t remember much after that.

all you feel right now is the pain in the balls of your feet from the heels your wearing, continusally having to pull your to short and to tight dress down and the feeling of your back side grinding up against a man that you meet at the bar merely a half hour ago.

“wanna get out of here ma?” the man who you didn’t even know who’s name.

next morning

you woke up next to this man, who you still didn’t know the name of.

these type of nights continued on for weeks.

you didn’t see your parents much, you where staying with your friends more and more and they are worried about you. they are always supportive, they understand what your going through. but they are worried.

and they had every reason to. especially tonight.

when you didn’t come home, after you sobbed in mina’s arms are the first time. saying you wished it was you who was gone and not your brother. she was first your brothers friend, but she ended up being yours as well.

you missed him, so so much. and you didn’t know how to handle it.

you had taken care of him for his whole life. being the eldest was hard. it was always hard. it was so much harder when the one thing keeping you going was now gone.

you could see it in your parents eyes. the only thing in their eyes was sadness. so the only you could ask yourself now was

“do i look like him?”

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peachdues · 8 months ago

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I’m horny so I’m making it everyone’s problem BUT

sincerely thinking about Werewolf!Sanemi’s first time experiencing Netherwood!Reader’s ovulation week and losing his damn mind

#I know I had an anon about this in the context of the predator prey AU but #rn I’m talking the canon (?) Netherwood fic #bc she does have a period before Douma that gets referenced in part iv lmao #but can you imagine him scenting her and being like???#why do I need you so bad right now??

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foxy-eva · 1 month ago

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Drunk on You

Summary: Spencer is completely and utterly infatuated with you

Request: Pussy drunk Spencer where it’s the first time they sleep together and he’s completely obsessed with being inside her and eating her out (initially requested to @imagining-in-the-margins)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) heavy kissing, handjob, fingering, oral (fem receiving), protected penetrative sex, slight overstimulation

Word Count: 2.2k

Masterlist

Maybe it was a bit cliché to invite Spencer into your apartment for coffee after your date. The ulterior motive was obvious but there was no elegant way of telling him what you really wanted. He didn’t seem to mind when he accepted your offer with a grin on his face.

The tension between the two of you was palpable once you stepped through your door. The warm amber of Spencer’s irises shone even brighter under the lighting of your living room. It was mesmerizing to look at him, so much so that you quickly forgot about the coffee.

Spencer couldn’t care less. It was obvious that he knew a hot beverage wasn’t exactly what you craved right then. The way he licked his lips as he looked at you gave away that he was longing for something else, too.

Stepping closer, you left barely any space between the two of you. The warmth he radiated penetrated your skin and spread through your body. You breathed in his scent, a pleasant mix of his cologne and laundry detergent.

“So,” you teased as you leaned closer. “Are you gonna kiss me now or what?”

“Gladly,” he chuckled.

To your surprise, he took his time with you. His fingers found your jaw, gently brushing along your skin before slightly tilting your head. His other hand made contact with your waist to pull you even closer. Then, unhurriedly and with a precise motion, he finally leaned in to close the distance.

Once your mouths made contact there was no more holding back, though. His lips were soft yet demanding and he didn’t waste any time to deepen the kiss. Tasting you broke any resistance Spencer had and he couldn’t keep up his demeanor anymore.

His fingertips dug into your waist before you felt them trembling against your body. His tongue brushed over yours as if you had finally granted him the first taste of water after a life-long drought. When your hands found the nape of his neck to playfully tug at his curls, he unabashedly moaned against your lips.

Spencer was desperate to make you his and he had no intention of hiding that from you. His lips only left yours to gasp for air before kissing you some more. When you wanted to lean back to look at him, he chased your mouth and immediately closed the distance again.

His enthusiasm made you smile into the kiss and he noticed. That was when he finally slowed down, leaving a few more feather-light pecks on your mouth before leaning back.

“Sorry,” he awkwardly laughed. “I’ve been waiting so long to do this.”

“Don't apologize,” you breathed. “I like how eager you are.”

To prove your words, you took his hand in yours to lead him into your bedroom. Spencer wasn’t the only one who had been waiting too long for this to finally happen. You had no intention of acting shy with him when it was clear how much the both of you yearned for each other’s nearness.

Right beside your bed you came to a halt and turned to him. Patiently he watched as you undid the buttons of his dress shirt and brushed the fabric over his shoulders. Once the shirt dropped to the floor, your hands wandered along the waistband of his pants.

Your eyes followed the movements of your fingers and you couldn’t ignore the outline of his hardness straining against his trousers. You looked at the man in front of you and found him staring at you with the utmost adoration in his eyes.

“Can I touch you?” You asked and he nodded.

Your palm carefully made contact with his clothed cock and a sigh immediately escaped Spencer’s throat. He leaned into your touch and twitched against the fabric of his confines. You decided to free him as you undid his pants and slowly pulled them down together with his underwear.

As you took your time to admire the beauty of your lover, you completely forgot your surroundings. Only Spencer’s hand brushing along your arm brought you back to reality. You locked eyes with him again and felt your cheeks heating up.

“You’re so handsome,” you mumbled.

His hand found the fabric of your shirt and tugged on it as he cooed, “I want to see you, too.”

Together you got rid of the remaining pieces of clothing until both of you were completely bare. You lay down on the mattress to continue kissing without any barriers between your bodies.

Spencer hovered over you when he began kissing down your neck. He left sweet pecks on your skin before biting down on your pulse point, drawing a whine from your lips. To soothe the angry skin, he carefully licked along it before moving further down your body.

“You smell so good,” he groaned as he kissed your breasts. “I can’t get enough of you.”

He took one of your hardened peaks into his mouth while his hand found the other, teasing it with his fingers until you couldn’t hold back your moans. When he heard your hymn of praise, he hummed into your skin.

Hungry lips found one another once more. “You are marvelous,” Spencer mumbled into the kiss.

While he was distracted with his mouth on yours, a curious hand made its way down his body to wrap around his erection. It made him whimper against your lips. Your fingers brushed over velvety skin until they found the weeping tip to spread his arousal over it.

“Fuck!” he hissed as he looked down his body to watch your hand caressing him.

“Do you like that?” you teased as you kept stroking him a little harder.

His hand found your wrist to stop your movements. “Yeah, a little too much,” he confessed and his words made you smile.

You let go of him and watched as his fingertips danced along your chest and down your stomach until they reached their destination between your legs. Tentatively, he let one finger glide along your slit before spreading your folds apart. When he found you already dripping with desire, he groaned, “So wet for me.”

He collected your dew on his fingertips and dragged it along your folds before circling your most sensitive spot. The sounds of your pleasure only spurred him further on, caressing you some more before he breached your entrance with two digits, finding little resistance from your body.

Spencer kissed along your neck as he curled his fingers inside you, pressing against a spot that made you light-headed and let your walls flutter around him. He seemed to relish feeling your body like this, taking his time to explore your core before settling on a steady pace. It didn’t take long for you to dance along the edge of euphoria.

His lips brushed along your ear as he whispered, “I can’t wait to fuck you.”

That was all it took for your undoing. Spencer groaned as he felt you pulsing around his fingers, your entire body writhing as you found relief. You were still panting when he withdrew his fingers, making you whine at the loss of contact.

With a playful smirk spread over his face, he brought his hand to his mouth to lick your release from his fingers, savoring the taste of your cunt on his tongue.

“You taste so good,” he breathed before moving down your body. “I need more.”

Before he could settle down between your thighs, you grabbed his shoulders. The feeling of being empty was overwhelming and you yearned to be filled out by him. Even though the prospect of having his mouth on you was exciting, it was not what you needed then.

“I need you inside me now,” you whimpered. “Please, Spencer.”

He kneeled between your legs when he chuckled, “How could I say no to that?”

Hurriedly and with little grace you reached over to your nightstand to get a condom from the drawer. Spencer didn’t waste any more time when he took the wrapper from your hands to put the condom on. As he leaned over you, you watched him closing his eyes for a moment before he aligned his cock at your entrance.

Then, after locking eyes with you, he began pushing his hips against yours. He hissed a curse at the sensation of slowly stretching you open one inch at the time. When he dared to look down between your bodies, he got so overwhelmed at the sight of his cock entering you that he almost came on the spot.

Quickly, he averted his sight to get his composure back. Your walls fluttered around him and you felt him twitch in response. Once he had filled you up to the hilt, he took a moment to feel your heartbeat deep inside you.

“Spencer,” you whined as you began rocking your hips against his. “Please!”

He didn’t mean to tease you or test your patience. He just wanted to fully savor this moment. Feeling you tightly wrapped around him made his head spin. He felt inebriated when he began moving and started to think you had cast some kind of spell on him.

“You feel so good,” he breathed when he began moving. “So tight for me.”

Pure magic was the only explanation for what you made him feel. Spencer struggled to wrap his head around the fact that this was reality. Nothing else mattered other than being right there with you, making you his as he fucked you against the mattress.

“Harder!” you cried and Spencer obliged.

It proved to be a mistake, though. As he watched you quiver underneath him, the bedframe shaking with his forceful thrusts, he struggled to delay his downfall. Feeling you getting even tighter around him made it impossible to not fully indulge in this sensation.

With his whole body trembling, he tried but failed to slow himself down. Desperation was written over his face as he attempted to prolong the feeling of being inside you. Of course you noticed it, too. Seeing him fall apart on top of you as pleasure overcame him was exhilarating and you had no intention of slowing him down.

“Come for me,” you murmured and Spencer’s eyes widened at your words.

Then, with a particularly hard thrust, he did. Trembling and groaning, the built-up tension was released as his climax washed over him.

Before you had a chance to wrap your arms around him to welcome him inside your embrace, he pulled out of you and quickly moved down your body. With your head still spinning, it took you several seconds to realize what he was doing.

Only when you felt his tongue glide through your folds did you comprehend that he had found his new home between your legs.

“Oh fuck, Spencer!” You hissed at the feeling of his mouth caressing your sensitive center.

Like a man starved he collected your honeyed wetness on his tongue, moaning into your skin as he tasted your heady aroma. The vibrations he created sent shockwaves through your body, prompting you to buck your hips against his face.

Seemingly unfazed by your reaction, he wrapped his arms around your legs to keep you in place as he continued pleasuring you with his tongue and mouth.

“So good,” he whispered against your heat.

Despite his effort to hold you securely against his mouth, you were sure you might start floating at any moment. Two of his fingers found their way into you, adding more pressure and bringing you closer to your undoing.

It only took a few more seconds until ecstasy overcame you. Your thighs trembled as you rode out your high, rocking gently against Spencer’s face. He didn't let go of you, though. Almost in a trance-like state he kept caressing you, licking up your release as you writhed underneath him.

Your chest was heaving when you looked at him, eyes closed and half of his face buried between your legs. Spencer didn't even consider stopping, not when you tasted so heavenly, even more so after you came. Drunk on your taste and scent, he would have been more than happy to spend the rest of his night right there.

It became too overwhelming for you, though. The constant stimulation was too much to bear and almost became uncomfortable, so your hands found his curls to pull on them. “Enough,” you murmured.

In an instant, he removed his mouth from your core to litter your inner thighs with little kisses. Then he looked up at you, a wicked grin painted on his glistening face. He wiped himself clean with the back of his hand before plopping down beside you.

“Sorry, uh…” he muttered. “I got a little carried away.”

You placed a kiss on his lips, noticing your own scent still lingered on them.

“I’m not complaining,” you purred. “I just need a little break. We can continue later.”

The glimmer in his eyes at your words must have been akin to someone witnessing a miracle. Content with the prospect of doing all of this again, he wrapped you into his arms.

Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.

Taglist: @adoredfromafar @grumpyy-bearr @frickin-bats @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @xserenax-13 @alexxavicry @samuel-de-champagne-problems @evvy96 @reidsbookclub @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebs-oxygen @nomajdetective @kobaltdragon @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @castiels-majestic-wings

#spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff

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tame-the-lion-writes · 2 months ago

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feral omega reader x task force 141

I've read a lot of Task Force 141 being assigned a group omega to force them to chill tf out as an all-alpha pack, BUT!-- imagine instead of taking one from a roster, Price just one day comes back from a mission with an omega he picked up from God knows where, cradling her like she's an injured cat.

The man's got tousled hair and a few scratches on his cheek from trying to wrench poor you out of a dangerous situation. Stuck under a fallen building or in an enemy prison cell, maybe--but that doesn't matter. You're coming home with him cause you've got nowhere else to go. And now you're essentially the feral wet cat adopted by these massive, powerful alphas. Cause omegas are supposed to be sweet and soft and tiny, and they just wanna protect you, but you're only tiny. And you've got a whole lot of teeth. It's both equally endearing and concerning.

Of course, the boys can handle you, though. And by handle, I mean, "Here, kitty, kitty. Please don't bite me this time. See, we're friends now!" At least that was how Soap put it, whereas Price and Ghost just sat in the same space with you until you learned that they were chill. Gaz made peace offerings with food. Soap was the last to enter your good graces.

Meanwhile Kate just tolerates you, since she doesn't know what the hell Price was thinking.

"You could've had anyone from the list, you know. A proper omega who knows how to cook and clean."

"Ah, but where's the fun in that? 'sides, she needed a home like the rest of us."

Bonus Thoughts:

Once you've calmed, you're still feisty--just feisty with everyone else but 141. Kate is somewhat of an extension. Not quite pack but trusted by your packmates. You eventually settle for glaring at her from across the room.

Heats? Yes. Sexual heats? Not quite. I imagine feral reader only ever being cuddly during her heats, at least at the start. But do with that what you will--it's one of the few times she initiates touch first. That, and when she's the possessive one--not the boys.

She's also definitely a bit of a kleptomaniac. She's already got one of Ghost's extra masks, Price's bandana, etc. from when they all gave her random stuff to get her used to their scents, but once she's gotten over fighting back, she wants more, more, more. Shirts and jackets start going missing. Even pillowcases. They catch on, of course, but nobody finds anything until Price opens his closet one day, and BAM--one messy hoard of a nest.

"You could've just asked."

Mildly disgruntled hissing.

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teddybeartoji · 3 months ago

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18+ mdni; fem!reader

knight!suguru is more than glad to drop to his knees for his beloved princess.

his rough hands bunch up the skirt of your dress with haste, his pruple eyes blown wide with lust as you try to grab onto his shoulders for support. your knees feel weak, your body shaking with a mixture of excitement and pure adrenaline – this is improper, you shouldn't be doing this.

but oh, how good does it feel.

how good the knight's fingers feel as they dance on your skin, the tips of them ghosting over the soft material of your soaking undergarments. with his face hidden under your skirt, you can only imagine the hungry look he's wearing as they prepare to eat their heart out after a long, tiring day.

you rest against a bookshelf in the dark library, letting the wooden planks press into your upper back, into your soft skin. candlelight flickers across your flustered face, it being the only audience you could ever possibly allow.

what you're doing is risky, it's dangerous – but neither of you can fight the need any longer.

a quiet gasp echoes through the empty library when suguru presses a gentle kiss your core, his fingers tugging on your underwear. he can feel your legs tremble, he can feel the goosebumps on your skin; just like you imagine his expression, suguru does the same – how dark and low your eyes would be, how swollen your pretty lips. he'll get to see it all later, the masterpiece that is your blissed out face after he're done devouring you.

as his tongue lays flat against your needy cunt, the room gets flooded with hushed mewls; taking a hand from suguru's shoulder, you slot it in front of your mouth but the palm does very little to contain the sounds of pleasure that suffocate you. alongside with those, the noises that emit from under your skirt - your body feels as if its on fire.

suguru's hands knead your thighs – the very same hands that have killed, that have taken lives, are now caressing your skin with the utmost care and tenderness the knight could ever possibly muster up. this is his job afterall – to take care and to proctect, in every way imaginable; whether it's him on his knees as they get a taste of the woman they have swore to protect, or it's him dying at the end of a blade for the woman they love – it's the suguru's desire to serve.

he sucks on your clit, he tongues at your folds, drowning in your scent as he pushes you closer to your high with his skilled mouth. your nails dig into his shoulder, with most of your weight now leant against him as your body threatens to go limp, your brain turning into a mush. cries of suguru's name fall from your lips like a waterfall, with the letters coated with sickly sweet honey that reel him deeper and deeper into her core.

the obscene sounds grow louder by the second with suguru now lapping at your cunt like a starved dog, his good manners long forgotten in his clouded mind. there's a whine on the tip of your tongue, a shy and embarrassed one, but suguru doesn't falter even a bit – instead, he moves to raise your thigh up onto his shoulder, the new angle making your eyes roll back into your head with a loud gasp.

with the other hand, suguru guides you to grind against his face, his nose catching your clit with every roll of your hips and all it takes for you to finally let go, is to hear your beloved knight moan into your sopping cunt.

the back of your head meets the wall behind you with a soft thud and your eyes screw themselves shut as your whole body tenses up; you try to close your legs by pressing your thigh into the suguru's face but it's of no use because he simply digs his fingers deeper into your plush flesh and forces them apart again, so he can keep burying his tongue inside you. suguru can't let any of it go to waste – not the moment, not the saccharine slick that fills his mouth.

you clutch onto your knight as he let you ride out the high, your mumbles of 'thank you's' not going unheard in his keen ears.

before he pull away, suguru places one last kiss to your clit, gentlly as ever; his calloused hands glide over your calves and thighs when he places your leg down onto the wooden floor. with his finger hooked under the material of your underwear, he tugs them down instead of up and taps on your foot for you to raise it.

finally poking his head out from under the skirt, both of you need a moment to collect yourselves; completely disheveled, sweaty and fucked out, panting and heaving – your eyes are still heavy with a flicker of something tender inside them.

you watch the knight pocket the ruined undergarments with a kind of sly grin.

for later.

suguru stays there down on his knees, staring up at you like you're the one that hung the stars in the sky. in his head, you did.

when you try to shove his face to escape the wave of embarrassment that's creeping up your throat but when your fingers meet the slick that's covering the entirety of suguru's lower half of his face, you can't help but cringe at yourself.

and suguru falls for you more. deeper, harder.

"can— can i kiss you?"

your words are but a mere whisper, afraid to see the light, but suguru welcomes them with open arms nonetheless. the corners of his lips tug upward, his hands itching to hold her.

"of course, sweetheart."

you hold each other's gaze as he stands, the rhythm of your chests rising and falling matching in pace.

delicate fingers play with the material of suguru's shirt, a certain nervousness flowing through you despite the fact that you've done this many times before. but you always get like this – a bit shy, a bit timid, wishing to nuzzle your face into the his chest to hide from his fond eyes, the attention suddenly too much. it's the effect he has on you. but you still wants the kiss, you still want the love.

so you push through.

suguru's hand raises to his mouth, his eyebrow quirks up when he sees your eyes grow wider. "don't you want me to wipe it off?"

burns, it burns.

your skin burns.

"no..."

and it burns even stronger, even brighter, at the sight of his wolfish grin, shis sharp canines glinting at you inthe soft candlelight.

"no?"

a tease.

a shake of your head.

a searing kiss. a touch of love.

#MEOWINGGGGGGGGGGGG #there might be typos in this actually i was kind of sleepy while writing it so forgive me..#wtf mickey can write #sugu #geto x reader #geto smut #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #geto suguru drabble #geto #jjk geto #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #mihime #hehe

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tottentz · 5 months ago

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SO GIVE ME HOPE ── honkai star rail, sfw ౨ৎ⠀⠀or the things they do when they miss you ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ gender neutral reader⠀/⠀ft. aventurine, dr. ratio, gepard, boothill, blade, sunday, dan heng, jing yuan, argenti. ♡ˎˊ˗

— AVENTURINE ꩜.ᐟ ˗ˏˋ who uses your shirts as a pillowcase. when aventurine quivers into the night as the chill of an eerie draft embraces his lone figure with a fleeting caress that forcibly erects goosebumps along his nape, he takes one of your shirts and slips it over his pillow, letting the fabric cradle his head as he drifts back into sleep. your scent clinging to the material weave a tender memory where you are rolling onto his side to brush your lips across his jaw, onto the hill of his cheek, and behind the lobe of his ear; and it is enough to carry him for the rest of the day. he repeats this routine every night, especially after a nightmare. in the stillness, the shirt becomes more than just fabric; it becomes a gentle reminder that you will be there when he returns home to you. it is the few acts of comfort he allows himself. as he succumbs to sleep, the shirt's embrace lulls him into dreams where he can hold you once more.

— DR. RATIO ꩜ .ᐟ ˗ˏˋ who uses your own conditioner. dr. ratio, usually consumed by calculations and analyses, finds solace in the simple act of feeling your essence adornimg his hair. he doesn't admit it, but each time he lathers it into his hair, he imagines your hands gently massaging his scalp, your laughter echoing softly in his mind. for a fleeting moment, the mundane act of washing his hair becomes a ritual of longing, because moments like those are when he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, letting the scent transport him to a place where you're nearby. each strand of hair becomes a canvas for his memories, painted with the softness of your touch and the warmth of your smile. this fragrance, delicate and only yours, lingers on his skin, a ghostly whisper of your presence that stays with him long after he steps out of the shower. it's a small comfort, a way to hold onto when you're not there.

