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bit-dodgy-innit · 5 months

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We're Not Here to F*ck Spiders

Summary: You were the oldest Spider-Girl the society had ever encountered, therefore, Miguel took a special interest in you. He wanted to know if your life would correspond with his and the other Spiders’ canon, or whether you had a completely different canon you were forging on your own. After an offhanded comment about reviewing your canon with Miguel outside of headquarters, your relationship with Spider-Man 2099 is forever changed.

Set in between ITSV and ATSV.

Pairing: Marc x OC Female!Reader

For context, Reader is an alternate, grown-up version of Mayday due to personal reasons (personal reasons being I’ve been obsessed with Mayday Parker since I was baby child)! No real use of Y/N, though Miguel does refer to the reader as "May" twice and Peter Parker nicknamed her Mayhem. Peter B.'s daughter is Mayday.

Word Count: 10.2k words (see why this took me forever?!)

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI!!

CW/TW: An obscene amount of world-building, parents and kids fighting, mentions of a loss of a child, everyone being hot for Miguel, rough-ish sex (both partners are superheroes, come on), our boy is HUNG, dirty talk, a bit of cocky dom!Miguel, oral f!receiving, a lil bit of both m and f!receiving nipple play, PIV sex, riding, a quick spank, creampie, felching, and perhaps most intense of all, Miguel’s fear of commitment.

A/N: hahahahahaha this movie is nearly a year old and I FINALLY got around to writing a fic for it! Trust that I've been working on this on and off for a while now, but life has been nuts and writing more and more for work (yay!) but wanted to get this out while I had a slow week for everyone to enjoy!

Also, due to more personal reasons, my HC for Reader's parents are Peter and Mary Jane from Sam Raimi's masterpiece in 2002. But no presh if that doesn't jibe with ya!

I MADE A PLAYLIST FOR THIS FIC AND I'VE NEVER BEEN MORE PROUD OF ANYTHING

“Careful, Mayday!” you fondly called after the child who was literally bouncing off the cavernous walls of HQ. Yeesh, were you this energetic when you were her age? Probably. It never ceased to be weird, hanging out with an alternate baby version of yourself, but you could manage if you pretended she was your little niece, or sister, or something like that.

The alternate baby version of Mayday Parker in question didn’t heed your admonishment at all (which tracked), so you called again, “Oh noooo…I’m gonna have to come up there and get ya!”

Mayday squealed in delight at your “threat” and only zipped around quicker. However, you had a couple decades on her, so your reflexes were more attuned. It didn’t take long for you to capture her in your grasp and tickle her. However, little Mayday wasn’t going to give up that easily. She squirmed out of your hold and began scaling the nearby wall at a dizzying pace.

“Okay, missy, let’s settle down,” you announced, shooting a web to meet the infant on the platform she’d crawled onto. You continued to speak as you swung, “you know how Miguel is, we can’t get too carried…away.”

You nearly threw yourself back off the platform when you were met with the sight of Miguel himself standing before you holding May.

“Oh, hi,” you gestured to the squirming girl in his hands, “thanks. I was right behind her.”

“What am I like?” He asked, an inquisitive arch in his brow.

“You’re…you run a tight ship that’s all,” you wished a portal would swallow you whole. “And it’s great! We need it.”

“Are you supposed to be anywhere?” Miguel prodded further as he passed you May.

“Me? No, it's my day off.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because you put Peter B. on a mission and it gives me anxiety when he takes her.”

“You and me both,” he huffed.

“That being said, anything I can help you with?”

“Yeah actually, I have new sequencing to go over with you.”

Though the multiverse was ever-expanding, you were the oldest Spider-Girl the society had ever encountered, therefore, Miguel had taken a special interest in you. Since you were a second generation Spider, Miguel wanted to know if your life would correspond with his, your dad’s, and the other Spiders’ canon, or whether you had a completely different canon you were forging on your own. You initially found the whole concept fascinating, yet that interest waned pretty quickly when Miguel informed you that he was going to have Lyla analyze your entire life and have you expound on your experiences so he could compare you to the other Spiders.

Not that there was anything you were particularly ashamed of, but some of this stuff was embarrassing. Unlike baby Mayday, whose powers had already emerged, yours didn’t make an appearance until puberty. Reviewing your awkward teen years wasn’t exactly your ideal way of spending time with an unfairly hot guy, let alone the head of Spider Society.

“Oh okay, yeah,” you replied. “When Peter gets ba—“

“MAYDAY! WHERE’S MY PUMPKIN?” Peter’s voice echoed across the room.

No sooner had Peter spoken did Mayday websling herself off of the platform and into her father’s arms.

Shit, there went your excuse. A nervous chuckle escaped you, “Convenient.”

“Sí. Follow me.”

You did as Miguel said and trailed behind him to his…office didn’t quite describe it. Work station? Lair? You lasted all of forty-five seconds before your gaze dropped to his sculpted backside, a new record for you.

It really was unfair that the intense, ornery leader of the Spider Society had to be so damn fine. You were a superhero and a consummate professional, but at the end of the day, you were a mostly heterosexual human woman with eyes. Miguel was stupidly sexy. His shoulder-to-waist ratio, that chiseled face, and of course, perfectly round ass had been the topic of a few hushed, giggly conversations between you and the other Spiders that liked boys.

It was only ever cheeky whispers however. All of you knew better than to catch any real feelings for Miguel. One, it was majorly inappropriate. And two, he’d built emotional walls higher than the tallest skyscrapers in Nueva York.

Still, your mind couldn’t help but wander every now and then…you blamed it on your latest breakup. Spider-Girl duties had yet again claimed another potential partner. You suspected that was the reason it was more and more difficult not to fantasize about Miguel lately. Like sure, he was probably an animal in bed in the best way, but it was the prospect of not having to hide anything from him that appealed to you even more.

“Lyla, bring up the latest sequencing,” Miguel ordered.

If it weren’t for your spider-senses, you would’ve collided with his impossibly cut back, you were so deep into your thirsty thoughts.

