#does this not suck enough to go in the main tag

[azzymaxxing]

its my birthday lrt me be lazy

[keeps-ache]

buttered noodles 💫💛🍜

[leighsartworks216]

Nyctophobia

Sylus x gn!Reader

I still have to sleep with some sort of light on at night and I was like well what would Sylus think about this. And now here we are

Warnings: hurt/comfort, crying, kissing, nyctophobia (fear of the dark), embarrassment, fear, pet names, swearing, implied sexual content, established relationship

Word Count: 2,153

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

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You feel so fucking stupid. Not because you did something wrong or made a fool of yourself (yet), but because this dumb problem you had was so childish. Even a 10-year-old is braver than you, a literal fucking Hunter!

You pout at the nightlight on your laptop. Sylus’s black card sat on your coffee table, just waiting to be used. And yet, the thought of using a card with access to millions of dollars (perhaps billions), just to buy a nightlight, halted you in your tracks, He hadn’t even said much about anything else you’ve bought before, and what he did say usually encouraged you to buy more expensive, lavish things. Surely, he wouldn’t flinch at this at all.

But that stupid, unrelenting voice in your head made buying the light impossible.

Which sucked.

It really, really sucked.

‘Cuz every time you stay in the N109 Zone in Sylus’s manor-slash-base, your room is so dark. Being in the lawless area doesn’t help, either. All the violence and danger you’d seen walking in the streets at night painted visions of stalkers in the corner, murderers with knives under your bed, and worse, just waiting for you to close your eyes and sleep.

But you don’t want to impose on the nice atmosphere Sylus has cultivated in his home. So you sleep with the light off, clinging to your blankets and telling yourself over and over again that nobody else is in the room.

Your phone buzzing interrupts your pity party. You shut your laptop and place it on the table next to the card. It buzzes again as you pick it up.

What’s wrong, sweetie?

I’ve only seen you make that face when a plushie falls out of the claw

You look up at your window. Sure enough, Mephisto’s red eyes greet you.

Stop spying on me >:(

Fine

The mechanical crow disappears from sight. You can just barely hear his caws as he flies off back to the N109 Zone.

But my question still stands

It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it

Sweetie, if someone says not to worry about something, people are going to worry about it

Damn him for giving you a chance to tell the truth. And damn your brain for reminding you that if you tell him the truth, he’d probably laugh at you. What does he have to worry about when he sleeps anyway? He’s already a light sleeper, but he also sleeps during the day, when creeps skitter from shadow to shadow. He wouldn’t understand.

Like I said, it’s nothing

Nothing happens for a few moments. The little dots to signify he’s typing don’t even show up. You can’t help wondering what he’s doing. What he’s thinking.

Maybe he’s getting ready to start the night, getting into his car so Luke and Kieran can drive him around to his many business dealings. Or maybe he’s picking out a vinyl from his shelf, taking it from the paper casing with a delicacy only shared with you, and setting it up on his phonograph. Or maybe he’s mimicking you: sitting on the couch, staring at the phone, wondering what to say next.

The dots appear, finally.

Come to the N109 Zone, kitten

Let me cheer you up

If Mephisto was still lurking around, he’d have seen just how fast you packed your things and hopped onto your bike.

Yes, the N109 Zone is dark and scary and extremely dangerous at the best of times. Yes, you’d be forced to sleep in the dark once again. Yes, your mind would play tricks on you and you’d probably stay up all night anyway.

But Sylus is there. And you haven’t seen him for almost a week. Who could blame you for jumping at the opportunity to spend time with him now?

-

Sylus greets you at the door with an amused smirk. “You got here fast.”

You playfully glare at him, smacking his chest as you pass by. “There wasn’t any traffic,” you tease.

The manor is as dark as usual. If it’s not black, it’s dark red. If it’s not dark red, it’s the occasional white furniture or golden accent.

Sylus trails behind you as you beeline it straight to your room to drop off your stuff. He leans in the doorway as you toss your bag onto the plush bed. “You seem to be in a better mood now,” he hums.

“I always feel better when I get to see you.” You smile up at him. It’s a soft remark. Genuine. Not the usual joking, back-and-forth banter you’re usually all too happy to supply during your visits.

His expression melts into something just as tender. Just as honest. He casually pushes himself off the doorframe and crosses the few steps it takes to get to you. His hands cradle you like one of his precious antiques, tilting your face up while he cranes his neck until the world has shrunk to just this moment.

He grins. His eyes keep glancing down at your mouth. You grab onto his waist. Your fingers curl into his soft red sweater, desperate to keep him this close. His lips brush against yours, stealing the air from your lungs.

“Then let me make it worth your while.”

-

It’s still dark when you wake up. The navy blue behind the curtain carries no hint of light, reassuring your sleep-addled brain that there is still plenty of time before day.

You roll over, silk sheets caressing your bare form, fully intending to go right back to sleep. Cold air slips underneath the blanket. You shiver and pull it tighter around you. Without thinking, you reach out toward the other side of the bed. It’s too large for just one person. The bed is cold beneath your fingers, even as you reach out farther.

You blink open your eyes, blearily staring into the darkness, searching for some answer you can quite grasp yet.

What are you reaching for…?

You turn your face into your pillow, determined to ignore that strange feeling in your gut and enjoy the last hours of the night. The rich scent of bourbon and vanilla catch on the edge of your senses. It smells just like Sylus…

You open your eyes again. Where’s Sylus?

Your fingertips brush the edge of the bed as you reach out. A discordant chord of terror strikes in your heart as you quickly pull your hand back. Thoughts of something reaching out to grab you flood your mind. Your heart races, chasing off the last ounces of sleepiness from your body.

You pull the blanket even tighter around you, curling it under your feet and tucking it into your sides until you’re in a cocoon of safety. No matter how hard you strain your eyes, you can’t see anything. But in your mind, everything can see you.

You curl up into a pitiful ball.

You could get up, but you can’t. What if something grabs your ankles?

You could grab your phone, but you can’t. What if something is waiting in ambush and your phone is the bait?

You could do a thousand things to get out of this darkness. But you can’t, for a million reasons.

The door knob slowly turns. The only indication the door has opened at all is the sound of the lower edge brushing against the carpeted floor. No light comes in from the hall. It’s all pitch black. The door clicks shut.

You hold your breath.

Footsteps. Large, heavy footsteps. They don’t stomp. You’re not sure if it would be better if they did. They creep around the side of the bed.

You don’t move.

Weight shifts the mattress. Slowly. Deliberately.

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears. You strain to hear anything else.

Something slides over your blankets.

You squeeze your eyes shut so tight you see spots. You bite your lip to avoid making sound.

The something - a hand, you think - wraps around your waist.

You flinch.

Oh god, oh god, oh god. They’re gonna know you’re awake. They’re gonna cover your mouth or stab you or put a pillow over your face or-

“Kitten?”

Your body shudders as you finally let yourself breathe. You grab your pillow as you quickly sit up and swing it at the face of your lover.

“I thought you were gonna fucking kill me?!”

Sylus laughs, chucking the pillow back onto your side of the bed. You can’t see him in the dark, but your body can’t stop taking in every ounce of him that it can. His smell - the bourbon and vanilla tinged with a natural musk. His voice - that rich, lively sound of his laugh and the breaths he takes. His touch - his hand, trailing patterns over the blanket at your hip.

You crawl toward him, clinging to his chest like a koala. He’s still shirtless from your escapades. His hand slides to your back, pulling you in tighter to him. You can feel the rumble of his voice in his chest. You press your ear against him to hear more.

“Why would you think that?” he asks once he’s gathered himself.

You don’t answer. You squeeze him tighter.

“Sweetie?” The amusement is replaced with concern. His other arm wraps around you. The muscles tense with the slightest effort. He says your name.

Relief settles heavy in your bones. Tears prick at your eyes, while you remain utterly powerless to stop them. “It’s too dark,” you whimper. It’s all you can think to say.

His arms tighten around you as he rolls onto his back, pulling you on top of him like you weigh nothing. He begins playing with your hair. “Does it scare you?” he asks softly.

You nod. You pull one of your hands out from around him to wipe the tears off your face and his chest.

God, you feel so fucking pathetic.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

You don’t answer. His chest rises and falls with you on it, moving with his sigh. He pulls your hand away from your face and replaces it around him. You want to fight it. Complain about how gross it is to get all your tears on him. But he shushes you gently and you can’t find the strength to try.

“Do you want to go downstairs?”

You nod again.

The world shifts as he sits up with you. He pries you off of him so he can stand up, but he doesn’t go far. He grabs his sweater off the ground and helps you put it on. Then he goes through your dresser for some clean underwear. He helps you stand and slides them on. You don’t open your eyes. You don’t want to see the darkness. So you hold onto his shoulders. You put all your trust into him, and he refuses to betray it.

He lifts you into his arms like you’re a damn princess. Usually, he’d throw you over his shoulder, but not this time. This time he’s careful, treating you with the utmost care as he carries you down the stairs and to the living room. With a wave of his fingers, the lights turn on, black and red left in its wake.

“It’s not dark anymore,” he promises as he sits down. You keep your face safely tucked into his neck. He rests his cheek on your head. His fingers go back to your hair. His other hand rubs patterns against your bare thigh.

After a while, your terror finally dissipates completely. You can see the light shining through your closed eyelids. Feel its subtle warmth against your skin. When you find the strength to open your eyes, the warm, comfortable ambiance of Sylus’s home greets you once more.

You use the sleeve of his sweater to wipe at your face. “I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks. You cringe with embarrassment. “It’s stupid, I know.”

He hums noncommittally. “Is this what you were telling me not to worry about?” he asks instead.

You nod. “I was looking at… at nightlights,” you admit in a murmur.

“What kind?”

“Hm?” You pull back to look up at him. He lets you, meeting your gaze with a soft seriousness. “What d’you mean?”

He smirks slightly, eyebrow quirking upward. “I mean, what kind of nightlight would you like, sweetie? Fairy lights, a wall light, one of those animal-shaped ones that glows…”

You frown and look away. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

“I’m asking,” he cups your cheek and guides your face to look at him, “so I can buy you one. Now, will you tell me, or do I have to buy every single nightlight on the market?”

You laugh despite yourself. “I have it pulled up on my laptop…”

He grins. “Good.” He pulls you into a chaste kiss. “Don’t hesitate to buy it next time. Or to tell me what’s wrong. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a sad kitten.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44

[miyukisu]

Took Me For a Ride .ᐟ

❤︎ | It's raining pretty hard outside—good thing there are more ways than one when it comes to warming yourselves up... (1.6k wc) ╰ feat. geto suguru (jjk) x afab! reader

kinktober entry no. 5 | kinktober masterlist

tags - cockwarming, suguru is a tease, established relationship, overstimulation, p in v, cowgirl position, profanity, both of you are students of jujutsu tech

minors do not interact

The teachers were gone for the day and it was rather peaceful. It meant that everyone back at the dorms could laze around in the room if they wanted to. But not you. Why would you stay in your room when you could be in Suguru's? Your boyfriend's bed felt better than yours anyway.

Having a day off was rare; you wanted to go out and make the most out of the day. But it was impossible at the moment. It was the middle of summer—highly unlikely for rain to fall—yet it did. It was raining like crazy.

It was a bummer. You were looking forward to doing all sorts of things with Suguru out in town. But then again, being wrapped up in Suguru's arms on what must be the comfiest bed in the world while the rain raged on didn't seem too bad either.

"How long do you think the rain will last?" you ask. He hummed and you felt it reverberate in his chest as you laid your head on top of him.

"Probably an hour or so. It's pretty strong." His soft voice was muddled by the raindrops that constantly hit the glass windows of his room.

You sigh, squeezing him a little tighter in your embrace. "That sucks."

"Don't you like cuddling with me?"

"You know that's not what I meant," you reply. Suguru chuckles softly, seeing you pout at his teasing. "It's just too cold. The blanket that we brought with us isn't thick enough," you add.

He starts rubbing his hand along your back as if that would generate some heat. "Want me to warm you up?"

The sly smirk on his face tells you that his words weren't at all innocent. He only confirmed your suspicions when you felt his hand go lower and lower—until he was groping your ass shamelessly.

You did this like clockwork. He does something so brazen and you respond in kind. Untangling your arms from his built frame, you straddle him. Suguru looks up at you with his cocky expression like he knows he has you wrapped around his finger.

"So eager to get warmed up hm?"

You shrug at him. "You offered, didn't you?"

You began rolling your hips on top of his while your hands remained firmly planted on his chest for support. Suguru's eyes never left your form; he wanted to ingrain every image into his memory. He was even kind enough to let you have the reins. He made himself comfortable, putting his hands behind his head to help him see you better—how your hips connected and how it would be even more so in a little while.

Often, you get lost in this feeling. Suguru hasn't filled you yet, but your mind was already fuzzy—opting to go on instinct alone.

A small whine leaves your lips and it makes the corners of his lips curl up. "I have a feeling that my pretty lady wants some more?"

You manage to scoff. "More? I want everything."

"Greedy, greedy, greedy," he repeats. He likes to act surprised as if this doesn't happen regularly. It makes it more exciting that way apparently.

"You know what to do then," he mutters beneath his breath.

And you do. You know it very well. You know to pull his sweats down excruciatingly slow because it makes his breath hitch. You know to trace that particular vein of his cock to make it harden completely. You know how to teasingly slide your panties off in a way that has his eyes almost popping out of his sockets. And you know how to give him a taste test before the main event.

Suguru licks his lips, watching the events unfold in front of him. It's a challenge for him to keep a straight face. Oh God, if you only knew the effect you had on him—you'd never be able to see him as a tough guy anymore.

You languidly swayed your hips forward and backward, rubbing your dripping core along the length of his cock. You were so close, yet so far.

"Trying to provoke me?"

His question was met by a teasing giggle. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You fucking temptress," Suguru hisses and it makes you laugh again.

He may be getting impatient, but he can't help but let a smile form on his face. For now, he'll settle on grabbing your hips. He feels free to sink his fingers into your flesh, seeing as you practically allowed yourself to blue ball him without any remorse.

His tip keeps getting caught in your folds, hitting your clit the best way possible. As much as you wanted to keep on riling him up, you had your own limits too. Eventually, you craved something more stimulating.

Something that could actually bring you over the edge.

Suguru's eyebrows raise along with your hips. His smile grew wider, watching you hover above him.

"Heh... look who gave in."

"Oh please," you retort. It was an amusing sight to say the least—you being stubborn as you deftly hold his dick to line him up against your entrance.

Your nonchalance to the situation added to his own personal thrill. Seeing a woman flustered over sex is one thing, but to see them own it—it's everything.

Finally, you decide to do the right thing—give the both of you the relief you've been craving ever since Suguru grasped at your behind. You inch down, slowly. Even after all this time, his size manages to knock the air out of your lungs.

Little by little, you feel the sweet stretch that only he can give you. It slides in almost effortlessly with the way your walls have his cock memorized.

"Any time now," he teases. He finds joy in seeing your face scrunched up, either of annoyance or of pleasure. Either way, he was the cause of that reaction.

Soon as you reach the hilt, his hands grip your hips tighter. "Ah, stay right there, okay?"

"What? Why?"

A deep sigh escapes his lips. "Remember the last time you rode me like this—the way you bounced so shamelessly making the bed hit the wall over and over again? Or the way you were moaning like a bitch in heat?"

You click your lips at the recollection. You weren't proud of it, but neither did you understand what the issue was.

"So you must've forgotten how we got punished for that, hm?"

"I remember very well, baby. But that doesn't mean we can't have fun again?"

You intentionally clench around him, showing Suguru what he's missing out on. He sucks air through his teeth, trying not to fall for your trap.

"I think what you're forgetting is how they mostly punished me. They thought I was some brute fucking the brains out of you when in reality you're the slut who rode herself to orgasm."

To be fair, who would ever pin you as the type to do so? Clearly, it had to be Suguru's doing all along.

"Consider this as your own punishment," he adds.

But you scoff. Not even Suguru would stop you. So you brought your fingers down to your exposed clit, rubbing and making sure he was watching.

"This is a punishment, isn't it?"

"Then why aren't you stopping me?" you ask with a sly grin to boot.

The cocky smile vanished from his face as he swatted your disobedient hand away, replacing your fingers with his own.

Suguru was rougher. He knew how you liked it and it made your eyes water. It was like it was the easiest thing for him to do—playing with your pussy and making you cum all over him.

"F-fuck, slow down. I'm gonna cum."

"Isn't that the plan?" he quips. And as if on cue, you do come. He can tell with the way you clasp your hand over your mouth to prevent any of your pornographic moans from seeping through the walls.

What was supposed to be a smooth wave of pleasure was disturbed by his frantic movements. Suguru didn't let you peacefully ride out your orgasm. He was going to coax another one out of you and he was going to do it fast.

"H-hey, I'm serious—not so fast..."

But your pleas fell on deaf ears. Rarely did he get entranced by your pleasure, but perhaps today was different. His eyes were glued to your pussy, where the two of you were connected.

Like tidal wave, pleasure soars through you again. After being overstimulated so mercilessly, all the strength that held you up dissipated—leaving you a panting mess lying right on top of him.

You could feel the rumble of his chest against your cheek. "What? Can't take it anymore? Just rubbed your pussy a little bit and you're already out cold?"

"Shut up..." you spat back, albeit shakily. "And for your information—that wasn't just a little bit."

In between your pointless argument, Suguru was fighting for his life not to lose his shit—feeling the way your pussy clences and flutters around his neglected cock.

Suguru took a deep breath, lifting your hips up slightly. He anchored his feet to the bed, stabilizing himself You had a hunch where this was going...

For a man who teased you for being impatient, he was worse. He was deeply insatiable.

"Let me show you something that'll make that pale in comparison, hm?"

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note fucking under cuddle weather hits different

[fairlyang]

Rookie III 🕷️

w/c: 8.8K

pairing: miguel o’hara x f!reader

tags: lil miguel backstory, miguel pov recap, perv!mig, horny thoughts, so dirty & filthy, he’s plotting, sex worker (positive!), room 1 mention, to 1 on 1 room, grand reveal, slight confessions. 18+ smut. cunnilingus, fingering, slight grinding, finger sucking, blowjob, unprotected sex (do not do!!), confession, creampie

taglist: @famouscattale @wakeupkrissy @laysmt @zaunsin @yujyujj @dprmoon @jadeloverxd @cl3stevu @canigetanormalun @weirdforever @sad-author-san @resident-clown @mybvalentine

a/n: for Miguel’s birthday here’s my long ass awaited rookie 3!! happy birthday to my mf man

part one — part two | kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

Miguel was one to keep his personal life private. Very private.