— GEPARD ꩜ .ᐟ ˗ˏˋ who listens to the music you like. or to whatever recommendation you send. either songs that remind you of him, songs you thought he'd like, or simply the ones you are obsessed with at the moment. he finds solace in the songs that once was a mere background, the familiar tunes evoke scenes of moments spent together, your laughter mingling with the melodies, your voice singing along with his broken harmony. in the quiet of the room, or amidst the bustle of his duties, he finds a private sanctuary within these songs, and when the silvermane guards question him, heat swells beneath the fold of his collar, and he can't help but tug at the silken cloth, ears just as ruby red as his warmed cheeks. if only for a fleeting moment, with each track, he feels a little closer to you; they are a refuge, after all, a place where his longing transforms into a tender reverie.

— BOOTHILL ꩜ .ᐟ ˗ˏˋ who sends you voicemails everyday. no matter if he has no signal, you have grown fond of getting up every morning to boothill's fifty belated voice notes, each message a blend of longing and unspoken emotions. it doesn't have to be about something important, sometimes, he tells you about his day: that lost little girl he helped find her parents? you let him know you are proud of him; a voice message while he is being chased to death? maybe you spent the whole day crying in a corner, but his tone never fail to soften as he speaks. there's a raw sincerity in his voice, an unguarded truth that slips through the cracks of his usual bravado. he knows you might not listen to them all at once, but that doesn't stop him from sending them, each one a small piece of his heart offered up in the hope it reaches you.

— BLADE ꩜ .ᐟ ˗ˏˋ who sees photos of you. or most likely, the selfies you took with his phone. he will never admit that once in a while he finds himself scrolling through his phone in the stillness of the night, pausing at one where your smile is particularly bright, the curve of your lips and the laughter he can almost hear. your eyes hold a sparkle that seems to pierce through the screen, reaching out to touch the shadows in his heart. he's no good with softness, he knows this better than anyone. all he's ever been is burning up, like a desert caught in it's worst heatwave, and he hopes you won't hold it against him. he hopes you won't clam up again because each photo is a fragment of light in the darkness that often surrounds him, a reminder of moments that felt almost ordinary yet are now imbued with a quiet, aching beauty. he closes his eyes and lets the memories of you guide him through the night.

— SUNDAY꩜ .ᐟ ˗ˏˋ who keeps personal mementos. in the quiet corners of his room, lie these treasures—small tokens that may not look like much, but mean a lot to him. he still keeps a delicate bracelet you once wore, its gentle clink a soothing echo in the stillness. a photograph of you, slightly worn from frequent handling, laughing, and he still feels the flutter you caused in his stomach. it was the heat in his cheeks, the shock in his throat when you smiled so honestly at him: the consuming sensation was all of that goodness and more, magnified and exponentially deeper and marvelously burning. it was hot, fiery as it ripped through him, completely unignorable. it was you. he also keeps a pressed flower, its vibrant colors faded but its significance still as fresh as the day you gave it to him. every now and then, he runs his fingers over these items, each touch a silent conversation.

— DAN HENG꩜ .ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho reads your favorite books. nestled in a quiet corner, he opens the pages you once turned, feeling the faint echoes of your presence with each line, imagining your voice narrating the passages, your expressions as you described your favorite scenes. he doesn't have to understand why you like it, or if he doesn't make any sense of it, he doesn't have to understand the book to understand you, because dan heng tells all of it fondly like it was a memory worth treasuring, but he is downright adoring when you are suddenly in the conversation. and even if the way he says your name isn't obvious enough, the way he softly speaks with eyes half-lidded is enough indication for march to let him know about dan heng feelings. in this quiet communion with your beloved stories, dan heng finds a tender peace, a way to keep your presence alive in his heart until you meet again.

— JING YUAN꩜ .ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho visits your favorite places. the moment he realized that he was doing it, that all of that sensation was you feeling, something began to broil in the apex of his chest, rolling and all-consuming: the gardens of xianzhou, with their delicate blossoms, become his refuge, as he stands beneath the cherry trees, their petals drifting like soft whispers of your laughter; at the tea house, he orders your favorite brew, the aroma filling the air with a bittersweet nostalgia. the feeling was familiar, one that he had organically all the time when thinking of you, being with you at this places. it was the one that he shoved down over and over again around you, yet craved more than anything. for jing yuan, these visits are a way to keep you close, a fleeting comfort that eases the ache of your absence.

— ARGENTI꩜ .ᐟ ˗ˏˋwho writes letters for you. at some point in his life, probably around the fifth time you smiled at him as if argenti had hung the stars in the sky and unlocked every secret of the universe, argenti being desperately, desperately enamored of you had become an incontestable fact, just another undeniable statement. and so, he writes of the stars that remind him of your eyes, the moonlight that mirrors your gentle touch. every stroke of the pen captures a moment, a memory, a piece of his soul. and he hopes you believe it because that's the only truth that feels less like an admission and more like a fact- because you've never left his mind since the second he saw you. his words are a tapestry of emotions, woven with threads of longing and affection, many of the letters he writes are never sent but, as he places the letters in a box, he feels a sense of peace, knowing that in his heart, you are never truly far away.

#honkai star rail x reader #aventurine x reader #dr ratio x reader #boothill x reader #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #argenti x reader #gepard x reader #honkai star rail #sunday x reader #dan heng x reader

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misserabella · 9 days ago

Text

@ entersandman 2

☆☆☆☆☆ (a film for two)

summary; after lots of teasing, you finally tell spencer who you are and help him out with his ‘little’ problem.

cw; +18 minors dni, pure porn, teasing, praising, praise kink, sexting, spencer being a needy mess, mention of streams, sex toys, a lot of orgasms, media au!, semi-public sex, oral sex (f and m receiving), cum swallowing, spitting in spencer’s mouth, pillow humping (spencer), mommy kink, sub! spencer and dom! reader, sex calls, dirty nastyyyy talking, breeding kink, fingering (r receiving), so many pet names for spencer ‘cause he deserves them, face riding/use (spencer receiving), nipple play, nipple sucking, spencer cursing, reading being a smug little shit, hickeys, this is so explicit omg, chocking (spencer receiving), spencer talking dirty?!?

an orgasm is a very human thing. and spencer has had many, many orgasms before. he lived basically off of having them. but none of them have been as good as the one he had while seeing the pictures and videos you’d sent him.

and he’s tried…

tried so hard…

a whole week. he’s been going live every night for a week. his arms is sore at this point, he swears it’ll hurt if he got hard again. and he had made so much money… it was stupid, but maybe it was because he had tried everything that week. everything to get an orgasm as good as the one you’d given him. he had used all his toys too; his fleshlight —into which he pumped his dick with abandon using his eidetic memory to remember the sound you made on your videos—, his vibrator —which he’s run up and down his cock and around the leaking tip—, his other vibrator that stimulated his prostate —the overstimulation made him a mess, but it wasn’t as good as your guidance and words—, her blowing masturbator — to imagine what your mouth would feel like—…

but of course… it didn’t work. and you hadn’t joined not even one of those lives. he looked like a kicked puppy on all of them out of camera, needing you to cum easier and well… better, harder.

@ entersandman

@ entersandman; want your mouth on me. i can say please.

@ entersandman

@ entersandman; where are you? i miss you…

it wasn’t fair. you couldn’t just... show him how good “sex” could feel and then leave him like that. he grew paranoid, watching everyone —female of course— in his classes in hopes of a sign, a slip, and needy, that too.

soooooooo needy.

@ entersandman

mommy please

please need you

you smirked at the new messages on your phone.

@ puredoll

can’t baby, you know i’m studying, not everyone is smart as you, my clever boy

@ entersandman

i’ll help you! just tell me who you are and we can study together!

you snickered and sent him a picture of your cleavage, since you were laying downwards on bed, reading your philosophy books.

@ puredoll

almost got me baby. but we both know that studying isn’t what you want.

spencer groaned, at the sight and at the feeling of his cock standing up, pretty and ready to go. he pouted, and thought about sending you a picture to try and get you with his puppy eyes, but ended up getting shy about the idea and gave up.

@ entersandman

you’re mean.

you couldn’t help but laugh when the notification of spencer’s new stream popped up.

toying with him was easy, but you too had needs, and were growing needy as well. you wanted him. so bad it almost hurt. and he was growing closer to finding out who you were since you couldn’t help but stare at him in class, lost in his beauty.

so, one day, you decided to make your move…

it was a sunny day, and you had opted to wear one of your best outfits, a white snug dress that laced up around your neck with golden sandals. your hair was up in a curly hairdo with little strands cupping your face and your makeup was done with a large eyeliner and glossy cherry lips. you looked amazing —like any other day— but you decided that today you wanted to notch it up one bit by applying your favorite scented body cream, repainting your toes and nails in white and spritzing your favorite and most precious perfume around your whole body.

then, you took your school purse and keys and left for the day.

you didn’t even need to find him, he came to you like as if god knew of your intentions. he looked pretty. with a blue shirt and tie, and brown trousers and shoes. preppy, nerdy, slim fingers sliding up the bridge of his nose his glasses. his hair was taimed, perfectly combed, and he was clinging onto his satchel like a little kid.

cute. you smiled and slowed your walking towards the class, so you could…

“oh. sorry. please go ahead.” he said as he almost bumped into you going pass the threshold and into the room.

you looked up at him and with a kind smile said. “thanks, pretty.” the last part was tinged in teasing, your lips curving more into a smirk now as you looked away and made your way inside, your perfume engulfing him as you passed by.

and he stood there, frozen. ‘cause not only a pretty girl had just called him pretty himself, but… “pretty”, what you always called him on streams and in your nightly chats. and that smirk…

he gulped. could it be? he looked inside and saw you watching him, curving your eyebrows as in ‘aren’t you gonna come inside?’

his feet moved alone, and before he could stop himself he was sitting right by your side.

“bold move, spencer.” you said, and he shook to the core.

spencer, spencer, spencer, spencer…

it was as if you were made to say his name.

“is it you?” he inquired, his eyes on your profile until you turned towards him with a playful frown.

“ ‘is it me��? who am i, spencer?” you were teasing him. of course you were. he gritted his teeth and clenched his fists on his thighs, his checks flushing, adam’s apple bobbing. he looked around, at the almost empty classroom. “what is it? you can’t say it?” he shook his head and you cooed. “aw, i thought better of you than this, spencer.”

he swallowed harshly and closed his eyes for a second before looking at you like a puppy.

“mommy.” he muttered and you smiled.

“good boy.” you praised him, and he had to swallow down a moan, it sounded better than he had imagined. you were better than he had imagined. you were beautiful, gorgeous, breathtaking… you surely knew how to take his breath away.

“why… why now? why are you telling me now?” he inquired and you hummed.

“you aren’t happy?”

“no! of course not, it’s not that! it’s just…” you understood.

“well i was growing tired and… i really wanted to play with you.” you pouted, and reached for his cheek, caressing it. spencer swallowed again, and gripped his satchel over his legs. you smirked. “what are you hiding, huh?”

“nothing.”

“spence…” you warned and his cheeks got impossibly red.

“you know.”

“yeah, i know. but i want you to say it.” his whole neck flushed and his lips trembled. “come on, be a good boy.” you purred.

“you made me hard.” he explained and you smirked.

“aw, that easy? baby… someone’s needy, hm?” your hand came into his hair, and he hummed, almost moaned as you scratched at his scalp.

“you… you left me.”

“what do you mean baby?” you played with the little hairs on his nape.

“you didn’t enter my streams.” you cooed once again.

“i know. did you miss me?” he nodded. “you did, huh? what did you do on those streams, hm? tell mommy.” god. you couldn’t talk about this things in public, but again, there were two more people in the class since it still was early, and they were on the furthest seats ever on the back chatting away. there’s no way they could hear you. his eyes trailed over to them anxiously and your other hand fell to his thigh. he almost jumped out of his seat. “spence.”

“i… i played with my toys.” he quivered.

“played with your toys, huh?” he nodded, hair falling to his pretty eyes. “what kind of toys?” he gulped when your hand started to move up his inner thigh and below his satchel.

“my… vibrators.” you hummed.

“and did you cum?” he nodded. “was it good?” he shook his head this time. “why not?” you were now drawing circles with your thumb on his thigh and he was stuttering.

“you weren’t there.” you almost melted at his pout. you would give him anything if he played that move on you, by your reaction, spencer knew, and he was gonna take it to his advantage. “i missed you so much mommy…” suddenly someone shouted in the back and startled you. it was a shriek of joy.

‘the class got cancelled!!’

‘are you joking?’

‘nuh-huh! god i’m gonna go back to my house and sleep the rest of the day.’

you could hear the other couple chatting as they quickly gathered their things and left from the back exists in a hurry to get back into their beds.

it was as if god loved you. how else could you have gotten spencer alone… with you?

spencer suddenly felt as if he were being stalked by a predator by how your eyes changed. your hand moved up… up… up… until you were cupping his erection, and he let out the prettiest whimper you’ve ever heard.

“god, you sound prettier than through the screen…” you sighed.

“mommy…”

“what is it baby?” you started to touch him from over his pants, with your hand measuring his length. he was big…

“we can’t… we’re at school…” he whined, although his hips thrusted against your touch in need for more.

“you don’t seem too sure about that.” you smirked. “you’re so pretty, the prettiest boy ever. you know how badly i wanted to enter those streams and see you? but no. i had to go slow with you. well i’m tired of going slow. aren’t you, spence?” he nodded.

“yes, yes, god…”

you pushed his satchel aside. “wanna see you.” he nodded once again, and with desperate fingers struggled to open his pants, pulling from his clothes so his cock would slip free. you clicked your tongue at the sight of his reddened tip. “baby… look at you. doesn’t it hurt?” he nodded.

“i just couldn’t help it…” he cried out. he had touched himself raw. “every time i thought about you…” he flushed. you understood.

“i can’t touch you like this, it’ll hurt you.” you cooed and his puppy eyes came back.

“no! please! it won’t hurt i promise! i’ll be good!” he begged, and you shook your head. “please mommy please…” you sighed.

“i can’t use my hands…” you said, but smirked, there were other ways to make him cum. and you were good at them. his eyes almost popped out of their spheres when you got on your knees in front of him.

“oh god…” he whispered at the sight and the implication of what you were about to do.

“i’m about to ruin my lipstick, so you better behave, hm?” he quickly nodded, desperately even.

“i’ll behave mommy, i promise.”

“good boy, pretty.” you said, and took him in your hand. he moaned, his head falling backwards on his seat. “baby… i haven’t even started yet.” you chuckled.

“sorry, it’s just… i’ve thought so much about this…” he bit down on his botton lip and you let out another chuckle.

“you’re so cute…” and with that your tongue swiped a stroke across his red and raw head. your lips curved at the whimper that fell from his lips and just how quickly his hand came to the top of your head. you licked clean the beads of precum there with a hum. “taste so good baby… better than i imagined.”

“keep praising me and i’ll cum.” he whined breathlessly and you laughed, pumping him slowly from his base before taking him into your mouth with a little moan.

him and his praise kink…

you loved the heady taste, how thick and large he was, and how warm he felt in your mouth.

he wouldn’t stop leaking, and you started to suck, slowly taking more and more of him in your mouth with the bobs of your head. you thanked this was a secluded area and 1. the doors were all closed and 2. there were no cameras, ‘cause spencer wasn’t good at keeping quiet, and you’d kill anyone who saw the pretty faces he was making right now as you fucked him with your mouth.

“mommy…” he moaned, his back arching as you sped up. “fuck. feels so good mommy, so good… thank you, fuck, thank you…” he praised you, and you felt your core getting wetter than it already was. you too had a praise kink after all.

his hips started to thrust up and your hands left him to go to his hips and push him down on his seat.

“sorry, sorry mommy…” he cried as you popped him out of your mouth and hissed a ‘stay put’ at him.

“you’re gonna be good and take it, aren’t you pretty?” he nodded. “that’s my good boy.” you went back at him, licking him from base to tip before taking him back down your throat.

“oh my god…” he was a mess. but he was your mess. he hissed when you gave special attention to his head, licking and sucking harshly. but the pain only made the whole experience better. he was a gentleman, pushing the little strands of hair out of your face, but he was getting lost on the feeling of his impending orgasm. “mommy, i’m gonna…”

“you’re gonna cum for me?” you asked as you pumped him. he nodded, his tongue peeking to wet his lips.

“yes, yes mommy…”

“where do you wanna cum, hm pretty?” you inquired, sucking on his head.

he blushed. “can i…?” he stopped, stuttering.

“come on baby, be good and use your big words.”

“can i cum in your mouth?” his puppy eyes were back, his adam’s apple bobbing. you smiled.

“you wanna cum in my mouth? wanna fill me up and watch me swallow it all?” you haunted him and he nodded. “how do we ask for it?”

“please mommy, please… can i?” you hummed in thought, just to tease him, before nodding.

“yes, you can, baby.” he moaned, and you went back to taking him back in your throat, down to the base, almost choking. the feeling of your throat closing around him making him whimper and thrash.

“ah-ah-ah!” he hiccuped, voice airy and the grip of his hand tightening on your hair. his cock twitching inside your mouth, and with one last suck, he couldn’t hold it anymore. he let go with a high-pitched whimper, his mouth falling open in a silent moan as his head fell back and his neck got exposed to your hungry eyes. you swallowed everything he gave you as you continued bobbing your head to extend his orgasm.

once down from it, you popped him out of your mouth, licking your lips clean.

you looked up at him to watch his chest rising and heaving in breathless puffs of air.

“are you okay baby?” you inquired him, and he mindlessly nodded. you had just sucked him braindead. “that good, huh?” you smirked, and he nodded.

“so good, mommy. thank you.”

“aw… so polite…” you got up from your knees, but not before putting him back in his briefs. “open up.” you patted his lips and he followed your orders. you spat into it and he moaned, happily swallowing. “good boy.”“tastes good?” he nodded. “does it hurt, baby?” you patted his chest, your noses touching.

“no, mommy.” he shook his head.

“still. you’ve gotta take care of yourself baby, how else am i gonna have fun with you, mh?” he nodded. he was still breathless and with a fuzzy mind. “no more touching until you’re all better, understood?”

“understood.”

“atta boy.”

later that day spencer posted on his twitter.

@ entersandman

@ entersandman; head so good i’d be losing mine

after that spencer really did lose his mind.

you were serious about the “no touching”, but this. this was pure torture.

not only he could remember every little thing about your head, but you just looked so good everyday at school, and your messages, and your pictures… god… he was going crazy.

he needed to touch himself but he was supposed to be a good boy, so he couldn’t.

@ entersandman

@ entersandman; i’m being a good boy i promise mommy

but he wanted to rub one out so badly…

“mommy…” he whimpered.

it was a late night friday. 2AM. and spencer was desperately and ridiculously grinding against his pillow. it had been a week since he had the feeling of your mouth around him. a whole week of teasing from your part. he was already healed. and so, oh so desperate.

he hadn’t cum in a week, and it was getting to his head. that’s how he found himself right were he was right now.

“that’s it baby, keep humping that pillow for me.”

you had been surprised by the incoming call. this late at night? it shouldn’t have been bad, but not spencer moaning and whimpering on the other end, what quickly turned you the fuck on.

“oh fuck…” he whined, his sweatpants being the perfect friction against his leaking cock.

“what are you thinking about, huh?”

“your mouth…” he sighed. “mommy please… let me touch myself, please…”

“mmmh… you sound so pretty begging for it, baby… it’s been long since you last did it, huh?”

“yes.” he whimpered.

“awww, poor baby.” you cooed and he groaned at the way his cock jumped. “you wanna touch yourself baby? you wanna cum?” he moaned as a positive. “but what if i want it for me, huh? all that pent up, heavy load of yours, hm?”

he almost came right that instant as he thrusted against the pillow.

“you want it?” he panted and you hummed. “where?”

“in my pussy.” spencer’s eyes rolled.

“oh my god.”

“so… are you sure you wanna waste it in your hand?”

“no, but…” he whined.

“but?”

“you’re not here…”

“so why don’t you come here?” his eyebrows perked up. “come to my place.”

“are you serious?” he questioned you, and you giggled.

“of course i am, it must have been so hard for you this week… you should come here and let me make you feel better.” you purred. he moaned.

“i’ll be there in 10 minutes.” he quickly babbled, and hung up.

you sent him your address as he quickly put on some clothes and took the keys to his car.

now you just had to wait.

“mmmph!” your mouth was on his as soon as he stepped through the door, tongue swiping his lower lip for entrance. what little of his erection had gone down in the way was quickly back as you pushed into his mouth.

“you taste so good…” you whispered against his lips, his hands on your hips as he kissed you once again, desperately.