Suddenly, you were back on Earth-982A in your childhood bedroom. Or at least, that’s where you appeared to be. The virtual surroundings would’ve been comforting if it weren’t for the particular event that Miguel had wanted to revisit.

Your father was forbidding you to use your powers. Again. You gazed at the rendering of your teenage self with compassion. Now, your father was fully supportive of you following in his footsteps, but the journey there had been rough.

“You know, most parents would be happy if their kid wanted to do something to help the world!”

Your dad scoffed. “That doesn’t matter - I’m not most parents and you’re not most kids!”

“Yeah and whose fault is that?!” Virtual you fired back. “I was born like this because of you! Dad, you’re always telling me that ‘with great power, comes great responsibility’ and now when I discover I inherited that great power, I can’t use it!?”

“Pause,” Miguel’s voice spooked you back into the present. When you finally shook yourself from the memory that was playing before you, you found his eyes on yours. “Okay, there. Define ‘always’.”

“Quantitatively?”

“Preferably.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Qualitatively, then.”

“I mean, it's one of those things he said so much that I can’t remember the first time I heard it.”

“When did your dad first hear it?”

“His Uncle Ben told him during their last conversation together.”

“Checks out. And how old was he?”

“He was a senior in high school, so like seventeen, eighteen?”

Miguel nodded. Even though x-ray vision nor telepathy weren’t in your powerset, you could practically see all the comparisons and calculations he was making in his head.

“So using your powers to help people, that was your instinct when you inherited your abilities.”

“Yeah.”

Miguel nodded again.

“It’s different, isn’t it?” you asked him. He didn’t reply. “My dad told me he entered some god awful cage-match-wrestling-thing to get enough money to buy a car and impress my mom before he officially became Spider-Man.”

Miguel was seemingly too busy with entering his latest data to respond. Instead, he barked at Lyla, “Resume sequence.”

The holographic version of your dad lurched back to life to argue, “May, you are my great responsibility! So if I say no powers, no powers! I did this a lot longer than you! ”

Tears streamed down your adolescent face. Thankfully, you’d lost some of the baby fat since. “I hate you! I HATE YOU DAD!!”

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. This wasn’t easy to live, let alone re-live. So, as a Spider, naturally you made a jaunty, off-handed comment. “Wow, you really know how to show a girl a good time.”

“Qué?”

“Nothing.” He fixed you with his signature scowl so you elaborated, “Seriously, nothing. Though, maybe if we did this in an environment where I had access to alcohol and carbs, this would be less um…less unsettling for me.”

Miguel stared at you blankly. “But the simulator is here.”

“Right, of course.” Ughhhh, why was he so damn pretty?! “Forget I said anything, Miguel.”

He dropped it, but before the simulation could start again, your gizmo beeped. Benji’s basketball game started in twenty.

“Actually, sorry, I have to go.”

“But we just got started.”

“I know, but I haven’t been able to catch one of my little brother’s games yet this season, and it’s almost the playoffs.”

“Won’t he under–”

You interrupted Miguel. “You realize spider-stuff is not a viable excuse with my family, right? Besides, it’s my day off. I’m only here out of the goodness of my own heart and my commitment to the Spider-Society.”

He rolled his eyes at your remark, but couldn’t help a little half - nay, quarter - smile from forming across the lips you had fantasized about kissing one too many times. “Things are quiet for once. We should knock this out now.”

“We should,” you conceded as you created a portal, “but trying to have some semblance of work-life balance is Spider-Girl canon.”

And with that, you hopped back into your world, before you could change your mind or say anything else stupid and/or unintentionally flirty to Miguel.

You re-appeared in your apartment with just enough time to throw on clothes and swing over to the middle school. Your mom was waiting as you hurried into the gym right as Benji and the other players were taking the court.

“Look who made it,” MJ observed wryly.

“Ha ha,” you fired back humorlessly, but pulled your mom into a hug all the same. “Where’s Dad?”

The ref’s whistle signaled tip off and the beginning of the game, momentarily distracting you two. You were thrilled to see Benji starting – he really wanted to make JV when he started high school next year, and this was a step in the right direction.

“Go Benji!!” MJ cheered before answering your question, “He hit traffic coming from the station. He’ll be here soon.”

Your collective attention was pulled to the game unfolding in front of you, then MJ asked, “What have you been up to today?”

“Me? I was at the society for a bit, helping with the baby.”

You didn’t need to see your mother to know that she tensed at the mention of the Spider-Society and Peter B.’s Mayday. It, understandably, weirded her out.

“How can it not be strange to care for–”

“It would be if we were closer in age,” you pointed out. “But it’s just like babysitting with Mayday right now. And trust me, after all the versions of Dad I’ve met, hanging out with little me is nothing.”

Despite being weirded out, your mom always tried to empathize, so she switched gears. “Anything interesting happen?”

“Ugh, just more sequencing with Miguel - today was a tough one.”

“Why?”

“Fights with Dad from years ago that I know we’ve moved past, but still suck to watch.”

Your mom took your hand in hers, a much-needed grounding gesture. “Well, you’re back in the present, in your corner of the universe now, sweetie.”

You gave her hand an appreciative squeeze and took her words to heart, focusing on the basketball game in front of you. It didn’t take too long to put the earlier events from headquarters behind you – Benji scored a couple baskets and you took it upon yourself to meticulously document the game on your phone for memories and possible future blackmail.

When your Dad did join you and MJ, you couldn’t help but hug him tightly. You buried your face into his coat, which smelled like a mix of smoke from the streets and his aftershave.

It was Peter’s mix of spider and paternal instincts that prompted him to ask, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you assured him, giving him some space. “I just–I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, Mayhem.” Where Mayday was Peter B’s moniker for his daughter, Mayhem was your dad’s nickname for you.

The game ended in victory for Benji’s team, the Midtown Mavericks, and you three waited for the youngest member of the Parker family to emerge from the locker room.

Benji’s face when he saw you made any lingering discomfort you had leaving Miguel one thousand percent worth it. “You made it!”

“Wouldn’t miss it!” you pulled Benji into a hug - however reluctant he was to it since he was a ~teenager~ now. “Dude, you put up points tonight!”