Unlike you, he actually had plenty of money in all of his accounts. He had enough to buy himself and a couple of the other spider’s houses, if he really wanted.

Not only was this man loaded but he was also lonely as hell. Though he’d never admit it to anyone and would prefer to suffer in peace and silence, the loneliness was starting to get him.

Unfortunately like the saying goes, “money doesn’t buy happiness.”

Until he found out, it indeed did.

He found the brothel way before you even realized you needed to make more money. He didn’t have a hard time with women but he was just looking for an easy way to get his dick sucked with no strings attached.

And if he could help a sex worker’s life with extra cash, why not?

After receiving blowjobs by different women he specifically chose, he found out quickly how much he liked this. The voyeur in him was awakening out of nowhere and he couldn’t help but love shoving his dick down a pretty girl’s throat without even being able to see her.

There was just something about the anonymity about it that he couldn’t quite wrap his head around but boy was he obsessed with it.

So obsessed, he became a regular.

He respected all the women and always made sure to give them a big enough tip so none of them would have to worry about food, water, or rent. It made sense in his head to help any of them out if they needed it, they were obviously providing a service but he did befriend a few of them.

Many needed an easy and quick way to make money because they were struggling but even when Miguel would help them out, they realized it might be a smart move to stay anyway. Was an easy way to make some fast cash because they had tons of regulars that went in more often than him. Which said a lot.

It was rare that the brothel would get a new girl, mainly because it was hard to even spot it and was an “if you know, you know” kind of operation.

So he was surprised when he got a call from Lola herself telling him a new rookie came in. At this point he had been going there for two years and he formed a bond with the girls, especially Lola who he now considered a close friend.

Without a second thought he dropped what he was doing and used his watch to open a portal to the roof of the brothel but quickly realized he was spider-man right now and not Miguel. So he had to make another portal to his place so he could quickly change.

He scrambled to put together an alright outfit then opened a portal to the alleyway right next to the building. He quickly closed the portal and hid his watch under the sleeve of his jacket.

Thankfully Lyla already knew to only contact him in case of an absolute emergency otherwise she does not bother him when he’s there.

He was nearly sprinting to the main entrance and almost knocked other clientele over but Estelle gave him a look as if saying “calm down”, and he did. He was not in the mood to get a lecture from her.

He couldn’t help the excitement of not only trying out a new throat but also potentially being able to help someone new who might need it.

He never would’ve guessed the chaos that would ensue mainly because he didn’t think anyone in the spider society would be struggling money-wise, let alone you, who he knew was such a hard worker.

And he had no idea it was your throat he would fuck, at least not at first.

The next morning after that night Miguel couldn’t stop thinking about the new rookie who took a throat fucking like a champ and he couldn’t help as the curiousity arose of who it could be. But already knowing the rules of the anonymity of those who wish for it, he ignored it.

He had to, to feel sane otherwise he’d just lose his mind.

On another note he found it strange that you hadn’t shown up to HQ yet considering you always came in early to help around wherever you could assist. It was technically still morning but getting closer to noon which was a bit concerning.

“Lyla can you track-“ He started to say but was interrupted.

“On it!” Lyla appears in front of him and does just that.

She always seemed to be teasing him about you for some reason so it was a no brainer for her to assume who he was thinking of, which just proved her inner thoughts right.

Why you’ve recently been living in his head is actually beyond him and he couldn’t bring himself to think of it as more as just caring for a friend.

“She is at her apartment here! Do you want me to contact her-“

“No. Do not, at least not yet.” He mumbles and shakes his head.

Maybe you were feeling sick or got an injury while on the missions yesterday? You would be stubborn enough to not tell him but would that really have you sleeping in this much?

Then an idea struck him and he was frozen in place.

An idea so unlike you it really had him in disbelief he’d even think it.

But then he really thought about it and maybe it wouldn’t be impossible?

Anything could be possible.

But this really had him stumped. Could there be a possibility you were the one at the brothel last night?

He scoffed and shook his head, as well as those thoughts deep in the back of his head that were secretly hoping it was you.

There had to be a logical explanation to you not coming early…

But what would the harm be in doing a little.. experiment to see if there’s anyway it somehow was you.

“Lyla call her around one, tell her that I want to see her in my office.” He says and she nods.

He had low hopes of this sick fantasy actually somehow being real but he just had to know and he was planning on testing you. In case it really was you.

He was looking at his screens and watching as you made the walk to his office and it really seemed like a walk of shame. You looked so nervous and may as well have been breaking a sweat.

It was a complete 180 to how you usually act, you’re usually so chill but also giddy. This was unlike you and now he was confident his plan would help him determine the verdict.

The nervousness was a bit helpful, very insightful but that wasn’t enough evidence to confirm it indeed was you.

What was a bit more helpful was how even more nervous you got while standing right in front of him. You may as well have been shaking and even more when he looked at your lips for a split second.

He nearly got distracted just thinking about those possibly identical plump lips that took his cock so well but he had to get his head out of the gutter.

Then the slightest bit of gaslighting came only to make it seem like this was just a friend annoyed his friend didn’t do some work for him.

A perfect facade.

Your blank look after that nearly had him wanting to confess but he wanted more. He needed that 100% confirmation and couldn’t act properly until he had it.

If this “Rosie Angel” really was you, he didn’t want to scare you off. So he took another break from going to the brothel, as much as it physically pained him.

Whether it was you or not, he needed that throat taking his cock again but lord even better would be to just be inside-

No.

He was getting way too ahead of himself but he couldn’t help it, after all this was possibly the best case scenario for him.

As perverted as it was he wanted it to be you so badly. Maybe a bit selfish on his end or just his consciousness realizing his horny and maybe romantic thoughts towards you are becoming evidently worse than usual, he didn’t care.

So for a week straight he just dealt with the horniness with his own fist and tried his hardest to not get a boner whenever you were near because his brain just made him believe it was you who took his cock. The pavlov theory really did a number on his routine.

It was a challenge but he was also able to do regular ole missions with you. He conditioned himself to not have those thoughts when lives could be at stake, when he was doing his job as Spider-Man.

At the end of the week when he was already planning on going back to the brothel is when he got texts from both Lola and Estelle that the rookie was getting switched to room 1 and he was beyond thrilled.

Them not hearing the end of how much he liked the rookie’s service along with the amount of how much he paid plus tipped that night made them laugh at how fast he got obsessed, but little do they know just how much he’s been losing his mind.

This may as well have been a dream come true for him but he still needed that 100% confirmation. And there was one easy way to do that.

One that he should’ve thought of way sooner but better late than never.

He only tracked people’s watches when it was absolutely necessary, and this felt very necessary so he didn’t hesitate.

“Lyla can you-“

“Yep!”

He rolled his eyes and groaned, at this point he’s just becoming predictable and he hates that his AI knows what he’s thinking.

“She is…” her eyes widen and he can’t handle the anticipation.

“Where Lyla? Where is she?” He asks desperately, needing that confirmation or for her to deny it to just throw this whole idea out of his head.

“She is at your favorite place!” She says and without another word he opens a portal straight to the alleyway by the brothel since he was already dressed properly.

Lyla disappeared without another word, already knowing the routine but having a feeling this one would be slightly different for him.

He quickly closed the portal and looked around to where your watch could be. Maybe to call it irresponsible later because technically it could get into the wrong hands but he had bigger matters into his hands.

He was finally going to fuck you, and because of Lola’s clumsy manner of saying his name that night he was almost certain that you knew it was him. Now all he was thinking was why you didn’t have the courage to confront him all week?

He was losing his mind all week but then figured you might’ve also been the same way, maybe even worse because he paid you generously.

Finally after some loud beeps letting him know where the watch was he found an array of webs by some trash bags. Subtle.

He sighed noticing it was untouched and started walking towards the entrance. Now was when the horny thoughts came in and he didn’t bother to stop them this time.

It wasn’t the most ideal way to fuck you but nonetheless he’s finally gonna do it.

He took his phone out and quickly texted Lola he was outside so they could get straight to it. He walked in and there was a line of men giving money to Estelle while they murmured about fucking such a perfect pussy.

It was to no surprise they were talking about the rookie, you, of course. It only had him grow more excited that he stuck three fingers up then made a zero to Estelle so she can get the hint that’s how much extra time he wanted with you.

He only did this on special occasions, so of fucking course he was going to do that tonight of all nights.

She rolled her eyes and nodded then waved him off while she counted the bills that were going to be all for you.

He walked past the men and there was Lola with the most obnoxious smirk on her face which only prompted him to roll his eyes.

“Took you long enough Mig.” She jokes with a chuckle then turns to walk towards the long hallway.

“Couldn’t really help myself.” He says with a slight shrug making her snicker.

He turned to look at her and her lips were in a straight line trying so hard to not laugh. She coughs then chuckles, “just never seen you so… well not pussy drunk but after tonight I’m sure you will be.”

Only now did he pay attention to the melody of different moans and whimpers that were up ahead. It only had him wondering which were yours and how angelic they’d sound as he first slips inside you.

Just like that he felt his pants getting tighter and the anticipation was killing him.

“You have no idea.” He murmurs, making her chuckle again.

“Y’know sharing is caring around these parts.” She joked, making him groan.

“We’ll have to see about that.” He scoffs with another eye roll.

“Was a week too long for you? Too pent up?” She teased and pouted at him, earning herself a laugh from him.

“Yeah something like that..” he mumbled, not exactly willing to give her the explanation she so desperately wants to know.

She’s yet to know about his actual main job and not the half lie that he’s a geneticist. He wants to keep it that way, mainly for her safety.

They made a left turn and Lola cleared her throat to prepare her preppy voice. Miguel laughs and grins, “time to take our acting skills to the test yet again.”

This time she rolled her eyes and stuck her middle finger up as they enter the first room. She brought her hands down and Miguel folded his arms against his chest as all the men looked at her just because of the loud clicks of her heels.

There he was beside her looking like a guard dog when really he was just making sure no one fucked with her when she does her job.

Meanwhile you were on the left side of the room in the middle slot fucking yourself back into the man that was pounding into you. After a few strokes he finished inside you and pulled out.

Lola made a gesture with her finger to the line of men that were behind you to beat it because someone with more money than them wanted a turn.

It was basically an unspoken rule to leave when Lola appeared.

Thankfully they all scrambled and that’s mostly just because of the big man next to her and also the fact that they know Miguel would beat them to a pulp if necessary like he has done before to previous assholes.

Miguel was somehow already rock hard and just seeing you in that position was enough for precum to leak in his boxers. He was fucking ready and beyond excited but the smallest bit of nervousness was also in the mix.

What if he came too fast? Or all of a sudden wasn’t good enough? Or if he moaned out your name?

“Here’s our rookie! She just got moved up front today actually!” Lola says excitedly as if you both didn’t know that already.

“Dropped in at the perfect time then huh?” He says and is now stood behind you, admiring your ass and dripping pussy.

Just so fucked out. Probably haven’t came either because men are just so greedy. He needs to be the one to change that.

“As if this isn’t your usual time Miguel.” She says and he nearly couldn’t stop the eye roll because of her playful tone.

Ignoring her, he started to unbuckle his pants because he was growing impatient and you were right in front of him. Looking so gorgeous with your ass out and now creamy pussy.

He pulled his pants down along with his boxers making his hard cock spring up against his stomach. Lola snickers for a second before walking away and off to find her next client.

Then he grabs his cock and rubs the tip against your folds then slides it down to your clit. He was already fucking aching to feel you so he didn’t hesitate to tease your hole, dipping the tip in slightly then pulling it away.

You were oddly quiet this time and he hated it. So he slammed into you and finally you let out a loud moan.

So pretty.

“Good girl.” He moans and places his hands on to your hips, moving it back into him.

You let out a whimper then sounded muffled and he couldn’t have that so he starts pounding into you so quick that you were back to moaning for him again.

He was letting out his own moans, he couldn’t be bothered to be quiet. This really was a dream come true and your pussy was pure heaven.

You were perfectly tight and he regretted not making a move before. Who would really care about him being an unprofessional boss?

No one would ever have the nerve to complain or do anything of the sort to his face.

He was now fucking you deeper and deeper, making sure to hit his hips against yours with every thrust. His eyes were nearly rolling to the back of his head and he was somehow already starting to feel that all too familiar feeling in his abdomen.

You were just squeezing him so perfectly and he couldn’t have ever guessed this would be happening two weeks ago.

A part of him felt a bit bad, a very small, tiny part. But your moans could got rid of that part and he couldn’t be bothered to care. He’ll deal with the consequences later.

For now, he desperately wanted to make you cum and fill you up.

He looked down at your perfect ass and smacked it before alternating between both cheeks which caused them to become a bit red. “Fuck baby- you feel so good wrapped around my cock like that." He moaned out and started fucking you harder, leaving you a whimpering mess.

“Fuckkk-“

He then started slowing down slightly and started hitting deeper, now hitting that sweet spot with every thrust. "Mmm fuck yes- please!" You cried out and move your ass up against him making him groan.

He smacked it and continued his pace letting out grunts and moans because you just felt so fucking good. "Oh god yes- just like that. Please don't stop-" you moaned and he just shook his head as if you could see him.

He then switched his pace now going faster, and fucking you harder again, leaving you a pretty whimpering mess for him.

One thing he was wishing for was being able to see your face, oh how badly he wanted to see how good you’d look.

How your face is looking right this instant. All he could see was the way your legs started to shake and he could tell you were close as well.

You were letting out the sweetest little cries for him after bringing a hand down to start rubbing your clit and they were only helping him get that much closer to the edge.

He continued his pace but with how perfect you sounded, he started to twitch inside you which resulted in you clenching against him, making you both moan.

He felt so fucking close and he could tell you right there with him, "Fucking cum for me pretty girl- fuck- please cum for me baby." He groans and you cry out, your whole body shaking as Miguel holds you steady as he came inside you.

Your walls were entrapping him as he completely slowed down, riding his climax. "I fucking knew you'd feel so good angel." He murmurs and slowly pulls out.

You whine as soon as he slipped out of you which only had him grinning ear to ear. He happily watched all his cum leak out of your pussy and chuckled when you clenched against nothing. Poor thing.

He sighed and tried to control his breathing as he pulled his boxers and pants up because there was no way he had another in him.

His worst nightmare, he did cum too fast.

He’d just have to make it up to you.

So as you calmed yourself down as soon as he heard Lola’s heels he ushered her over and told her to tell Estelle to not let anyone fuck you for half an hour because he still wanted to pay for it but to use it to give you a break.

“You’re such a good man Mig.” She says and gives him a genuine smile.

He waved her off and looked at the mess below your legs. It was a lot and hopefully you wouldn’t be doing this for too long otherwise you’ll definitely have a reason to not go to work tomorrow and he wasn’t going to have that.

If it weren’t for Miguel’s generousity, you definitely would’ve been overstimulated to hell and back. You gladly took that half hour to calm down but then took another break because your legs were hurting.

Given you were getting used like a fleshlight for a straight hour before Miguel came along but he was just the one that pushed you over the edge.

You didn’t expect that was how your night was gonna go. You only stayed for another hour before deciding you couldn’t do anymore and went home. Not a singular man could give you an orgasm, only edging you for their own pleasure once again.

But not before hearing from Estelle that you didn’t ease yourself into it which had you groaning.

Once collecting your watch you just opened a portal right then and there. You closed it then went directly to the bathroom clean yourself up as fast as you could because you were ready to knock out.

After a few minutes of lazily cleaning up, you went into your room and took off all your clothes and quickly put on fresh new clothes. You then plopped onto your bed and immediately knocked out.

You woke up to the loud sounds of police sirens and cars screeching outside your window and it was times like these you wish you weren’t living in a crappy apartment.

You just groaned and covered your face with your body pillow, not wanting to wake up or even feel the sun hit you. Just stay home and relax because your body desperately needed it.

But you were more responsible than that.

So you groaned and threw your pillow to the side and looked over at your clock on your bedside table. 11:26 am.

“Shit!!” You mutter and jump out of bed only to fall straight to the floor.

You groaned and slowly got back on your feet, you steadied yourself and you were barely able to stand.

At this point it’d be so obvious.

You slowly walked to your bathroom praying a shower could ease the pain because you couldn’t go out saving lives if you couldn’t even fucking walk.

After your shower you felt a bit better, it relaxed your muscles and might barely be enough for you to go on about your day.

But you just might not go to the brothel tonight, so your body can take a break otherwise this whole ordeal might mess up with the most important part of your life.

You grab your suit and put it on before grabbing your watch and putting it on as well. You make a portal to HQ and walk towards it, mask in hand.

You ended up in the lobby and quickly made your way inside to see who you could help or if you could immediately join in on a mission.

Meanwhile Miguel was watching you on his screens very carefully. After last night he thought it was best to be upfront and honest, not just because it was morally correct but because he couldn’t handle doing everything he’s done and not even making it real.

Not behind his facade at the brothel of a rich lonely man, but as him.

As the guy who gives the orders around in your main job or the guy who sometimes goes on missions with you. Or even the guy who sometimes cracks up at the jokes you make but more importantly, as the guy who has grown to like you.

As Miguel O’Hara.

He realized that it was about time that he came to terms with his true feelings and after he’s done telling you, he’ll just have to wait for your reaction.

So he assigned Jess to take you on a handful of missions, all to catch easier anomalies because he knew you must’ve been tired. Then when you’d go to your universe, he’d wait until you got back and put his plan into action.

Finally after what seemed like the longest day imaginable, you made a portal from your universe to your apartment back at Earth-928.

You walked into your room, quickly closing the portal, and immediately plopped down onto your bed with a groan. You sighed and closed your eyes, thinking a little nap won’t hurt.

You scoot over making sure your whole body is on the mattress then laying your head against your pillow. But right when sleep was about to take over, you feel your phone buzz in your suit pocket.

You were going to ignore it until it buzzed again and you just groaned then turned to your side to pull it out. You looked at the lockscreen notifications and see it was a text from Lola.

With a furrowed brow you tap the message then unlock your phone. You scan through the text and your eyes quickly widen. She said someone was requesting for you at the one on one rooms.

Someone.

There was only one fucking person that came to mind and it brought instant anxiety to your body. Miguel had to have somehow figured out it was you because one on ones were, from what you’ve seen, the most expensive.

And if by some miracle it wasn’t him then you must’ve really been making good impressions.

You were unsure if it was a good idea to go, mostly because you feared the absolute worst. You really loved being a part of the Spider Society and would hate to not be a part of it just because you needed another job to make more money.

It would be the most unfortunate thing to happen but it made you realize it’s probably for the best to be upfront and honest. You knew from the start that it was him and it should’ve been top priority to tell him instead of keeping quiet about it.