“need you…” he whined, his cock throbbing against your belly.

“you do, huh?” he nodded. “how much?”

“so much…”

“yeah?” your fingers trailed down his jaw, and he shivered.

“yeah.” he whispered against your lips.

“then show me.” without needing to tell him twice, his hands shot up to the sides of your face, pulling him for the wettest and neediest kiss someone had ever given you. he was pouring everything he had on it, and you moaned, melting against him as he guided you backwards.

“room?” he hummed between kisses.

“to the right.” you answered and squeaked when his big hands came down to your thighs and pulled you up, making you surround his hips. the two of you groaned at the feeling of his erection against your pussy, and you rocked your hips to feel more.

“fuck.”

he quickly made his way into the room, never straying from your lips and softly placing you onto your bed.

“mommy.” he whispered against your jaw as he kissed his way down to your neck.

“yeah, baby?”

“wanna eat your pussy.” he whispered against your skin, and you shivered.

“yeah? you wanna eat my pussy, honey?”

“yes, please.” he begged and you groaned, nodding. he whimpered at just the thought, his hands quickly followed yours to your shorts, pulling them off along with your underwear as you moved up the bed and him; down, kissing at the exposed skin on your stomach. you groaned at the feeling. you had thought so much about this…

he kissed at the skin of your hip, nibbling and sucking as he made his way in between your legs, pulling them over his shoulders.

“you’re so beautiful…” he groaned at the sight of you all spread out for him and glistening… “god i just can’t wait.” he whispered before diving in and licking a fat stroke up your slit with a moan, whimpering when you did too and your hands made their way into his hair and tugged.

“oh god, spencer…” he ate you out like a man starved, sucking at your clit before going back down to your entrance and plunging his tongue inside to slurp out your juices.

“so good, mommy, you taste so good…” he moaned, licking his lips before going back at it. you pulled at his hair, messing it all up as you rocked your pussy against his tongue, riding his face and pulling him closer. he was even louder than you were as he licked everything up.

one of his fingers caressed your entrance and your hips canted upwards, moaning as he pushed it inside.

“fuck, pretty. you’re so good at this… fuck me with your fingers baby.” you ordered and he complied, starting with the one already inside, pumping it in and out as he suckled at your clit. “just like that, good boy.” he whimpered and added another, curling them to hit your g spot. he wanted to make you feel good. he needed the praise. his hips rocked against the mattress as he fucked you with his fingers and licked your clit. “atta boy, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum…” your back arched. “gonna give you this pussy baby. gonna make you a fucking mess. want your load inside of me, fuck, spencer, fuck!” you could feel yourself reaching it, getting closer and closer and closer… “yes, yes, yes!!!!” you used his face as with a final suck and curl of his fingers you fell apart, your eyes rolling back. he moaned when he felt you squeezing his fingers, fucking you through it.

once you came down, he licked you clean. sucking his fingers inside his mouth with a moan.

“come here.” you ordered, pulling from his tee-shirt until he was in between your legs. “you did so good baby… ate me out so good…” you praised him, and he sighed, smiling. “now give me a taste, will you?” you purred, pulling down his bottom lip to open up his mouth as you guided him to yours, kissing him hungrily as you took off his top.

he whimpered, his tongue dancing with your own as you rolled the two of you over and sitting on his lap. “fuuuuck…” he moaned when you started to roll your hips against his.

“you’re so hard…” you bit down on your bottom lip, discarding your shirt. his eyes widened at the sight of your naked and exposed chest, his hands quickly going to your breasts and thumbs rolling your nipples. “i want you now.” you smirked, and he nodded, helping you get rid of the last piece of clothing that was on him, since he wasn’t wearing any underwear. “no underwear? someone came ready…” you smirked and he whined, being cut off by his own moan when your pussy made contact with his cock. your lips engulfed his length as you rocked your hips, lubing him up.

“you’re killing me.” he cried out, his dick twitching, head dribbling with precum.

“shhh… let me make you feel better, pretty.” you kissed his lips, taking him in your hand as you rose your hips and guided him to your entrance. “gonna fuck you so good spence… you’ll forget your own name.” you promised before you slowly sank down on him.

and spencer knew you were telling the truth, ‘cause just with the tip inside, his mind was blank.

“oh god, oh my god, jesus christ, fuck, shit…” you wanted to laugh at the indecent amount of words that were stumbling past his lips.

“aw come on baby, already?” you smirked. “it’s just the tip.” his hands were on your hips, fingertips pressing against your supple skin. “are you sure can you handle it?” you inquired but he didn’t answer, moaning as you lowered yourself just the slightest amount, taking another inch. “spencer.” you harshly called out his name.

“yes?” he dazedly replied, chest heaving, cheeks flushed. you could eat him up.

“i said. can. you. handle it?”

“yesyesyes, please mommy. i can. i promise.”

“good. don’t you dare cum until i tell you to.” you ordered before taking all of him in in a quick movement. his eyes rolled backwards and from his mouth erupted the most beautiful whimper you’ve ever heard.

“oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”

“sure, if you wanna call me that.” you shrugged, a smug smile on your lips as you started rolling your hips to adjust to his girth. “fuck, you’re stretching me out so good baby, so fucking big… a pretty boy with a pretty and big cock, you have it all don’t you?” he moaned, nodding at your words even if he hadn’t really processed them. he was trying his best not to burst.

come on, he hadn’t come in a week. a week in which you hadn’t stopped edging him. you had to know what you were doing to him. you just had to.

“don’t move, please.” he muttered, his dick twitching, he was gonna cum so hard.

“we haven’t even started yet…” you sighed, and he pouted. he wanted to make you feel good, but you had this effect on him in which he could cum with just one single touch. “i thought you could handle it…”

“i can! it’s just…” he saw you smirk. “god… you know what you do to me, you know.” you puckered your lips as you leaned closer to his own.

“that i drive you crazy?” you rolled your hips and he moaned, his grip tightening. “oh i know darling, i can feel it…” you whispered against his ear before your lips latched to his neck and your hips started to slightly move.

“you’re killing me.” he whimpered, and you hummed, sucking a pretty mark where you knew he wouldn’t be able to hide it. “don’t stop.” his hands wandered to your ass and helped you move more, slowly riding his cock.

you moaned when his tip kissed your cervix.

“fuck baby you’re so deep, can’t wait to feel you pump me full.” he moaned, and his hips subconsciously pumped upwards, making you laugh, although you almost squeaked. “oh you liked that, huh? like the idea or your cum inside me, pretty?” he nodded.

“yes, fuck, yes. want it all deep inside your pussy mommy.” you moaned, moving harder. the squelches of your wetness around his dick moving in and out of you filled your room, only turning the two of you more.

“yeah baby? want me round and pretty for you?” the idea almost made him cum and you noticed. one of your hands surrounded his neck. “answer me, baby.”

“yes,yes,yes.”

“good boy.” you started to ride him in earnest. his eyes fell to your jumping breasts and then his hands followed, rolling your nipples to stimulate you. your back arched. “that’s it, touch me pretty, touch my tits.” your hand tightened around his neck and his hips stuttered against yours. “you like it, hm? like my hand around your neck baby?” he nodded.

“harder.” he begged and your smile got wider.

“atta boy.” you complied and his moans increased in volume. “that’s it pretty, let me hear you.”

“mommy…” he whimpered. “i can’t, it feels so good…!”

“don’t you dare. i’ve just started playing with you.” he whined, but nodded, his muscles tensing as you went faster, your own moans spilling into the room. “fuck, such a good cock. love it. love your cock baby.” you praised him, and you felt it twitch. he rose to hold you, his hands back on your ass to drive you harder down on his cock until his tip was breaching your cervix and your eyes were rolling back.

you wouldn’t let him cum? fine. then he’ll make you cum first.

his mouth latched to your right nipple as his hips snapped up against yours.

“spencer!” you screamed in ecstasy.

“mommy, fuck, mommy.” he panted against your chest, moaning against your skin before his tongue would circle your nipples and suck.

“don’t stop. don’t stop, just like that.” you were surprised at his sudden change, but you weren’t gonna complain, not when he was fucking the lights out of you.

“it was made for me, mommy. your pussy was made for me. it takes me so good…” he was babbling, whimpering as you tugged on his hair. the two of you moved messily, taking from the other, giving at the same time. desperate. hungry. it was as if you two were in heat, lost on each other.

“fuck baby, i’m gonna cum. gonna cum all over your pretty cock.” you moaned, and he went harder, one of his hands surrounding your waist to keep you in place for his incessant thrusts and the other moving to your clit, drawing circles on it to push you closer. “fuck,fuck,fuck!!!!!” you screamed, your back arching as with a couple more thrusts your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, clenching down hard on his dick.

spencer whimpered, driving into you over and over again to fuck you through it, begging like crazy during it. “please mommy, can i cum? can i cum now? please let me cum, let me fill you up mommy.”

“yes pretty yes, fuck my pussy, pump me full of your cum. i want it in my womb.” his hips stuttered and with, one, two, three more pumps he was burying himself impossibly deeper, breaching your cervix and spilling into your womb with a moan.

you two continued to rock against the other to ride the high down until all that was left was pure bliss. you two flopped down against the bed, you on top of him as you tried catching your breaths.

“uh…” he tried, clearing his throat. he was out of words.

“yeah.” you nodded. “that was…”

“yeah.” he copied you. “wanna go again?” he asked after a beat, too eager to make you feel good again.

“yeah.” you muttered before devouring his lips.

[…]

months passed, and spencer was once again on one of his lives, shirtless, his stomach tied up in knots in nervousness. his adam’s apple bobber, his breath hitched as your fingers scratched his neck.

“hey you all, i have a surprise for you.” he said before an unknown figure slowly joined him on his bed, completely clad in lingerie. “this… is my girlfriend, and today… she’ll be joining me.” he stuttered as you pressed wet kisses to his neck and jaw.

“ready, pretty?” you inquired him, kissing his lips. and he nodded, puppy eyes staring at you. “good. cause i’m gonna fuck you dumb. and they are all gonna watch.”

☆☆☆☆☆

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honestsycrets · 1 year ago

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mío | baby-fever!miguel o'hara x wifey!reader

❛ pairing | miguel o'hara x wifey!reader, starved prequel

❛ type | oneshot, explicit

❛ summary | after watching mayday, miguel develops a bad case of baby fever, longing for a family of his own.

❛ tags | explicit, miguel has baby fever, babysitting, talk of family planning and contraception, f!reader, breeding, pregnancy kink, much fluff, some angst, starved!reader, miguel being frustrated and cute, clean that kitchen, one stereotype of latina women, Spanish is not translated, best friend!peter, self edited.

❛ request fulfilled | could you possibly write an imagine in which Miguel and his wife take care of mayday? + multiple requests for more starved reader/miguel.

❛ sy's notes | written to fulfill some requests. i do have another daddy miguel blurb to fulfill, but my future works should be nice and angsty.

Peter has it out for him.

It’s the only logical reason why he’d do this shit to him.

Miguel stood in his dark room in a pair of scratchy jeans, dragging a belt loop to loop when he heard the door to his room draw open. A resonant schwap, schwap, schwap.

“Mi reina?” Miguel cocked his eyebrow up, extending his claws.

“¿Sí?” you called back from the bathroom, the distant scent of his favorite perfume wafting into the air. Miguel threw a look to the bathroom, reaching for the bedroom door. It burst open before he could open it.

“Hi, Miguel! Where’s your wife?”

Peter dragged his feet into the room, whirling around with a sloppily put-together backpack that leaked diapers onto the floor. An exasperated breath left his lips, dripping in the way he looked at Peter.

Unfortunately, his little wife liked Peter a bit too much for his taste.

“I should have known.” Miguel ran his hand through his hair, strands of mocha brown flyaways wisping along his tawny forehead. “Why are you here?”

His normally disheveled appearance was a little more disheveled. It wasn’t his appearance that bothered him but how it reached his eyes. Shocked, confused, tired. Peter pat his deltoid, awkward laughter choking in his throat. It bubbled on the edge of an overwhelmed sob.

“Well, you see, your wife said she’d watch Mayday because I have a date, and I haven’t had a date in a really, really long time. Like, a really long time—”

“Is Peter here?”

His head snapped to your bathroom where you came out, threading a golden hoop earring. You probably already knew the fight that was heading your way-- but for your part, you couldn’t be bothered to care any less.

“Got it, you need this date.” Miguel cut Peter off, standing behind you with his massive arms crossed. “¿Por qué no me dijiste?”

“¡Mi nena! Muévete Miguel,” you giggled, shoving your way past Miguel to Peter’s child carrier, sneaking your hands underneath her little armpits and whirling her around. She cackled, a glittering warmth to her mischievous eyes. You came to a stop, settling Mayday against your chest, nuzzling your foreheads together in some secret pact that the two of you shared.

Oh no, no, no, no. Not this. It hits him at once.

The sight of his wife— beautiful and cuddly with a very young baby in her arms. The only sight more beautiful was at the altar on his wedding day, your shy smile behind a sheer veil. It had been a long time, too long, since he had someone to call him father. He can still picture her glimmering eyes, the way she looked at him in nothing short of admiration, looking past the things that he’d done to see him and only him. Glimpsing at Mayday, remembering Gabriella’s soft, small face, it took him a moment to snap free.

He's so fucked.

“You would have said no, amado mío.”

You’re a natural at this, scooting by both men to set Mayday on the bed. Your tiny fingers spiraled out from her belly to change her diaper. Peter jittered uncomfortably, looking as though he wanted to jump in himself. You cleaned her, replacing the dirty diaper with a clean one. “We’re going to a market with Tío Miguel--”

“Don’t bring me into this.”

“Are you sure it's okay? I’ll be back at five, it's just a few hours, really--”

“¡Vete! A ratty house robe and a dirty spider suit aren’t sexy. Look at mi Miggy,” now you’re just buttering him up. He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, inspecting the ground. “Wear something nice.”

They’re sexy to her, he might have murmured. Not on a date, you bopped him. Mayday’s bright eyes tracked the space between you and Peter before you broke away to wash your hands. Peter’s clammy hands cupped Mayday’s sweet face, littering at least a dozen sickly daddy kisses over her tiny face. But Miguel what if--

“Adiós, Peter!” You returned to force Peter out of your room. Miguel peered at Mayday whose head snapped to the side, cheek against her fiery hair as the door clicked shut. He braced himself for the shrill that would inevitably come with her realization that her daddy was gone. She whined, grabbing her toes and tipping nearly off the side of the bed. Miguel begrudgingly hovered at her feet, blocking her from rolling off the bed. He could do this, he told himself, he could resist those giant baby eyes staring up at him.

He didn't need a baby, he didn't.

He blames Peter for having such a good baby.

She doesn’t ask for much other than requiring chest-to-chest contact with Miguel. It’s not that he doesn’t want to hold her, he finds himself aggravated by how much he likes to be around her. In a market full of things to look at food trinkets such as necklaces, body scrubs, and empanadas, it’s all her. Miguel props her up with an arm just under her bum, her tiny finger peeking curiously into his fangs. He snapped his teeth playfully at her, a nip, nip, nip, missing playfully every time. It rips ping a toothy grin across her face.

“No biting Miguelito,” you called out, sliding your fingers in a teasing ring around his muscled back to chest. You leaned up on your tippy toes, placing a small little kiss on his lips. You ran off to go get her a pineapple whip after her tiny fist yanked your hair over and over again. You relented, staring at what she was cooing at. Sweets-- obviously, sweets. All the little ones loved sweets.

“She likes it.”

“Ya sé,” you said, “But we don’t need anyone noticing you’ve grown fangs.”

“Tch,” he clicks his teeth in protest. She does too, throwing you a mean look for interrupting her fun. You plucked up a bit of the whip on your spoon, cutting through her displeasure through the power of sugar.

"There's a lot of people here, Miggy, let's go to the park." You point toward the park, pointing away from the mounds of fresh produce and locally sourced goods toward a healthy patch of green grass. Miguel is glad-- he’s sick of being stared at for his huge frame. Despite the ring on his finger, people still seem to try their luck. He couldn't be more disinterested.

You lay a picnic blanket as Miguel holds Mayday's treat. Mayday sprawls across his chest, trying to take just one more bite-- then another-- Miguel looks down, chin level, eyebrow raised. She offers a bit on her tiny index finger to Miguel. A peace offering. “She’s not going to wait.”

“Give her to me.” You kicked off your sandals on the edge of the blanket, dropping your things on another corner. You pluck Mayday from Miguel’s arms and set her down on the blanket in a way that is too easy. As though you wouldn’t have much of a learning curve in becoming a mother. No, no— you never mentioned anything about kids. Did you even want kids? He couldn't bring his heart to ask, to hope again.

“I didn’t know you were so experienced with kids.”

“Mami had six,” you noted, plopping down with the whip by Mayday’s side. She sat with a small slant, reaching out toward the sweet treat again with those chunky, adorable hands. You brought her into your lap, at last relenting. “When you’re the oldest, you have to learn a little something to help out. Can you imagine-- being pregnant six times? Ay no.”

“How many times do you want to be pregnant?” he blurts out. Usually timed and precise, the question causes him to pinch his brow as he sits beside you. “Si quieres,”

Your other hand comes on top of his and shifts it away from his face.

“As many as will make you happy.”

Shock. He chews on that response, his eyes glued to Mayday lapping at the last spoon of sweets you are willing to give her. She falls into a fit of complaints, a conniving look at the sweets, just as you lift her onto your shoulder.

"I never thought about it."

"No more, your papa won't forgive me if I bring you home all sugared up," you tsked your tongue at her. You patted along her back in small, tight circles until her angry huffs faded away. He reaches for the baby bag, slipping free a soft yellow blanket with white spiders strewn across the front. Miguel slides the blanket on top of Mayday’s small body, her groggy eyes sliding closed.

The more he watches you with Mayday, holding her so close, swaying as you held her, the deeper this ache burrowed in his chest. You would look beautiful all swollen with his child. Never mind Mayday or Peter, he can nearly see it, feel it under his fingers, the feeling of your taut belly under his skin, or the kick of tiny feet against his palm.

“We’ll see, Miggy.”

We’ll see-- the answer seems too noncommittal, too distant to be a satisfactory answer. With Mayday sound asleep, you settle her between your plush thighs. She expelled bursts of energy that milked her energy dry.

A little old woman passed by, her cane pierced soft grass as she moved closer with a bag of tomatoes and green beans. Her face, aged by time, pulls into a wide smile. He doesn't like her smile.

“You two are doing a great job. How old is she?”

You blink, looking up into the woman’s cool blue eyes, her dark hair peppered with thick grey and white strands. You tuck Mayday in her soft blanket, sparing the woman a kind smile that Miguel doesn’t quite have the patience for.

“Oh, oh. Thank you-- um, a couple of months,” you recount, perhaps thinking of Peter’s anxious pacing or his delighted shouts about becoming a father.

“Adopting is a great option. Back in the day, my husband was a bodybuilder too. Had a low sperm count don’t you know. Steroids shrink things. Oh, but these days you can do all sorts of things like IV--”

A what-- Miguel’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull at the suggestion. Was this old bitch’s suggestion that he couldn’t do it-- couldn’t get you pregnant? He could easily do that. If he wanted you pregnant, you would be shocking pregnant. He’d be damned if some old woman put it in your mind that he couldn’t.

“We’re babysitting for a friend,” he blurts out. “I have--” had, “a daughter.”

“Oh, do you? I’m sorry. I thought-- well, it doesn’t matter what I thought, have a good day."

She’s saying that, but it comes out slanted. You don’t bother correcting Miguel, not on this. Rather, your hand inched toward his, picking up on the energy that was pluming from his body in waves. Irritation-- annoyance-- the little old lady hobbles off. You’re in your mind well enough to bid her goodbye. But you know better than to say anything more, slumping your cheek on Miguel’s firm chest. It makes the ache of Gabriella's memory a little more bearable.

Low sperm count his ass.

It bothers him long after Mayday is gone. Peter, for his part, looks refreshed. He supposes that’s what happens with a full day of opportunity to empty your balls after weeks of no relief. It bothers him long after you come back from the kitchen, his favorite dark red slip plastered to your perfect body. It would look beautiful, full of his children— he just knows it.

“I may have hijacked the kitchen a little bit,” you teased, the waft of warm chicken and brewed spices filled his nose. He had no appetite. “But I made you some pollo guisado.”

“Hm,” he grunts into a pillow. “Later.”

Beside the bed, he has a bowl of brightly colored condoms. With your sensitivity to birth control, it is the best option available. It wasn’t, however, something he was ever happy about. He should be able to feel your body. Not once had he felt your body pure and unadulterated, warm and perfect for him. He was your husband. He wanted that moment— to fill you up just once, watch his cum dribble out of your cunt. It would be perfect. You set the food away, bowl and spoon clinking together.

“Miguel.”