But Benji had gotten distracted, so instead of responding to you, he murmured “Woah, that guy is swole.”

You turned around to see who he was talking about and your jaw nearly hit the floor.

It was Miguel.

Even more incredibly, he was in civilian clothes. It wasn’t until you witnessed him in dark wash jeans, a henley, and a well-worn bomber jacket that you realized that you’d actually never seen Miguel in anything other than his spider suit.

He called your name and you acknowledged him with a wave, flabbergasted. Even more astonished that you knew this very attractive hunk of man was your brother, “Wait, you know him?!”

“We work together,” you said quietly.

“At the paper?” Benji was confused.

“No, at my other job.”

“Oh,” it clicked for him. “That makes sense. Man, I hope I get that jacked when I get my powers.”

“Shhhh, be cool Benji,” you urged him.

“Um, I’m not the one you have to worry about,” he harrumphed. “Oh shit, you like him.”

Though there was more than a decade between you and Benji, your little brother was still your little brother. “No! He’s the head of the Spider-Society and he’s–you’ll see.”

You took a step forward to greet Miguel before anyone else from your family could get to him. “Hey! What’re you doing here?”

“I wanted to finish our work today, and since it’s your day off, I decided to come to you.”

“Miguel O’Hara making a compromise? How not canon. Wonder how big of a hole that’s gonna tear in the multiverse.”

“Shut up,” he ordered you playfully.

“Miguel, good to see you!” Your dad strode over and pulled the younger spider-man into a handshake.

“You too, Dr. Parker.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at how oddly deferential Miguel was with your dad. He’d met Peter first, when he was establishing the Arachnohumanoid Polymultiverse. Miguel was stunned to discover that this Peter was not only retired, but had a full-grown daughter who’d taken up his crime-fighting mantle. Apparently your dad’s canon was particularly important and central to the greater Spiderverse, which meant Miguel would pester you with questions about him constantly.

“Is everything okay?” Peter asked, “You don’t usually make house calls.”

Before Miguel could explain, an elbow nearly sent you into careening into his broad chest. Mom.

“Miguel, this is my mom, Mary Jane.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker,” Miguel dutifully offered his hand to her.

“The pleasure is mine,” your mom gushed, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Benji was right. He was not the person you had to be worried about. A rip in the multiverse to swallow you whole would be rather convenient right about now.

Miguel’s brow creased. “You have?”

“She hasn’t,” you intervened. “Like two or three things in passing, max. Promise I haven’t broken my NDA or you know, the superhero code of secrecy or anything.”

Mercifully, Miguel let it slide for the time being. He turned to your brother. “And you must be Benji.”

“Yeah,” Benji confirmed, doing a terrible job of pitching his voice lower. “‘Sup, bro.”

Jesus Christ. At this point, you were ready to rip the fabric of reality yourself to end this.

“Congrats on the win. Hate to do this, but I need to steal your sister for a bit.”

“No problem, I know she’s fine with it.” Perhaps Benji needed a reminder regarding which sibling had the super powers. “Also, what’s your workout–”

“Well, as fun as this all is, we should probably get back to work.”

Your family didn’t put up much of a fight – thank God – as pleasantries were exchanged and you and Miguel took off. You hoped Miguel didn’t catch when your mother mouthed “So handsome!!” to you as everyone said their goodbyes. Finally, it was just the two of you walking down East 36th Street.

“Sorry about them,” you began.

He looked at you, puzzled. “Why?”

“My family. Embarrassing.”

“They’re not embarrassing. They’re…they’re nice,” there was pain behind Miguel’s eyes. “It’s interesting. Your brother hasn’t experienced any spider-abilities, has he?”

“No,” you confirmed. “Not yet.��

You two slowed to stop on the corner. Miguel looked at you expectantly. “So, where to?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said you wanted to do this in an environment where you ‘had access to alcohol and carbs’.”

“Oh! Right. Hmmm, where are we?” you looked up at the cross streets above you. “36th and 3rd? I know a place.”

You took Miguel to a little hole-in-the-wall Italian spot nearby. Since it was so close to Benji’s school and your old middle and high school, you had spent many a week night at their tables, either working on homework or chowing down after basketball practice.

Therefore, the staff knew you – it was a family owned spot, you’d basically grown up with the owner’s children, Maria and Chris. Though you graduated from Midtown Charter a looong time ago, they still took care of you. Maria had even let you use their first aid kit once, no questions asked, after a nasty Spider-Girl skirmish nearby. You didn’t suspect she knew anything, but even if she did, you could trust Maria to be discreet.

At least, you thought you could trust Maria, but when she showed you and Miguel to your table, and Miguel made a pit stop at the restroom, she very indiscreetly asked, “Daaaamn, girl. He your boyfriend? Because you–”

“No!”

“You getting dicked down by him?”

“No!”

“Can I get dicked down by him? He single? Does he like the ladies?”

“Maria, he’s a colleague. Actually, he’s my superior. So no…unfortunately, no.”

Maria cackled with delight. “That’s a pen worth sticking in your company ink. I’ll bring you some garlic bread.”

“And a glass of red wine,” you added. “no, a bottle.”

“That’s my girl!”

In theory, you had thought that reviewing sequencing outside of headquarters would’ve been less awkward, but in reality, it was more so. You couldn’t stop drinking in the sight of Miguel in normal clothes, the intimacy of having a meal together when usually your interactions were so sterile and professional, plus there was a little voice in your head screaming that THIS WAS BASICALLY A DATE on repeat.

“So should we pick up where we left off?” Miguel asked. The question brought you back down to Earth. Despite that little persistent voice in your head oohing and ahhing at him, it was clear that Miguel didn’t think this was a date. This dinner was a means to end, nothing more.

“Let me get a little wine drunk first,” you bargained.

“Yeah, but you have sped-up metabolism, so that’ll take at least–”

“That was a joke. Miguel, when was the last time you went out to dinner?”

He seemed to truly consider the question, then, “I don’t know.”

You’d never heard Miguel say those three words in that order before.