And then proceeding to accept his money after the fact... It wasn’t technically stealing but it sure did feel like it so you’d have to return it as well.

You sighed, getting up and walking towards your closet to figure out what to wear. You eyes scanned through the side where you had your dresses and decided why not.

You grabbed a red velvet bodycon dress because if you were about to have a reveal and confrontation, you may as well look good for it.

After putting it on the dresser, you quickly went into the bathroom to take the quickest shower ever but completely avoiding your hair because there wasn’t time for it.

You got out, quickly scrambling back into your room to put on undergarments then the dress. You grabbed a pair of regular black heels, putting them on carefully then going back to your bed to put on your watch.

Realizing you couldn’t expose your watch, you turned to the small sofa by your bed and grabbed the leather jacket. You opened the portal to the alleyway then put the jacket on as you walked in.

You felt an immediate shiver as you walked onto the pavement. You closed the portal then walked towards the front entrance, trying to ignore the goosebumps on your body. Not only was it cold but you were nervous as fuck and that didn’t mix well.

You tried to shake the nerves but it was hard to. In a way, your life was on the line and heavily relied on a man who you somewhat have a decent relationship with. One who you have slowly been getting feelings for but that’s besides the point.

Now walking through the front door did not help ease your mind and only made it more real.

You went up to Estelle and she handed you the sheet, “still want the mask?”

You hummed, really thinking about it for a second but then nodded, “yes please.”

You signed in then she handed you a matching red mask while she grabbed the sheet. “Give me a second Rosie.” She says, holding a finger up and you nod as you put the mask on.

She then picks up a walkie talkie and speaks into it, “we need Lola up front.”

While you waited for Lola you tried to calm yourself down. Silently praying it wouldn’t be him. But if it was him then praying it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

You faced away from Estelle and took deep breaths, wanting this to be as fast as ripping a bandaid off.

Finally you heard Lola’s clicks and you looked to your left to find her walking up to you, “and the rookie upgrades once again!”

You chuckle then follow her lead to the stairway as Estelle wished you luck.

You’ll need it.

“How are you feeling?” She asks as you start to climb up.

“Nervous.” You mumble and quickly go up the stairs to catch up and stand next to her.

“Aw it’s okay. I remember my first time and you just gotta be honest with the guy. Communication is key for this scenario and set ground rules on what is, and isn’t okay.” She advises and you nod along.

The last part really got to you and made you realize how wrong you’ve gone about this. Maybe being honest after you sucked his dick would’ve been better than now.

Hell you weren’t so sure the booked room was even going to be used as intended, but hopefully the walls were thick.

“Oh and don’t worry about the walls, they’re better than the ones downstairs.” She adds as you made it to the second floor.

She walks ahead of you and for the most part the hall was quiet. That was until you walked past the doors and could barely hear the faint sounds of moans.

This floor looked like it was recently remodeled, fresh wallpaper, bulbs that actually worked. Huge difference from the main floor.

You walked past like eight doors, being that this floor was like an apartment hallway and it seemed they were booked early.

Finally she stopped at the number ten and motioned towards the door, “here you are. If you need anything just shoot me a text.”

You quickly nodded, reaching for your jacket pocket but realizing you forgot to grab your phone before leaving.

Well it was too late for that now.

“Have fun!” She chirped and walked away from you, going back the way you came from.

You took a deep breath then let it out and repeating it until your heart beat stopped racing. Once you finally felt emotionally and physically ready you grabbed the doorknob and opened the door.

You walked in and closed the door shut behind you, looking straight at the bed but more importantly at the familiar figure sitting on the end of it.

You held your breath and you felt your mouth run dry, shit.

He slowly turned to look at you, once his eyes met yours and that’s when you knew that he knew.

His eyes alone proved it.

You walked towards him when he stands up and turns to face you. He kept his hands to himself as you got closer until you were stood right in front of him.

His eyes bored into yours and if looks could kill, that is not what his were saying at all. It was surprisingly the opposite. His eyes were soft and warm, quite the distinction from how they usually were which made it all the more confusing.

You gulped and decided you had to be the one to start, it was only right. “Miguel I-“

But it seemed he had a different plan.

“No, please, let me go first.” He cuts you off and you’re instantly confused.

“Just starting off by saying I’m not mad, hell quite the opposite..” he starts, muttering the last part and you gasp because what.

“Also I didn’t immediately know right after the first night, I had to do some investigating before bringing it up to you to make sure that it really was you.” He says and you slowly nod.

“I did have the thought it was you after you didn’t come in the next day, bright and early like usual but couldn’t base it off just that.” He explains making you chuckle.

“You’re too smart for your own good.” You respond and he shrugs.

“I only thought of using the tracker on your watch the day you were switched to the first room so don’t give me too much credit.” He admits earning himself a scoff.

“Our watches have trackers….” You say dumbfounded with wide eyes and he just stays silent.

“Anyway… so what are your reasons for not telling me? Given that Lola said my name by accident so you definitely knew.” He changed the topic because he wanted to know bad, he’s been wanting to know all week.

“I uh.. well I guess because I was mainly thinking you were going to curse me out or fire me and I didn’t want to lose my place at the Spider Society.” You admitted then quickly added, “and because we- I, y’know… y-yesterday- well I j-just- I didn’t know how to.”

Your face burned up quick and seeing him in the flesh while thinking of everything you did was just something else.

Just last night he was-

You were bent over-

No. No time to think about it. It was not the time.

Suddenly it felt like the room grew hotter and your nerves were coming back again. What was it he said to start this all off with? Opposite of mad? The hell did that mean?

Your mind was going thousands of miles an hour right now so you were lost as fuck and not in the mood for mind games. “So what’s the opposite of mad?” You ask and he sighed.

His hand reached out to your face and he pulled up the mask then threw it to the floor. Seeing your face and now visually confirming it with his own eyes, he knew what he had to do.

“I just think that what happened doesn’t mean the end of the world..” he murmurs and you feel your heart start to race.

No fucking way-

“So what you're saying is we don’t have to pretend it didn’t happen?” You quietly ask and he slowly nods, “I think I’d prefer that.”

“Why's that?” You whisper and gulp. Was this really happening?

“I was kind of hoping it was you..” he says and takes another step closer to you.

“Listen you know I’m not good at talking about things like this- it’s just- well recently I’ve-“ he stammered and was avoiding your eyes.

You bring a hand up to his face and make him look at you, “we could do this outside of the brothel.” You suggest and he nods.

His cheeks were warm against your hands, your heart was beating out of your chest, and this all just felt so right. You could tell where things were going and you were happy this is how things were turning out. This was something you never thought you’d ever get to do with him but yet it was nice.

Well it was better than nice, it was something you’ve wanted for a while but were too scared to admit it.

“I should’ve just told you sooner- about last night-“ he couldn’t even finish either sentence so you took another step closer, now being as close as you can be.

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” You whisper, moving your hands down to wrap them around his neck, “not right now anyway.”

His eyes scanned you, looking for any discomfort or hint of uneasiness but there was no sign of either.

He quickly wrapped one arm around your waist and the other to your jaw, pulling you in for a kiss. You kissed him back without a second thought immediately knowing this is what you wanted.

It’s what you both wanted all along.

So because of that, the kiss quickly went from soft and sweet to hot and heavy within mere seconds. Your hands were all over each other, quickly scrambling to take off clothes while also getting a proper feel for each other's bodies.

Your hands were on his biceps as he took your jacket off and threw it behind him. You pulled away for a split second so he can help you get on the bed but not before he took a look at your wrist. “Oh we’re having a talk about your watch later.”

“Fuck yeah we are because what did you mean by tracker-“ you test and raise an eyebrow.

He just waved you off, grabbing onto your back as he helped you lay down on the middle of the bed while he hovered over you. “Like I said, later.” He responded making you playfully roll your eyes.

That was when he grabbed onto your wrist and slipped said watch from it and he reached over, placing it on to the bedside table, before doing the same to his, “you take it off during sex?” You ask and fight back a laugh.

“Well I see you technically did the same…” he mumbled and went down to kiss you from your jaw then slowly going down.

“Whatever..” you mutter and bring your hands to his head, running your fingers through his slicked back hair.

He left soft kisses along your neck while running his hands up and down your body, now taking a proper feel for himself. This could technically count as your first, since you’re seeing each other and not blocked off by a wooden wall. Hopefully it'll be the first of many in your near future because he was already obsessed.

He sucked on your neck, making sure to leave a mark then licking it softly. He kissed down your neck, then to your collarbone and then down to your cleavage. He could take his time and really savor the moment, and you but he was too impatient and insatiable to wait.

He lowered himself down, kissing your stomach over your dress then going down even lower. He kissed your thigh and kept going to which point he lifted your left leg up just to continue his trail. He sat up and kissed your ankle gently then grabbed your heel and took it off.

He put that leg down then went to grab the next. He held it up gently, taking the heel off and putting the pair on the floor below him. He kissed your ankle then started coming up fast so he laid back down, licking eyes with you the whole time until he was right between your thighs.

His arms spread your legs and he got closer, kissing your inner thigh then switching to the other. He looked at the red panties and groaned because he was able to smell your arousal already. His heightened smell helped but even then the small indent of your slick wasn’t helping you either way.

“Didn’t have a chance to do this yet.” He mutters as he grabs the fabric, pulling it to the side and nearly drooling at the sight.

“But you knew it was me last night, right? You technically could’ve.” You teased, making him chuckle.

“Too impatient once I realized it was you.” He murmurs, looking up at you, “like you are now?” You retort and he nods.

He looks back down and dives right in, licking at your folds to have a proper taste and now he’s glad he saved it for right now.

He moaned against you as your sweet arousal filled his mouth, somehow tasting even better than he could have ever imagined. His tongue went up and flicked your clit while his left arm wrapped around your thigh.

Maybe actually seeing him, just clicked in your brain that it really was him all along.

He added the first finger in, sliding it in so easily as he went back up to suck on your clit. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you moaned his name, subconsciously grinding against the mattress to feel some sort of pleasure himself.

And of course your moans were also angelic, that should not have been a surprise since he heard them already but yet it was. He slid his finger out then back in before piling it in and out at a fast pace right off the bat, “oh fuck Miguel- just like that baby-“ you moaned and felt your eyes flutter.

The pleasure was already making you dizzy but it might just be the fact that he admitted he wanted it to be you that played a part in making your head spin. How he could suck at anything that involves feelings but be amazing at showing it, was beyond you.

He pulled away, eyes on your pretty face as his glistening lips turned into a smile. Even if he did wait to confess to more than just one thing, he felt content with how he did it. At least it made sense in terms of your relationship.

Your arousal was already dripping down his finger and it had him needing more.

So he added a second finger, and licked his lips as you locked eyes with you, “that feel good angel?” He murmurs and you quickly nod.

“Fuck yes- yes it does.” You whine as he pumps them harder into you.

“Doing so good for me too baby. Fuck I need to be inside you again.” He moans, making your walls clench against his fingers.

“Mm you like that huh? God there was nothing I wanted more than to just take you out of the box and bring you up here.” He murmurs and it makes you shake.

“I wouldn’t have complained.” You say with a grin as he groans.

“Can we switch? I need you.” You offered and didn’t even mean to sound so desperate but he couldn’t say no.

“Are you sure?” He asks, just to make sure because he’d love to still give you pleasure.

He’d be there between your legs for hours if you’d let him.

You nod and let go of his hair, “need you in my mouth again too.”

His eyes roll back before laying back on you and he slowly slips his fingers out then sits up. You quickly get on top of him and start grinding yourself against the hard imprint of his dick. He brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean as you did so, the eye contact feeling so intimate.

Your hands were on his shoulders, steadying yourself as he moved you both to the top of the mattress. You push him down and he takes his fingers out of his mouth when you suddenly pull him in for a kiss.

He kissed back and slid his tongue inside your mouth so you could taste yourself as well. You could taste it so easily and it had your head spinning again.

You break away and go down his body, quickly unbuttoning his dress shirt because you needed a peek. Your hands trail along his pecs and go down the line of his abs as you gawk at his body.

Of course that tight fitting suit left nearly nothing to the imagination.

You knew he was fit, but this was the body sculpted by Greek Gods themselves because he looked so fucking good.

You broke out of your little trance and went down lower until you were between his legs, hands already working on his belt as he spoke, “not spending too much time on this, I need you.”

You fought back a moan as you undid his belt and quickly did the button then lowered the zipper, “whatever you say, boss.”

His cock twitched right before your eyes and you quickly pulled it down making it spring up and hit his stomach. You grabbed it and the tip was leaking so much, you licked it off making sure to swallow before spitting on it then stroking him with both hands.

You got closer then opened your mouth and put it inside, instantly bobbing your head since it seemed you were both impatient. He moans and his hands went to your head, just petting it for now. You pull away just for a second to make things clear, “you can fuck my throat again if you want.”

“As good as it was, we’re gonna have to save it for another time.” He murmured and you nod then got right back to work.

You made sure to take him all the way down until his hairs started tickling you and your throat was filled then went back up just to immediately go back down, “fuck baby- doing so good, you like taking my cock huh?”

You moaned, squeezing your legs together as you nodded with your mouth full, “good girl- such a good fucking girl.” He murmured and you looked up at him through your lashes.

“Need you so bad baby, fuck-“ he moans and you felt your pussy clench around nothing.

Suddenly he pulls you off and he wipes your drool away with his hand while you quickly sit up, “how do you want me?”

“On your back, wanna look at you.” He says and you lay down.

You spread your legs as much as you could handle as he positions himself between your thighs. His hands rub the back of your thighs gently as he teases you with just the tip. He slips it in then right back out making you pout, “Miguel please.” You whined and he just grinned.

“Need it so bad baby? How bad do you want it?” He murmurs and you gulp.

“So fucking badly. It was on the back of my mind all day, just needed you to fuck me.” You admit and he groans before slipping it in.

He pushed himself all the way in and then pulled back just to slam back into you making you both moan. You nearly forgot how thick he was but you didn’t need time to adjust, it was like a perfect fit already.

He started to move instantly, desperate to make you both cum because those moans were gonna be the death of him. You squeezed him to fucking perfection and he was happy you felt the same way because he wasn’t so sure how he would’ve moved on from such a perfect girl with a perfect pussy if you didn’t.

His thrusts were fast and his hips were meeting yours as he started going harder, “fuck- if I cum fast again it’s not my fault.” He says in between breaths making you laugh.

“Oh so it’s mine?” You teased and he instantly nods.

“You fit like a fucking glove-“ he grunts, making you moan.

His hands suddenly came up to your chest, bringing the top of your dress down and the bra too before his hands started to squeeze your tits in his hands, “perfect tits too, fuck you’re perfect.”

Your walls entrapped his cock, making every thrust feel even better. His fingers pinched your nipples as your hands just grabbed his arms, wanting to feel absolutely everything, “Fuck Miguel just like that- don’t stop-“

“Don’t plan on it.” He mutters then groans.

You felt even better than last night which he didn’t think was even possible.

Your juices were making a ring around his base which had him losing his mind once he noticed. He focused on going harder and deeper now since he was able to tell that he was sadly already getting close.

How it was possible that your body did this to him twice on back to back nights was crazy, but he was really surprised because it was you, of all people.

“After this I don’t think I’ll need to come back here.” He says, making you melt, “Yeah? Found what you needed?”

“Mmm I sure hope so.” He purrs and you grab onto his shirt and pull him close to you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him as close as possible which made him hit your sweet spot with every thrust, “fuck! Oh my fuck-“

“Oh baby- god you’re fucking perfect.” He moans as you wrap your arms behind his neck.

He leaned his forehead against yours as you moaned in sync every time he hit your sweet spot. You breathed against each other, just living in the moment and relishing that this was real.

You brought a hand down and started rubbing your clit because you felt that too familiar feeling building in your stomach and wanted to be able to cum with him. He could feel you clench against him even more now and he could feel his own orgasm on fast approach.

That’s when his brain decided to make a heartfelt confession, “Y’know I think I’ve a-always liked you- just too stubborn for my own good sometimes.”

You gasped then tried to keep your eyes open and on his as he continued, “Please be mine, I’ll take care of you, anything you need I’ve got you. Just need you like this and to always by my side.”

You whimpered and nodded, your heart racing fast and the butterflies mixing with your incoming orgasm overwhelming you, “yes- fuck yes absolutely-“

He then leaned in and smashed his lips against yours, he slid his tongue inside your mouth and immediately fighting for dominance as he started to twitch inside you. He moaned against your mouth and you just kept the sloppy kiss going as long as you could.

Just then both your orgasms came crashing down and you were letting out combinations of mewls and whines as he groaned and spilled his load as deep as he could. Your bodies molded together, you brought your hand up then caressed his arms as his hand was on your jaw, light stroking your cheek as you came down from your highs.

He pulled away from your mouth and leaned his forehead to yours as you both panted. His thumb stroked your cheek softly as he slowed down then slowly started to pull out but you stopped him, “wait- not yet. Let's just stay like this for a while.”

“I don’t wanna crush you though.” He murmurs then flips onto his back slowly.

You held onto him and laid your head on his chest, now bringing your right hand up to his chest. You were able to hear his heart beat and it made you smile, feeling a new sense of happiness and tranquility.

He held you gently, stroking your head as he attempted to calm his rapid breathing. Your presence helped, with just hearing your soft breaths, his slowed down and he felt overall happy that this is how things ended.

He didn’t think he’d be lucky enough for something like this to happen to him but he’ll never take it for granted. He’ll take care of you and treat you like he should’ve been doing this whole time.

And you’ll do the exact same.

[notjustjavierpena]

Practice Makes Perfect

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: You know I had to. Can you tell I have studied rhetorics at uni?

Summary: You are Mr. Ted Garcia’s political advisor and you help him with practicing his upcoming speech.

Pairing: Ted Garcia x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, oral sex m receiving, strip tease, dirty talk, verbal humiliation, praise kink, come swallowing, face-fucking

Word count: 2.4k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54597913

Practice Makes Perfect

“Go over it again,” you order as you are perched on the desk, one leg crossed over the other by the knee and your red-bottom stiletto dangling from your toes. You are gripping the edge of the table, and whereas your position looks downright sinful, the smile on your face sports innocence, “Go on, Mr. Re-elected Mayor.”

Ted whips around to face you, reaching up to loosen the knot on his tie. He smiles, a little uncertain of what to make of you, “You don’t know that yet, sweetheart.”

“I know you won’t win the reelection if you don’t practice,” you shrug your shoulders and then move your hands to lean back on your arms. 

“I’ve gone over it a million times,” he says with a sigh, “Would much rather call it a day and order some food. We haven’t had Chinese in a while, have we?”