Forget your warm body. This room is too quiet. It is almost stifling in its silence. Mayday’s sweet huffs, the memory of Gabriella’s laughter. A proper home full of a child's giggles. He’s going crazy-- he has to be-- this isn’t normal. This isn’t Miguel.

“Mi vida, don’t pout,” you reach out, rolling your fingers through his long brown hair. Your fingers tease along his scalp, turning around his ear. Your fingers tickle his lobe, your voice cemented in a concern that he wanted nothing more but to fix if it were anything other than this. “Miggy. Miggy, what is wrong? You look sad.”

“I’m not sad,” he says with a whine on his pillow. How silly he must look with his broad arms wound around the body pillow, squeezing its fluff for life. If he said the words well enough, you might believe them.

“I know you are,” you nudge the pillow loose. He takes you instead, the air thickening with the closeness. You fed off the tension, sliding your leg over the sheet that covers his naked hip. “Tell me why.”

He turns his hands over your thighs, traveling past your hips to ghost along your belly.

“Sí, Miggy?”

“I need…” he trailed off, finding the words nearly impossible to admit. They grow into a ball and cement in his throat, present but stubborn. Rather than break the words free, he swallows a bolus of desire and frustration. “It’s nothing. Let it go.”

The issue was— you loved him enough to let it do so.

Miguel doesn’t want to press the issue. He knows you. All you want is Miguel’s happiness. Sometimes, he worries it is at the price of your own. The distance he places between you and him is intolerable. It bothers him every time he finds you babysitting Mayday.

Today, while Peter goes on a small date, you and Mayday make his favorite empanadas. She’s covered in a dusting of flour from head to toe. Peter would have fun with that.

“Miggy you’re back?” you called as Mayday’s chubby hands shot out, nearly plopping off the counter if not for Miguel’s quick reflexes, setting her back in place.

“Empanadas?” he settles the words in a small kiss to your lips. You glance at him over your shoulder.

“It's... it's Gabi's birthday, isn't it?"

You’re too good for him. Despite the day coming and going, no one else notices his grief today. Not even Peter who came in alongside him, reading the room, and snatching up Mayday off the countertop. He’s babbling something, a thank you, see you later— you kiss Mayday with only the sweetness a mother could know.

“Peter! Mayday made these for you,” you reach out to a box of uncooked empanadas. “Take them home!”

Her first empanadas— the delight is palpable. Peter may have snapped a photo, or ten, of his little flour girl on the way out, empanadas in hand. Then there’s silence. Miguel returns the nearly forgotten bundle of empanada dough and filling to the fridge in the space of unspoken tension. Miguel dips down to your neck, caramelized perfume warm on your neck. His lips trace the warm pulse of your neck.

“Mami,” his voice mesmeric, warm like the filling you used to make him happy when no one else could. Your doting attention, even in the face of real issues like work and babies, was always on him.

"Sí, mi vida?"

His hands coast around your waist, using his strength to gently turn you around. It isn’t important right now. What is important is how he lifts you up onto the floury surface, purring his need into your slight ear. “I want a baby.”

“¿Qué?”

“Una niña,” Miguel leans his fingers along your collarbone.

“Oh, Miggy.” You puff the words. They come out almost wounded. You know him so well, the vulnerability of the words causing him to look down. Your warm palms cradle his cheeks, forcing him to look into your eyes. “You miss being a father, don't you?”

You’re not stupid. Neither is he. He thought he could wait— watch Mayday grow up and not feel this sundering longing. As though he could stomach never feeling a child in his arms again. The ghosts of the past that came with Mayday’s longing haunt him day by day.

You devour his insecurity, winding your legs around his waist and forcing him forward. He stumbles into your embrace, as though he were not a man who could decimate villains and spiders alike. When he was here, in your arms, he barely felt like the weapon of a man that he is.

“Miguel. Speak to me.”

“You’re right,” he can’t lie— can’t hide the longing that comes with the thought of his own child on his chest. Not Mayday, no matter how many times she cuddled up to his chest. At the end of the day, she would never be his. You drew your lip into your mouth, nipping it fat and red, a bob in your head. His heart beats faster, strumming as though it would break free from his chest. Whatever it is you’re thinking he’s not sure. Only that it’s been so long.

“I just want to make you happy, will this make you happy?” you nearly whisper, knowing that there’s no one but him to hear the words. It’s what he wants for you, too. As he stands there, coursing his fingers along your thighs and hiking your dress up your hips, he can’t help but feel the foggy discomfort of forcing you into parenthood before you were ready.

“It will.”

As well as it could. It would never erase Gabriella-- and, in the vulnerability of begging his wife for another child, came the guilt. Not only the guilt of failing to be a proper father or to protect her but moving on without her in his life to a beautiful family she would have loved. The feelings surge in his chest, a well of uncomfortable emotions in his eyes, threatening to fall.

“Miguel,” you’re whispering, your fingers cutting across his sharp cheekbones. You cup his face, drawing your lips together in a commanding kiss. You never liked being ignored or forgotten. He’s not sure how he could now, with your tongue flicking between his lips, begging him to come back with a sugary sweet whine. “Stay with me, Miguel.”

“I am,” he says, gripping either side of the counter by your hips. He feels your eyes on him, soft and careful, pressuring him to meet your gaze. He searches for an inkling of an answer in your gaze. "¿Qué piensas?"

“We can try,” you bite your lip, sliding it free between your teeth. “If you don’t have a low sperm count,” you tease. “Maybe it’ll take.”

“¡Por dios!” He throws a curse to the side as if he believed in such a being, throwing a look back at you. “You don’t actually believe that vieja.”

“Ay Miggy, of course not.” His lips work into a budding smile. You leaned up against his stubbly jaw, setting soft kisses there. Your lipstick stains his neck, dragging down to his prominent adam’s apple. He looks down at you with heady eyes, tracing the way you suckled a mark on his throat. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like them a little more when others noticed them, little marks of possession. Miguel’s fingers come up to the straps of your dress, easing them over and down your slight shoulders. You pull back, words forming puff against his neck.

“Not right here,” you inhale a soft breath. “Someone could come in.”

Miguel eases his finger over the small bud of your breast, rolling his thumb along the silken skin, His hand comes up, encompassing your neck and shoving you back into the cabinets. It isn’t comfortable, not by far. He works the nub to its peak before turning his attention to the other. His mouth covers your breast, fangs grazing your nub as he suckled and tugged gently. Miggy, you pull him back up, stripped of your touch. Your hand slide across Miguel’s chest, tracing the taut muscles of his chest.

“Who would come in?”

“Peter,” you answer.

It’s always Peter. He supposes that you wouldn’t want your friend to see you here, cunt stuffed with Miguel on the very same counter you earlier made him empanadas on. Miguel snatched the dress that fell along your hips laxly, utilizing it to yank you off the counter. You fell forward into Miguel, a heavy wall of muscle, your lips failing to form anything of use. You looked at him, cheeks flush and eyes doting, he’s the only one you see.

“The balcony, then.”

“Dianche, Miguel! Do you want all of Nueva York to see me?”

“Maybe.”

No, but see Miguel breeding you? Undoubtedly yes.

He couldn’t simply choose the bed, that would be too easy. Miguel set a kiss on your forehead, soft and scratchy with his stubble. You return it by dragging him down for another kiss, a wave of warmth coming over him as you force your hips back onto him, rolling your hips against his, teasing him. Miguel doesn’t appreciate the tease and gently pushes on your hips, motioning you to face the counter.

“Bend over.”

"Can't we go to my room?" you complain but comply all the same. Miguel’s palm ghosts your spine, dragging his fingers smoothly over the middle of your back and past the dress that gathered around your hips, He strips you of the little cover the dress gave, eager to have you bare and rid of the thin clothing that served as a veil from prying eyes. Miguel can cover you from the prying eyes of others if necessary. Not that he cared if others saw him fucking-- he’s all the more eager to have you all to himself, here and now.

“No panties,” he notes, his warm hands on your inner thighs. “It’s almost like you knew.”

“I might have,” you return, spreading your legs obediently for him. He palms your vulva, your hips shifting down over his hand. Sticky and wet, he wonders if his need to breed you has rubbed off on you too. His fingers shift, sliding over your soft hole. “Apúrate Miguel, you’re so slow.”

“Can’t you be be good for once.”

You were always bossy. He likes it, most the time, being led around by what his pretty little wife wants. Today he wants to take his time, curving his broad fingers into your glistening cunt. Your wetness drips over his knuckles, fingers teasing the velvety soft walls he has never felt without a condom. A pleasured cry wracks in your chest, turning your head over your shoulder to watch Miguel’s fingers stretching you out. No matter how much your walls gave under his fingers, you would still ache when he penetrated you. It was the favourite part, the rich pull of his dick into your hole, bottoming out as best he could in your stomach. He soothes your complaints by grazing his other hand against your perky clitoral hood, finding the soft nub there for relief. You settle your arms on the floured surface.

“I never-- ah-- am,” you threw back.

Miguel slipped his fingers free, cupping your cunt with his palm for a teasing slap. You want to be good-- it’s just so hard, your cunt pulsing in the abswnce of his touch. He drags his sodden fingers to your lips, glazing them in taste of your lubricant. You suckle your tongue around his thick digits, savoring your own taste, his soft grunt of approval spurring you on. You feel like such a good girl with his fingers crooked in your mouth.

“Are you ready?” Miguel stands fully upright, dragging your hips to his. He’s hard as the counter you were pathetically clinging onto. His hipbones ground into your plush ass, dick pulsing in his immediate ache to feel your cunt. He backs up, fiddling with something at the waist. You don’t need to ask to know that it was his big cock grinding between your cheeks, smearing fluid over your slit.

“No condom?”

“No condom,” he affirms. You bow your head, nodding gently over the countertop. The head of his cock drove into your wetness, pushing past bundles of nerves. It’s impossibly different without the bag over his dick. It’s been so long. His world blinks out, savoring the feeling like he was an inexperienced teenager again.

“Carajo, you’re so good,” he finds himself cursing, leaning over your back.

“Now he says I’m good."

“Shh,” Miguel clips with a mean nip at your nape, lining it with soft kisses, encouraging you on to take him. Warm and wet, Miguel can only describe the slide into your cunt as untethered delight. Released from the bondage of his usual condom, he’s a mess against your soaked cunt, gripping you for a semblance of stability.

I just want to make you happy. For all your needy complaints and little quips, he knows you do. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here, with your hands cupped on top of his, squeezing for more closeness. Miguel laces your fingers together in a needy weave, drawing back to stroke his cock right back into your wet body. You lead one of his hands between your legs, urging him on to stroke your clit. Your walls clamp down on him, teasing out bursts of pleasure with how deeply he was buried. Miguel’s lips part into a whine of his name, skin slapping against skin. He sets a kiss in the crook of your neck, breath nearly unbearable.

“Mami,” he gasps, the word coming out between his unstable thrusts. Your eyes shut hard, sparks of pleasure winding and building in your core. “Give me a baby.”

“Sí papi,” you heave, “I”m trying to.”

Miguel knows what you like-- and you like him desperate. His voice so low and rich that you gush around his swollen length, falling apart below him. He catches your body from dropping in an instant, his thighs shaking as he works you through the fibers of gentle pleasure. Hot pressure builds low in his stomach.

“Qué bella eres. I’m going to finish, fill you and knock you up,” he whispers, drawing himself free and admiring the hazy space of pleasure and reality. Miguel turns you back to face him. You think you may complain-- you didn’t cum, or something of the sort. He shifts you to sit on the counter, spreading your vulva for inspection. Miguel spat on your cunt, rolling his fingers over the swollen folds to spread you apart. He slipped into the space between your shaking legs. You felt him thrust into your body hard and sharp. Your hands reached out, dragging Miguel’s shoulders forward, clinging onto his body.

It comes all at once, Miguel’s stuttering thrust forward, a deep groan filling the kitchen, his hand clasped onto your thigh so hard you know he’ll bruise it. You catch his moan in a kiss he doesn’t reciprocate, buried so deep in your body that all he can think to do is to force you to take all of it. He shakes himself free of the web of pleasure that he’s enveloped in, looking at you past the thin rivulets of sweat you wiped away with your loving thumbs.

“I think there are better positions for baby making,” you lean in, kissing him gently. He returns the kiss this time, eyes light of the strain and stress of the last few days. “Like… not this.”

Miguel pulls back, his soft cock slipping free from your warm entrance. Miguel watches as his seed dribbles from your hole, grunting in acknowledgement. He swipes your mixed fluids and rolls it between his fingers.

“I’m open to suggestions.”

He loves his wife. More than anything. What he doesn’t love is how Peter seems to know that you’re trying for a baby.

The thing about having a woman from his same cultura was this: you loved to talk with your best friend. Who, just so happened to be Peter. He doesn’t even have to say anything, just staring at him with a quirk on his lip and a terrible glitter in his eye after he’s resolved another meeting.

“Hey, Miguel.”

“Don’t start.”

He’s crowded with work at his desk-- he has no time for Mayday’s curious little eyes to glitter at him, Peter to be doing that shit he did when he wanted to be helpful. He offered his hands up, shrugging.

“I’m just saying! I’m a man, you’re a man,” he mumbles, inching a little closer and closer. “If you want a baby--”

“Let me guess. She told you.”

“Mayday could use a spider buddy,” he held Mayday up, out of her carrier. Miguel glanced down at her wild hair, exhaling air out of his nose with a little huff. “Sooner than later?”

“I’ve done it before,” Miguel throws back. “I know how to knock up my own wife, Peter. I don’t need help.”

Peter is offering help as if Miguel hadn’t tasted the changes in your body when he ate you out. Never mind that he saw you nauseated this morning, too sick to handle a call that Miguel promptly answered. He knew his seed had stuck-- you wouldn’t feel so miserable otherwise. It doesn’t matter, he’d answer them all if it meant another little one in his arms at the end of it all. Just so long as you and the baby were safe.

“Are you sure? I know--”

“I’m damn sure.” Miguel turned around, his head in his hand. “I’ve had enough of you. Why don’t you do something useful? Bring her something for her morning sickness.”

“Oh,” realization fell over Peter like a hammer, looking down to Mayday who looked right back up to her father. For all that Peter knew about his love life, he was shocked that you hadn’t told him how awful the smell of breakfast meat made you feel. His hand fell away, a film of pride slipping from his practiced features when Peter spoke. “But... She’s already pregnant?”

He leers. Peter scuttles away.

Privacy is important to Miguel. You knew the damn rule. No telling Peter about the inner workings of your bedroom. For that, you were going to fucking get it. You likely knew you were going to get it-- even if you were likely already pregnant.

He can’t wait.

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buckyalpine · 2 months ago

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Give me drunk Bucky who wakes up in your bed, confused over why he's in the softest pj's he's ever felt and for some reason wearing a giant fur coat he can only assume is from a pimp because who else would own such a thing.

What the hell happened

Mere hours earlier; 3:30 am, Guys night

"Noooooo" Bucky howled, letting his body go deadweight while Thor continued to carry him to his room, the only one strong enough to get the soldier off the floor after he'd polished the bottle of Asdargian mead clean. "Wanna see y/n"

"Yeah, can't imagine what y/n would say if she saw you being carried off like a princess" A very tipsy Sam and Steve followed behind while Bucky's bottom lip jutted out into an exaggerated pout, head thrown back with is eyes closed in defiance "She's still off on that mission, she'll be back soon, you can see her then-

Before Steve could finish, Bucky's eyes shot open, scrambling out of Thor's arms and stumbling towards your room. There was no time to stop him from entering, a drunk giggle slipping past his lips as he let himself in and sighed contently. By the time the three men reached, Bucky's shirt had already been discarded beside his socks.

"Oh no- Steve snorted at the sound of Bucky's belt bucky hitting the floor, his lip sticking out in concentration as he tried to work at the button of his jeans.

"Barnes, I swear if you take your pants off-Damn it" Sam huffed, a pair of black jeans landing on his head. "At least keep your boxers-Oh hell nah" He ducked before Bucky's intimates became aquainted with his face. "Don't you dare helicopter that third leg-he's doing it"

No one intervened as Bucky decided to make himself more comfortable, clearly missing you as he sighed, walking over to your closet. He was in there suspiciously long before emerging with-

"Buck, those are-

"Soft" Bucky hummed, coming out of your closet with a set of pj's you wore often, oversized so they'd be extra comfy. Bucky giggled at the smell of your soft scent, slipping the shirt over his head and putting the pants on, flopping on your bed like a cat. "Smells like y/n"

"Do we just leave him here"

"At least he's wearing pants" Steve sighed, frowning when he heard running footsteps approaching along with a chaotic cackling, who else would be still this active at this hour-

"There you guys are!! We're doing body shots off of- wait you're here. C'mon capsicle, take your shirt off-

"For fucks' sake Tony"

"Where the hell did you get that jacket" Sam's face scrunched when he notice Tony's shirt was missing however he was in a large coat which he'd thrown off, the pile of for landing on a half sleepy Bucky. Bucky's eye peeked open at all the fuss, wrapping himself up in the coat and blissfully falling asleep with his face in your pillow, the rest of the chaos mere white noise.

"SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS-"

"TONY NO"

"TONY YES"

Present

"What do we have here" you coo, giggling at a very disoriented Bucky who blinks up at you with puppy eyes, a pink blush spreading on his face. You'd just returned from your mission with Nat, the entire compound still reeking of alcohol, the hallway littered with various still drunk Avenger men. The only thing that cut through the smell was the fresh breakfast a happy Thor had already started, the only one standing as if nothing had happened.

You'd stepped over a sleeping Sam and Steve in the hallway to get to your room, cocking a brow at the large mound of fur and soft snoring sleeping in your bed.

"Good morning, sweet boy" You brushed back Bucky's hair, bending down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, letting him take his time to figure out his surroundings, "have a fun night"

"Missed you" he mumbled, pulling you to lay on the bed so he could cuddle up with you, his head now resting on your chest instead. "Missed you so much"

"I missed you too, bub" You continued to gently play with his hair, happy your boyfriend got to have a night of fun and thankful that you always kept painkillers in your bedside drawer. Poor baby was going to need it. You noticed the pile of clothes that were thrown on the floor, they were definitely Bucky's but Bucky was in clothes so what was he wearing-

"Buck?"

"hm?" "Are those my pjs?"

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cyberjam · 1 year ago

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ATSV HEADCANON: they have a crush on you . . . ☆

warnings - none really, super fluffy and adorable :), semi-proof read so i apologize for grammatical errors if there are any! no use of name or y/n, gender-neutral reader!

word count - 2.1k

main masterlist <3

☆ . . . miles morales

I imagine you two already being well-acquainted friends with each other once he realized his feelings for you. For quite some time he had a crush on gwen but now his heart strings are pulling him towards you, so he's struggling when it comes to addressing his feelings.

If you're in the same room as Miles, he will stare. Any conversation that he was having before is long forgotten and all that's on his mind is you.

Miles doesn't need to study, he's one of the top students in school. But he continues to go on study dates with you because he likes being in your presence and sharing his headphones with you while eating yummy pastries.

He has an entire journal dedicated to you. Said journal includes: small journal entries of his day with you, little quotes of the funny/cute things you've said that stuck with him throughout the day, candid drawings of you that he created whenever you two hung out, cute sketches of you and him stargazing or slow-dancing together (and other secret drawings of him saving you as spider-man and cradling your body in his big strong arms but we won't get into that...)

Miles really can't get enough of you. He laughs extra loud at your jokes even if they aren't funny, his heartbeat quickens at the mention of your name, he'll offer you his jacket even if you don't need it, he always smiles when something reminds him of you, he'll share his headphones with you and shyly ask if you and him can make a "study playlist" (he listens to it at night while drawing you), and overall is just madly in love with you.

He wants to be with you more than anything, he's just struggling to find the right time to ask you. <3

"Hey, don't touch that! It's- No! It's not a diary, it's just...secret."

☆ . . . gwen stacy

She's pretty awkward herself. You were assigned to be partners for a project that would play a big part in your final grade, she came off slightly cold and seemed to be annoyed at your presence which made your relationship start off rocky. In reality she was just stressed, juggling her spider duties, getting kicked out of her house, and then school on top of that, it was just a lot. But when you made the effort to plan things and work around her busy schedule (that you didn't really know anything about) she started to become grateful for you.

Your parents welcomed her kindly each time she came over to study and whenever she would leave she was happy with a full belly and a sore face from smiling and laughing with you all night. The project was supposed to be done by the end of the semester but you and gwen were able to finish it the first month you got it. That didn't stop her bi-weekly visits, that then turned weekly, until she was suddenly walking home with you everyday, from and to school.

She likes to compare hands, shoes, and height just to see the difference in sizes. On walks back from school she'll give you a piggyback ride if you ask nicely. She also likes laying her head in your lap, if you run your fingers through her hair she'd be fast-asleep within 5 minutes.