“I promise you I will go over my cringe teen years with you, but can we eat some garlic bread and not get drunk off this very nice bottle of wine first?”

“You’re worse than Lyla,” his eyes narrowed.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“She’s always trying to get me to take breaks.”

“You should! There’s only so much self-flagellation a human can take, even if they’re a superhero.”

Miguel’s response was a very inarticulate grumble. Maria dropped off the wine, bread, and took your order. You didn’t know what was more insane – the amount of food Miguel ordered or how unabashedly Maria was ogling him.

“Let me guess, Lyla’s the one who suggested the field trip to my home dimension?”

Another grumble, this one in the affirmative.

“Classic,” you remarked with a snort before taking a gulp from your glass. “I love that your AI is smarter than you.”

“Of course she is, she can access all of the multiverse’s knowledge in a nano-second.’

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?”

“Can we not talk about me for a second?”

“Why?”

“Because…because, I don't know, I was hoping doing this in a more casual environment would–it’d make it feel more like a conversation.”

“We are having a conversation.”

“Jeez, Miguel,” you took another sip of wine. “It’s not easy digging through my past like this. A lot of the time it feels more like an interrogation.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah. And don’t get me wrong, I want to help you, help the Spider-Society, but the one-sidedness of this is exhausting.”

“Exhausting.” He sounded dubious.

“You know what? Forget it. I’ll take care of the bill and see you tomorrow, and we can go back to reviewing the sequencing like we normally do. I should know better than to complain to you.”

Miguel looked at you if your words had stung him. “You can complain to me.”

“No, I can’t,” you disputed. “You’re the most self-sacrificing Spider out of any of us–which is really saying something, by the way–and I feel lame talking about my feelings with you.”

“And that’s why our reviews feel like interrogations,” he was putting it together.

“Yeah. Sorry to drag you out of HQ.”

Miguel scrutinized you with a long, unreadable look before announcing, “I’m not leaving before I have my bolognese.”

You didn’t know whether to smile or scream. Miguel may have lacked the traditional spidey precognitive sense, and the signature spider sense of humor, but he definitely had the stubbornness you all seemed to possess.

You shot him a sidelong glare. “Why did you come here?”

“I told you - I wanted to finish sequencing and Lyla suggested coming to you.”

“But you didn’t have to take her suggestion.”

Miguel’s large frame shifted in the chair that suddenly appeared too small for him. “Like you said, she’s smarter than me, so I did. And yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve gone out to dinner.”

You didn’t know how to react to that. Right before the silence became intolerable, Miguel spoke again, “You still with that gu–’

“No.” The last thing you wanted to talk about with Miguel was your failed relationship with Gene, and you’d once discussed the correlation of getting your first period could’ve had with your powers emerging with him.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I mean, you get it.”

Miguel at last took a sip from his glass. “All too well.”

“The price of being a hero, right?” you sent him a small, sympathetic smile across the table. “Or at least that’s what I tell myself.”

“Your parents seemed to have figured it out,” he pointed out.

“Well, that took like decades, and according to you, they’re canon, right? So it was meant to be. I guess that’s one of the comforts of having a canon-confirmed soulmate.”

“Yeah, if you're Peter Parker.”

Your heart sank at the implication. “So that means if a Spider isn’t Peter we’re meant to die alone?”

“I don’t know,” Miguel’s eyes were averted. “Maybe only if you’re a Miguel O’Hara.”

“Stop, you could get anyone in this restaurant to sleep with you,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Our waitress has to resist climbing on top of you whenever she passes the table.”

He swatted away the implication as if it were a pest. “That’s different.”

“You know, it might help with the stress.”

“What?”

“Letting someone climb on top of you.”

Miguel glared at you, “Don’t.”

“See? It’s not fun being on the other side of the questions,” you smirked. Your conversation was briefly suspended when Maria returned with your entrees. After thanking her, you refocused back on Miguel, “Can I ask you something else?”

“No.”

“DADA!” A child, who couldn’t have been more than three, screeched happily from a neighboring table.

Miguel froze. For the first time in the several months that you’d known him, you saw his face soften. The warmth that filled his eyes at the sight of the toddler was undeniable. The fond expression hardened back into his stoic facade within an instant, yet Miguel couldn’t fully conceal the anguish that clearly still haunted him. He never could.

“Sorry,” you said softly.

He shook off your condolences. “What’d you want to ask me?”

“Have you tried seeing anyone after…” it felt forbidden to say Gabriella’s name out loud.

“What’s the point?” Miguel shrugged. “I don’t have the time, even if I wanted to.”

“Right,” you hedged.

Eventually, you and Miguel were able to find things to talk about outside of work and your respective traumas. You compared notes on the lamest villain you’d each encountered rounding up anomalies, discussed the idea of a nursery for spider-babies, or as Miguel insisted on calling them, “second-generation Spiders” – Peter couldn’t keep taking his kid on missions, plus Jessica Drew had just learned she was expecting – you even got Miguel to open up about his teenage days some.

“Makes sense you were a rebel,” you chuckled, taking one last bite of the tiramisu Maria insisted was on the house.

“Yeah? Why?” Miguel prodded.

“Because you-re so uptigh–upstanding now.”

You were treated to another rare grin from Miguel, this time a half smile rather than a quarter. “Nice save.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you contended with put-on innocence.

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t always like what I have to do, you know.”

Your gaze locked directly with his for a breath-taking second, his eyes garnets in the low light of the dining room. “We should get going, I've taken you away from headquarters for long enough.”

“You act like I’ve never left HQ before, and if anything, I took you away from your family,” Miguel parried, yet stood up nonetheless. You followed suit, only mildly disappointed he didn’t argue with you about leaving. As awkward as this dinner initially was, you’d actually ended up enjoying it. “I’ll take you home.”

Miguel’s words stopped you in your tracks, “You know I’m the protector of this city, right?”

“Obviously, I—” he huffed as you waved goodbye to Maria and exited back onto the street. “Mierda May, I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”

Oh. Oh. Did Miguel think this was a date too? Date was too strong of a word – did Miguel think this was a not-entirely-work-related-hang too?