“Ted,” you stop him, “I need the speech tomorrow to be absolutely flawless. I’m your advisor; it’ll reflect badly on me if you stumble. Not to mention, I’m a woman so I have to work twice as hard to earn the public’s respect. They probably think you hired me to suck cock. That’s what they’re saying anyway.”

“Didn’t I?” He jokes and steps towards you. 

You glare at him but there’s no malice in it, “I could get you fired for that statement, you know.”

“I should fire you for being so distracting,” he retorts. When he gets close enough, he reaches out to curl a strong hand around your thigh and uncrosses your legs. He steps between them but you shake your head when he tries to lean over you. 

“Go over it again,” you repeat. You lean back a little further until you are able to lift your leg and place your heel on his chest, pushing him backward and away from you. He follows your silent order of staying back but still grabs your ankle hard enough to make you shiver. 

“From the top,” you say to not lose face. 

“And if I don’t, Ms. Advisor?” He challenges. 

“You’ll regret it,” you tease him by sounding almost bored, “Try and see what happens.” 

Ted sighs and lets go of your leg, simultaneously letting go of the idea of getting to fuck you as a way of ending his work day. He moves back to the center of his office, clears his throat, and shakes his arms as if trying to loosen up his tense body, “Right, let’s give it another go.”

You cross your legs again and wait. He is going to have no idea what hits him. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, citizens of our beloved city, as I stand before you today, I am filled with hope and optimism for the future of our city…” He begins and his tone is laced with a charm that you know better than to believe. Others, however, will eat it up. 

“Very good, Ted,” you praise when he is a few more lines in. He meets your eyes for approval, a playful smirk on his lips. You wipe it off his face not a moment after, having reached up to unbutton your shirt until it falls open and reveals your lace bra, “Continue.”

Ted’s gaze shamelessly lingers on your chest for a few seconds before he does as he is told. It is so easy, like Pavlov’s dog.

“We stand at a crossroads, where the decisions we make today will shape the trajectory of our city for generations to come,” he speaks with confidence, fuelled by the shirt falling off your shoulders and pooling around you on the desk. He looks deep in thought as he tries to remember the keywords that guide him forward in his speech but when you let a shoe fall to the floor, only to let the other one follow, he looks up to satisfy his curiosity, “And I believe that embracing technology is not just an option, but a necessity if we are to thrive in the 21st century.”

“God, you are killing it, Mr. Garcia,” you are only in your skirt and bra now but the bra won’t stay on for much longer. You reach up behind you to unclasp it but there’s no follow-through. You raise a brow in disapproval, “Well?”

“Fuck, where was I?” He runs a hand through his hair. You don’t blame him for forgetting because he doesn’t seem to have blood in his brain right now; it appears to have gone south where he is tenting in his suit pants. 

“A mayor doesn’t swear,” you tut with a little shake of your head, hand still in a waiting position to expose your tits to him. You decide to help him, “My vision for our city…”

“My vision for our city is one where technology serves as a catalyst for positive change!” His voice is slightly louder than normal as if relief floods him because he knows by now that remembering will get him to see you naked. He straightens, “Where innovation brings economic growth, and where every person has the opportunity to succeed.”

You undo your bra and let the straps fall down your arms until you teasingly drop it onto the floor. Your breasts are exposed to the air conditioning unit sending out cold air in the mayor’s office, immediately causing your nipples to harden at the temperature drop. You let out a teasing moan and jump off the desk to make your tits bounce obscenely, “I wanna hear more, Ted. Please.”

“I— uhh,” his gaze is fixed on your chest.

You place a hand on the skirt’s zipper along your side, teasingly pulling it down along your thigh. It seems to kickstart his memory again, “Where smart infrastructure optimizes traffic flow, reduces energy consumption for a greener future, and - Jesus, baby - and thus enhances public safety. A city where access to high-speed internet and the newest devices is not a luxury, but a fundamental right…”

“God, you are so sexy like this,” you say with a grin, hoping that he catches onto the way your eyes drop to his mouth when he speaks, “Nearly convincing me, baby.”

You start to wiggle your hips to get out of your pencil skirt, causing your whole body to shake as you move the fabric down over your legs. It makes Mayor Candidate Ted Garcia’s whole brain go dumb because he stops reciting his speech altogether and simply admires the way your breasts jump with every movement of your lower body. 

“Did I tell you to stop?” You ask when the skirt lies in the pile with your bra and shoes. You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your matching lace panties, “Just a little more.”

“But you’re nearly undressed,” he points out and hits his chest to clear his throat when his voice seems to have gone up an octave. He looks almost pained when you stop any motion to step out of your underwear. 

“Listen, here’s what’s going to happen,” you move to stand in front of him with only inches between the two of you, “You’ll make the rest of the speech I wrote with your sexy, big cock in my mouth, and I won’t make you finish until you’re finished.”

Ted swallows thickly. He nods and tries to be cocky one last time during your relentless teasing, “You sure I didn’t hire you because of your fellatio skills?” 

“Why don’t you use your own tongue instead of worrying about mine and make those little words roll off it?” You bite back, “One more line.” 

“H-however, embracing technology is about a lot more than just improving efficiency,” he tries his best not to stutter too much. Oh, you cannot wait to hear him lose it when you close your lips around his beautiful cock. 

“Mhm, what’s it about then?” You encourage. The panties come off then, pooling around your feet until you kick them to the side. 

“It's also about fostering a culture of innovation and entrepreneurship,” he replies with his eyes between your thighs to watch your throbbing cunt. Despite your cool demeanor, you have never wanted him more than right now, and seeing him desperate and faltering because of something you have done is a feeling out of this world. 

You sink to your knees with a dirty smile, keeping your eyes on him the whole time to watch the satisfying sight of his burning desire corrupting his concentration. You wish to tell him that he is so good today, that he hadn’t lied about going over the speech a million times. 

You settle for showing it instead, undoing the button on his black slacks and then the zipper. He twitches behind the fabric. You are salivating by now, aching between your thighs to taste him on your tongue. You pull out his cock with little effort, grinning mischievously up through your lashes as it springs free and nearly hits your cheek. 

“I’ll start dripping on your floor if you get it right, don’t you want that?” You say it and then start to gather spit in your mouth, preparing yourself for his generous size to slide past your lips. 

“I want that,” he breathes, “Fuck yes, I want that.”

“Then tell me what you envision,” you hint and then you take him into your hot, waiting mouth. He tastes so fucking good, heavy on your tongue as you relax your jaw until he stabs the back of your throat. 

He sucks in a breath as you hollow your cheeks and slowly pull off, only to repeat the move again and again, “I envision our city attracting the brightest minds from around the globe to come—“

You hum around his girth at the choice of word, a giggle bubbling up in your throat. The vibration of your noise makes Ted settle a hand on top of your bobbing head, ready to yank if it becomes too much and he needs release right then and there. He corrects himself professionally but falters once more because you moan at the taste of his precome oozing from the tip, “I mean work together and create the next huge— b-big thing.”

You reach underneath his dick to cup his balls and massage them in your palm, working your lips up and down his shaft simultaneously. You have to breathe deeply through your nose, resulting in your neck muscles tightening slightly while he speaks. 

Ted moans out loud for the first time then, having gone past simply stuttering and swearing. He looks down at you with a slack jaw, and when he stays quiet for just a little too long, you start to pull off. He sounds panicked, yelling out a no. 

“Of course, with great technological advancements come great responsibilities. We must be vigilant in protecting the privacy and security of our citizens,” as soon as he starts again, you go back into it with even more enthusiasm, removing your hand from his balls to reach up and grip his hip. You pull at it to show him what you want, and he breaks the long streak he has had with simply reciting his speech for tomorrow, “You want me to fuck that dirty little mouth? Huh?”

You moan in confirmation, nodding with his cock far down your throat. The eyes you send him have him breathing hard and nodding repeatedly, doing an experimental thrust, “Yeah, that’s what you want. You just wanna please your local elected official, you little slut.” 

He can’t fail now. You furrow your brow up at him, trying to look displeased despite how wet you are right there on the floor. He catches on, tries his best to talk comprehensively whilst sliding wetly and repeatedly past the very tight space at the back of your mouth, “R-right, where was I? Shit, that’s right. That's why I will do everything in my power to implement the correct measures and promote trans - fuuuck - parency.”

You press your thighs together when you hear him moan through the end of his speech. He sounds so sexy that you can’t imagine stopping even if he doesn’t get to the last word, and you whimper around his thick cock to push him closer to the edge. 

It’s the first tear that falls from your eye that has him on the brink but he still powers through, “Together, we can use the power of technology to build a city where innovation knows no bounds, and where the sky is truly the limit.”

You are sure it looks like you’ve pissed yourself with how wet you are by now, a patch having formed underneath your dripping cunt. You move your hips to find some kind of friction but to no avail. Above you, Ted rounds off his speech.

“So I ask you, my fellow citizens - fuck, honey, I’m gonna come… I’m gonna come right in your pretty mouth, ah, ah, a-almost - uhh, to join me on this journey towards a brighter future,” he thrusts his hips even faster at this point, his pitch climbing until he is whining instead of talking. The way you can feel his pulse on your lips lets you know that he isn’t lying, so you allow him to fuck your throat frantically even if it hurts a little, “Let us embrace technology with open arms, and together, we will— we will— shit, we will build a city that we can be proud to call home. Thank you!”

He comes as soon as he has said those last two words, and they become his mantra as he spills down your throat with several twitches of his cock that simply will not stop, “Thank you, oh fuck, thankyouthankyouthankyou.”

You swallow greedily, sucking him completely clean until he shakes his head in oversensitivity and pulls out of your mouth. He tastes like himself and power, enough to get you drunk. 

“You are fucking fantastic,” he groans when tucking himself back into his pants. He crouches down to meet you at eye level, marveling at the way you are practically fucking yourself onto the air, “My sweet girl.”

“Fuck, I need you,” you pant with tear-streaked cheeks. 

“Here’s an idea since I did so well,” he starts, reaching into his pocket to hand you his phone, “How about you call and order us some food and I rub your cute little clit while you do it? Then we’ll see who is the real professional orator here.”

You want to reply but you can barely press the number of his favorite Chinese place and you almost come the second he touches between your thighs. 

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[i-heart-yellowstone]

John Dutton with wife reader. Him teaching her how to ride a horse and she keeps falling from the horse which he would catch her. You decide how it ended. Can be anything. Tag me later!!! Thanks!! :))

Always Allow Some Help

Tags [ @kmc1989 @tallrock35 @pear-1206

“I’m not sure the horse is going to like me. They only ever liked my sister. That’s why she’s the one running the ranch after all.” I eyed the tan horse in the pen in front of me while my husband, you could say named John Dutton, was getting his horse ready for him to ride.

He tossed the saddle over quickly tying the different straps together in place before moving over to the horse I was going to ride and doing the same thing. “You don’t need to worry. Nobody ever knew if a horse was going to like being ridden until one day someone have enough guts to do just that.”

“If you say so, cowboy. So what exactly do I have to do? It's been a while since I've rode a horse.” I rubbed my hands down my forearms feeling uneasy when he leads my horse over by the reins he was holding in his hands.

John came up behind me offering out his hand that was extended for me with a wooden box sitting beside my horse since I wasn’t as tall as he was and so I needed some assistance. “Just put your right foot in the strup and swing your leg over the other side of the saddle.” He explained where watches me lift my body up onto the horse and I swung my left leg over the saddle, shifting until I felt comfortable on it.

“Follow me, darling.” John declared easily climb onto his own horse with such ease. He kicked his horse in its belly riding off in the direction of the main gate and I followed after him.

During the ride I pushed my cowgirl hat further down onto my head with my body bouncing in every direction it felt like. “Woah! J - John.” I called nervously feeling my butt sliding off the saddle where I nearly fell onto the ground.

“Careful back there. You gotta bounce with the horse.” He reminded me.

I nodded trying to keep up beside his horse where I felt myself sliding off the saddle again where I tugged the reins trying to keep myself on the horse. Yet the horse noticed slightly standing up on its back legs and throwing me off with me landing on my side. “John! Ow - I thought I was getting better.”

“Y/n, are you hurt badly?” He questioned me riding over to me, concern across his face.

Pushing myself up to stand he led my horse back over to me holding onto the reins of mine. “I think I’m okay. I just wish I didn’t appear like I have never rode a horse before.”

“It takes time when you’ve been away for a bit. Don’t worry you’ll get the hang of it back in no time.” John reassured me by waiting until I was seated back on my horse, reminding me of another tip. “I wanna see if this helps you. Are you open to some advice?”

I nodded my head yes in agreement, knowing my husband meant well. “From you, always.”

“You’ve been bouncing against the horse. All right.” He raised his freehand in the air bringing his hand down while he explained. “When the horse bounces up, let it stand you in the stirrups. And when it comes down, sit back in the saddle. Let’s try that.”

Sucking in a breath we slowly started riding forward and I raised my body up with and down with the horse exactly like he had just told me. John tugged on his reins and I did the same until we paused our riding with a glance from him. “So how does that feel now. Do you still feel like you’re going to fall off?”

“It’s a lot better. Thank you.” I smiled before a light smirk crossed my lips. “What would you say to a horse race? First one to the graveyard wins and the loser has to put both horses up in the barn.”

John chuckled, sending me a grin, kicking his horse and taking off quickly. “You’re on!”

Kicking my horse in the belly he starts galloping faster as I hold tightly on the reins loving the excitement this brings me chasing after the rancher in front of me. The wind blew through my loose hair when I passed my husband getting to the edge of the graveyard before I noticed my horse starts neighing and halting in its tracks. "What is it, boy. What do you hear?" I asked brushing its mane as it sticks its nose down smelling.

Suddenly my horse shuffled its hooves backwards in terror. I pull the reins a little searching the ground around but not finding anything. "Easy boy. It's okay." But the next thing I now my horse shrieks bending on its hind legs throwing me off. I drop into the grass and dirt. I grunt seeing my horse run off further away from the ranch. My hat's on the ground as I try to get up but dropped knowing I couldn’t chase after the horse on foot. Something hisses closely in my eyes I see a rattle snake in my face. "Oh shit!" I mumbled under my breath as it nearly bites me.

But a gunshot goes off near me and it drops dead on my feet. Whipping my head in the direction of where the gunfire came from I see John on a horse his shotgun in his hands. "J - John..." I gasped still in shock from the moment.

"Y/n, sweetheart. I thought you were right beside me until I saw your abandoned horse run past mine." He slowly walked over, dismounting his horse holding out an open hand for me to take.

I stood up on my feet with his assistance before I asked, pointing in the direction of where the animal had ran off in. “Thanks. Are we going to go after the horse?”

“Nah. Rip and the bunkhouse cowboys are working in the closet field. They’ll catch it and bring it back to the barn for us.” He shook his head no, scooting back on his saddle gesturing with his head for me to climb on in front of him. “Let’s head back to the house. I owe you a cooked meal after all you did win the race.”

I grunted climbing up onto the saddle of his horse sending him a weak look feeling guilty for what had happened. “John, you don’t have to cook considering my horse got spooked and ran off. Plus you saved my life from that rattle snake.”

“Don’t worry about the horse and I am a man of my word. So I’ll make dinner like we agreed on.” The older cowboy said tucking some hair behind my ear, taking the reins.

I leaned my body back against his chest giving him a quick kiss before we made our way back to the main house to go eat dinner. “You’re a good man, John.”

“Only because you bring out the best parts of me, Y/n.” He kissed the side of my head, having enjoyed his evening ride with you more than he had with anyone else in the past.

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Heyyyy, omg can I ask for nsfw headcanons for haitani brothers, hanma, baji, kawata brother and shion with a reader who has a extremely high libido 😼

TokRev x High Libido!Reader

♡ NSFW, fem reader, pet names, roughness + fluff, praise + degradation, Hanma lowkey being a jackass ♡

Characters: Ran, Rin, Hanma, Baji, Nahoya, Souya, Shion

note: Just some short headcanons, thank you anon 🩷

note 2: Writing smut while I'm on my period is so therapeutic for some reason

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Ran

💜 Doesn't mind your high libido because he has one too

💜 Mutual masturbation + phone sex

💜 Teases you when you're needy

💜 Lazy morning sex 🔛🔝

💜 He lets you ride him as soon as he wakes up

"My pretty baby~ so needy for me early in the morning ♡"

Rindou

🩵 Soft boi hours fr

🩵 Eats you out before he fucks you

🩵 Fucks you like he loves you because he does

🩵 Praises you nonstop and loves listening to you whimper and moan for more

🩵 Doesn't stop til you tell him to even if he's tired, he lives to please you

"It's okay princess, imma make you cum okay?"

Hanma

🏵️ Teases you about your high sex drive and laughs when you get upset

🏵️ Doesn't let you touch yourself because you're his to touch

🏵️ Lets you sit in his lap and grind yourself on him

🏵️ Degrades you while you beg for him to fuck you

"Aww my little slut wants me to fuck her? You're gonna have to beg me better than that baby ♡"

Baji

🪷 Bites you during sex to mark you as his, you always wake up the next day looking like you were the main dish at a vampire buffet

🪷 Loves when you leave nail marks down his back (he'd proudly show them off to Chifuyu too 💀)

🪷 Laughs at you when you beg for him to fuck you because he was going to even if you didn't beg

🪷 Eats you out til you're overstimulated

"What's wrong cutie? You begged me for it and now you're a whiny little mess~"

Nahoya

🌟 Thigh riding + ass slapping (he'd probably slap your pussy too if you let him)

🌟 Grips your thighs hard enough to leave marks

🌟 Likes when you pull on his hair, takes it as a sign to be rougher

🌟 Curses the whole time you two fuck

"Fuck baby, pussy gripping me fucking so good. I'm gonna make sure you can't walk in the morning ~"

Souya

💠 Doesn't mind your high sex drive, but his is definitely lower

💠 Moans louder than you when you fuck, you're just so tight and warm

💠 Loves when you ride him, especially when he gets home from working at the ramen shop, it's a great stress reliever

💠 He'll let you keep riding him even if he's tired and overstimulated, he just wants you to feel good

"You look so beautiful on top of me babygirl, keep going til you're satisfied~"

Shion

🖤 He may be a violent delinquent, but he's a major softie for you

🖤 Obsessed with your high sex drive and always makes time to fuck you

🖤 Prefers to fuck in private, but will do it in public if you beg him enough

🖤 He whimpers when you suck him off

🖤 Has to go slow when he fucks you so he doesn't cum too fast, but you always end up fucking yourself onto his cock faster

"Shit! Slow down please, I ain't tryna cum just yet pretty girl~"

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Tagging @arlerts-angel and @i-literally-cant-with-this

[v1x3n]

✮⋆˙ - NAILS

simon 'ghost' riley ⸝⸝ navigation ⸝⸝ goth masterlist ୨୧ tags : smut

୨୧ 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 : simon loves you and your long nails<3

“fuck!'' Simon moans into your ear, banging your insides out as your long, black nails stab into his back. Scratching the surface and creating small cuts around his back, the tingles and pain turning Simon on more and more, “’m gonna cum, ‘m gun’ inside you" he sings out as the nails scrape him more. Thrusting at an ungodly speed, in and out and repeating. The lewd, disgusting squelching noises progressively got louder.