You and her tend to share your oversized clothes together, You always wash her jackets/sweaters after you wear them, which she absolutely loves. She's fallen asleep curled up in your hoodie, inhaling the scent and listening to whatever song you rambled about the previous morning on repeat until she finally asks you to just make her a playlist. Hobie definitely knows about you, only because she slipped up by saying too much.

She enjoys staying over your house during rainy days. She tends to tense up whenever you're watching tv together on your bed and your head falls on her shoulder. During missions in other spider-verses gwen has taken little souvenirs from different worlds and given them to you, she always does it in a nonchalant way as if she wasn't grinning ear to ear on her way back, excited to see how you'd react.

You don't have sleepovers often but when you do they always seem more intimate than your usual hangouts. When you wake up and see gwen flustered on the other side of the bed you never understand why, not knowing that when you were fast asleep she woke up cuddled into you, nuzzling her body into yours.

"I-uhm. I-uh just had a weird dream. Nothing to worry about, heh.."

☆ . . . pavitr prabhakar

It's very obvious he has a crush on you, it might as well be written on his forehead. He follows you around like a lost puppy. He's constantly offering to carry your books, opening doors for you, paying for your snacks, and even giving you hand massages when you've been writing an essay for too long. He's just completely whipped for you and you're not even dating (yet).

You were a transfer student and he was assigned to show you around Mumbai. He found himself getting giddy at your cute reactions to the different sights he took you to. He adored how you were filled with so much curiosity and wonder, the awestruck look in your eyes when you saw the pretty lights at night and just how genuinely excited you seemed to stay and explore Mumbai. Since then, he's been glued to your side.

He's such a gentleman, you can tell he was raised right. Whenever you're talking his full attention is on you, nobody else matters in this moment but you. He'll even get a bit upset if someone cuts you off, ignoring whatever they're saying and urging you to continue. His legs feel wobbly around you, he gets dizzy at the sight of you, and he feels like he's floating whenever you smile at him.

There have been multiple occasions where you've caught him staring at you, depending on how he feels that day he'll either smirk and gently wave or quickly turn away with a blush on his face. He gushes about you to Hobie and Miles all of the time. They know so much about you and they've never even met you.

A true romantic. He buys you a singular flower one week out of the day, always explaining the meaning and where they originate from. (all of them are a variation of romance/love)

He tends to lean into you whenever you speak. More than one person has pointed out that you both tend to mirror each other's actions. He's feigning for your touch more than anything, a simple brush of your shoulders and he's full on putty in your hands.

He won't outright confront you when he figures out you like him, instead he'll invite you on a nightly walk. Taking you up to a rooftop with a gorgeous view, and gently resting his jacket on your shoulders. You'll sit for a while enjoying the scenery before he turns to you and says...

"a person as beautiful as yourself shouldn't wander this world alone.."

☆ . . . hobie brown

What a nightmare. He is constantly teasing and flirting with you. Always doubling over in laughter when he sees you get all flustered and the words you so badly wanna spew at him get stuck in your throat.

I imagine you both to be spider-people, you're a little more stuck-up than he is which is why he likes to tease you so much. Little by little your reactions fueled something deeper in him. He no-longer found himself flirting with you because he liked seeing how aggravated he could get you but because that was his way of approaching you and saying all of the things he wanted to while being able to play it off as a joke.

Besides teasing you relentlessly, he can be really caring and attentive to you when he wants to be. If you're in the medic he'll stop by pretty often to make sure you're okay. The only reason you found out is because you woke up to him fast asleep next to your bedside, feet propped on your bed and his vest laid across his torso like a blanket.

He'll eat the foods on your plate that you don't like. If you fall asleep he'll lay his vest onto your body and even move your position if it looks uncomfortable. If he senses danger before you he'll move you of the way as fast as he possibly can, but if he's not close enough he'll give you a heads up before anyone else. He tends to stare at you sometimes, always smiling gently to himself.

When you two get closer as friends he'll play any song on his guitar if you ask him nicely. He'll even give you lessons if you really want them. Carefully throwing his guitar over your torso, he brings his much larger hands to yours. You can feel his chest against your back, and the waves of his warm breath on your neck as he teaches you how to play. He'll also let you wear his jacket, saying it looks better on you than him. He might let you keep it, only in exchange for one of your jackets. (he sleeps with your jacket on, it makes him feel close to you.)

Hobie often checks up on you during missions, sometimes saying teasing phrases to get you riled up but mostly to make sure you're holding up okay. "you alright there, peaches? you took quite the hit."

Once he finds out you like him, he eases up on the teasing, but he doesn't refrain from dropping subtle hints of his knowingness that you like him. He's just waiting for you to finally say something.

"Yknow, if i ain't know any better i'd say you were doing this 'cause you like me."

☆ . . . miguel o' hara

You worked beside him in Alchemax, the two of you were assigned as partners. At first he didn't care much for you, simply telling you to stay out of his way and that he didn't need any help, but after Lyla practically forced him to be a cordial lab partner and work with you, he started to take a liking towards you. Sadly, it took months for him to tolerate you and even longer for him to like you.

Although he was quite stuck-up and practically seemed on edge most of the time, you were able to break through those confined walls and have a comfortable-playful work relationship with him. Every-time you made a joke or a light quip about his attitude he'd always respond with sarcasm, still not being able to hide the tiny smile that graced his face at your foolish acts.

He always runs his projects by you before submitting them. (and then lyla to triple check) He'll stop by and pick up empanadas from his favorite store, always boasting about how it's the best in Nueva York and you'll never taste anything better. Eventually he brings in a hefty share of empanadas that you two share over lunch time, your conversation flowing naturally without the teasing but with a fluffier feeling flowing through the air.

He pretends to be annoyed when he catches you over-working but he's genuinely worried for you. Always shaking his head in a disapproving way when he finds you fast asleep on your desk, papers scattered, and drool falling past your lips. Quietly scolding you in spanish before throwing his lab coat over your shoulders and organizing your papers neatly.

He tends to act unbothered when you do something that shows you care for him but in reality it makes his heart stutter and his stomach feel all loopy. He hates it because it makes him feel like a middle-schooler when they get their first crush but another part of him absolutely adores it and his main motivation to get up to go to work in the morning is you, although he'll never admit it.

If a co-worker is ever rude to you he will be the first to defend you, not hesitating to get in their face with a nasty scowl painting his features. On Friday's he made it his personal mission to walk you home, you two slowly walk side-by-side, quietly laughing to yourselves as you reminisce on lab accidents and old memories. There's a slight gleam in his eyes when you make it to your apartment door. He turns to you almost hesitantly, before stepping closer to you. He whispers a question, so quiet and soft you almost wouldn't be able to hear it.

"Can I kiss you?"

omg i hope you guys liked it! requests are still open btw and thank you for reading! <3

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33

#miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #pavitr x reader #miles morales x reader #atsv gwen #gwen x reader #hobie brown x reader #atsv headcanons #spiderverse imagine #across the spider verse x reader #spiderman atsv imagines #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse headcanons #pavitr prabhakar x reader #miles morales headcanons #atsv x reader #atsv fluff #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader

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tokkiwrites · 1 month ago

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𝚄𝚗𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚢 𝚂𝚔𝚒𝚗.

mom's fiancé/bf! joel miller x f! reader • part two • part three

Summary: Your mom's new fiancé, Joel Miller, is the kind of man you could never shake out of your mind—rugged, rough, and embodiment of your long-buried fantasies. He's been your next-door neighbor for years, and the crush you harbored through your teenage years never really faded. Now, he's with your mom, and they're planning to get married. You should want her to be happy, but you can't ignore the tension growing between you and Joel. It's something that was never meant to happen. But as you uncover Joel's true motives for being with your mom, you realize maybe your feelings weren't one-sided after all. And maybe, despite everything, you’re the one he really wants.

tags: stepcest kind of, age gap (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 40s), forbidden romance, emotional conflict, slow burn, sexual tension, complicated family dynamics, heartbreak, Joel being an emotionally complicated bastard, ANGST, cheating, infidelity, nsfw, p in v unprotected, breeding kink.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ me writing angst?? wow could never imagine it. i hope you guys like this i dunno what came over me. almost 7k (oops) words of hurt confusion and a filthy finish to dry your tears. not proofread!!

The house smelled like home, like it always had. Fresh cut grass from the lawn, the faint scent of laundry detergent, and the crisp autumn air breezing in through the windows. But the warmth that had once filled it felt absent now, replaced by the coolness of change. A change you hadn’t been able to brace for. Your mother had finally met someone after years of being alone, and that someone was Joel Miller.

You sat at the kitchen table, your fingers trailing the edge of your mug, staring at the steam rising from your coffee. The engagement ring on her finger glinted as she poured a second cup of coffee, smiling to herself. You couldn’t take your eyes off it—the gold band, the small, delicate stone. Joel had chosen it.

"Can you believe it?" she said, laughing lightly. "I didn’t think I’d find someone after your father. But Joel... he’s good to me."

You swallowed hard. "Yeah, Mom. I can tell."

You knew he was good to her. You saw it every time they were together. The way he would brush his hand over her back when he passed her, the way he’d laugh at her jokes. The way she looked at him, like he was everything she had wanted but had never thought to ask for.

But that wasn’t what twisted the knife in your chest.

Joel had always been more than just a neighbor. You’d been only nineteen when you started noticing him, the way a girl starts to notice a man—how his shoulders would flex when he lifted something heavy, the rasp in his voice when he spoke to you, low and careful. He was rough around the edges, with that Southern drawl and hands scarred from years of work. A part of you had always wondered what those hands would feel like on you, against your skin, but you never let the thoughts go far. He was older, after all, and back then, it had been nothing more than an innocent crush. But now he was here, in your life in a way you hadn’t imagined, not as some distant neighbor or a fleeting thought, but your mother’s fiancé. The reality of it made your stomach churn, and you hated yourself for the way your heart still skipped a beat whenever he came around.

"I’m glad you like him," your mom continued, her voice pulling you out of your thoughts. She took a seat across from you, her eyes soft with affection. "I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about this, but... it means a lot to me that you’re okay with it." You forced a smile, the tightness in your chest growing. "Of course. I just want you to be happy." She reached out and touched your hand. "I am."

You wished you could say the same.

The days stretched into weeks, each one bringing you closer to the wedding. The house buzzed with preparations, your mother caught up in a whirlwind of joy and excitement. You tried to blend into the background, to stay out of the way, but it was impossible. Every time you turned around, Joel was there, a steady, looming presence.

One afternoon, you found yourself out in the yard, helping your mom plant some new flowers along the fence. The sun was high in the sky, the heat beating down on your skin. You wiped the sweat from your forehead, focusing on digging the next hole. "Need some help?" Joel’s voice came from behind you, making you jump. You turned, finding him standing there with a shovel in hand, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips. He was wearing a faded flannel, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the sinewy muscles of his forearms. His hair was streaked with gray at the temples, his face lined with years of hard work and sun exposure, but he was still undeniably handsome. Too handsome.

"No, we’re good here," you replied, keeping your voice steady as you turned back to the soil. Your mom looked up from her spot, grinning. "Actually, Joel, I think we could use a little extra muscle." He chuckled and came over, kneeling beside you, close enough that you could smell the scent of earth and sweat on him. His presence was overpowering, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep your mind from drifting.

"So," he said casually, his voice low as he worked beside you, "you’ve been quiet lately. Everything alright?" You felt his gaze on you, but you didn’t look up. "Yeah, 'm just busy."

"Busy, huh?" He tossed a clump of dirt aside, his tone teasing but not unkind. "You don’t strike me as the busy type." You shrugged. "Things change." Joel paused, his fingers still in the dirt. "That they do." There was a weight to his words, the way he said it, something that settled deep in your bones, like he knew what was deep beneath your facade. You risked a glance at him, and when your eyes met, the air around you seemed to thicken. His gaze was too intense, too knowing, and it made your heart pound in your chest. "Joel, could you help me with these pots in the back?" your mother called, oblivious to the tension that had been steadily growing between you and him.

Joel blinked, breaking the moment. He stood up, brushing the dirt off his hands. "Yeah, sure thing." As he walked away, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You couldn’t keep going like this.

Temptation lurks.

The engagement party was held at your house, the backyard filled with neighbors, friends, and family. You had helped set everything up, stringing lights across the trees, setting up tables with white linen. Your mother had been glowing all day, her happiness contagious to everyone but you.

You were standing near the bar, sipping on a drink when you saw him. Joel was talking to your uncle by the grill, his hand resting casually on the back of your mother’s chair. You watched as he laughed at something your uncle said, the sound of it rumbling low in his chest. He looked so at ease, so comfortable in this life he had built with your mom. But there was a crack in the facade, something that only you could see. The way his eyes flickered to you, even when he was mid-conversation. The way his smile faltered just for a moment when your gaze met his.

he feels it.

"You look lost in thought." You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice. Joel was beside you now, his presence like a shadow that followed you everywhere. You forced a smile. "Just thinking." He leaned in a little closer, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "Care to share?" You shook your head, setting your glass down on the bar. "It’s nothing."

Joel’s hand brushed yours as he reached for his own drink, the touch so brief and fleeting, but it sent a jolt of electricity up your arm. He must have felt it too because he hesitated for a moment, his fingers lingering a second too long before he pulled away. "You seem different, sweetheart." he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he was trying to figure you out. sweetheart. it sounded so natural, meant just for you. "Not like yourself." He continues. You swallowed hard, avoiding his gaze. "Maybe I’ve changed. Or maybe you don't know me that well."

"Maybe," he said, his voice quieter now, more serious. "But I think I know you better than that." Before you could respond, your mother appeared, smiling brightly as she slipped her arm around Joel’s waist. "There you are!" she said, looking between the two of you. "I was wondering where you disappeared to."

Joel’s eyes never left yours. "Just catching up."

You excused yourself quickly, retreating inside the house, your chest tight with frustration and confusion. You needed air, space, anything to clear your head. But no matter how far you ran, you couldn’t escape the way Joel made you feel. The way you wanted to feel, despite everything.

everything beneath the surface.

The weeks leading up to the wedding were a blur. You kept your distance from Joel as much as you could, but it was impossible to avoid him completely. Every time you saw him, the tension between you grew stronger, pulling you in even when you wanted to push it all away. One evening, after a particularly long day of wedding planning, you found yourself alone on the back porch. The sky was dark, the stars hidden behind thick clouds. You sipped your drink slowly, trying to let the cool night air calm your nerves.

"You okay?"

You turned to find Joel standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable. You hadn’t even heard him come out. You straightened up, trying to keep your voice steady. "I’m fine. Just needed some air." Joel stepped onto the porch, the floorboards creaking under his weight. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, his hands in his pockets as he looked out into the yard. The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. "You’ve been avoidin’ me," he said quietly, his voice low and rough in the quiet night. Your stomach twisted, but you didn’t deny it. "It’s not like that."

"Then what’s it like?" You sighed, setting your drink down and standing up, needing to put some space between you. "Joel, this... it’s complicated. I can’t—"

"Complicated," he repeated, his tone tinged with frustration. He stepped closer, his dark eyes locking onto yours. "It wasn’t complicated before, was it?"

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. His words hit you like a punch to the gut because they were true. It hadn’t always been complicated. Before your mother, before the engagement, there had been something between you and Joel that had lingered, unspoken, for years. Maybe it had been innocent at first, just a crush you’d had on the older man next door. But it had evolved into something else—something dangerous.

"Joel," you whispered, shaking your head, trying to regain control of the conversation, but he was already too close. His presence overwhelmed you, drowning out the rational part of your brain that screamed for you to walk away.

"You feel it too, don’t you?" His voice was almost a whisper now, and the way his eyes bore into yours made it impossible to look away. "I’ve seen the way you look at me, baby." You swallowed hard, your pulse pounding in your ears. "This isn’t fair," you managed, your voice breaking. "You’re marrying my mom, Joel." He winced, as if the words had physically hurt him, but he didn’t back away. "I know," he said, his voice tight. "I know I shouldn’t feel this way. Goddamn it, I tried not to. But I can’t help it, baby, Iㅡ" You took a step back, trying to create some distance, but Joel followed, his gaze never leaving yours. His hand reached out, brushing your arm, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "Don’t—"

"I’m sorry," he murmured, his hand dropping, but his eyes were still fixed on you. "I didn’t mean for this to happen. Should've been ya."

"Then why did it happen?" you asked, your voice breaking with the weight of the question. "Why are you doing this, Joel? Why are you marrying her?" He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "It’s not what you think."

"Then tell me," you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. "Tell me why you’re with her when—"

"When I want you," Joel finished for you, the rawness in his voice making your heart ache. The admission hung between you, heavy and undeniable. You wanted to pretend you hadn’t heard it, that it didn’t mean anything, but it did. It meant everything.

Your breath hitched as you stared up at him, the world tilting on its axis. You felt the pull between you, that magnetic force that had always been there, but now it was more dangerous than ever. It wasn’t just some unspoken tension anymore. It was real, out in the open, threatening to tear everything apart. "Joel, this isn’t right," you said, your voice trembling, even though your heart screamed at you to move closer to him. "It can’t happen. Not like this."

"I know," he said, stepping closer, his voice barely a rasp. His hand reached for yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "But that doesn’t change how I feel." You pulled your hand away, the loss of contact almost painful. "You have to stop," you whispered, your throat tight. "You have to marry her. You can’t do this to her." The agony in his eyes was unbearable. "You think I don’t know that?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your pulse racing. "Then why are you doing this?"

Joel’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked away, like he couldn’t bear to face the truth. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost broken. "I thought I could love her the way she deserves. I thought... if I just tried hard enough, I could make it work." Your heart ached for him, for your mother, for yourself. "But you don’t, do you?"

His silence was answer enough.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay strong. "You need to go through with the wedding, Joel. My mom... she loves you. She’s happy."

"I know," he murmured, the weight of his guilt evident in his voice. "But what about you? What do you want?" The question hung in the air, suffocating you. What did you want? You wanted him, but not like this. Not in a way that would destroy everything around you. Not in a way that would hurt your mother, who had already been through enough pain. "I want my mom to be happy," you said finally, even though the words felt like they were tearing you apart. "That’s all." even if it was a lie.

Joel stared at you, his expression unreadable, before he finally nodded. "Yeah," he said softly. "Me too." He stepped back then, creating the distance you desperately needed. "I’ll do the right thing," he said, his voice low and resolute. "For her." he wouldn't believe himself either.

You nodded, unable to trust your voice to say anything else. The weight of the moment settled over you both, heavy and oppressive. Without another word, Joel turned and walked back into the house, leaving you standing alone on the porch, your heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

It was all ready to collapse.

The wedding day approached faster than you had anticipated, each moment feeling like a countdown to an inevitable disaster. You tried to bury your feelings, to focus on helping your mom with the final touches, but the weight of what had been left unspoken between you and Joel hung over everything. You hadn’t spoken to him since that night on the porch, and the tension gnawed at you.

The morning of the wedding was bright and warm, the sun filtering through the lace curtains in your bedroom. You stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the soft fabric of your bridesmaid’s dress, trying to shake the growing sense of dread that settled in your chest.

You wanted to be happy for your mom—she looked radiant, glowing in her wedding dress, and she deserved this moment. She deserved love, peace, after the years of struggle she’d endured. But underneath your forced smiles and quiet congratulations, you couldn’t stop thinking about Joel. About his eyes when he looked at you, about the unspoken words still hanging between you.

Downstairs, the house sung with excitement, guests gathering for the ceremony. You could hear the faint sounds of laughter and music, the clinking of glasses as the day unfolded. But it all felt so distant, like you were watching it from the outside, detached from the joy that filled the air.

Just as you were about to head downstairs, there was a soft knock at your door.

You froze, your heart leaping into your throat. You already knew who it was before you even opened the door. Joel stood there, looking as conflicted as you felt. He was dressed in a suit, but the usually rugged man looked uncomfortable in the formal attire. His hair was neatly combed, but there was still that familiar edge to him—rough, worn, and undeniably Joel.

He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you, his dark eyes clouded with something you couldn’t quite name. "You look beautiful."

"You shouldn’t be here," you whispered, your voice shaky. "I know," he said, his voice low. "But I had to see you. Before—"

"Before what?" you interrupted, your hands trembling. "Before you marry my mom?" Joel’s jaw tightened, and he took a step closer. "I’m sorry," he said, his voice barely audible. "For all of this. For... for everything I’ve put you through." Tears pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. "You have to go through with it, Joel. You promised her."

"I know," he murmured, his gaze dropping to the floor. "But I can’t stop thinking about you." The rawness in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, but you forced yourself to stay strong. "You don’t get to do this now," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "Not today." Joel’s hand reached for yours, but you pulled away, stepping back. "Don’t," you warned. "Please don’t make this harder than it already is." He stared at you for a long moment, his eyes filled with regret, before he finally nodded. "I’m sorry," he said again, his voice breaking. "I’ll... I’ll go."

You watched as he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hall, each one like a nail in the coffin of what could have been.

Unbeneath.