You struggled to keep your face blasé. “Ah, okay. We taking the subway or are we swinging?”

Miguel shot you a look as if the choice was obvious, which is how you found yourself traipsing across the city with Spider-Man 2099. You’d traveled by web plenty of times with Miguel before on missions, but there was something about it being the two of you, in your city, that made it feel just a little bit special.

And to be honest, you’d never get enough of watching Miguel’s body hurtle through the air – despite his bulk and brawn, he was agile and lithe as he swung from building to building with you. You nearly plunged into traffic on Sixth Avenue after your thoughts had wandered to what those bulging muscles looked like unencumbered by that skin-tight suit of his.

When you arrived at your apartment in Morningside Heights, you were suddenly self-conscious. You’d never brought a Spider to your residence, and Miguel was likely the hardest to impress of them all.

He studied your modest one-bedroom with the same intensity as he did his screens at the Spider-Society.

“It’s not much, I know,” you began, “and with Spider-Girl stuff, I don’t have the time to keep it as tidy as I'd like to.”

“It’s perfect,” he mumbled before catching himself. “I mean, it’s perfect for you.”

“Yeah, I don’t need much, but it gets good light during the day and was the highest floor I could afford at my price point,” you removed your mask as you babbled on.

“Makes sense,” Miguel nodded.

You had no idea where to go from there – what on Earth was the man playing at? Should you offer him water, another drink, the best spot to portal back to HQ? He was lingering in your space, seemingly fascinated by the framed prints on your walls, the photos on the coffee table and credenza.

“Um, do you need to use the restroom or something? Because it’s right through there,” you motioned to the appropriate door.

“I’m good for now.”

THEN WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE? You hollered in your head. Externally, you kept playing hostess, “Let me get you a glass of water then–”

Yet Miguel caught your wrist before you could retreat into your tiny, galley kitchen. You weren’t proud of how your heart leapt and your breath hitched at the contact.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back?”

He shrugged, “I should, but–”

“But what?”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said…about letting someone climb on top of me.”

You gulped, “Sorry, that was so inappropriate of me–”

“It was. Inappropriate, that is, but it doesn’t mean it wasn’t a good idea,” he tugged you closer to him. You could barely stand to meet his eyes, alight with desire, while your heart was pounding embarrassingly fast.

“Um, judging by the–uh, do you want me to climb on top of you, Miguel?” you were always so much smoother in your daydreams about him.

His lips hovered dangerously near yours. “Do you want to climb on top of me?”

The closer you got to Miguel, the faster your brain turned to scrambled eggs. His large, sure hands had settled on your hips.

“Uh huh,” was the best you could muster before he crashed your lips together.

Miguel’s kiss was searing and all-consuming – it felt as if the longer your mouths moved against each other, the more your body melted into his. He was tall, so tall, and even for a superhero like yourself, it was difficult to keep yourself perched on the balls of your feet to reach his skilled, hungry mouth.

He seemed to sense your struggle, and without breaking your liplock, he scooped you up into his arms. It was foreign but not unwelcome – you were so used to being the strongest, the person who held others, the hero. Therefore, being held so effortlessly in Miguel’s arms was nothing short of exhilarating. You weren’t the strongest person in the room anymore, you could surrender. You loved it.

Miguel pressed your back into the nearest wall, causing an emphatic moan to leave you when your hips became flush with his. You could already feel him – hot, hard, and big – between the flimsy fabric of your spider-suits. Instinctually, you canted your heat against his, delighting in the way he seemed to grow hotter, harder, not to mention unbelievably bigger, when you did.

“Bedroom?” he gasped between harsh, ardent kisses.

You managed to fling a hand in the correct direction, and next thing you knew, Miguel was depositing you onto your bed. You propped yourself up, leaning back on your palms to take in the man towering over you at the edge of your bed. In a flash of color and light, his suit disappeared from his strapping physique, and the sight of Miguel naked intoxicated you more than alcohol ever could.

His shoulders seemed even broader without the unstable particles of his suit covering them. His pecs were massive, which made a delectable ratio when his chest tapered down to a chiseled abdomen and slim hips. Slim hips that framed the biggest cock you’d seen outside of porn – hell, maybe even including porn. He was long and thick – it made a dark thrill race down your spine when you contemplated how the hell that was going to fit inside of you.

Miguel noticed you marveling at his package, misinterpreting the rapacious glint in your eye as unease, “I’ll prep you, I won’t hurt you.”

“Oh, I’m not worried” you glanced back up at his face coquettishly.

“No?” Miguel cocked an eyebrow and advanced toward you on the bed, a jaguar stalking its prey. He nudged you onto your back and pinned your wrists to your comforter, “maybe you should be.”

You muscled out of Miguel’s grip and switched positions so you were straddling him. Only then did you lean closer and whisper into his ear, “I can take it.”

Miguel growled, and within an instant, you were on your back once again as he pawed at your suit. Unlike his costume, your spider-suit was made of plain old fabric, so there was a bit of fumbling, cursing in Spanish, nervous giggling, and a mumbled comment about ‘making you a suit like mine’ from Miguel before you were nude as well.

He splayed you out against your mattress as if you were a feast before him. Your first instinct was to try and cover yourself but Miguel’s dark gaze froze you. A pleased groan rumbled from his chest and then his large hands flew to your breasts. “Such full, perky tits.”

You moaned in response to his ministrations. How was this real? You and Miguel were touching each other – naked – and you hadn’t woken up yet.

“It’s all for you,” you mewled, relishing his hot palms on your sensitive buds.

Another growl ripped from his chest before he swooped down and sucked one of your nipples into his warm, wanting mouth. You keened, a pathetic, high-pitched sound, and you wove your fingers into his dark locks as he gorged himself on your tits.

The pull of Miguel’s mouth on your peaks was made only better when he snaked a hand between your legs and ran a finger along the seam of your sex. You bucked at the touch, your reaction causing Miguel to lift his head from your bosom.

“Mmmm, you like it when I play with your pussy, cariño?”