His hands held your body down, both arms caging you with his massive size - no matter what size you were he always was bigger. Your whines swirled out of your mouth as if you were saying a delicate poem - beautiful.

The heat inside your cunt warmed his length up as the walls around it tightened the closer you got to an orgasm. "S-si" you whisper, bringing one hand to his face and stroking his cheek while the other drags further up his back, the marks glowing red. New and fresh.

The scars were not like his other scars. Other ones brought new dreadful memories - always at the back of his brain. Coming out at the darkest moments, his body was a folder for his past and his trauma. But now you were here his body was a new feeling, a feeling of knowing how fucking good you felt because of him. No one else.

Your thumb wiped across his cheek, trying to be as careful as possible to not cut him. It wouldn't matter if you did, you just kinda wanted to walk after this. You wouldn't say Simon has a pain kink - but he definitely has a pain kink. Each new mark creates a new boner, needing you to be there under him just for him to use. Simon groans as he gets slowly, calming down his movements, not wanting to finish this just yet.

Yelping as his movements go painfully slow and his hand moves from next to your head and down to your cunt. Hitting the small, sensitive nub that just needed pleasure and a release. Slapping it a few times, speeding up so your moans just constantly repeat. As if his hand was some sort of machine, it doesn't stop, it just goes faster. "S-stop" whining loudly, and when he does stop he makes you suck his finger. Sloppily sucking it like something bad was gonna happen if you didn't, if your life was on the line. Sucking it like your last ever meal, making sure you get every spot.

Spit everywhere - flowing down his fingers onto his knuckles. His hips connect with you, hard, while you groan against his fingers. Your eyes water when he shoves it further down your throat, small tears spiking from your eyes. Blinking once and the tears flow down your face, a small wet line trickling down. And then his finger was wet enough he brings it down to your clit and taps it at a ridiculous tempo. His hips disconnect from yours just to be brought back again and again. “’m close darl” moaning once more as your nails jab into your skin and rip the layers. Leaning his head back into your touch, your hand trailing down his face to his neck. Slightly holding it just not rough enough to be actually choking.

Just at that moment his hot, thick cum spurts into your pretty cunt, making a sticky mess as the cog in your tummy comes undone- the tight knot snapping while you two finish at the same time. Gasping into each others mouths as he lowers himself. You smile sweetly as does he.

comment to join main taglist!

[xxsycamore]

OFFICE ACTIVITIES

╰┈➤ ❝ That's why I can't go on with my day before I do this to you. I need to see you squirt on my fingers, and I need it now. ❞

Roy Mustang x f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Office Sex; Secret Workplace Relationship; Semi-Public Sex; risky sex; Desk Sex; Sexual Fantasy; Dirty Talk; a lot of dirty talk; Teasing; Kink Negotiation; Glove Kink; ROY'S GLOVES; you know where they're going; Hand & Finger Kink; Finger Sucking; mouth fucking (w fingers); Begging; Praise Kink; Pet Names; Roy is both rough and very loving; Female Ejaculation; Squirting; and i mean SQUIRTING; squirting is the main focus of this fic; Vaginal Fingering; Multiple Orgasms; Overstimulation; Masturbation; Vaginal Sex; Creampie; Kissing; Neck Kissing; Aftercare; Some Humor; Light Dom/sub; Dominant Roy; Dacryphilia • wordcount: 5,211 • masterlist

"Colonel, you wanted to see me—"

"Lock the door."

Blinking, you look at Roy's silhouette where he remains with his back to you in his chair, facing the windows of the sunlit office. You do a small bow while complying like a good subordinate, even when he won't see it, and lock the door from the inside. Still, you can't help but let out a small sigh. The pile of paperwork on his desk is bigger than what you saw this morning, when you expected to find it at least halved by now. But alas. And while everyone is away taking care of their own duties, you have the office to yourselves today, so locking the door is hardly necessary…

"With all due respect Colonel, you really, really don't have to hide the fact that I'm helping you with paperwork. I'm sure everyone knows by now."

Roy spins in his chair bossily, raising a hand to signal he doesn't want to hear more. "I'm not going to ask you to do that."

"No, seriously, it's okay, I-"

"Come here."

You do as told, ready to take the load he'll hand you from another pile, or something else to be taken care of in his stead, anything, really. He's in the habit of procrastinating often, you know your Colonel well. There is something almost endearing about it, when he doesn't realize how bad he is at masking it.

He's gesturing you to stand not in front of his desk but rather to join his side, and you do, finding yourself close enough to notice even how the irritation colors his gaze to make it fiercer. Once you're where he summoned you, Roy removes the folder he was holding in his lap and throws it on the desk.

This tricks you into thinking that the folder is the object of importance in this exchange. When your eyes shift to those of the Colonel for further cues as to what is wanted of you, your attention is inevitably stolen.

Roy's blue uniform trousers are tented with an obvious erection.

Face heating up, you quickly close your slightly agape mouth and try to look anywhere else, and disastrously you meet his gaze. Judging by the way he does nothing to hide the fact that he has a noticeable hard-on, or by the way he looks you right in the eye, you have the feeling that you'll get to live another day. Then he speaks again.

"I can't work like that."

His tone is stern, not even a whisper; something akin to one of his less-straightforward orders that would see him click his tongue when failed to comprehend by the other party.

And you don't want to disappoint.

"I understand. You can't work like that indeed, Colonel…"

And you do understand. If he went this far, then that's all you need to understand that you're allowed to lower your guard now.

It's all so natural with you when Roy beckons you into his lap, and you don't lose time maneuvering yourself because you've claimed this seat dozens of times already; your Colonel has a high sex drive. Despite being lovers after work hours, he still needs you during the day, when you're stuck playing this game of pretend. Or maybe that part is exactly what entices him?

Claiming his lips for an impatient kiss, you can't help the small grunt that escapes your throat as soon as Roy's hands begin roaming and foundling about your chest.

The worst part, you never get used to this.

With color on your cheeks, you try your hardest not to hump his leg and miss entirely the point of your being summoned here. You place another chaste kiss on his lips, boldly taking the decision of when enough is enough as you nudge things forward. Undoing the first button of his uniform, you make place for your lips to touch the heated skin underneath. To feel his hot pulse under your tongue as you place kitten licks there.

Roy's curiosity leaves him enjoying the show as you find your footing again, removing yourself from his lap and instead sinking to your knees with a thud. Your hands make their way downward on his torso and then fall on his thighs, his clothed arousal right in front of you.

"You should've told me sooner, Colonel… I could sneak under your desk, I could even stay there while you attempt to take care of those documents… With the way I'm hidden, surely the door doesn't even need to be locked."

You time your suggestion with palming the tent of his trousers, eager to feel how your words get to his head. But he only smirks.

"As much as I feel compelled, no."

It leaves you confused as you stand between Roy's legs. It's rare for him to refuse a blowjob, the balance of powers in this game of teasing is once again off in favor of his striking dominance.

"On the desk. Now."

Pulse quickening, you find your head clouded when you rise to your feet again. Roy all but backs you onto the desk with his body, your legs parting to make space for him in between.

His backlit frame only highlights the darkness of his eyes as he has you cornered; you prop yourself up on your elbows and wait for something, anything.

"You know, you're the reason I can't do my work right now. I've been thinking about you again. About fingering you."

Fuck. This close up, you're sure he can observe even the tiniest of bodily reactions he rips out of you with words alone. The slight twitching of your leg, the way your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you realize you're at fault for his hard-on. The expectation in your wide eyes that are pleading him to share the images birthed by his brilliant mind that led to this.

"That's why I can't go on with my day before I do this to you. I need to see you squirt on my fingers, and I need it now."

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you swear you can feel the blood pumping in your veins turn to liquid fire as you burn from the inside. Something deep in your belly awakens, steals your resolve and fills your mind with cries of hunger.

Roy wants to make you squirt; to send your body into tremors overpowering your very control of it until you're helpless and making a mess of his hand, of possibly everything - the thought is almost scary, for reasons unknown to you, and you shiver. The signals your brain unwittingly sends south make you feel a certain pressure rooted deep within your core - as if, almost by his spoken command alone, your body can obey and leak arousal through the layers of clothing that you want gone now.

And so you begin to undress, making him chuckle with your impatience. He meets your hands halfway and easily takes over with his much steadier ones, unshaken by building lust unlike you - even if his firm erection which is now pressing against your thigh says otherwise.

He mutters something about how much easier this process would be if you were wearing a miniskirt right now and not those troublesome uniform pants - and the distraction returns some blood to your head as you exaggerate a sigh followed by a tiny laughter. It makes the task of taking off your uniform jacket and unbuttoning your shirt easier.

Unlike the hushed pace of removing the article of clothing, Roy noticeably slows down while peeling the underwear off your lower half, enjoying how he renders you naked and completely on display before him. He pokes a firm index finger on your glistening folds to part them, and you can see his gaze clouding with desire as he inspects the wetness seeping from your core.

Before you can avert your eyes, he locks his with yours. The gentle caress of his warm palm on your belly right over your womb startles you.

"Do you think you can do this for me?"

The whine coming from deep in your throat surprises you, and you feel as if you can get off on this simple, chaste sensation alone. Your pussy throbs in neglect.

"Please."

Roy mocks you just a little bit with his laughter for receiving pleas in place of an answer. Even if it works just about alright with him.

Instead of feeling his fingertips returning to your folds, upon withdrawing, you hear a desk drawer opening. Willing your heart to take the chance and relax, your eyes follow Roy's ministrations as much as they can. He takes something from the drawer and - to your utter surprise, it's a new pair of white pyrotex gloves.

Your legs twitch in a manner of closing, instinctively, as you stare at Roy confused.

"Don't play coy now, I know you've always wanted this. You can't take your eyes off my hands when I'm wearing those."

You puffer your bottom lip, defeated. He's way too observant. Or you're way too horny when it comes to this, to him. Especially now that the only thing you can call the display of his fingers pushing their way inside to find their designated places, vain at the back of his hand protruding, ministrations rougher and rushed because he's not touch you right now, is simply pornographic. They look so good on him, stressing the deftness and length of his beautiful fingers, the flame alchemy transmutation circles at the back stark red to remind they're no ordinary gloves.

"But… isn't this…"

"Dangerous? You think I'd put you in danger?"

There's irony in that line when it comes out of the mouth of Roy Mustang putting on the gloves that give him the name of the Flame Alchemist, but you can will your brain into pushing through the surface to see the offering of trust here. Especially because he is so dangerous is that line so delightful, stroking the trust of your heart that would let him do everything, anything to you.

Combined with his touch returning to caress your skin, this time on the inside of your thigh, you genuinely relax - but only for a second, because you're now busy trying to commit to memory every second of feeling the texture of his gloves on your naked, sensitive skin.

"Besides… I thought you love to say that they're useless when wet."

. . . . .

"Pfft—"

"Are you laughing now?" Roy's eyebrow arches as he stares you down, one part genuine disappointment, one part overemphasis as he knows you'll only laugh harder at his reaction. And laughter is a good balm for relieving the nervousness that made your belly noticeably tense up and cave into itself.

His thoughtfulness goes mostly unnoticed as your laughter quickly morphs into another whine as Roy's glove-clad hand brushes against your arousal. The touch is feather-light, yet when looking down you can unmistakably see the glistening juices on the tip of his middle finger where he used it to swipe along the slit of your pussy.

"Have you fantasized about this before?"

Roy is awful for ending most of what he says with the curve of a question, giving tasks to your brain that are a little too hard to take on. He drives your mind to a place inside the darkest nooks and corners of your perverse imagination where you see yourself stealing his gloves to masturbate with. Or where he's letting out his frustrations on you, you being dragged in an ally just meters away from where some bastard managed to run away from him, tarnishing his plans. You love how he fights but manages to never get his hands dirty. Being dragged to these dangerous missions that give you the chance to see him in action never fails to mix pure, incontrollable desire with the adrenaline running through your veins.

"Yes…" You confess in a tiny voice, and Roy rewards you with another barely-there touch, even if it aims not to bring you pleasure but to simply coat his fingers in your juices and prepare them for penetration. Roy raises them up for you to see. You're already wetter than when you'd finish fingering yourself to the thought of him, and it makes your face red with embarrassment.

"How unfair. I remember being way more concrete when sharing what goes in my mind than you, just now. But I will allow it… you seem to have a hard time forming coherent words right now."

Your brain goes haywire with the rising expectation of feeling him either on your clit or inside you first - the seconds stretching out endlessly before he finally makes his attack, the tip of his middle finger rubbing the tense muscles of your entrance.

Roy is careful as he pushes his finger in, having a good idea about the impact of this long-awaited exploration of the material of the gloves in your most sensitive place.

You're erratic, body spasming to suck him in deeper and pelvic arching to scratch the itch you have deep inside. The fabric adds a delicious layer of thickness to his already girthy finger, but…

"Not- enough— More…!"

Roy clicks his tongue. "You're way too impatient. I'm already being so generous to you, pushing my fingers inside you to give you what you want. Perhaps you can learn from a little exercise before we continue."

Roy's finger exits your heat roughly, in vivid contrast to how he entered you, bringing forth more wetness that helplessly leaks on the office desk. You exhale heavily in defeat, pleading Roy with a wet gaze. He remains unwavering, like training a dog that refuses to obey, and raises his other, dry hand to your face with fingers stretched forward.

The little cute tilt of your head has him letting out a mocking sneaker, and he suppresses the need to scold you for needing verbal orders as well.

"Suck."

Following every little twitching of your pupils as your eyes get hazed with the desire to worship him, Roy is not sure if your mouth falls open to moan or to take him in first. Either way, his fingertips already register the softness of your lips, even through the texture of the glove.

You part your lips further with the intention to fit two of his fingers in your mouth, and Roy allows it. Your tongue explores them, tracing over the seam running down the sides, then the junction of his index and middle fingers. You suck there, barely remembering to look Roy in the eye like you wanted to instead of remaining with your eyes closed in bliss.

He looks… aroused. With how much composure he possesses, the thought of how, in turn, you might look right now scares you. But you can't do anything about it - this, too, is a major fantasy of yours. And it only gets better.

Withdrawing with a wet pop, next you hope to fit another finger in, if Roy is willing to bring them closer together, and he quickly gets the idea.

This is his left hand that he uses to do this to your mouth, and he is still so very skillful with it. He tricks you into thinking you could do whatever you want with his three fingers in your mouth, but as soon as you lower your guard, Roy shifts their position, grabbing your tongue.

Your eyes widen, pathetically trying to call out to him in the one moment your ability to speak is stolen. Roy enjoys the muffled sound that resembles his name and continues to hold out your tongue between his fingers, watching you begin to droll.

From there on it's easy for him to shift his fingers once more, placing them flat against your wet tongue before gathering them together again…and beginning to slide them on your tongue.

The place between your legs is burning, and it feels like torture when you already know what it feels like when he pleasures you. You'd much rather he didn't touch you there at all before this, inner walls contracting to chase after the faint memory of his single digit's shape where it was buried inside you.

Roy fucks your mouth with his gloved fingers, and you moan around them. It's a filthy display, with your cunt dripping on his desk, and he can't avert his gaze for a second.

"Enjoying yourself? Maybe I can keep doing this until you cum and we end things here?"

Alerted, you want to communicate your wish to go all the way with what he planned for you, and to speak you need to withdraw - but the second you lean back, Roy's hand pushes forward, following your movement without letting you escape.

Just before you can choke, Roy removes his fingers from your mouth, and you see how much they're covered in your saliva. The risk did things to you you're unwilling to admit.

"Okay, I get it. You need more."

Finally able to take mouthfuls of oxygen again, you feel silly for being so worked up and breathless from just this. But Roy likes what he sees, especially when you try to present your cunt better for him, spreading your legs further apart.

"You're absolutely leaking…"

"Colonel, Please…" You beg, attaching the honorific to your pleas because you know the effect it has on him. "Colonel Mustang, please fuck me with your fingers. Make me squirt."

He returns his right hand to the burning skin of the apex of your thighs, tracing along your outer lips with a small hum.

"Okay then. Let's make your cunt squirt for me."

You throw your head back a second too quickly, as the heavenly feeling of Roy entering you again domineers over the bits of decency left in you. His finger bottoms out in you, swirls around until his palm is facing downwards, and is taken out again - just for you to instead feel the tips of middle and ring fingers prodding your hole next, in the same position.

"Nghh—" You groan, remembering to breathe as Roy explores your tight insides. You begin to relax, and the movement of his fingers gradually becomes smoother. The wet sounds of his entry come to your ears every time he pushes out the way out and pushes in again, and they embarrass you a little.

After a good few strokes like this, Roy turns his hand around.

He keeps his fingers buried deep inside, unmoving save for his fingertips that begin to search around, prodding into your front wall, looking for that spongy part inside you that will make you see stars.

More heat rushes to your lower body and you let a particularly loud gasp when Roy finds it. He mutters a word of self-satisfaction and repeats the motion, hitting your G-spot.

The pleasure begins to build with a dangerous speed, and you barely contain your moans. There's still something missing, but if you receive it right now, it will be too much.

Roy knows your body and its limits well. He doesn't force the pleasure on you, and keeps a steady but slow pace. Monitoring your sweet sounds, he is careful as to when to move on to the next step.

"I'm going to touch you here next."

Narrating his ministrations, he manages to make you focus. You fix your position on the desk again, making sure to watch what he's doing.

Roy puts the thumb of his left hand flat on your clit. At first, the mere presence of it is enough to send sparks of stimulation deep inside you, creating a loop of pleasure with where his fingers are buried, but you get used to it quickly. Then, he begins to rub your aroused nub, and you go erratic once again.

"Ahh— Too much-"

"Shh, I got you." He gives you a break, simply resting his thumb there without caressing, while he focuses on thrusting his fingers in and out.

Your heavy breaths are entangling with needy moans as the pleasure builds, this damned feeling of not enough threatening to eat you up from the inside. Roy knows your body well in combination with masterfully reading your reactions, and generously gives you more when you ask for it. The balls of your feet press harder into the surface of the desk near the very edge of it, your torso lifting just a little bit, to chase after Roy's movements inside you. He lets you rock back into his fingers, more wetness coming out and lubricating his entry.