The wedding was beautiful. The flowers were perfect, the music soft and sweet, and your mother’s face glowed with happiness as she walked down the aisle. Joel stood at the altar, looking handsome and calm, the picture of a man ready to commit to a life with her.

But you saw the cracks beneath the surface. You saw the tension in Joel’s shoulders, the way his jaw clenched as your mother approached him with a radiant smile. You knew he was trying to hold it together, trying to play the part of the perfect groom. But deep down, you could see it—he wasn’t entirely there.

Standing as a bridesmaid near the altar, you forced yourself to smile, to focus on your mother’s joy. But it was like watching a car crash in slow motion. The weight of what Joel had said to you that morning still clung to you, heavy and suffocating. As the officiant began to speak, your heart pounded in your chest. The words felt hollow, echoing in your mind. The vows of eternal love, of commitment, of being faithful—it all felt like a lie. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to stay focused, trying to hold on for your mother’s sake.

But then Joel glanced at you.

It was brief—just a flicker of his eyes in your direction, but it was enough to make your breath catch. His gaze was filled with conflict, guilt, and something else you couldn’t name. And in that moment, you knew—he was thinking about you. Even here, even now, when he was supposed to be pledging his life to your mother.

Time seemed to slow as the officiant asked Joel to recite his vows. He hesitated for just a second too long, the pause so subtle that no one else seemed to notice. But you did. You could see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between doing what was right and doing what he wanted.

"I, Joel, take you—" His voice caught, barely noticeable, but you saw it. He cleared his throat, trying again. "I take you, to be my wife."

Each word felt like a stone dropping into a bottomless well.

Your mother smiled at him, tears of joy in her eyes. She was completely unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface. She believed in this moment, believed in the future they were about to share. And you hated that you couldn’t give her that same belief, that you couldn’t share in her happiness.

When the ceremony ended and the guests erupted in applause, you clapped along with them, your hands numb and mechanical. The celebration carried on around you—people laughing, clinking glasses, congratulating the happy couple—but you felt like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, the ground crumbling beneath you.

At the reception, you stayed at the far end of the garden, away from the crowd. The string lights twinkled above, casting a soft glow on the scene, but the beauty of it all felt distant, unreachable. You sipped your champagne, staring blankly at the dance floor where Joel and your mother swayed together. They looked perfect, like a picture from a magazine. But you knew better.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Joel came up beside you, his presence like a storm cloud looming on the horizon. His tie was loosened, the top button of his shirt undone, and there was a weariness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

"You disappeared on me," he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the music and chatter. You didn’t look at him, keeping your eyes on the dance floor. "Just needed a moment." He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I didn’t mean for things to get this way. Please believe me, I didn’t knowㅡ didn't know she'd fall." You finally turned to face him, the rawness of his words cutting into you. "Well, they are and she did so.."

Joel looked at you with an intensity that made your heart ache, the same look he’d had earlier that morning. "I can’t stop thinking about you, baby." he repeated softly, his voice rough with emotion. "Even now. Especially now."

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. "You need to stop," you whispered, your voice trembling. "You made your choice. You married her. I don't even know what your plan was."

"I know," he said, his voice tight with frustration. "I know what I did, but that doesn’t change what I feel. It doesn’t change this." He gestured between the two of you, his eyes pleading. "I never wanted to hurt you, or your mom. But... I can’t pretend anymore. Not with you." Your chest tightened, the pain almost unbearable. "You have to pretend, Joel. You have to. For her." He stared at you, his expression torn between guilt and desire. "And what about you? What about us?"

"There is no us, Joel. Never was." You said the words like poison in your mouth. "There can’t be." Joel’s hand reached out, his fingers brushing your arm, and the familiar spark shot through you, the one you’d tried so hard to ignore. His touch lingered for a moment before he pulled away, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"You’re right," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "There can’t be." But the words felt like a lie the moment they left his lips because despite everything, despite the weight of his new vows, you saw him lean in closer. His breath mingled with yours, and his eyes-filled with guilt, longing, and desperation bore into you. His lips inched toward yours, the world around you fading into a blur of muted colors and distant laughter. People were far enough to not see you, but that didn't make it any easier. Your heart pounded, your breath shaky as you felt the warmth of his body close to yours. You knew this was wrong, that you should push him away, but your body betrayed you. The yearning, the suppressed need that had lingered between you for years, finally pushed through the cracks.

With one last glance into your glassy eyes, as if seeking permission-or maybe forgivenessㅡ Joel closed the distance.

His lips intertwined with yours, soft and rough at the same time, filled with everything that had been left unsaid. You froze for a moment, the shock of it crashing through you like a tidal wave. But then something snapped inside you, and you kissed him back. All of the restraint, the pain, the buried feelings surged to the surface, spilling into that one kiss.

His hands cupped your face gently, his touch tender despite the intensity of the moment. The world around you ceased to exist. It was just you and Joel, a stolen moment in a sea of impossibilities. His lips moved against yours with a desperation that mirrored your own, as if both of you knew this would be the only time you'd have. As if the kiss had to say everything words couldn't

But then, just as quickly as it had begun, reality crashed back in. You broke away, gasping for air, your chest heaving. The warmth of his touch still lingered on your skin. Neither of you moved, neither of you spoke, and for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. Finally, Joel stepped back, his face hardening as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I’m sorry," he muttered, though you knew the apology wouldn’t fix anything.

You watched as he walked away, back to the party, back to your mother—the woman he had chosen. The woman he was supposed to love. Your heart broke all over again as you realized that no matter what you felt for him, no matter what he felt for you, it would never be enough to change the reality of the situation.

And so, you stood there, the cold night air brushing against your skin, watching as Joel rejoined the celebration. The sounds of laughter and music filled the garden, but all you could hear was the silence between you and the man you could never have.

Was one night really that important?

You stood there, alone in the shadows, the air growing colder around you. The question gnawed at you, refusing to let go. What harm could it do? One night. One moment where none of thisㅡ none of the guilt, the secrecy, or the heartbreak mattered. No one would know. No one had to.

Would it really hurt?

The thought was reckless, dangerous even, but it lingered, growing more persistent with each passing second. Your mind kept replaying the way Joel had kissed you, the heat and desperation in his touch, the wayyou had kissed him back without hesitation, as if your bodies knew what your hearts refused to admit. You hadn't wanted to stop. And he hadn't either.

Your breath quickened as you thought of him, standing there, so close you could still feel the faint echo of his warmth, his scent, the way he had made you feel as though the world had disappeared, as if nothing else mattered but the f you, in that moment.

No. You couldn't. You couldn't do this to your mother. You couldn't betray her like that, not even for one night, no matter how desperately you wanted him. But the longing was still there, a dark ache deep in your chest, making it harder and harder to ignore. You let out a quiet, shuddering breath and looked back toward the reception toward Joel, who was now standing by the bar, talking with a few guests. The smile he gave them was easy, practiced, but you could still see the shadows under his eyes. You could still see the guilt that gnawed at him from the inside.

What if nobody knew? What if this one mistake, this one selfish moment, stayed just between the two of you? What if you could find a way to make it work-just for one night, just to feel what it was like to truly have him without the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders?

You swallowed hard. you could still taste his kiss on your lips. You could still feel the burn of his fingertips against your skin.

But then, you remembered your mother's face. Her warmth. Her trust. She was so happy, so completely in love. The thought of betraying her, even just for a moment, tore you apart. Could you really live with that kind of guilt?

No.

Butㅡ

You closed your eyes and exhaled, trying to quiet the storm inside you, trying to remind yourself of what was right. This wasn't a fleeting desireㅡ it was a devastating disaster waiting to happen

And yet, your body ached with the need to be close to Joel again. The yearning, the intensity of that single kiss and one pathetic touch, it was too much to ignore. You had given in once, but you couldn't go down that path again.

You took a step away from the garden, retreating into the shadows. Maybe it was better this way. Maybe one night wasn't worth it. But then you heard his voice, low and familiar, cutting through the noise. He was closer than you expected.

"Hey."

You froze, your heart stuttering in your chest. You didn't need to turn around to know it was Joel. His voice was all too familiar now. He stepped into the shadows with you, the dim light casting sharp lines across his face, making him appear even more worn, more conflicted. "Iㅡ" He hesitated, his voice thick with emotion. "I shouldn't have kissed you earlier. I know I shouldn't have."

You didn't say anything. You couldn't. You didn’t regret it. You wish it never ended.

Joel's gaze softened, and he stepped closer, but you kept your distance. He seemed to notice the space between you, the invisible barrier that neither of you wanted to cross but couldn't help but feel. "I don't know what to do anymore," he said. "I just know I don't want to lose you." His words shattered what little resolve you had left.

And in that moment, everything that had been building between you, the unspoken, the impossibleㅡ became undeniable. It was wrong. It was selfish. But here he was, standing before you, asking you for something you both knew you could never truly have. And for a moment, it didn't matter that it was wrong

You let out a shaky breath, your voice barely a whisper. "One night," you murmured. "Just... one night."

Joel froze. His eyes searched yours, and for a second, it seemed as if he might say no. But then his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you toward him, his lips catching yours in a kiss that was deeper this time, hungry, urgent. There were no more words between you, just the frantic need to close the distance between your hearts, to feel something real, even if it was only for one night.

As his hands wrapped around you, pulling you closer, there was a fleeting moment of clarity,a brief flash of the consequences. But it was swallowed up by the heat of the kiss, the intoxicating feeling of finally giving in to the desire that had been burning between you for years,

It was wrong. It was a mistake

But as Joel's lips moved against yours again, you forgot about everything else. Joel’s hand slid to your wrist before you could pull away, a firm, steady grip that tugged you gently toward him, toward the quiet behind the chaos. The party’s laughter and chatter were left in the distance, fading as you followed him, the night air thick with tension.

"We should go to a room," he whispered, his voice hoarse and urgent, almost pleading. "The party still has a few more hours before it ends. Don't worry, baby. It'll all be okay. She won’t even notice we're gone." You looked at him, heart racing, mind reeling, torn between the gravity of his words and the electric heat still burning in your chest from the kiss. He was leading you, his hand wrapped around your wrist, guiding you through the garden, toward the back of the house where the guest rooms lay hidden behind thick foliage and shadows.

You followed, not because you were sure, but because the pull between you was undeniable. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, and maybe you didn’t want to. His pace quickened as he sensed your hesitation, his breath hitching, more desperate now, as though he needed you to understand. "We can’t keep doing this," he said, his tone a mix of anger and longing. "We can’t keep pretending like we don’t feel it. This—" he glanced back at you, "this is what we've been needing for so long."

You could barely catch your breath as you stepped into the hallway of the house, away from the party. The muffled noise of music and chatter was barely a memory now. The quiet was heavier, more intimate. And when you finally stopped, your back pressed against the closed door of a guest room, you both stood there in the dim room, hearts pounding like they were about to burst.

His hands were still on you, strong but gentle, but this time, they didn’t move to pull you in. Instead, he lingered, his fingers barely grazing the skin of your arms as though he was afraid of breaking something fragile—something that might never be repaired.

"Joel..." Your voice was soft, porcelain, and it trembled in the stillness of the room. "Please.." you can hear him mumble a soft 'fuck' before his lips crash onto the exposed skin on your neck, his hands roaming your body like he's been waiting to do this for a thousand years. he quickly manages to discard the jacket of his tuxedo and unzip the back of your dress, your hair that was neatly pulled up now down on your shoulders. "You're so beautiful, baby. Always have beenㅡ god, I was so stupid not doin' this earlier." Your mind reeled, cunt pulsimg. You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breath, trying to steady your pulse. the fire between you crackled and burned hotter, and for tonight, you gave into it.

"Joel, please, justㅡ touch me, please.." he nods his head. "fuck, yeah, okay. You sound so pretty when you're desperate." you shudder at his words, a soft moan slipping from your lips. " 'm gonna fuck you tonight 'n make up for all of the nights i didn't." that was a promise.

you were now almost fully naked, the only thing covering your body was a soft, laced, white set you had on. "Pretty girl." he begins to discard those items from you too, but removes only the bra, leaving the white panties on. you look up at him, his presence swallowing you whole. without words you reach our hands out, promptly placing them on the hem of his pants and starting to unbuckle the belt he had on. you fingers fumble from the tension, but you finally do it. you trail you fingers onto his abdomen, drawing small hearts before you hear him growl. he picks you up swiftly and throws you on the bed settled in the middle of the room. his pants come undone so he pulls them off fully. "Spread your legs, baby." you do, your pussy spilling over the lace that barely covered anything. his rough fingertips trace your clothed folds, making you look away. "Look at me. Look at me, tell me what you want."

"Want you, Joel.." he hums. he pulls the panties to the side, eyes fixed on the way your cunt glistened under the dim light. its not long before he gets on his knees between your legs. "sweet girl. been dyin' to know what's inside that pretty head of yours when you look at me like that." His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. "you know how much i had to hold back? wanted to ravage you, toㅡ" he trails "to destroy you. make you beg for me to stop..." joel leans down, his rough beard tickling your neck, drawing a soft moan from between your lips.

"Sure you want this, darlin?" Nipping at your bottom lip, he waits for your signal. "So sure." This is it, the moment you had only dreamed of. that's when his lips crashed against yours again, his mustache pricking your skin. you kissed back, hungry, so hungry like you've never felt before.

"want that pretty pussy wrapped around my cock." you whimper pathetically at his dirty words. dirty. dirty like his touch that left your skin tainted, dirty like how you know you'll feel after all of this is over.

but you like dirty. you love dirty.

joel pressed himself against you, his briefs now fully off. fuck, he was huge. his leaking tip was pressing against your folds. "so wet, baby. all this for me? c'mon, let me hear you say it."

" 's all for y-ou, Joel ㅡ" you choked back a moan, pushing yourself back onto his bulge. he laughs, tilting his head to the side slightly. be drags the pulsing tip up and down, up and down again and again, as if he didn't make you wait long enough for it. after he thinks its sufficient, he starts to push inside, causing you to bite onto your forearm and shut your eyes as tears welled up in them. "atta girlㅡ you can take it. you're a big girl, ain't ya?" he teased. "My little girl, takin' my cock so well."

by the time he was fully inside, you were a mess, tears stained your cheeks, drool at the corners of your mouth covered in smudged lipstick ㅡ you were in a dream for sure. joel moves, at first, slowly as to let you adjust. he's patient. praises trail onto you as he kisses little pecks on the small of your back. "That's it, darlin'. take it all." your body trembles from every breath and touch of his.

his pace picks up, skin hitting yours roughly, fingers tangled in your hair and his other palm flush against your belly. "feel me there, sweet girl?"

"I- yes, yes, please, p-please ㅡ " You were hanging on the mattress for dear life, your brain foggy. nothing made sense but this. Joel buried deep inside of you. he fucked you hard, and deep, your stomach churning at every hit. his calloused hands gripped tightly at you hips, his moves now more ragged.

"shitㅡ whish I married you, baby.." he says through grunts, palms still gripping your hips. "Wish it were you there in that dress. 'm sorryㅡ" you cry a little louder as you feel his dick twitch inside of you. "let me put a baby in you, sweet girl, we can run away andㅡ fuck, run away and be happy. have our own little family." your eyes roll to the back of your head. "Joel, Iㅡ"

"You'd want that? imma make you a mommaㅡ my pretty wife, god."

" 'm s-so close, Joel, please "

"I know, baby, I know. Y-You go ahead." With a few more snaps of his hips, you're both coming, bodies writhing, as his head falls upon your chest. For a long, heavy moment, the world outside the room seemed to vanish. All that was left was the two of you, in that silent little room.

Joel pulls out, making you moan. He watches intently as his seed drips out of you, licking his lips as a palm rubs your lower belly. He hopes it'll stick.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #stepdad!joel #joel miller angst

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lovelyney · 11 months ago

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⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯DATING THEM !! FONTAINE GUYS⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

CHARACTERS: freminet, lyney, neuvillette, wriothesley.

SCENT: headcanons

WARNINGS: mentions of nsfw on everyone’s but freminet’s.

FLORIST’S NOTE: wow !! took me long enough ☹️ im so sorry for the wait pookies. also how are we liking this new layout for these ?? ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯2023 !! #©LOVELYNEY

꒱₊˚ 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓 !! 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐁𝐓𝐒

𖠵𝟎𝟎: SWEET BABY BOY FREMINET I LOVE HIM SM.

𖠵𝟎𝟏: As we know, Freminet's quite shy; he doesn't have much experience with romance, but he tries his best !!

𖠵𝟎𝟐: He wouldn’t hear the end of it from Lyney when he first started crushing on you. . . He kept on asking and asking when he was going to confess.

𖠵𝟎𝟑: Doesn’t like going out very much, but if it’s at the expense of your happiness and being with you, he’ll try and push through.

𖠵𝟎𝟒: Bought you a handmade plush of Pers since you always like to cuddle the robotic one while he’s away.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: Loves whenever he sees you wearing his clothes. he’d probably give you his entire closet if he could.

𖠵𝟎𝟔: Has a bunch of pictures of you and him that he keeps hidden in his dressers.

keeps one on him for good luck !!

𖠵𝟎𝟕: I honestly can’t tell if he’d give you a pet name ?? It’d probably be something like “nestling,” “my love,” and “baby/bébé.” (/ Meaning he uses both the English and French ver.)

❝H—Hey bébé. . . If you aren't too busy, would-would you maybe want to accompany me to brother’s magic show tonight ?? I-I could really use your company and I know we haven't been a date in a while. . .❞

𖠵𝟎𝟖: Crafts you all kinds of trickets🫶🫶

𖠵𝟎𝟗: Brings you the prettiest stones and little things that he finds when he goes deep-diving.

𖠵𝟏𝟎: Lyney “adopted” you into the family the moment you and Fremi started dating.

𖠵𝟏𝟏: He cringes whenever Lyney calls him a nickname, but he melts when you do it.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: Isn’t a big fan of PDA (he’ll obvi hold your hand) but in the confines of his room, he’ll cling to you.

𖠵𝟏𝟑: Will sometimes get pouty when you’re cuddled up to Pers and not him.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: Doesn’t get jealous like at all, he’ll just get annoyed and nervous at most.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: Didn’t pay much attention to his appearance initially, but ever since you started lovingly thumbing, kissing, and counting his freckles, it’s become his favorite thing about himself.

𖠵𝟏𝟔: I can imagine him liking his hair played with.

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Silently protective over you, you know ?? Like he’ll squeeze your hand if he senses someone you’re around is dangerous or unnerving. Or if he wants to leave and doesn’t want interrupt your conversation.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: Strangely warm !! He isn’t sure why you enjoy hugging him so much, but never complains, hehe.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: Likes to be both the big and little spoon !! If a day comes where he’s just exceptionally tired, he’ll want to be the little spoon. But if he wants to feel like the bigger person or you need comforting, he’ll be the big spoon.

꒱₊˚ 𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐄𝐘 !! 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀

𖠵𝟎𝟎: I’M 1000% COMPLETELY NORMAL ABOUT THIS MAN, I PROMISE 🤐🤐🙏🙏

𖠵𝟎𝟏: Lyney, as we know him, is very incredibly playful and can be very charming !! He uses this to his advantage.

𖠵𝟎𝟐: Was obsessed with you before you started dating and is still obsessed with you now 😭

𖠵𝟎𝟑: The complete opposite of Freminet. He will not shut up about you to his siblings. . . (Sometimes he might mention you to “father.”)

𖠵𝟎𝟒: Wants nothing but for you to be safe and protected. (Bonus points if it’s in his arms.)

𖠵𝟎𝟓: Going back to the Knave, Lyney might share the relationship you two have with her but won’t give any explicit details about who you are as a means to protect you.

𖠵𝟎𝟔: “Darling,” “gorgeous,” “lovebug/bug,” “my (love)/mi (amour),” “my sweet,” and “sweetheart/chérie.”

❝Thank you so much for coming to today’s show, my love! It always fills me with so much energy seeing you in the seats, staring up at me. . . I ought to put together a show just for you, hm? How does this Friday sound?❞

𖠵𝟎𝟕: Loves to tease you !!

𖠵𝟎𝟖: Does not like waking up in the mornings, especially when you’re lying in bed with him.

loves to hide his face in your neck whenever he’s lying with you.

𖠵𝟎𝟗: Loves PDA. He cannot give a single fuck if you guys are in public. If anything, he’s proud to show his love for you to everyone.

𖠵𝟏𝟎: Can sometimes be unintentionally flirty with other people without realizing it. Don’t get it twisted, though; he’s incredibly loyal to you.

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Many people (of all genders) find him very charming, and as much as that might sting you, Lyney always finds a way to bring you into the conversation to dismiss their advances.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: Can be a little feisty sometimes. Examples are: biting your lower lip when he’s kissing you, biting your ear and nibbling on your neck in public, and placing his hand dangerously close to your thigh.