At this point words had all but left you so you nodded and whined in the affirmative. Miguel’s digit parted your folds, tracing up and down, then found your clit and rubbed slow, tortuous circles into the nub.

“So wet for me, bebita,” he observed, maddeningly casually, while he played you like an instrument. “This is all for me, huh?”

Your head thrashed back and forth on your comforter with a sob, both from pleasure and bashfulness. Now there was no downplaying how horny Miguel made you.

“Shhh,” he cooed at you, taking one of your hands and bringing it to his groin, “feel what you do to me.”

This time your moan was unabashed as your hand circled around his girth. “Fuck, you’re so big.”

“I know,” he grunted. Normally, such braggadocio from a man would be an immediate turn off to you. But Miguel wasn’t being arrogant, not when he was referring to the thick, pulsing hardness you were currently caressing. “Gotta get you ready for me.”

He guided your hand away from his member, even despite your protests, to wrench your thighs wider and bury his head between them. The realization alone that Miguel O’Hara was about to eat you out almost made you come, yet actually feeling his tongue on your needy cunt was infinitely better. He licked a stripe from your perineum to your clit, tearing another ragged moan from you when his tongue focused in on the bundle of nerves.

Miguel chuckled against your folds at your enthusiastic praise and redoubled his efforts. Your fingers reflexively tangled in his inky locks once again as he continued his delectable assault on your pussy. The way Miguel tasted you matched with how he seemed to approach everything – he was vehement and determined to bring you pleasure like how he was when he worked. He managed to just stay on the right side of rough as he slurped at you..though perhaps that was a bit different than how he fought.

He speared his tongue into your hole, affording you the opportunity to grind your clit against his prominent nose. In your pleasure-filled haze, you briefly fretted that you were suffocating Miguel, but when you tried to scooch away and give him some air, the man grunted and pulled your hips closer to him.

You keened again when one of his thick fingers joined the fray as he prepped you. After all the sexual tension, all the self-denial, and all the excitement the night had held, it felt so good to clench around something. He was again methodical with his preparation, allowing you to adjust to one digit before adding another, and another. It couldn’t have made a starker contrast with how he was devouring your sex. Even in the bedroom, Miguel O’Hara was full of contradictions. It didn’t take long for your breaths to become more shallow, for your cries to reach a higher pitch as you climaxed around his hefty fingers. The combination of the penetration and the stimulation of your clit with his mouth was too good to resist.

You were slightly relieved that Miguel remained nestled between your legs while you rode out your peak. The orgasm he’d given you was much too good to be able to control your facial expressions.

He at last came up for air once you’d begun floating down from your peak. A primal pride surged through you at the sight of your juices smeared all over his lips and chin. You couldn’t help but smash your mouths together, eager to sample the combination you two made. It was all too easy to get lost in a kiss with Miguel, yet as you plundered his mouth with your tongue, your hand crept back down his groin.

This time it was Miguel who moaned into your mouth as you returned him to full mast with feather-light, teasing touches.

“I need to fuck you,” he gasped between kisses.

“Finally,” you bantered back.

A growl from Miguel and then he tackled you back flat on the bed. You couldn’t help the giggle – partly from nerves, partly from anticipation – that escaped you at his actions, despite the visage of a hulking, intimidating man hovering over you could be frightening in another context.

“Do you have protection?”

You hesitated. You kept a box of condoms in your bedside drawer, but given Miguel’s size, they’d be inadequate.

“None that would fit you,” you confessed, stealing another glance at his large erection. It was truly a sight to behold. Miguel deflated slightly, fearing penetration was off the table, and usually it would be. You were firmly a two methods of contraception girl, but there was no way you were going to pass up this chance to have sex with Miguel. “Don’t worry Spidey, I’m on the pill.”

“Gracias a Dios,” he muttered, then wasted no time situating himself between your hips. He drew yet another mewl from you when he slapped the tip of his cock a few times on your clit before lining himself up with your entrance.

He found you looking at him expectantly. And though Miguel mostly saw desire in your eyes, he could see the glimpse of unease too. He assured you, “I’ll go slow.”

You nodded, you trusted him after all, but nothing could prepare you for the stretch of when Miguel finally pushed into you. Just the tip was already splitting you apart more than Gene, or any former lover for that matter, ever had.

“Breathe,” Miguel rasped. You couldn’t tell if he was advising you or himself though. It struck you then that you’d perhaps achieved the damn-near impossible – disarming the notoriously closed-off Miguel O’Hara. He looked beautiful, biting his plush lower lip as he slowly rocked more and more of his huge cock inside of you.

Your back arched off the mattress of the sensation of being progressively speared on the monster that Miguel called a dick. It was too much and not enough all at once, and your fingers dug into your comforter below you. He tried to distract you from any potential pain, Miguel’s index finger returning to your barely-recovered clit.

“That’s it, open up for me,” he husked. Your head swam at the mix of his enormous manhood stretching you to your limit and his tender, in-control tone. The realization hit you harder than a punch from an anomaly. In that moment, fear skittered down your throat and pooled into your stomach, resting right above where you two were joined. He’s going to ruin me for other men, isn’t he?

You couldn’t think any further since not only was Miguel fully seated within you, he had asked you a question. Your eyes glassy and pupils blown, found his, and he repeated himself. “You okay? Can-can I move?”

“Yes,” you gasped. In case your breath affirmation left any room for doubt, you added, “please.”

Another grunt from your lover and Miguel at last began to thrust into you. Your arms flew from the bed to his impossibly wide shoulders, your nails digging into the caramel, taut skin there. You couldn’t tell exactly when it’d happened, lost in the deliciously lewd sounds you were making between the slap of your bodies, your labored breaths, and his determined staccato grunts while Miguel railed you, but your hips had begun to meet his.

“M-more Miguel,” you urged him as you dragged your fingertips down the expanse of his back. Each of your hands grabbed a fistful of that glorious ass and squeezed to drive home your point.

“You sure?”

You moaned. It was as if he couldn’t give it to you hard or faster enough. You used your grip on the globes of his perfect rear to try and force him to increase to the pace and force you needed him to fuck you at.