"I'm going to speed up now. Tell me if you need to stop."

You breathe heavily through your nose, nodding your head more times than he needs for confirmation, and it makes him chuckle. The corners of his lips don't stay curled for longer than a second because of his growing concentration.

The rubbing on your clit returns, and Roy's fingers don't slow down. Standing there with nowhere to escape but to receive his rough, filthy yet loving pleasuring, you grip the edge of the desk behind your back preparing yourself, as it builds up.

"Roy- it feels a bit strange—"

"In a good way? Like you wanna go?"

Your answer comes a bit late because your mouth is stuck falling open in the face of those unfamiliar sensations. You hurry to blurt it out before stops, god forbid.

"In a very good way…! Just please, don’t stop!"

Not needing to be told twice, Roy keeps the pace, firmly hitting that same spot inside you with his fingers while rubbing on your clit. He watches your body spasm as you let out a scream, and then it happens.

Liquid begins to stream out of you, coating Roy's fingers - a small flow at first, before you all but hear the sound of a squirt escaping you.

"Mmm…" Roy grunts at the sight and the feeling of you closing up from the inside on him, fingering you through it until your body begins twitching too much. Careful not to overstimulate you, he withdraws your fingers, causing a smaller squirt to flow out.

Breathing heavily with your mouth open, you close your legs a little bit now that Roy's hands aren't between them, and you look at the puddle next to them. When you return your gaze to Roy, he's looking straight at you, leaning in for a kiss.

He's definitely not kissing you enough during all of this, but you don't feel too cocky right now to complain about that. Not when his kiss feels so rewarding.

"My good girl. I knew you could do it. Did that feel good?"

Roy drinks down your small noises of lingering satisfaction, and you whisper a breathless 'yes' before kissing him yet again. It makes you a bit too distracted, and you almost jump at the feeling of his hands parting your legs again.

"Think you could do it again?"

You look at him in disbelief, but it might be directed at yourself and the ridiculously deepening arousal you feel more than anything, your core pulsing in anticipation, aching to feel Roy's fingers again.

He knows that look. Pecking your lips with his once again, he slips his fingers in.

"Put your hands around my neck."

Your heart leaps at the command and you shift your body, grabbing into him for purchase. Your ass is on the edge of the desk now, and you're holding Roy for dear life, his broad shoulders being your anchor.

"Will it be easier for you this time, hmm? You're nice and open for me."

"Roy… don't say things like that…"

"But it's true. I love knowing that I can make your body soft and pliant, letting me do such a naughty thing with it."

You groan and shove your head in the junction of his neck and shoulder, warming the skin with your breath.

"Don't hide. Come on, kiss me."

It's easier said than done, when the sensation of what is happening between your legs rules over every coherent part of your mind. Roy knows your kiss would be lacking and sloppy, and maybe that's exactly why he wants it.

His tongue shoves between your agape lips, dominating yet another part of you as he continues to finger you while avoiding the place that is swollen and needy for his touch, as if testing if you can start leaking juices again even without the stimulation.

The strange feeling builds again, and this time you're not afraid of it. You break the kiss to plead.

"Roy…Roy! Touch me more! Now!"

Hearing the low rumble laced with dark wanton deep in his throat, you roll your eyes to the back of your head as he begins stroking your clit again.

Your moans of his name grow from encouraging to warning, as you feel the water balloon deep in your core close to popping once again. And then it happens.

Large portions of liquid fall noisily to the floor, mixing up with the sound of water squirting out of your body. Tears form in the corners of your eyes as a purely physiological reaction, the pleasure playing a big part in it.

Roy's large palm is so warm as it moves up and down whole, unlike how he'd only move his fingers earlier, and you feel played like an instrument; like you're close to witnessing the true strength in him that you lustfully admire finally inflicted on your body - in the most perverse, but loving and safe kind of ways.

"Gods— I can't tear my eyes off of you. Look at you."

Planting his forehead against yours, your eyes trail from his beautiful lashes up close to the place he's admiring, and you have to fight a surge of embarrassment. This is what he made out of you, you're so very his in this moment.

"Roy…—Ahh-"

He speeds up again, not having left your core for a moment, and you feel yourself starting to do it all over again, even if it's more of a current flowing out of you instead of the earlier powerful jets. What builds up inside you is different this time, a feeling you know all too well, something that you were lingering along the surface of for the past few minutes but that was always pushed to the back of your nerves in the face of the new, unfamiliar sensations.

"Come for me. Come on my fingers."

Roy fingers you silly, your walls clamping down on him as he does it just the way you love, no tricks this time to conquer your body, he just gives it to you. And you take it oh so willingly and greedily.

It takes no time for you to reach the heavens, and you moan out his name once again, feeling the electricity of an orgasm surge through every nook and corner of your being, toes curling in pleasure.

Roy holds you through it, making sure you ride your high all the way. Towards the end of it, your leaking hole begins helplessly pushing out more liquid.

"Roy— Too much—Roy-"

"Fuck." He curses as he slowly withdraws his fingers, noticing how thickly they're covered in your warm juices all the way down his palm. He enters you with one finger to tease just a little, meeting no resistance. "Fuck." He repeats as he reaches down to palm his bulge. He moves to his belt and begins undoing it in a hurry.

Pulse beginning to drum in your ears, you continue holding onto his tall frame as your eyes widen. Just how worked up did that make him? You figure he must be painfully hard by now, watching you perform the one thing that would get him erect relying on fantasies alone.

Wrapping the hand dripping with your juices around his cock, he uses the slick to lubricate his pumps as he pleasures himself at the sight of you. It lights a new fire inside you and you can't help but watch; the reddened head of his cock, the vein running down his side protruding with the rush of blood, and his culmination dragging closer.

He lies you back down on the desk and you place your hands below your hips, opening up more for him, so Roy can get a nice view of your still swollen lips and pulsing hole. He moves in closer, bringing his strokes so close to your pussy that it makes you clench down so hard when he accidentally brushes the tip against your inner thigh.

"You're perfect. So perfect for me- Haah—"

You rarely hear him let out more than a grunt, a man in control of himself even in the face of consuming wanton. It's rewarding, knowing that it's you who turned him into that. There's nothing more that you want right now than to watch him spill all over your spent cunt, coating it with his warm cum.

Roy keeps stroking, and you wonder if he's fallen prey to the heightened stimulation of the gloves too, seeing that he didn’t bother to take them off even after making use of the juices coating them. It could be this that works him to orgasm so soon, or it could be everything else combined with it, but you soon hear the familiar sounds of him losing control.

In the next moment he erupts, hot-white pleasure reaching to his very gaze as you see him taking in the sight of you hungrily. Warm ropes of cum land on you one after another as Roy pumps his cock, the swollen tip kissing your sensitive folds.

He loses the inner fight and presses forwards, pushing the bulbous head of his cock inside you, moaning as another gush of semen leaves him and fills you with scorching warmth.

You mewl at the unexpected contact, shudders of pleasure rippling through your body as you continue to feel his cum even after he removes his cock from inside you. You feel it drip out thickly, mixing with the rest of the mess left by your passionate session.

"Kiss me, Roy!"

"So demanding…" Hurrying to comply with your weak, adorable command, Roy seals your lips with his before you can scold or bite him. With how good he seemed to be making you feel, he's not too worried about facing those protests, though.

You and Roy remain like that for awhile, catching your breaths but losing them right anew in passionate kisses, not breaking off the contact even as he tucks himself back in his trousers and readjusts his messed-up clothes, removing his gloves as well. He tells you to wait for him as he goes to take something to clean you off with, but you just cling harder to his frame.

"Stay a little longer…"

He exaggerates a sigh but still smiles stupidly against your nape.

The late morning sun has nothing on the warmth that comes from Roy's embrace, and you bask in it.

"You know…" He begins, playing idly with your hand with his now bare one, as if he had started missing the direct touch so soon. You hum in question, and he continues.

"I want to take care of those documents even less now."

"…ROY!"

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[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

1  2  3  4  5  6 8 9 10

Chapter 7

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Arranged marriage AU

Warnings: themes of obsession and maybe possessiveness, implied thought of suicide once (1), toxic relationship/marriage, slight themes of misogynistic society (??? Probably???), implied guilt and regret, ooc Dion. Please tell me if I missed anything.

NSFW warnings: sexual fantasies (Dion: implied unprotected sex, unprotected frottage, oral (fem receiving), clit stimulation, mention of fingering), one (1) dry hump, teasing, mention/implied masturbation, offers of oral (male receiving) and handjob, slightly sexually frustrated Dion (he might die if u don’t kiss him eventually), mention/implications of non-con twice (2) (no he does not non-con you), DUB-CON. Please tell me if I missed anything.

NOTE: I gave the Reader’s brother a name because I dislike writing (family member’s name) unless it’s like the parents. Probably. Also going to tag this as smut just in case.

Main story is slightly different from the drabbles for reasons.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS/TOXIC ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY TOXIC AND DANGEROUS.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT WITH/REBLOG WITH FANDOM STUFF DNI AND PLEASE DO NOT SPAM LIKE MY POSTS. 

= = =

Something throbs against your bottom.

Breath catching in your throat, your heartbeat speeds up. Your husband doesn’t make any attempt to move, still hovering above you. He’s so close that you could feel his chest against your back with each and every exhale. Despite his… bodily reaction, he doesn’t grind against you. Doesn’t nibble on your ear or slide his hands until they’re groping at your chest, lifting you enough to do so. 

No, he just stays and his breath makes your ear tingle. You need to get out of this.

“H-hey… mind getting off? I need to change…” You wiggle a bit, aiming to escape his one-sided ‘embrace,’ if you could even call it that. Only to immediately stop once he hisses through his teeth, one hand flying to hold your hips still. You cease all actions and breathing becomes difficult. 

All is silent. 

The air becomes heavy and awkward. You dare not move. The risk of rubbing against him is high and you’d rather avoid giving him the wrong idea. Ah, but how should you go about this situation? You can’t exactly move and begging would elicit a less than desirable response from him - he likes seeing you cry, so begging might give him the same thrill. 

Seconds feel like minutes and minutes like hours. Dion doesn’t move against you nor away from you. However, his fingers dig into your hip, and you hold back the whimper from the sharp pain caused by his grasp. You’re stuck and don’t know how to escape. 

…but he is your husband. You don’t want to do that again, to be used as a fleshlight as he enjoys himself while you shake in his arms from the pain. It was humiliating. Awful. 

But your mother would tell you to go along with it. Lant would expect it. Your sister would comfort you, saying that it’s only natural, normal for married couples to engage in sexual intercourse. As for your father… he was always too awkward to discuss the subject. 

Besides, you already told him that you refuse to go through it again. That he could jack off and you would shove his sperm into your cunt so it could reach your fertile womb. 

You also don’t want to give birth to his child. However, you had no say so in that area - a child should be the result of any marriage. You scowl. While things were different in your old, modern world, things were vastly different here. A child was expected, needed in most cases. 

And this was one of them. 

His cock throbs again. 

… you could offer to jerk him off again. Maybe use your mouth if you’re feeling daring, suck on and twirl your tongue around the tip as your hands work the shaft. You’ll even swallow if it means he’ll stay far, far away from your cunt. It doesn’t matter if his cum is bitter and sour. 

When he throbs against you for the third time, you bring up your offer, your voice faltering with each word. When he takes a sharp breath, you know that you signed your death certificate. If accepted, you won’t be able to turn back.   

Wasn’t Dion Agriche supposed to be immune to sexual desires? From what you saw from spoilers, he was dense when it came to romance, so why was he acting this way? …then again, nothing about this was romantic. 

“I don’t need it.” was his response. In spite of that, he doesn’t move, voice husky and dripping with lust. You despise yourself for the shiver running down your body while your ear tingles as his breath hits it. It seems that you’re also weak to physical pleasure regardless of your wariness and fear. 

If only your body was more receptive last night. 

“Then why are you still on me? Holding my hip no less.” If your head wasn’t so fuzzy with sleep, if today had gone in a less confusing direction, would you still act the same? Or would you stay quiet as a mouse, waiting for Dion to take you while your stomach churns and you swallow bile down?

“To stop you from squirming,” he deadpans like his fingers weren’t digging into your poor hip. 

“And your hand around my throat?” 

“To see your reaction.” 

This isn’t going anywhere. You’re just running in circles as the man denies himself and keeps you in purgatory. Can’t somebody knock on the door, forcing him to get up and leave?

You think you should be more scared. You are, but it melts into something worse than annoyance. Why can’t he let you sleep? Leave you alone and pretend you don’t exist. 

“You didn’t tell me why you’re still on top of me,” pointing out as you lift your shoulder the slightest bit, silently telling him to get out of your personal space. After a pause he lets go of your neck, hoisting himself up a bit. It’s not much, but at least he isn’t as close. 

He throbs against you a fourth time. 

Please, please for the love of everything that is holy, let him calm down. No sane man would get horny after saying such awful things. 

You forgot he wasn’t sane. 

“Your reactions are interesting.” 

“... Well, you saw them - that should be enough, no?” You’re debating if you should headbut him. Tomorrow, you’re going to question your own sanity, wondering what gave you the bravery of becoming so bold. Chucking yourself into the nearest river won’t be enough. 

Time stops when your husband’s thumb starts rubbing circles into your hip. It’s gentle but suggestive all the same. No, no, no - you don’t want to fuck him again. You don’t want to bare yourself to him, to allow his fingers to rub at your clit as he thrusts in and out of your most sensitive area. You don’t want him to lick your twitching clit or tug his hair as he eats you out again. 

It was too much, too painful. 

You already told him as such. 

“D-D-Dion.” You hate how your voice shakes, choking on his name. You hate how loud your gulp is. You hate how you’re going to offer your mouth and hands to him again. You hate the fact that you’re going to sit back and act how your mother and sister told you to. 

He hums, hand moving from your hip to your back, tracing your spine again. You fail in holding back the small gasp that slips through. How is it possible for him to get harder just from that!? 

Your toes curl as he gives a small hump, only to harshly stiffen. Did he not mean to do that? 

“A-as long as we don’t… do it, then I’ll be happy to help you.” His hips struggle to stay still at your words, your husband clearly getting excited. He shouldn’t be like this. He should have left you alone and obsess over Roxana. 

But your gut is telling you that you switched places with her. That can’t be true though - he’s just playing with you for now. Raising your hopes up that he’ll be a ‘decent’ husband only to shatter the illusion once he gets tired of you. Honestly, after giving it some thought, you’re not sure which one is worse. 

“You have a lot of trouble with saying the word ‘sex’. It’s cute.” Dion muses, deciding to break his promise of not touching you further by ghosting his lips along the back of your neck, stopping between your shoulder blades. 

“M-mmh… You promised not to touch,” you shakily breath out, ignoring how he called you ‘cute.’ Your toes curl again, chest heaving a bit as you force your breathing to stay steady. Fingers digging into the sheets, your head starts to feel dizzy - he’s being much more intimate, choosing to be teasing and lover-like. 

How long has it been since you tingle down there? You hate it, hate how his touches are starting to set the mood. It’s despicable.

“You also said you didn’t come here for this.” 

“People are allowed to change their minds.” Your husband doesn’t go further than this. You wonder what his expression is. What he’s thinking while scared of the reality of everything. Should you be direct with your refusal? Would he even care? Bother to listen? 

Breathing in, you decide to test your luck. 

“But I haven’t.” Again, he stays practically glued to you. “So, please.” Unable to finish, you only shut your eyes tight, praying to whatever God that would listen. After what seems like hours he completely removes himself from you. Relief fills you as you’re freed, air easier to take in. 

It slightly irks you when he doesn’t apologize. The moment you wake up tomorrow, dawn breaking and memories fresh, you might consider killing yourself. To avoid any possible harsh and inhuman punishment Dion may give you for rejecting him. But tonight, right now as your head is fuzzy and your body falling victim to sleep, you couldn’t care less. 

You’re just happy and grateful he listened. 

Now only your body would do the same. 

“You should change and sleep.” No emotion in his voice. Remorse, guilt, annoyance, hatred - nonexistent. You are a bit worried about it but you can only close your eyes. Thinking is becoming hard.

How can you talk to him so freely? Minutes ago you were scared that the man would rape you. Yet now you’re back to being fine? Madness really is contagious. 

“I don’t think I can… that’s not an invitation.” Making your thoughts and expectations clear, you think you can faintly hear the scolding of your mother. You’ll fret over tonight later.

The world ceases to exist around you, falling into the abyss before you could hear him sigh.  

- - -

He was hoping you would change your mind. The most painful part was over with - as long as he took his time with you, it shouldn’t hurt as much. 

He would have played with your clit until you were whining for his fingers.  To flick the nub back and forth with his tongue until you complain, saying he was being unfair. To rub the tip of his cock against both your entrance and clit until your hips were bucking against him, trying to slip him in. 

But dreams don't always come true. 

Dion accepted as such, realizing that it was far too early to have sex again anytime soon. He could live without it. For a while. Hopefully the same goes for you, otherwise…

Well, his left arm would suffer a lot. 

… this isn’t like him. It’s strange and confuses him. You confuse him. But the questions could be saved for later, when his own eyes aren’t becoming heavy with sleep deprivation, the eye bags getting worse. 

He looks at your sleeping figure, halfway undone dress and corset still on. He considers stripping and changing you into the silk nightgown that he threw onto your back earlier. But seeing how the interaction from earlier went, he decides against it. 

He should call for Hana. 

Scarlet eyes stare hard at you. You look so comfortable, so peaceful - he wants to ruin it. Yet, at the same time, he wants to leave you be, to have a moment of peace in this hell. Your husband settles for the latter. Consideration sometimes overwrites sadistic pleasures. 

… something really is wrong with him. He wasn’t raised with consideration in mind yet here he is. 

Walking to the closet, opening the doors and picking nightclothes at random, Dion wonders how bad you’ll freak out tomorrow. If you’ll cry and beg for forgiveness once you’re able to talk and think. Or if you’ll play pretend and give him a nervous smile once the shock wears off. 

Maybe when he closes his eyes and slips into the dreamworld, he’ll be blessed with a dream of where you’ll accept him as is, faults and all. But as Dion slips his shirt on, he knows it’s next to impossible. 

For tomorrow, when you wake up to his sleeping face, you’ll find an isolated corner to hide in. Tonight will only be looked back on with regret filling your mind. 

That’s how it always starts. 

- - -

“Is it too early to write to sister?” a boyish voice asks. Your father looks up from his paperwork, heavy bags under his eyes. Standing in front of his desk in his office stands your brother - (e/c) eyes filled with impatience and worry. His hands are behind his back, nails digging into skin. 