𖠵𝟏𝟑: Uses incredibly cheesy pickup lines and one-liners.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: If someone is continuously making advances towards you, then he’ll get jealous.

he’ll walk over to you, put a hand on your waist and act overly affectionate towards you hoping it’ll drive the person away.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: Seems innocent (enough), but if he sees you’re upset by someone’s actions, he’ll flip that fatui switch on immediately just to see you smile again.

sometimes asks Lynette and/or Freminet to comfort you while he’s taking care of the person.

𖠵𝟏𝟔: Surprises you by showing up in the most unexpected places in your house.

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Hates being away from you for long ): That’s the main reason why he hates arguments between you two.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: (↑) Although he lowkey can be petty sometimes. . .

𖠵𝟏𝟗: His hands are really soft !! Sometimes you’ll gently caress them, and he’ll literally melt on the spot.

𖠵𝟐𝟎: Also one who loves to see you in his clothes !! 𖠵𝟐𝟏: Really wants to have matching outfits with you. 🫶

𖠵𝟐𝟐: Loves whenever you dress yourself up !! He just adores seeing all sides of you.

𖠵𝟐𝟑: You have a whole bouquet of rainbow roses from the amount of times he’s randomly pulled one out and gave it to you. . .

꒱₊˚ 𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 !! 𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐉𝐔𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

𖠵𝟎𝟏: The most gentleman to ever gentleman, I believe ?!?!

idk man, it’s something with the dragon guys in Teyvat. . .

𖠵𝟎𝟐: I’d like to believe that when he started liking you, the Melusines caught on, because he seemed to always be lost in thought. . . 🤭

𖠵𝟎𝟑: Despite him being absolutely stunning and incredibly smart, he somehow felt like he didn’t have a chance with you. . .

the Melusines and Furina were not having any of that !! they devised a plan where she talked to you, and they talked to him. it all worked out in the end.

𖠵𝟎𝟒: Being in love with a busy man has its pros and cons, obviously; Neuvillette always tries his best to balance them out. ☹️☹️

𖠵𝟎𝟓: You guys tried to keep your relationship hidden for as long as you could with how Fontaine loves its drama. . .

and when you it got out (guess how), rumors, whispers everything spread like a wildfire. it was incredibly overwhelming for you, and he tried his best to quiet everyone down and comfort you 😞☹️ you can imagine the weather. . .

𖠵𝟎𝟔: (↑) Some people were muttering how you didn’t deserve him or weren’t “pretty enough” for him, which really pissed him off, but he had to remain civil (for the most part, lolz.)

𖠵𝟎𝟕: Your emotions have an incredible impact on him ?!?! If you start crying or if you’re sad, it’ll domino effect onto him. He loves you so much that it physically hurts him to see you distraught.

𖠵𝟎𝟖: All the Melusines adore you !! They absolutely see you as their other parental figure since you guys started dating.

𖠵𝟎𝟗: (↑) MELTS whenever he sees you interacting with kids. . .

𖠵𝟏𝟎: “Cherie/sweetheart,” “honey,” “my (dear/dearest)” and “my (love)/mi amour.”

❝I’m home, mon chéri. . . I must apologize for coming home later than usual—an issue in the case I’m looking into has presented itself and I went to personally deal with it. Hm, what was that, love? Ah, what was the ‘issue?’ Don’t worry about it, my dear. What matters is that it’s been dealt with. Now, have you had dinner yet?❞

𖠵𝟏𝟏: His trust in you runs pretty deep, so he trusts you when others are flirting with you. However, when people aren’t leaving you alone or are masking their interest behind innocent actions, he’ll get pissed.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: God forbid anyone lays their hands on you. . . Neuvillette doesn’t take people hurting you lightly at all.

𖠵𝟏𝟑: (↑) He isn’t a big fan of people touching what’s his in general, but he knows he (unfortunately) can’t have you all to himself. . .

𖠵𝟏𝟒: (↑) Safe to say, he’s quite territorial. . . He is a dragon, after all. They are quite protective over their treasure..

𖠵𝟏𝟓: Wrio likes to bring you up in conversations over tea !!

𖠵𝟏𝟔: This man has always been head over heels for you. Whenever you two are shopping together, he’ll follow you around like a puppy—always insisting that he holds your bags and pays.

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Pretty gentle with you. . . The farthest thing he wants is to hurt you, but sometimes his primal instincts kick in and he can’t help but want to mark what’s his !!

𖠵𝟏𝟖: Spoils the hell out of you. He literally can’t help it. He’ll see something that he’ll think you’ll like or something that reminds him of you and gets it without another thought.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: Really doesn’t like that you can tell his mood based of whether or not it’s raining. . . He hates worrying you.

𖠵𝟐𝟎: Furina loves to ask about you !! She thinks you two are so cute together.

𖠵𝟐𝟏: Loves whenever you visit him in his office while he’s working !! He’ll always try and persuade you to stay with him while he works—coaxing you to sit on his lap and such.

𖠵𝟐𝟐: He’s still relatively new to understanding human emotions, so he really appreciates you being patient and helping him out.

𖠵𝟐𝟑: Whenever you’re mad at him or giving the silent treatment, he’ll just look at you with the most saddest eyes ever. Guarantee heavy downfalls until you two make up 💔

꒱₊˚ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 !! 𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐘

𖠵𝟎𝟎: Literally the almost perfect definition of my type 😭

𖠵𝟎𝟏: He’s smart, cocky, and hot. You’re in for a wild ride with this one 💔👍

𖠵𝟎𝟐: Secretly a deep-rooted hopeless romantic at heart, he just hasn’t had the time to explore that part of him because of his duties in the fortress.

𖠵𝟎𝟑: Like Neuvillette, this man is head over heels for you. It’s just that he’s better at hiding it (most times, anyway.)

𖠵𝟎𝟒: A big teaser !! He loves to get under your skin.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: Can and will protect you at any cost. He loves you so much, it’d kill him inside if something were to happen to you.

𖠵𝟎𝟔: A bit of a sadist, I think. . . He’ll watch you struggle for a bit before actually helping you with something.

𖠵𝟎𝟕: Before you two started dating, Sigewinne kept on insisting he confess to you because of how obvious it was.

Clorinde also gave him shit for it.

𖠵𝟎𝟖: “Baby/babe,” “doll,” “my (darling),” “my (dear),” “my (love/lovely),” “pretty/my boy/girl,” and “sweetheart.”

❝Oh? I wasn’t expecting you to stop by for a visit today, doll—not that I’m complaining, of course. . . Lucky for you, I just finished up all my paperwork for the day, so I’m all yours ~ Wait, what? What do you mean you’re only here to deliver more papers? Please tell me you’re joking, babe. . . Archons sake, please at least stay for tea. I haven’t seen you since this morning.❞

𖠵𝟎𝟗: Roughly smells like freshly brewed tea with a mix of his cologne—it’s a rather comforting smell, actually.

𖠵𝟏𝟎: Hates whenever you’re gone too long above ground. He gets grouchy (more so than usual) whenever he hasn’t seen you for a certain amount of time.

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Surprisingly like a sloth when you two aren’t at work. . . He loves clings to you, doesn’t matter what you’re doing or where you’re at.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: I’d like to think he doesn’t give a shit about what people normally think of him, so he’ll love you on wherever and whenever.

loves to rub his cheeks/stubble against yours despite your whining !! i’m weak

𖠵𝟏𝟑: One of his favorite things about the two of you is your size difference. He finds it adorable his hand can comfortably envelope yours and somehow perfectly fit around your throat. . .

𖠵𝟏𝟒: A waist holder !! He loves to have a hand on your waist one way or another. Whether it be him pressed against you from behind or simply just a hand on your waist while you’re standing next to each other.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: Protective and possessive !! Not too much to the point where it’s toxic, I think. He’s just very territorial, and does not like when people get too close to you. He always denies he doesn’t get jealous, but he isn’t fooling anyone.

he doesn’t want your future to repeat his past, so he tries desperately to protect you from those kinds of people.

𖠵𝟏𝟔: (↑) All for marking you in obvious places if he sees this is a frequent thing. . . He’s far from shy with it, as well.

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Always prepares an extra cup of tea for you just in case you were to stop by his office.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: Nearly suffocates you if you’re in bed facing him—he’ll smoosh your head against his chest so you don’t have a chance to leave.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: People were genuinely shocked when they found he was dating someone !! Some didn’t believe you until Wrio proved them wrong.

𖠵𝟐𝟎: Is a mixture between gentle and rough with you. . . He doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you or you know, break you.

𖠵𝟐𝟏: He claims he’d be fine if you two broke up but in reality, he’d be a complete mess. (Sigewinne knows this without a doubt.)

𖠵𝟐𝟐: (↑) Pouts whenever you spend too much time with her and not enough with him </3 He can be a literal manbaby sometimes.

𖠵𝟐𝟑: Literally doesn’t know what to do with himself whenever you ignore him or give him the silent treatment.

goes to Clorinde for help if he’s really stuck. which may or may not be proven helpful depending on her mood. . .

𖠵𝟐𝟒: Adores whenever you’re resting on top his chest !! He always says that’s where you belong, lol.

𖠵𝟐𝟓: (↑) Also likes it when you rest on his lap when he’s sorting out paperwork. He claims you “give him the energy needed to make it through the day.”

𖠵𝟐𝟔: The one for you if you have a praise kink and the one for you if you have a degrading kink !! Two birds with one stone, amirite ?? kill me

#|✿| — 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍’𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 #|✿| — 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐁𝐎𝐖 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒 #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #genshin x reader #freminet x reader #lyney x reader #neuvillette x reader #wriothesley x reader

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irndad · 8 months ago

Text

here I lay me down - s.r.

a/n: ex!spencer gets shot, and you show up at the hospital to see if he's okay. spencer is still desperately in love with you. based on this post wc: 2.3k (she is LONG)

Spencer wakes to a cacophony of sounds, others breathing and various beeps and hums from a variety of medical machines. He hates the noise of the hospital, as he knows what always follows. It’s pain, and ever since he kicked dilaudid, he doesn’t get the relief that people are always pushing on him here.

The last thing Spencer remembers, he was in front of Morgan, who was about to get shot- it was a piercing memory, one that even the anesthetic wearing off slowly couldn’t numb. He’d jumped in front of it, and the pieces of Morgan pacing around his room and the whole being in a hospital thing click into place.

When he blinks his eyes open, he sees Hotch speaking to the doctor with his endearingly concerned eyebrow scrunch and it’s then that he notices a familiar scent in the air.

It’s perfume- he knows because he’d bought it- a mixture of jasmine and lilies, and the memory of the night he gave it to her bursts into technicolor when he closes his eyes. It had been her birthday, and he’d gone with Penelope and Emily to pick out a gift for her.

He remembers how she’d lit up, her warm doe eyes brightening with fondness that he’d earned, and the way his heart had flipped in his chest- the memory is in crisp detail. He remembers the way she’d kissed him, equal measure in thanks and in adoration, and it’s comforting to remember right now. He tries to think of her often, especially when waves of pain crash over him like an unruly ocean that threatens to drown him. There was someone who loved him at one point, he tries to remember.

He wants to compliment the nurse wearing it, but even as limited as his social skills are in this state, he knows that telling the nurse you like her perfume because your ex wore it is probably inappropriate.

A roar of desire presents itself in his chest- he has no desire to want her here, but Spencer can’t help but fantasize about her presence. Her nimble fingers running through his hair, her soft voice cooing at his injuries. It was always nice to come home to her after a rough day- her disposition warm and kind and good. It’s his fault he doesn’t have it- his fault that she doesn’t love him anymore.

It’s as if he conjured her, when she walks in the door.

He literally cannot believe that she is here, in his hospital room- he drinks in the sight of her like a man starved. She’s beautiful- he’d never forget this but it’s been so long since he’s seen her. The curve of her cheek, her cupid’s bow, the slope of her neck- the details he spent the best year of his life memorizing under careful touch.

Her body language is protective, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other at her mouth, her delicate fingers holding a tissue. Had she been crying?

Before he can think of what to say to her, she speaks to him.

“How are you feeling?”

He’d forgotten just how her voice sounded. Or rather, how it sounded when she was concerned for him. It’s addicting, hedonistic in the ways of wine and drugs and everything else you should have in moderation but had to give up. It’s just so comforting, her lovely doe eyes looking at him with warmth and concern.

“Hey,” he replies, not answering her question. He might be imagining her. They might have given him drugs. There’s no way she came and see him of her own volition.

She pauses for a moment, biting her lip in an incredibly endearing way (and god, he’d missed looking at her) before she makes the decision to walk over to the side of his bed. He tries to crane his neck to look at her and she scolds him, and this doesn’t make any sense.

“You got shot,” she says, voice warm and concerned, and if he squinted he could hear love in her voice.

“I’m okay,” he tries to reply.

“You got shot,” she says, eyes flaring with emotion. She always hated that he minimized his pain.

“You came,” he says, after a beat of silence. Her fingers are running through his hair and he tries to commit this to memory. It doesn’t mean she loves him. She’s the kind of person who stops on the street to give someone the last dollar in her wallet, of course she would visit her ex-boyfriend in the hospital after he got shot.

It doesn’t mean anything.

“Of course I came, Spence,” she says, intentionality in her tone, “You got hurt.”

It’s selfish to lean into her touch, but she smells like home and he doesn’t know if he will ever be held like this again by her. And he doesn’t care to be held by anyone else.

Hotch comes in, and if he’s surprised to see the two of them together, it doesn’t show on his face. He tells Spencer that the. Bullet had been clean through, and that he’d been lucky. He’d avoided internal bleeding and would need to stay at home for a week.

When Hotch leaves to ‘give him some space to process’, the silence lingers.

“Thank you for coming.”

It’s kind of worse, actually. The reality where she’s still his girlfriend is superimposed on top of this one, and he can feel the ghost of the kisses she’d pepper his cheeks with. If she still loved him, then she’d hug him and tell him that she loves him, tell him how angry she is for jumping in front of a stray bullet.

It’s my fault, he thinks to himself, eyes raking over her. She’d definitely been crying, he realizes. Her makeup had run and he think she might have slept here. How had he ever gotten someone like her to fall in love with him?

It’s his fault she doesn’t love him anymore.

When the doctor tells him that he needs someone to stay with him for the next few days, and she volunteers, he agrees.

It’s a nice kind of pain, he thinks. Any piece of her is more than he wants of anything else.

_______________________________________

It turns out that she is a wonderful caregiver.

Penelope had been incredibly supportive of this idea, somehow convinced that the proximity would bring them back together. This is a hope that Spencer does not engage in, but still- it’s nice to have her around.

She knows her way around his apartment- knows how he organizes her things. Half her things used to be there too.

Memory is a funny thing. The worst part by far of eidetic memory is the lack of forgetting, and up until now, this was best seen in the horrors of his work. Now, it’s all her.

Taking care of him when he got shot is not the same thing as loving him.

When she makes them dinner (which is so kind of her- he offered to buy takeout and she’d insisted on recreating his mother’s soup recipe. She’d kept a copy of it in her phone. Spencer had almost died of flattery), she sits next to him on his couch

It’s funny how the best memories of his life are so colored now- their trip to Europe, their first kiss, the first time he’d cooked her dinner and she’d watched Doctor Who with him. Ghosts of memory linger through the place, and it hurts to see her sit next to him on the couch with a foot between them.

“Thank you for being here,” he says after a beat of silence. She looks beautiful, and he always thinks this. She’s wearing his t-shirt which is just an awfully tempting view.

It’s his fault he can’t have what he wants.

“I told you I still wanted us to be friends,” she says, looking down at her bowl, “You’re my friend. I’m happy to do this.”

He can tell she means it as an olive branch but it cuts like a knife. Because he never wanted to be her friend. She was the first thing he even wanted enough to ask for it. He still remembers when he’d asked her out the first time, the stuttering and the way she’d looked, how impossible her liking him back had felt.

And then he’d managed to make her fall in love with him. It didn’t even take much- he just had to be himself, the way she says it, and he’d give anything to have that back.

“You’re a good friend,” he replies, instead of everything he’s thinking.

“Hotch thinks so,” she muses, not looking at him, “He was surprised I’d come here after you broke up with me.”

It’s a slight lash out, and it’s fair. It’s not fair that she’s here, wearing his fucking t-shirt, her collarbones exposed under the fabric. He know what her skin feels like under his lips, and now she make veiled comment on his couch.

“Why did you?”

He can’t figure it out. They’d broken up two months ago. He’d done it to protect her- after the anthrax case he’d been fucking fixated on her getting hurt. Because this is the stuff he can’t protect her from. Can’t help if biomedical hazards end up on his clothes, and if he comes home shot.

He got shot. He’s the kind of person who doesn’t get forever with the woman he loves, because he can’t keep her safe. Even if he quit just then- enough people have made an enemy of him. She’d never be safe.

So he made a choice to cut his ties and let her go, and yes, every fucking night since he’s had at least one nightmare about what she looks like crying and asking him to stay. He never, ever wanted to see her like that, but he also never ever wanted her to be a widow.

She’d find someone else. She’s so easy to love- he doesn’t like to think about someone else loving her, but he’s sure she won’t be alone.

His voice catches in his throat.

“It is nice of you,” Spencer chokes out, “I never wanted you to have to do that.”

“Let’s not talk about this now,” she says, getting up to get him another serving, and he grabs her wrist.

“Ba- Hey, please. Talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?” she says at him, but she doesn’t pull her wrist back.

“I just-“ he stammers, but it’s heavy and something he can’t give up, the combination of her gaze under his and her soft skin in his grasp, “I can’t have you here and hate me. I just can’t take you hating me. I know- I know what I did. I know it’s not fair to ask and I know that we’re not together and I know it’s my fault but god, you can’t hate me. I can’t take it.”

“You think I hate you?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“You think I came to the hospital in the middle of the night, slept in a waiting room, cooked you soup and slept on your couch because I hate you?”

He doesn’t know what to say. How could she still love him?

“It’s you,” he replies. “You’d always do that for me.”

She’s closer now, moving into his space more and more and he can smell his own body soap on her because she showered here, and he’s overcome with a desire to hold her.

“Why do you think that is?”

She’s almost in his lap now, and there’s a greed to this now, the way he pulls her a little bit closer. She tips her head back in a bitter, tinny laugh that he doesn’t like the sound of.

“I mean, Spencer- I love you so much that I don’t even care if you love me back.”

“You still love me?”

“I’m working on it,” she says, a bitter smile on her face, “You’re hard to get over.”

“Don’t get over me.”

It’s not the smoothest thing he could’ve sid, and he kind of regrets the implication on her face, sees her gorgeous features crumple.

“That’s mean, Spence.”

“No! No. Don’t. Don’t-don’t do that. Don’t move on with your life and find someone else because this is the lightest I’ve felt in fucking weeks.”

Her eyes widen into saucers, and her grip tightens on his hands, and Spencer feels like he could fly.

“I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have made you go and I should’ve let you be the person who picks me up at the hospital and I know, I know how lucky I am that you’re still here, that you cared enough. Please, please don’t get over me. I know it’s not far to ask.”

She blinks a few times at him before opening her arms for a hug, of which he flies into at breakneck speed. His ribs hurt but he’d forgotten what it was like to hold her. And yes, maybe wanting this makes himself selfish, but he wants this. Maybe this can the one thing he lets himself have.

“I do love you. ” he speaks into her collarbone, and she shushes him.

“No, no,” he says, looking up at her, her gorgeous doe eyes shaky with uncertainty he knows is his fault, “If you’ll still have me, I’d like to-I’d like to try again. And I know that you probably can’t trust me and I have so much to make up for and-“

“Spencer,” she says warmly, twining their fingers, “I’d like to kiss you now. Okay?”

He nods a bit fervently, shaking as he does, but when she kisses him-

It’s just as he remembers. She leans into him, her delicate fingers cupping his jaw and he wraps his spindles arms around the curve of her waist, pinning her to him like she might float away if untethered.

When Spencer gets back to the office, he it’s not just his wounds that have healed.

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

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nanaslutt · 1 year ago

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on my knees begging and praying for more perv! geto🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🛐🛐🛐

Some PervyRoomate!Geto (and 1 perv Satosugu) drabbles for you :3

contains: voyeurism, stealing, fantasizing, Gojo makes an appearance, degradation, p*ssy eating, cumming untouched, restraints, masturbating, handjobs, unprotected sex, slight somno, overall creep behavior... pls be warned

note: i do not condone any of this irl :3

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Perv!Geto who stands outside your door and jerks off to the sound of you getting your brains fucked out by your latest partner. If he closes his eyes and squeezed his fist hard enough he can almost imagine he’s the one fucking you. He’s timing his thrusts with the slaps he hears on the other side of the door to immerse himself deeper into his fantasy; and when you cum- he cums all over his hand while his other covers his mouth to prevent any moans from slipping through his lip.