Miguel laughed. A dark and stirring sound that made you involuntarily tighten around his girthy length. “Alright bebita, but remember…you asked for this.”

His words ignited something defiant within you. You pulled Miguel’s head from where it had fallen into the crook of your neck so you could look him in the eyes when you said, “I’m not some pillow princess from Nueva. I’m just as strong as you are, I can go just as hard you can, and I want you to fuck me.”

Your lover’s eyes darkened at your demand. The growl that ripped from his throat was your only warning before Miguel unleashed the full force of his strength on you. You keened in pleasure as he all but drove you through your bedframe and the wall behind it. Miguel captured your wrists once more and restrained you against the mattress as he absolutely pounded into your pussy.

His drilling drew another ecstatic cry from your mouth. Miguel glared down at you, his eyes nearly crazed, his face barely lit in the ambient light from the street. It truly was infuriating to you how beautiful this man was. You watched his brow furrowed in concentration – not on his stupid screens for once – and his dark hair shift in time with his thrusts. Your features contorted in pleasure when Miguel switched from drilling into you to swiveling his hips to stuff you with his cock. His movements were deliberate and slow, he was trying to get as deep inside of you as he could. You almost went cross-eyed at the feel of his bulbous cockhead punching against your cervix.

The criminal undulations of his hips extracted a little yip from you each time he pistoned into you. He grinned down at you wolfishly. Equal parts indignation and arousal bloomed within you. Also, was the first time you'd ever seen Miguel smile? Not a little half-smirk or a humorless quirk of his lips, but an unabashed smile?

“Want me to back off?”

Oh, there was no way you were going to take that lying down. Even if Miguel’s pubic bone was perfectly grinding into your clit.

You let out a growl of your own and summoned all the power in your core muscles to wrestle Miguel back and claim the high ground. Out of breath when you found yourself seated on Miguel’s dick, his large, muscled body prone beneath you, you braced yourself on his rippled abdomen.

“Is the itsy-bitsy Spider-Girl gonna ride my cock?” he taunted you. If Miguel didn’t wear that arrogant, playful smirk so well, you would’ve wiped it from his lips.

You slid your hands up the length of his chest and leaned over, your face hovering over his. “That depends. Can 2099 handle it?”

Miguel answered you with an impatient buck of his hips up into your sex. You giggled as you straightened up again, tweaking one of Miguel's nipples as you went. You relished the little shudder it sent through him. “Alright, but remember baby, you asked for this.”

He snorted out a laugh, which you quickly silenced once you began riding Miguel like the stud he was. “Hnnn–shock, bebita.”

“Ah,” you sighed as you bounced on his prick. Before sleeping with Miguel, you had assumed the term “feeling him in your guts” was hyperbole. Not with him. “Fuck, you’re even bigger like this.”

A large hand traced its way up one of your thighs, now lightly covered with a sheen of sweat, past your sex, split apart by his shaft, to where Miguel’s manhood made the slightest bulge in your lower belly. His smile became wider and even cockier. “It’s good, no?”

You gave him a nonverbal, but enthusiastic, reply. He smacked your ass in satisfaction, “Yeah c’mon, cariño, ride me. Wanna watch your tits bounce.”

You officially hated Miguel and his big, thick, perfectly sized cock. Where as with other partners you’d smack them right back with a zinger, all you could do was moan again. His naughty, domineering words did nothing but excite you. There was something about him and the way he fucked that made you incapable of doing little else than enthusiastically submitting to him. You leaned back, your fingers clutching onto Miguel’s thick thighs to stability as you changed angles and gave him a better view of your breasts jiggling in time with your motions.

“Ay, sí bebita,” Miguel’s hands flew to your hips to intensify the frantic mashing of your bodies together, “Ven aquí.”

He gathered your torso in his hulking arms and pulled you closer so that he could coax a breast into his mouth again as you rode him.

“You gonna come for me Miguel?” you panted.

“No,” he sounded as winded as you were. “Not yet.”

You clenched around him and snickered. “Are you sure?”

“¡Coño!” Miguel snarled at the feel of your already blistering, tight pussy suffocating his dick further. “¡No más – basta de esto!”

The vision of your bedroom swam when Miguel lifted you off his pulsing member and dropped you back on your stomach onto the mattress facing the foot of the bed.. You could hear him shifting behind you, and you blindly groped for the lower metal railing of your bedframe’s footboard, only vaguely aware what was to come.

A grunt from Miguel, and the next thing you knew one of your pillows was stuffed under your lower belly and his massive hands were back on either side of your hips. Your lover didn’t give you any notice before shoving his fat erection back inside of your already tender pussy.

You shouted at the feeling of his cock stuffing you to the brim once again. Miguel’s hands appeared above your head where you held on for dear life as he impaled you on his prick.

“Ahhh!” you clamored, desperately trying to pull enough air in your lungs to function as Miguel squatted behind you. “I’ve never been so full! Oh God, Miguel, it’s so much…so much…”

Miguel responded with a pleased growl, and merely rammed into you harder. You were peripherally aware of the clanging of the pieces of your metal bed frame clanging together in protest at the vigor of your and Miguel’s coupling, but there were too many sensations overwhelming you at once to focus on one in particular. Not even when the metal groaned and the angle Miguel fucked you at changed did you pay attention to what was actually happening. You merely pushed back onto his cock as much as you could, your fingertips scrabbling into the folds of your comforter.

Your eyes screwed shut at the barrage of stimuli - the unrelenting stretch of Miguel’s hardness, his harsh but steadying grip on your hips, the light scratch of fabric beneath you on your skin, the little puff of warmth on the back of your neck from Miguel’s labored exhalations. You were sure this was better than any high any drug could provide. You hadn’t tried many, not even Rapture, and but nothing could top being thoroughly fucked into your mattress by Miguel O’Hara.

Miguel’s dogged grunts morphed into shouts when he at last found his release, spurting rope after rope of hot, creamy cum into your welcoming cunt. You found yourself crying out along with him as he emptied his load, your walls bearing down around his length as you both rode out his high. Miguel flooded your pussy with his seed and before you could even try to adjust to the feeling, he withdrew his cock from you, tearing a quite pathetic-sounding whimper from your mouth.