The twelve-year-old boy has to physically stop himself from grabbing your father by the shoulders and shake him, demanding answers. Out of every man to marry you to, every family to give you to… why did he choose the worst of the worst? 

Weren’t there any better options? 

Your father goes back to his paperwork, pen gliding across the sheets. “It’s not, but be mindful of your words. No need to give your sister more stress. God knows she’s already tipping on the verge of insanity.” 

He doesn’t see the point in lying. Everyone with a brain knows he basically sent you to your early grave - it was only a matter of time until the Agriche family drives you crazy. And that’s putting it lightly. 

His reputation as a man and father has been ruined beyond belief. In spite of that, many still pitied him, rumors going around that he was forced to give you away. Others say that he wanted a bit of the power your new in-laws would lend him after the marriage. However, no-one would dare to ask him directly. 

“... am I supposed to wish her luck on her new happy marriage? Or should I tell her how lucky she is to get sold into such a wealthy and warm family?” 

Slam!

“Zachary (Last name)! Enough. This is a political matter; you won’t understand until you get older.” Your father slammed his palms against the surface of the desk, papers flying and pen dropping to the floor. It rolls under the desk. 

“Understand…? What is there to understand? Anyone with a brain cell knows that she won’t last long. Maybe a month if she’s lucky.” Zachary argues back, stomping towards the desk. A staring contest breaks out between the two males - your father is the first to look away. 

Running a hand through his greying hair, he heavily breathes out. “Everything will… work out.” 

“Work out? What do you mean by that? This isn’t some experiment -” 

“Listen,” your father leaves his position to walk towards your brother, grabbing his shoulders. “Your sister is strong. There is no need to worry.” 

“She’s as strong as a single match.” 

“That’s just rude. But yes, she won’t go crazy… immediately.” 

“You just said she’s tipping on the verge of insanity.” 

“It’s a figure of speech.” 

The argument goes nowhere, both males refusing to back down. Your brother was always hard headed - this wasn’t the first argument that has broken out between father and son, nor will it be the last. However, the context of this one is grave. It involves you. 

“Zac,” your father affectionately refers to him by his nickname, “it’s good that you’re worried about your sister. I’m worried too; but now is not the time to think the worst. Right now, you should offer her support…  cheer her up.” 

What a lousy way of pushing aside the pressing issue. 

Zac doesn’t say anything. In the end, he sighs before nodding his head. “Alright. I understand, father.” 

Your father accepts his answer. “Good. Now, like I said, do be mindful of what you write. Right now is a sensitive time.” 

‘Which means that the Agriche family is going to read through the letter first before giving it to her,’ Zac thinks. Alright, fine. That’s fine. 

Not like he practiced writing sugary words with hidden meanings the moment he heard of your engagement. With a teacher he hates but still followed regardless. The results of his teaching better yield positive results. For everyone’s safety - especially your brother’s. 

“I’ll tell her how you cried for two hours straight.” 

“...Zachary.” 

[essentiallyleaf]

day 19. rimming. with. haewon.

723 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, haewon is haewon, what else is there to say, rimming, handjob, writer is the moon knight meme in this one.

notes.

im out of (barely) good ideas and im panicking. fizzlingoutly, leaf.

You didn’t think it’d be so easy getting from Haewon’s overlip leaving pink-leaning-orange (she keeps insisting she’s a cool tone, but hm, is she really?) marks on her coke glass to the same lip imprints circling your butthole as she leaves wet kisses all around it. No, it was just a quick exchange, like she was choosing what to have for lunch at Subway.

“Wait, you’ve done this already, right?” You ask her, not without a little worry.

“Nah, have you?” She spits back casually.

“I thought you were the one who ate ass and wanted me to be your mate?! You know, mate in the, Brit sense, not in the… scientific sense.” That was more complicated than it needed to be.

“I dunno, I’m just tryna have fun.” She shrugs.

The correct answer, like in the Subway situation, is to not find yourself there, but if for some reason you do, might as well try to make the best of it. And the best of it, in this case, supposedly consists in Haewon’s hands keeping your thighs wide open as you lay on your back while her tongue takes a few short, explorative trips from your testicles, down to your perineum, applying a little pressure on it, and to the edge of your puckered hole. She brings her fingers up to your previously lubricated shaft to stroke it from time to time, but your groans when she does make them retreat immediately, reminding her that no, that’s not the main dish tonight.

It feels a little weird, having something touch you down there, but when that something has the soft, smooth texture, the expert dexterity and the cunning wit of Haewon’s tongue, well, then it’s probably Haewon’s tongue that’s when weird falls into the background to make space for pleasing, as testified by your whimpers, starting sparse and now becoming more and more frequent. That’s enough evidence for the girl to deduce that it’s time to go in, and when she does without any sign of warning, the only thing that can reasonably come out of your mouth, after a loud moan, that is, is a “Fuck you!”. That’s fair, she thinks, as she keeps attacking the inside of your cavern, and fair is the answer that you receive.

“That’s only gonna happen later, be patient”

Haewon starts circling all around the inner edge of your hole, making you bring a hand to your mouth to try to contain your own groans, or worse, screams. How does the joke bear get to this? How does she go from acting as the loser girl transferring schools in 7th grade for shits and giggles, to having you struggle to keep your shit together in your own bed because she wanted to, and this should be more or less the exact quote, “tongue-punch your bussy, you little boy bitch!”? Maybe sometimes it’s better not to ask. Other times, you don’t really have the physical capability to ask because your ‘friend’ (an umbrella term, but the most appropriate one to describe the two of you, you think; again, sometimes it’s better not to ask) is alternating between pumping her tongue deep in your asshole and wrapping her lips around its entrance to suck all the air out of it. Those times, the hand that was keeping your mouth closed becomes an object just like any other to bite onto, because now it would be screams. Those times, making the best of it is letting Haewon play with her toy and focusing on not letting the whole neighborhood know about it. Not supposedly anymore.

So when the final thrusts of her tongue hit you where it pleases the most, both of her hands back on your length and stroking, the only thing you can do is wail onto your own hand while you watch spurts upon spurts of white fly up in the air and back down on your abs, the muscles of your ass flexing repeatedly around her tongue. Lay your head back down onto the pillow and let yourself catch your breath again as you spread your arms open on the bed. Not even a minute, and she’s already taking her zip-up sweater and ripped blue jeans off and throwing them on the ground.

“Come on, fucker, what did you think the main dish was?”

-

footnotes.

maybe the formula is just sleep schedule plus work ethic, times effort. mathematically, leaf.

[leighsartworks216]

Doctor's Orders

Zayne x gn!Reader

I was working on a longer form version of this that just Was Not Happening, but this came out so easy so it's the version you're getting

@midiplier You sent your ask while I was writing the long-form version and I wish I got it out sooner but fuck it Christmas angst I guess

Warnings: grief/mourning, hurt/comfort, Christmas, childhood friends, cuddling, crying, not proofread, possibly OOC

Word Count: 839

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The lights twinkle in a little dance around the tree. Glass ornaments hang delicately along its branches. Tinsel shimmers and shines. The star at the top stares down at you.

You wipe your cheeks with your sleeves and the back of your hands. The tears keep coming, no matter how hard you try to stop them. They pool without ceremony in your eyes and slip free without even a sob to accompany them.

Zayne lowers himself to the carpet beside you. He doesn't speak. Doesn't say that you should be in bed. Doesn't need to ask what's wrong. What he does do is offer you a box of tissues. You grab a couple and hold them to your eyes, hoping they'll suck up the moisture.

This is the better alternative. Only a couple days before, Zayne visited your apartment to find it woefully devoid of any decoration. Dishes sat untouched in the sink, laundry overflowed the hamper, and the bags under your red-raw eyes spoke volumes. When Zayne asked you to spend the holidays at his place (practically running down an entire list of your excuses to convince you to please get out of your house), you packed the essentials and settled into his guest bedroom.

"I’m sorry for waking you," you croak out with a pitiful sniffle.

He shakes his head and offers you another tissue. "You didn't wake me," he assures. You can't tell if he's just lying to make you feel better or not, but it's a lot easier to believe he is. A whole lot easier to blame yourself than odd coincidence. "If you're about to apologize for being a bother, I'd rather you just blow your nose."

You take the tissue and turn your face away as you blow your nose. "That obvious?"

"You've apologized seven times already for intruding, even though I'm the one that invited you to stay," he gripes, but there's no real frustration behind it. He reaches for a blanket off the couch. It's barely used. He unfolds it and drapes it around your shoulders. "You don't have to apologize for your grief."

You shoot him a sardonic look. "Even if I'm mean to you?"

He smiles slightly. "Especially if you're mean to me. I know you well enough not to take it personally."

"You're so weird."

"If you say so."

You can feel the exhaustion in your back, your shoulders, under your eyes. You want to go to sleep. You want to curl up in bed and shut your brain off and pray it doesn't show you anything worse. But you don't. You turn back to the tree, trace your eyes over the same ornaments you've already memorized by now, and let the tightness in your chest weigh you to the spot.

You exhale shakily into the still air. The lights become a blurry bokeh as your eyes unfocus, staring at the ornaments Zayne's parents sent him from their travels. You'd numbly helped him set it all up a few days ago. You were so checked out that the loss didn't register. Now it keeps hitting you in full force, over and over.

Zayne must recognize your internal plight because he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his side. You fall easily into his chest. His shoulder makes the perfect pillow to cry into. He rubs your arm up and down, doing his best to ground you and comfort you in one.

"I'm scared to go back to sleep," you admit in a choked whisper. "I'm scared I'll see their faces. And then I'll wake up and they aren't here."

He rests his cheek on your head. Josephine and Caleb had meant a lot to him, too, especially growing up, before he left. Countless memories of life when being carefree was expected. When getting into trouble was the norm. Days when he was still struggling to use his Evol, much to Caleb's amusement. Days when more time was dedicated to using it to form popsicles out of soda and poor attempts at sculptures to cheer up a certain other child.

Time truly does not change much.

"We'll stay up all night, then," he whispers back, feeling awfully like two children hiding under a blanket from the monsters of the night.

You scoff even as you turn further into him. Your wet cheeks are warm against his neck. "That doesn't sound like something a doctor would say."

He chuckles. "What if I said it was doctor's orders?"

A mangled sound escapes you. Zayne can only be sure it's a laugh with how your lungs spasm with the burst of exhaled air. "Then I guess I have no choice but to listen."

It's not ten minutes later that you're fast asleep in his arms, uncomfortably sitting on the carpet as legs fall asleep and backs ache. Zayne doesn't move from this spot, the silent aegis against all your fears. He will be here when you wake up. That means more to you than any gift under the tree.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko

[cieloclercs]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a social media fic with nando where his gf/fiancé/wife comes to the paddock for the first time after they had their second child? And like the photographers are all oveeeer reader cuz of the cuteness and the other drivers are just soo happy nando found his person and started a family and just overload cuteness from the media and the fans and stuff like that 😊(ps: can you make the reader 10-12 years younger than alonso? I’m a sucker for a good age gap!) btw, looooove your writing and smau’s!! Have a good day 🫶🏻

-🦕

home is where the heart is — fernando alonso

genre. social media au pairing. fernando alonso x reader warnings. swearing

author’s note. hello anon! i wasn’t entirely sure if you meant first time after having their second child or first time ever, but i’ve gone with the latter so i hope you like it! also there isn’t a direct reference to the age gap in here sorry :( you can still imagine it that way though because that was my thought process when i was making this <3

liked by formulaupdates and 2,367 others

f1wags Fernando Alonso and his longtime girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N spotted in the paddock for the first time! Y/N has just given birth to their second child, María! What an adorable family 😍

view all comments…

username you’re telling me i’ve been waiting to meet the mystery that is Y/N for YEARS and then she turns up with TWO WHOLE CHILDREN IM GOING TO IMPLODE

username i can’t believe the mystery girlfriend nando’s been hoarding is THIS HOT

username he knows we’ll fight him for her 🤭

username what the FUCK

username two kids?? daddy alonso’s been busy 😳

username STOP 😭😭

username he’s officially a dilf now 🥳🥳🥳

username carmen and maría are so cuteeee 🥹🥹

username i knowwww 😭 and girl dad nando is SERVING

username look at how he’s got carmen on his shoulders AHHH 🦋🦋🦋

2h ago

liked by yourusername and 65,736 others

tagged: yourusername

fernandoalo_oficial Home race week with mis ángeles ❤️ So glad to have my three greatest loves with me for this special race. Y/N, Carmen y María, os quiero a todos más de lo que puedo decir 💗 / I love you all more than I can ever say. See you in Canada!

view all comments…

username i was NOT prepared to cry today

username stop because this is SO SIGNIFICANT as well?? like before y/n fernando was single for so long and now he’s finally found his person 🥹🥹🥹 i’m not crying u are

username i’m pretty sure ur crying

username don’t EXPOSE me

lancestroll it was so lovely to see y/n and the girls! hope you bring them to the paddock again soon 🤍

yourusername i think carmen would throw a fit of we didn’t 😅 how does canada sound?

lancestroll see you there! 😁

fernandoalo_oficial Do I get a say in this?

yourusername the girls will miss you if you go without us 🥲

fernandoalo_oficial Just the girls? 🤨

yourusername ok maybe i’ll miss you too 😉

username not y/n and nando flirting on main 🫣

lewishamilton So happy for you mate ❤️ Give Y/N and the girls my love x

*fernandoalo_oficial and yourusername liked this comment

fernandoalo_oficial ❤️

carlossainz55 the most beautiful couple 🤍 me alegro mucho por vosotros / so happy for you guys

yourusername gracias carlos ☺️ come visit soon, carmen and maría miss their favourite uncle!

carlossainz55 on my way as we speak

landonorris favourite uncle? am i a joke to you?

maxverstappen1 excuse me i think that title belongs to me 🤨

lancestroll not a chance. i’m their favourite

yourusername boys there’s no need to fight! you can share the title 😌

fernandoalo_oficial Lando is their favourite

landonorris HAHAHHA SUCK ON THAT

username nando really said fuck it let’s cause some chaos 😭

maxverstappen1 beyond happy for you guys (even though i should be the girls’ favourite uncle)

fernandoalo_oficial Keep dreaming, Max!

username yeah you’ve already won enough titles, let the others have this one!

*yourusername liked this comment

username i still want to know how they kept this secret for so long 😭

landonorris i deserve a medal for not telling anyone tbh.

username PHAHAHHA LANDO

astonmartinf1 We’ll be seeing the full Alonso family around our garage again soon, hopefully? 👀

yourusername keep my boyfriend’s car fighting for podiums and then we’ll talk!

username SHE’S JUST LIKE ME FR

username iconic.

[hazbin-but-good]

another hazbin hotel rewrite/redesign?

yup! and i'm so serious about it that i made a whole blog for it. i'm a white queer ex-cath tran doing this as an art and writing exercise, so feedback from other creatives + jewish and/or racialized folks is especially welcome.

i'm putting this post and only this post in the main tags for visibility. also, not gonna link my main, but i do make my own original stuff, and i encourage fans and haters alike to do the same.

anyway, here's a mostly good-faith 1.7k-word essay on the original. i think it's pretty funny and brings up some less talked-about points. correct me on the facts, disagree with my opinions, and ask clarifying questions, but don't come at me with any piss-poor reading comprehension.

the hellaverse is garbage, and here's why

cw: strong language, stronger opinions, intersectional feminist critical discourse analysis

1. vivienne medrano, the person

medrano was born as a well-off white-passing latina (salvadoran-american) in bougieass frederick, maryland. while attending new york's top art school, she got popular on deviantart-tumblr-twitter by being a prolific multifandom fujoshi furry who's more into ornamental character design than storytelling. upon graduation, she leveraged her fanbase and industry connections to make the hazbin and helluva boss pilots, get helluva made for youtube, and get hazbin made for amazon prime.

like every woman online, she gets harassed for no good reason, and as a certified autist, i will defend her right to be dumb, weird, annoying, and bad with words. however, there are legit reasons to criticize her:

racism, misogyny, homophobia, fatphobia, some antisemitism, past transphobia, past ableism

shitty boss, bad friend

cowardly, vindictive, manipulative, thoughtless behavior

skeevy friends

sucks at taking criticism

in short, i think she desperately needs a PR person and someone to clean up her digital footprint.

2. medrano's art

incurious

inauthentic

noncommittal

creatively stagnant

overindulgent, and the indulgence isn't even fun

shallow and childish framed as complex and mature

bland and boring framed as shocking and subversive

to be clear, i'm at peace with the existence of suckass art like this; i just think the money, attention, and praise it gets are unearned and should go to more interesting works, of which there are infinite.

medrano's had the time, money, and social cache to grow as an artist, learn from the best, and take creative risks, but she hasn't. if she truly has nothing more to offer, she should let her collaborators take the wheel, but she doesn't do that either. instead, she keeps getting more and more resources to make the same baby bullshit, and that pisses me off. she could be the nicest person ever, and this fundamental arrogance would still make her art blow.

stop with the pointless guilt: liking medrano's work does not make you stupid or evil. however, if you stay in the kiddie pool of culture, if you refuse to engage with a diversity of art, if the hellaverse is your point of reference for anything media-related, you can't expect to have your opinions on art, media, or culture taken seriously. you have not earned a seat at the table. you gotta hit the books first.

i cannot emphasize enough how much incredible stuff is out there if you're willing to look further than what social media and streaming services put right in front of you. if you come away from this blog having learned about just one new artist or piece of art, i'll be a happy camper.