Perv!Geto who steals your dirty panties, shirts, shorts--anything at all from your dirty clothes hamper and holds it up to his face to smell your scent while he jerks his cock furiously with his lip pulled between his teeth. You're just in the next room over, he can hear you giggling with Shoko at something funny she said, the sound spurring him on as he imagines you're laughing at him, at how pathetic he is for stealing your clothes to jerk off. Of course, when he cums he makes sure to make a mess all over the garment before he throws it back into your hamper. Maybe one day you would go searching through your dirty clothes and find the present he left for you and teach him a lesson for being such a perv.

Perv!Geto who sucks your fingers into his mouth while you ride him because he's been waiting for so long for this moment and he needs to taste you. Your neck, lips, thighs, hands- anything. He would gag and moan around your lithe fingers when they hit the back of his throat, jolting around in his mouth from the roughness of your thrusts on his too-sensitive cock.

Perv!Geto who sits on his knees with his hands tied behind his back, his heavy neglected cock and full balls hanging freely in the air as you grip his hair from his scalp and roughly shove his face into your cunt. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, his face flushed a gorgeous crimson color as you fuck his face while degrading him, telling him how filthy and dirty he is for being such a creep to his poor unknowing roommate (you). He would cum untouched with a pathetic whine into your cunt at your mean words, as he continued to suck and flick his tongue as he brought you to orgasm.

Perv!Geto & Gojo who FaceTime late at night to talk about all the filthy things they would do to you while they jerk off together. Sometimes when you aren't home they sneak into your room and jerk each other off on your bed, working each other up as they dirty talk each other about what you would do to them if you were here. "Yeah? You like the way they stroke your cock? Huh?" Gojo would groan as he twists his hand over Geto's tip while the dark-haired man has his eyes squeezed shut, pretending its your hand. "Yeah cum inside her Gojo fuck, she wants it so badd~" Geto would whisper as Gojo came all over your nice clean pillow. The two of them constantly plotted on how they would get you in their beds.

Perv!Geto who would sneak into your room at night and jerk off to your sleeping body only clad in tiny shorts that showed half your ass and a crop top that your breasts spilled out of. He never touched you, but he would get close, seeing how far he could test the limits before his cute roomie woke up to a face full of cum. He would jerk off right over your face, his heart racing out of his chest when you stirred in your sleep, the fright making him back up as he cums hard in his hand, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood as he tried to keep himself quiet.

Perv!Geto who would offer to stand behind you on the train while you wore a skimpy outfit so you didn't have to be pressed up against some olf perv. Little did you know he had the same intentions as them. He felt himself get hard as your ass bumped back agaisnt his crotch when the train ride got bumpy. He would pray for the time when you would lose your balance and almost fall so he could grab your waist in his massive hands to steady you. Your meek 'thank you Sugu' Going straight to his cock at how oblivious you were.

Perv!Geto who offered to sleep in your room to cuddle when your relationship ended. Who was he to leave you alone when you spilled the news to him with fat tears rolling down your cheeks, that made his cock twitch in his pants. He should feel bad about taking advantage of your vulnerable state right now, but how was he supposed to when your smaller frame was pressed right up against his body and his nostrils were filled with your scent from being smothered by your sheets? He wasn't able to stop himself from humping his hips into your ass when he felt your body relax agaisnt him, your breaths evening out as you slipped into dreamland while Geto used the friction of your soft ass to reach orgasm and cum hard in his pants.

Bonus: Perv!Geto who was more than happy to fuck you to back sleep when you awoke right when he released his load into his pants. Him getting off on you calling him needy while he fucked his next load into your cunt, not being able to stop himself from thinking how he wasted a perfectly good load in his boxers when he could've just woken you up and fucked it into your cunt as well :( How was he supposed to know you wanted him as much as he wanted you? You did break up with your boyfriend for him after all.

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chunghasweetie · 5 months ago

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Haiii i've never submitted a request so bare with me.

What do you think about a criminal jk who's been in prison for over a year (don't know what crime u can pick honestly) him and y/n are in a established relationship and she's been waiting all this time for him to get out. Anyway he comes home and yk.. i'm sure you can get the rest ;)

𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐘 | J.JK

— pairing | fem!oc x criminal!jjk

— summary | (sorry it took so long!🩷) jungkook’s been locked up for 4 years and he’s finally back to see you !

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

unprotected sex, cursing, praising, daddy kink, dirty talk, crying, fluff(?)

— word count | 3.5k words

— song suggestion | wrong in the right way — chris brown

It was his first night freed from his 4 year jail sentence. After having a buddy drop off his car on the way to her, he was finally there.

Locked up for assault and battery and countless other charges he was finally free and finally able to see his woman again.

His tatted, muscular body stood at her doorstep, “Fuck,” He exhaled, taking a drag from his cigarette.

He was anxious to see her after endless phone calls and letters for years. He surprised her a day early. He finally stopped thinking about it and knocked at her door.

“Coming!” She hurried down the stairs, not expecting any guests at that hour.

She was in her pajama outfit, hair lightly curled and her face bare beside some eye brightener.

She opened the door, and she had almost gone into shock.

She came to a full body pause, color practically draining from her face when she seen him. “J-Jungkook!”

Jungkook's eyes softened at the sight of her, seeing the tears. He stepped forward, grabbing her in a tight embrace.

“I missed you so fucking much Y/n.” He mumbled into her hair. His hands ran up and down her back, holding her close.

She sobbed, “You bastard! Why didn’t you let me know you got out early?! I would’ve picked you up, done my makeup better, took you to dinner—“ She rambled.

Jungkook pulled back, gazing down at her with a smirk.

“Because I wanted to surprise you, Y/n. And you look fucking perfect just like this.” He ran his hand through her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. “Finally face to face with my queen.”

“Fucking come in.” She sniffed. “All standing here in my doorway.” She hurried him in.

Jungkook stepped inside, his eyes scanning the apartment.

It looked a lot different than what he had remembered. It was a lot more modern and a bit girly. But it still felt like home.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume. He followed her to the living room, his eyes locked on her as she walked away from him. He couldn't help but grin.

He was finally home.

“Missed you so much” She sniffed. “I didn’t fucking plan anything— Shit. You gotta be hungry right? Are you cold?”

“Relax baby. I didn’t expect you to be completely ready tonight,” He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her close to him.

“But yes, I am fucking starving. Even thought I just wanna sit here and hold you.” He nuzzled his face into her neck, breathing in her scent.

“No baby— Gotta take care of you first. Probably want to eat good. Prison must’ve been so rough.” She pouted, babying him.

“Yeah, it was. But nothing's worse than being away from you, ma. You know that, right?” He pulled away from her, turning her around to face him.

He cupped her cheeks, his thumbs rubbing against her soft skin. “I missed your smile, your laugh, your attitude. Everything Y/n.”

“I missed you more than you could imagine Jungkook.” Her lip quivered. “So much.”

“I know, ma. You always made sure I know. You were always the one person I could count on, even behind bars.” He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers.

The kiss was soft and gentle, but it held a depth of passion that only they could understood. “I love you.”

“I love you more. So much more.” She kissed him back, “I’ll cook for you. I’ll show you to our room— I fixed it up for you!”

She led him upstairs, rushing him due to her excitement. “Are you ready to see it?”

“I'm more than ready, ma. I've been dreaming of this moment for so long. I've missed our bed, our room, all of it."

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "You look stunning, ma. You've never looked more beautiful to me."

Their room looked more homey and relaxing. She bought him a whole new closet full of clothes and shoes to his liking.

“I bought you some new ashtrays to put on your nightstand.” She told him. “There’s some lighters down there too.”

“You're spoiling me. And I’m more than grateful. I can already smell the smoke wafting through the air. You know me more than anyone." He grinned, running his hand over the new clothes.

"I love what you've done here, ma. You really outdid yourself for me and I couldn’t thank you more.” He added, thanking her once more.

“Anyrhing for you. I wanted you to come home and feel comfortable and relaxed.” She smiled.

“Now go shower, change, whatever you need to do to get all that prison time off your skin.” She laughed. “I’m gonna go downstairs and cook you some food that’ll knock you the hell out.”

Jungkook smiled, pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. "You're the best, ma. I love you so fucking much." He whispered, giving her earlobe a gentle kiss before pulling away. "I'll be down in a few.”

“Take your time baby. Really.” She pecked his cheek, hesitant to leave him while she walked down to the kitchen.

Jungkook grabbed her hand before she could walk away, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss.

"Thank you again baby— Seriously." He gave her a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand gently.

She left him and headed back downstairs, prepping dinner for him.

“I’ll miss you!” She called out from the kitchen, blushing and giggling in excitement.

She couldn’t believe he was really out of prison.

For years she spent everyday fantasizing and day dreaming about him finally living at home again. For him to actually be here was ground breaking.

She had devoted herself to that man the entire time he’d been away. Her friends would try to encourage her to see other men to fill in the gaps of his absence but she absolutely refused.

She had many opportunities. She was a beautiful woman.

But no other man could ever compare to Jungkook.

She started preparing a quick yet savory meal for them to eat while he was showering.

She had prepped wonton soup for the actual night of his arrival but she had enough ingredients to make it for him tonight.

Jungkook was upstairs. He stripped down to his white tank, revealing his well-built, tattooed body.

He smirked at himself in the mirror, satisfied with how much he had grown during his time.

He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature to his liking before stepping in.

After scrubbing and shaving after what felt like forever, Jungkook hummed to himself as he stepped out the shower, feeling refreshed and anew.

He dried himself up before wrapping the towel around his waist, he stepped into the kitchen where his girl was. “Smells amazing baby, what is it?" He kissed her cheek, leaning on the counter.

“I made a homemade wonton soup with a side of rice.” She smiled, “You look clean. Someone’s already comfy back home.”

Jungkook chuckled, “With everything you’ve done, you made it easy.” He grinned as his stomach growled, looking down at himself.

“Go put some clothes on and dry your hair. You’re gonna get sick. I laid out clothes on the bed.” She instructed. “Use my hairdryer in the bathroom. Should be hung up in the bathroom.”

She took care of him and she tried his best to always pamper him. "Yes ma'am." He smiled, standing up and giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. "I'll be right back, baby."

Jungkook went back to the bathroom and dried his hair then put on the clothes she laid out for him.

He took a look at himself in the mirror and smiled. He had been evaluating their home since he arrived, she had really good taste.

He walked back into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her neck and inhaling her scent once more.

 Couldn’t get enough.

“So much better huh baby?” She hummed, lost in his embrace.

“Definitely, baby. You always make me better." Jungkook whispered in her ear before giving her a soft and lingering kiss.

He reached for the food she was cooking, but she stopped him. “No. I’ll serve you. Go sit down.”

“Body” He obliged, not able to help it but steal another kiss before sitting down to eat with her. "This smells amazing, love."

She served him his soup along with a cup of jasmine hot tea.

She placed his bowl and cup on his side of the table. She served herself after him, sitting across from him. “Let me know if you like it. Too hot, too cold, too spicy, too salty. Anything like that.”

Jungkook blew on his soup before taking a spoon full, burning his tongue a little bit but he didn't care.

He was just desperate for a home cooked meal.

"This is so fucking good, Y/n… like really fucking good." He glanced up at her, giving her a little smirk before taking another bite.

“I’m not just saying that either.” He munched, lost in the taste of his food.

She laughed, “Glad you’ like it.” She enjoyed her soup across from him.

Jungkook finished his soup, but didn't finish his whole bowl of rice.

He sat back and took a sip of his tea. "So how was your day today? Besides making me the best fucking soup I've ever had?"

“I just spent today prepping for you to get here. Cleaned all day.” She exhaled.

“Was the rice not cooked right? You didn’t finish.” She looked at him, concerned a bit at his action.

Jungkook shook his head. "The rice is fine, love. It's just not my favorite thing to eat."

He took another sip of his tea and reached under the table, squeezing her knee. "It’s all I ever ate when I was in there— not really my favorite at the moment."

“Oh my gosh!” Her eyes widened, “I wasn’t even thinking!”

“Baby you make rice with every meal. It’s like muscle memory for you.” He chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. You’re too cute to worry.”

“It’s my man’s first night home from prison. Of course your opinion matters to me.” She sighed.

Jungkook smiled at her and looked down at his empty bowl. He reached for her hand and glanced back up at her. "You don't have to care about anything when it comes to me. I’m amazed by everything you do.”

“Mm so sweet.” She blushed, “Go relax.” She seized their bowls, washing them in the sink.

Jungkook laughed, "I just want to make sure you're happy too. Wouldn’t want my baby like that in her own house" He stood, slowly making his way around the kitchen island.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and moved his lips to her neck, giving her a soft kiss. "Smell so good baby. Can’t get away from you.”

She blushed at the close proximity, continuing the dishes.

Jungkook pulled away from her neck, his eyes glancing over her face. He enjoyed seeing her blush more than he thought he did.

"What's going on in your head? You can tell me you know." He leaned against the counter, watching her intently.

“Nothing.” She shrugged. “I’m just happy you’re here. More than happy I’m just— thankful.”

She started getting emotional, blinking back tears. “I just thought— I thought you’d have to stay longer.”

Jungkook walked towards her, his finger pushed her chin up, making her look at him.

"Don't cry on me now, damn baby. Making me feel guilty.” He wipes away a tear that fell down her cheek with his thumb. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

“Sorry sorry” She apologized, fanning herself.

Jungkook smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead, moving her to clear her teary eyes. "Don't apologize for showing your emotions to me. I love how much you care for me."

“You smell so good too.” She hummed against him. “Better than that nasty fresh out of prison smell.” She laughed.

Jungkook grins, sniffing himself to remind her of the smell she meant, his arms squeezing around her. "If you thought it smelled bad..."

He kisses her cheek, “Imagine when I wasn't this clean for four years.” He teased, laughing.

“Ewww.” She giggled, “I’m okay not thinking about that.”

Jungkook chuckles, pulling back to look at her, cupping her cheek and wiping away loose tears with his thumb. "You're so cute."

He was laughing again. "Y/n, I missed you... I really fucking missed you. I don’t care how many times I told you tonight.”

“I missed you too Jungkook— Writing and calling you definitely isn’t as good as having you here at home with me.” She admitted.

Jungkook smiles, his eyes bright with happiness. "Yeah, I know... I fucking hated the phone. But-" He takes her hand in his.

"Being here now, being able to show up in the morning and see you again and again will make up for it all." He flashes her a wide grin.

“Four years was such a long time.” She groaned, walking out from the kitchen and walking up to their bedroom.

Jungkook nods and follows her, watching her hips sway as his thoughts drift to more primal thoughts.

He felt bad for wanting to get straight to it. But she had been teasing him in those

"It was. But hey-" He says from behind her. He wraps arms around her mid-section. "I'm here now. Should we get to it? Break our bed in together?"

“Oh my gosh you’re so annoying” She smacks his arm, “Go put on a movie while I change. You’re gonna be scrolling for a minute. I’ll be back.”

Jungkook laughs and lets go, jumping onto the bed. He grabbed the remote off the nightstand, surfing through the different streaming services.

He hadn’t seen anything like this in quite some time, but he already knew what he was looking for. She was definitely wrong about him scrolling for a minute.

She changed into a pajama set, being sure to show off a bit by leaving some buttons undone.

She knew what was gonna go down tonight, she just wanted him to wait for it.

She made her way back to the bed, resting her body beside him closely. “What’re we watching?”

“Starting tonight we’re gonna watch every Marvel movie made since I got locked up.”

“Are you serious?” She groaned. “That’s an insane amount of movies.”

“But,” He pouted cutely. “Your baby has been locked up for sooo long.”

“I hate you.”

He wraps arms around her mid-section, resting his head on her waist. "You know you love me, ma... and I sure as fuck love you."

“I love you more” She laughed and pecked his lips, playing with his hair as they watched the first movie together.

Jungkook hums in contentment, closing his eyes and letting her play with his hair.

Throughout the movie, Jungkook couldn’t help but grow more and more desperate.

He was on edge for the past few months. In prison they called and wrote letters but recently her letters had been more

Seductive.

Letters that consisted wordy details of her burning desire and unstoppable urge to have him.

“One more? Please? Last time really.” He pleaded.

“Fine.” She pecked his lips.

A few minutes later.

“Please?”

“Okay.” She pecked his lips.

More minutes go by.

“One more? Last time really.”

“Ugh fine.” She groaned, pecking his lips once more.

“Fuck I can’t take it." He groans as she pecks his lips, unable to help but leaning in and making out with her as their movie plays in the background.

“Don’t know how you expected this to go when you look like this.” He mumbled against her lips, mouth getting messier. “Wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Need to make love to you since you got locked up�� Her kisses grew more demanding.

Jungkook flips them over, pinning her down onto the bed and kissing her harder in return. "I needed you to fuckin' kiss me that hard when I was locked up.”

His hips buck up against hers, grinding his hardened cock against her thighs. “Dreamt about this every fuckin’ night.”

“I know baby fuck— me too” She grunted.

Jungkook reaches over to unbutton her pajama pants, before sliding them down her legs slowly— trailing kisses down her thighs as he does. "Take 'em off, baby. I wanna see how fuckin' wet you are for me already."

“Wanted dick since you got locked up— Been wet since you got released.” She couldn’t help the bashful expression all over her.

Yeah?" Jungkook grins, slipping his fingers underneath her panties and teasingly spreading her lower lips, his fingers slipping and teasing over her clit. "And how wet are you actually baby?"

“Fuck” She could cum at the contact alone. “S-So wet.”

Jungkook snickers, slipping a finger deep inside of her and pumping it in and out slowly, moaning at the tight and hot feeling around his fingers. "Fuckin' wet and tight girl hm? Huh baby?"

“F-Feels good daddy” The sensual nickname slipped from her lips, making his ears ring at the sweet sensation of her voice.

Jungkook groans at that nickname, thrusting his finger in and out of her faster now. "Shiiit, baby, you know I love it when you call me that."

He then pulls his fingers out, sucking them clean. “Love the way you taste. Needed that for years.”

“C-Can’t take it” She whimpered at the feeling of his retracting fingers.

Maybe it had been too long for her. By herself it took a good amount of work for her to get off but this was ruining her in seconds.

Jungkook smirks at that, pulling his pants down, his already hard length flopping out. "You’re gonna take it good baby?”

“Daddy please—“

“Is that all you got?" Jungkook taunts, teasing her entrance with his tip. "Beg some more, or you ain't getting this dick."

His dominant and demanding voice was coming back into play, almost better than what she remembered.

“Want it so bad. I’ll take it good, I promise.” Her voice cried, “So desperate.”

Jungkook groans at her begging, slowly pushing inside her. "Mmm fuck— so damn tight, just like that baby.”

“Take Daddy's dick." Him fully entering into her in a slow, but deep pace.

Her chest rose as he slid inside her. She swallowed, adjusting herself to his length.

Jungkook smirks at her reaction, gripping her hips as he begins to thrust in faster, a low moan leaving his lips.

“Missed this wet ass pussy” He stared her down. “You miss that, baby? How Daddy fucks you like this?"

“Y-Yes”

“Fat ol’ ass and huge ass tits— And a pretty face. God, you're so fucking hot." Jungkook grunts, picking up the pace, thrusting harder and faster.

The sound of skin on skin filling the room, making sure to hit that sweet spot. "This what you wanted, huh baby?

“All I-I wanted— all I needed.” She whined out. “Fucking amazing.”

“I thought I was desperate." Jungkook growls, slapping her ass hard. “Such a pretty girl. Didn’t try to play me once.”

The room is filled with even louder wet slaps of his hips against her ass and his smacks. His thrusts becoming more erratic, his cock growing desperate for release.

“All for you, all yours. Been with no one but you.” She moaned, truthfully speaking.

"Good girl." Jungkook leans forward, nipping at her neck before whispering in her ear.

"Say my name, Y/n. Who's dick are you on?" He grips her throat.

“Fuck! Yours Daddy! Yours!” She was a mess on his cock, eyes rolling back.

“That’s my girl. All fucking mine.” He was watching as her body shudders from his touch.

He admired the way she was breaking down in front of him, going dumb on his dick.

The way her body twitched, he knew she was growing closer.

He watched her, clearly enjoying her lack of breath. The way she squirms, his to control and use.

"Gonna cum on daddy’s dick baby? Gonna let go for me?" He's almost there, wanting to finish strong.

“Want your cum— Need it.” She whimpered, eyes growing teary from the overwhelming pleasure. “Please daddy.”

“So fucking hard to say no to you." Jungkook snorts, pounding into her mercilessly. He was seeking his needed high so he could cum right with her.

The couple both reached their orgasms, moaning each other’s names before giving in and cumming together.

“Fuck— so in love with you.” Jungkook grunts, emptily filling her up. He catches his breath, panting with her.

She could hardly get out of the bed because of him, she was limp.

She was shuttering from her orgasm. Her legs were a trembling mess.

He watches her collect herself, loving the sight of her. The way she looks so used and satisfied, only at his hands.

Once she was all together, she got back in bed with him, kissing and chucking with him as the two panted together.

“I still got it.”

“Goddamnit Jungkook.” She hid her face. “Yes- you do.”

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