3. the hellaverse

a. empty and confused

hazbin and helluva's content and marketing has no clear target audience. the subjects are inappropiate for teens, but the execution is too childish for adults, and lemme tell you what i don't mean by that, first.

not inherently inappropriate for teens:

sex and sexuality

violence, including when it intersects with the above

politics and religion

not inherently childish:

animation (any style)

comedy

episodic writing and/or loose continuity

young characters

fun, happiness, optimism, the power of friendship, cuteness, tenderness, sincerity, etc.

what i mean is that these shows are literally about adult characters who fuck, smoke, drink, do drugs, go clubbing, work full-time, manage their own finances, and deal with stuff like bureaucracy, sexual violence, domestic abuse, marriage, divorce, late adoption, and family estrangement.

however, none of these "adult" things are given enough specificity to create drama or comedy. it's all too stock, vague, flat, weirdly sanitized, and thus utterly banal—pure aesthetics on top of bad saturday morning cartoons. it's exactly what i'd expect from a sheltered disney kid who needs to log off and get into their local gay scene ASAP so their only contact with things like poverty, policing, addiction, and sex work stops being facile movies and TV.

if the shows were aware of this and played with it, that could be amazing, but they're not. they give you the mickey mouse version of the world with a straight face and then play looney tunes sound effects to try to make you laugh and sad_violin.mp3 to try to make you cry. now that's funny.

b. old and tired

let's make like americans and pretend that the rest of the world doesn't exist. even within the confines of the USA, home of the hays code, the red scare, and reaganite propaganda, this neopuritan fascist state ruled by 1000 megachurches in a trenchcoat, the indie/underground animation scene has been doing crazier shit for decades. anti-war films in the 60's, bakshi movies in the 70's, the simpsons shorts and r-rated movies in the 80's, adult swim and MTV in the 90's, flash/newgrounds/youtube in the 00's, streaming in the 2010's—so what are we doing in the 2020's with this wet white rice drowned in expired ketchup? i feel crazy making this point because it's obvious if you've watched these things, but if you haven't, you're gonna be like "well, there's gotta be something new here". no! there isn't! in the words of jimmy "the scot" jordan, nothing, nothing, NOTHING!

c. ideological purgatory

actually, there is one thing in these shows i've never seen before: the presbysterianism. shout out some interesting or at least intentional presbysterian art in the comments, because the way these ideas are presented here is not compelling. it just makes the rainbow neoliberalism even more confusing and contradictory.

i guess the big presbysterian things are protestanism, calvinism, and, uh, big church government? presbysterians, get your shit together. get your brand down. catholics have BDSM and vampires, evangelicals have TV and corporatism; what do you have? celtic crosses? no wonder medrano has such uninspired ideas on divinity.

d. queer deficiency

when i look at a piece of art, i ask myself: "what does this give me that i can't get from the hunchback of notre dame (1996)?" if the answer is as limp as "uhh, gay people, i guess", i can probably look for my gay shit elsewhere and rewatch the hunchback of notre dame (1996) in the meantime.

but let's say that you have no standards. you've been waiting for ages for a show about gays by the gays for the gays, and by god you're gonna get it. this is it! here we go! time for some

generic twink obliteration

male sexuality as aggression and dominance displays

WLW (sex and chemistry not included)

a couple straight femdoms

and the stalest sex jokes known to man

...yeah, it's not very queer. and by "queer", i mean "questioning or subverting gender norms (including sexual roles) within a given cultural context regardless of creator identity and intent". i'm not a queer studies scholar so LMK if there's a more specific term for this, but whatever you call it, it's not in the hellaverse much.

there's not even any transness, literal or metaphorical, just ancient drag jokes. i guess the writers thought we would've been too controversial. so much for an indie animation studio that prides itself in the diversity of its staff both above and below the line, bakshi-style. i wonder how medrano, a bisexual woman, would've felt if told that a lesbian main couple in hazbin would be "too controversial".

4. spindlehorse and the vivziepop brand

spindlehorse toons underpays its overworked staff and keeps outsourcing more and more labor to even more overworked freelancers overseas to cut costs. a rainbow sweatshop is still a sweatshop, and just because these practices may be "industry standard" doesn't make them any more ethical.

the studio has also been repeatedly accused by current and former employees and contractors of creating a hostile and abusive workplace. AFAIK, it still has no dedicated HR person, and victims are too afraid of retaliation like blacklisting and online harassment to speak out.

this is exactly the stuff that unions exist to prevent. as i'm writing this, the IATSE (the parent union of TAG, which is the parent union of all US animation unions) is negotiating with entertainment industry executives for better working conditions, and if the execs fuck around like last year, it's strike time again. so watch this space, voice your support, and don't cross any picket lines.

i hope spindlehorse unionizes, but until then and for these reasons, i don't think you should give money to the company.

first of all, all content on amazon-owned platforms is ok to pirate, and all youtube ads are ok to block. everyone involved in making the episodes has (or should have) been paid upfront, so you're not taking the bread out of anyone's mouth.

next, let's look at the succulent offerings of the official vivziepop merch shop:

$10 pins and keychains

$15 sticker packs

$20 mugs and acrylic cutouts

$25 shirts

$30 metal cards (not even tarot)

$40 lounge pants

$50 mini backpacks

random $80 skateboard deck

forgive my latin americanness, but this is all stuff you can get made by a local metalsmith, print/sublimation shop, or just crafty people in your life. it's cheaper, customizable, and better for the environment to skip all the shipping and packaging. also, not painting your own skateboard is poser shit.

the hazbin website also has $15 pins, one $20 keychain, and $6 trading card packs. people are weird about trading cards, so if for some reason you wanna gamble for a mass-produced bit of cardboard, plastic, and tinfoil, at least bulk-order for all the vivziepoppers in your area so it's less of a huge waste. better yet, trace the designs and make infinite bootlegs.

at the end of the day, buying merch is not activism. your bulk order of trading cards will not save any wage slaves from getting evicted from their overpriced studio apartments. however, the shop links you to all the credited artists/designers, and more of your bucks will actually reach them if you buy their designs directly, then turn them into body pillows or life-sized bronze statues or whatever the fuck.

go through the credits of any episode of helluva or hazbin, and you'll find even more creatives you might wanna support. get jinkx monsoon's albums on CD. subscribe to actually good artist, animator, and composer gooseworx. lots of voice actors now have patreon, cameo, or self-hosted pages where you can write better lines for their characters and have them read it. these things may not look as shiny as Official Merch™, but we all need less plastic shit and more culture anyway.

[notjustjavierpena]

Mouthful

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Made with the help from my loveliest @strang3lov3 with a talk about men conking out after cumming and how Hubby Javier still hasn’t gotten his dick sucked. So to all the girlies who want to give your fictional husband a blowjob, this one is for you.

Summary: Javier is starting to come down with the flu but he just simply won’t lie down to have some rest. You have a trick that never fails.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, husband!javier, domestic life, sickfic, Inés is a menace, Javier is a stubborn man, ❤️ JAVIER HAS A DAD BOD!!!!!!! ❤️, blowjob, deep-throating, mouth-fucking, praise, dirty talk, cum-swallowing,

Word count: 2.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52856839

Mouthful

You hear the clink of plates being lifted out of the dishwasher, the sound of Sebastian crying, stuttering sobs as he is bounced, and Inés going on about something that happened in preschool. Javier is barely listening, replying with half-sentences that seem to make his daughter more frustrated with her father not paying attention and eventually leading to her talking louder. 

The idea of what will meet you in the kitchen is enough to make you want to flee to the bedroom, enough to make you want to pretend that you haven’t heard them during an extended nap. However, you could never bring yourself to let Javier go through the hell of late afternoons with children alone.

“Look who’s up,” he says with a desperate smile as you enter the room, twisting his whole body to make his crying son spot his mother. As soon as Sebastian’s eyes gaze upon you, his wails die down and they stop completely the moment you take him from Javier’s arms. 

“Mom! Guess what happened today at school,” Inés interrupts just as you are about to say something. She speaks loudly, and you automatically reach up to cover Sebastian’s ear that isn’t pressed into your shoulder. 

“Inés, indoor voices,” Javier finally manages to say, reaching up to rub his temples, “Shhh…”

“Sorry,” she makes a face, not completely convinced. 

“What happened at school?” You ask but instead of looking at her, you find yourself staring at your husband who looks like absolute hell, glassy eyes and exhaustion radiating from him. Inés giggles as she tells a joke that isn’t really a joke, too lost in her story to notice that you aren’t really listening. 

Javier places a hand on the kitchen table, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. His shirt is crumpled, his eyes have dark circles and you don’t actually think that he has even noticed that he is sniffling every other moment. He sighs deeply, breathing mostly through his mouth as he does it, and then goes back to emptying the dishwasher.

“Are you okay, honey?” You ask him, stopping midway to shush Inés who doesn’t look pleased, “You look under the weather. Are you feeling okay?” 

There’s an almost offended nature in Javier’s reply. He doesn’t stop what he is doing, sorting through the cutlery, “What? No, yeah. Estoy bien, mi amor (I’m fine, my love). Just need to get this done.”

“And then what?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. 

“And then I’ll get started on dinner,” he tells you with a tired smile that isn’t very convincing. 

“You look like… m i e r d a (shit), and you probably feel it too. I was sick last week,” you spell out the dirty word, using the Spanish word because the English is short enough to make Inés guess what you are saying. 

“Mom,” Inés predictably complains. 

“I’m fine. I just need 20 minutes where no one comes near me,” he says with exasperation. He finishes up the bottom drawer of the dishwasher and goes to pull out the top one. You find yourself laying a hand on top of his, stopping him in his tracks.

“Javi,” you say softly. 

“What?” He grumbles.

“I can finish up here. I’ll cook dinner,” you tread lightly, knowing that he hates being babied by you. Him not pulling his weight is a common fight that the two of you have had, and he probably feels on edge when you ask him not to help out with the kids. 

“I can do it,” he snaps but suddenly sneezes, and it ends up making his nose prickle enough to cause his eyes to water. 

“Go do something else, laundry maybe. I’ll do this,” you say a little more firmly, strategically sending him to your bedroom to make him spot your bed and have some well-earned rest, “It’s really not a problem, and you know I hate doing laundry anyway.”

“Fine,” he holds his hands up in surrender. 

“I love you,” you say in a sing-song voice as he leaves the kitchen, “Go have your 20 minutes.”

Inés looks longingly after her father but you manage to distract her with a snack before she runs after him. You run your free hand over her hair as she eats a peanut butter sandwich, Sebastian cooing happily on your hip as he has been allowed to chew on a banana.

“Do you want to watch cartoons before dinner?” You ask, “Give Mommy some time to get things done in the kitchen, and then I can hear all about school while we eat?”

“Fine,” she parrots her dad, holding up her hands as well and running off to the living room. You follow her, setting Sebastian down in his playpen and turning on the baby monitor. Then you turn on the TV, adjust the volume, and let Inés busy herself by singing along to her favorite theme song. 

You finish emptying the dishwasher, cut vegetables, and throw them into the slow cooker with other ingredients, and after you check on both of your kids, you realize there’s some spare time before you have to pick Lucas up from his play date. 

You decide to go upstairs to do another round of laundry, but when you cannot find the laundry basket, you go to your bedroom. Javier must have taken it when folding clothes. 

“Jesus, why are you not resting? I sent you here so you’d eventually nap,” you groan as you enter the bedroom and see Javier putting his shirts on hangers. 

“I told you I’m fine,” he seems even more sick at this point, nose slightly congested and causing him to speak nasally, “I can do this.”

You walk up to him to yank a clothing hanger out of his hands and throw it onto the floor, receiving a glare in response. Javier doesn’t look pleased with your behavior, but you don’t find his stubborn attitude charming either. 

“Javier F. Peña,” you tut, “Just go lie down and trust that your wife has everything under control. It’s what a lot of husbands do, you know.”

“Well, wife, I don’t need your permission to do housework,” he tries to push past you but you catch him in a disarming embrace, giggling as he tries bending down to pick you up so he can move you out of his way. You avoid his efforts, catching him by the wrists when he straightens once more, and push him back towards the bed. 

“You need rest, husband,” you shove him when the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, and he lets himself fall down into the mattress, bouncing slightly as it connects with his back. 

“I don’t need a nap, I’m not a child,” he groans dramatically. 

“Then stop acting like one,” you pull the baby monitor out of your pocket and place it on the nightstand. When Javier tries to sit up again, you snap your fingers and point at him, “Nuh-uh, lie down.” 

It makes you realize that you need to use alternative methods to get him to obey; he simply won’t do as he has been told, and if anyone is ever in doubt about where Inés gets her stubbornness from, you’ll simply glance over at her father to answer the question. 

“What if I treat you to something special?” You ask with a little smirk, moving to the end of the bed so you can proceed to crawl onto him. You sit on his legs, “Think that’ll make you relax?”

You already know the answer to that question. He looks ready to conk out. 

“I’m actually fine, I don’t need—“

“I know, Javi,” you reply. Your fingers find his crumpled shirt and you pull it out of his jeans, shoving it up over his stomach so you can access his belt, watching your husband twitch underneath you at the sound of the buckle clinking as you undo it. 

He lifts his head to watch as you tug down his jeans and underwear, “Just so you know, I’m not sleeping after this. I have to—“

“I know, Javi,” you repeat, bending down to nuzzle your nose against his soft stomach. His cock lays flaccid against his thigh, but you pull it out from underneath the waistband of his briefs to lay it against his tummy so you can skim your palm up and down the shaft. His soft cock slowly comes alive underneath your touch, and soon you can wrap your fist around him to stroke him till he stands completely erect. 

Below you, Javier groans when you press a kiss to his belly, “And I have to get the laundry done.” 

“Whatever you say, baby, let me take care of you and I’ll let you do as much laundry as you want,” you hum against his skin, relishing in his warmth and his so-called dad-body - the last year has blessed you with Javier getting a little softer to the touch - that you nuzzle up to at every opportunity you get. 

Javier isn’t a fan of himself growing soft around the middle but you savor it every time you get to see that bit of pudge strain against his usual jeans (which he refuses to buy in a bigger size). If you thought he was gorgeous when his muscles were toned and his body looked younger, you had not been prepared for how good he looks now that he is older, rounder, and getting comfortable. His arms are still deliciously strong; an overwhelmingly sexy result of still carrying Inés around everywhere, picking her up from the ground if she has a tantrum at the grocery store. 

“God, you’re so sexy,” you pinch his stomach to earn a little noise. Javier says your name in disapproval but you just look up at him with a smile, grabbing more of his pudge before biting into it and kissing it afterward, “Let your wife have her fun.”

Javier is just about to say something - you don’t know whether it is about his body, the lack of a blowjob, or laundry once more - but you know it’s more complaining and so you cut him off by running the flat of your tongue from base to tip of his cock. He tastes like salt. If you had the time, you would not finish until his scent and taste were everywhere on you. In your clothes, etched into your skin, and on your tongue. 

“Oh shi—“ he gasps, resting the back of his head on the mattress once more. He breathes deeply in through his mouth, nose still stuffed, and stares at the ceiling as you work your tongue up and down his shaft only to follow the wet trail with your nose.

When you reach his cockhead a third time, you suckle on the very tip to rid him of the pearl of precome that has accumulated at the slit and is threatening to slide down (you want to treat yourself to it before it does). Above you, Javier moans at feeling your mouth, not your tongue, properly for the first time. 

“Fucking hell, baby, gotta admit that I didn’t see this coming,” he half-chuckles, half-groans.

“Maybe I just wanted to shut you up for a moment. You are stubborn, you know,” you pull back to talk, look up at him, and nuzzle needily at his cock. He looks down at you but you simply smile, “I looove you for that though, not annoying at all.”

You follow your little snarky remark up with a press of your lips to the underside of his shaft, using a hot open-mouthed kiss to cut off whatever offense he might take from your teasing. He doesn’t even seem to register it after feeling your mouth on himself again. 

Then you let saliva gather in your mouth before spitting directly onto the head, using your hand to smear it down his length by stroking him a few times. You lean over him and bring your mouth down over his girth, no teasing or anything, until the thick head hits the back of your mouth. 

“Fuuuck, and then up again,” he groans, a strong hand reaching for whatever he can grab of you. His fingers curl around your shoulder, moving inwards until they dig into the back of your neck. Slowly, you drag your lips all the way off of him again. 

Javier makes a sound when you pull off but it quickly turns into a whimper as you let more saliva drip down. You smear this too, swirling your sinful tongue around the tip and occasionally licking like were you eating a popsicle on a summer’s day. 

You can feel him pulse against your lips, so you show mercy and let him into your mouth again. He is hot and heavy on your tongue and a moaning mess above you, nails starting to dig into your skin. 

You start bobbing your head, hand on the base of Javier’s cock to hold his generous size in place. When he bumps against your throat for the first time and thus makes you gag the first time, he lets out a sound that you can never get enough of and it causes your cunt to throb between your legs. 

“Who would think that a pretty girl sucks cock like that? Oh, fuck… I love you, just like that—” he talks in a way that makes you think he might not even be aware of what he is saying but is simply letting his mouth run, “Suck that cock, baby. Good fucking girl, married the right one, didn’t I?”

You hum in reply and he growls at the vibrations of your voice. The pride you feel is indescribable, and so you seek out his approval once again by moaning as you taste him. Even if it results in your eyelashes dampening from Javier pushing his hips upwards, you lean further down and force yourself to relax your throat. 

He slides into the tight space at the back of your throat and his hand flies to the top of your head. He fists your hair desperately when you gulp around him and make your throat spasm, tugging at your follicles to the point where tears slide down your face. Soon, they also mix with the spit coating his cock.

You swallow around him again. Javier holds your head with both hands now, “Can I - Christ - can I fuck this gorgeous mouth? Por favor (please), baby.”

Even if it is hurting a little, you nod the best you can because Javier’s groan as he starts thrusting his hips upward is worth any ache in your body. Your thighs flutter, your clit pulses. 

Both his hands gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He uses it to move your head as he pleases, makes you bob on his dick until you gag wetly with every other thrust of his hips. Every time he bucks his hips, his thigh muscles flex and your nose buries itself in his happy trail. 

“You gonna take it?” He rasps, chest heaving. He is nearly there, muscles in his whole body twitching as he slowly loses control over himself when pleasure is so close. The next thrusts are maddening and you can’t blink any tears away even if you tried, “Fuck, swallow, baby. Take my come.”

You look up at him through your wet lashes and hum a mhm, confirming. Yes, yes, yes, give it to me.

You know he is peaking when his breath stops. He holds it during the last thrusts, finally letting out a loud moan as he finishes and sucks in a deep breath afterward. 

His cock spurts in the next moment. You can feel it hit the back of your sore throat, warm and salty, in several pulses and automatically, you swallow hungrily around his girth. The action makes him groan weakly and his hips stutter until he finally needs to let go of you. His arms lie flat along his side.

“Holy fuck, baby,” he sighs contentedly when you pull off, “Fuck, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything, Daddy,” you tease, and then you treat the sensitive head of his cock to a few innocent kitten-licks, essentially cleaning him up until he softens. 

He whimpers when it becomes too much, and so you pull off to kiss him along his stomach. You can hear his breathing changing, turning into something less erratic. 

“You okay?” You eventually ask but receive no reply. You look up. 

As predicted, Javier snores. You smile to yourself as you push yourself away from him, careful not to wake him up as you pull his briefs and jeans up again, leaving the latter unbuttoned. 

“Javier Peña, the most stubborn man on the planet has a weakness,” you whisper and shake your head with a fond smile. 

You grab the baby monitor from the nightstand and leave him to sleep, knowing he’ll wake up feeling a lot more sick and, hopefully, a lot more cooperative. You bring him a glass of water and some Tylenol to wake up to, write a note for him about how much you adore him, and that you’ll take care of everything. He needs it. 

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