Miguel pulled your ass cheeks apart to examine your stretched, puffy pussy leaking his cum. His chest rumbled with primal delight. “Hermosa.”

You’d barely had a chance to catch your breath when Miguel dove back in for more, this time his eager, demanding tongue again invading your channel. You whimpered again, your pitch jumping an octave at Miguel’s needy tongue not only collecting his spunk from your pussy, but flicking the muscle against your clit. He was a man possessed, he ate you out as if he needed you to orgasm one more time for his survival.

You gave him what he wanted (how could you not?), and once the crest of your pleasure had subsided, you lightly pushed him away from your gaping, abused cunt.

The first thing you noticed when your wits returned to you was how much closer the ground had become.

“Oh my God,” you put it together and turned to face your partner, "we broke the bed.”

Miguel arched a brow from where he leant back into the pillows. “Are you surprised?”

You frowned at him.

“I’ll fix it,” he promised.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’m going to…” you trailed off your gaze floating to the bathroom.

“Do your thing.”

“Can…can I get you anything?”

Miguel glanced down at his crotch. “A towel?”

You nodded. “Say no more.”

You ducked into your en-suite, and once you were sure the door was firmly closed behind you, you proceeded to have a freak out to yourself in the mirror. You scarcely believe your own appearance – lips kiss swollen, hair a veritable bird's nest, your mascara smudged into rings around your eyes. Miguel had destroyed you in the best of ways.

The thought sent a little aftershock of pleasure through you. You didn’t dally any longer — you relieved yourself, washed your hands, ran a brush through your hair and splashed water on your face. After dampening a washcloth for Miguel, you returned to the bedroom, where your bed frame was properly vertical again.

You glimpsed the glow of Miguel’s distinctive red webs holding the broken metal rods together. The other Spider was reclining on your mattress, a sheet haphazardly tossed over his groin to preserve his modesty. Even so, the sight of him made you go weak in the knees. He really did remind you of some sort of a large cat given the odd grace in which he lounged with, the evidence of his power and strength so poorly hidden under the surface of his skin.

“Get a new frame and expense it to Spider-HQ,” Miguel's baritone snapped you out of your reverie.

“Oh, okay. Thanks,” You tossed him the towel.

His eyes raked over your naked form. But instead of the desire you’d found there earlier, his gaze was full of concern. “You okay?”

“Yes. Very okay. A little sore but good sore, ya know?”

“Good,” Miguel busied himself with cleaning up.

“I mean, what’s the point of having superpowers if you can’t enjoy extra rough sex?” you joked.

“Yeah, about that,” Miguel refused to meet your eyes. “As um…great as all this was…I think we–it should be a one-time thing.”

“Um, duh.” He looked up at you hastily and you continued, “Miguel, neither of us are anywhere close to ready or in the right place for a relationship.”

Your heart disagreed with your words, but you uttered them anyway. Not because it was how you truly felt, but you knew it was what he wanted to hear. Miguel associated any sense of closeness or vulnerability with weakness and danger. Trying to get him to see otherwise was a fool's errand, and it was easier on your heart to convince yourself into concurring with him.

Oddly, Miguel didn’t seem to relax at your assurances. He looked dubious. “Are you sure?”

“Oh my God, you are so cocky!” you accused him with a playful slap to the broad, tan chest. “Spare me the fake worry 2099, you may be amazing at sex, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be able to be professional with you at HQ.”

“Amazing at sex?” Mirguel parroted you with a smirk.

You slapped him again. “Of course that’s the only part you heard.”

“Sorry but those are very distracting,” he claimed, his gaze focused on your exposed breasts.

You scoffed and grabbed a pillow to temporarily cover yourself. “Hang on there, Spider-Man. Yes, you are…not terrible at showing a lady a good time, no, you don’t have to worry about me being clingy at work, and yes, I’m sure so stop looking at me like that!”

You tossed the pillow away and straddled him. “Now I don’t know about you, but it’s only midnight. If this is indeed a one-time thing, I say we make the most of the night and the fact that no one has bothered us with some multiversal emergency yet.”

Miguel finally let it go, choosing to focus on your very nude body on top of his. His hips moved on their own accord, grinding his cock, already stiffening back up to full mast, against where you were still so nice and stretched for him.

“Vamos, bebita,” he whispered into your ear. His fingers dug into your sides possessively in a way that almost let you believe he was doing it because you were his. “Wanna fuck you on the ceiling.”

***

You shouldn't have been surprised that Miguel didn’t stay the night. You were honestly shocked when he collapsed beside you after the hours you’d spent vehemently fucking. Your bed was now held together by a mix of both his and your webs, one of your framed photos on the wall lay shattered on the floor to be dealt with later, and the ceiling now sported a dent that was going to be very difficult to explain to your landlord.

The memory of Miguel leaving was hazy at best. After so many rounds of deeply satisfying, intensely athletic sex, you felt like you could sleep for a week. Yet the shift and dip of Miguel’s large frame exiting the bed was enough to wake you. You could sort of recall a small flash of light and chirpy voice which must have been Lyla…and you also had a vague memory of him replying in a hushed rumble as if not to wake you up. Or was he telling you he was heading out? Everything jumbled together under the fog of sleep.

Either way, you had to tell yourself that the sensation of a large hand caressing your face and then tenderly stroking down the sleep-warm skin of your back was a dream. Not for Miguel’s sake, but yours.

Thanks to super-spider stamina, you only really needed a couple extra shots of espresso to function somewhat normally the following day at headquarters. You were angry at your instinct to avoid Miguel. You both were adults that had an adult, mature conversation that last night’s activities were merely a form of stress release that didn’t mean anything. It was hard to believe however, when you could still feel the phantom shape of him inside of you.

Besides, it’s not even like you could avoid him if you wanted to. You were scheduled to go over more sequencing today with Miguel, and you were dead set on not blinking first in the post-sex-awkwardness stand-off.

“Hey, Miguel!” your voice reverberated in the vast space.

Several agonizing moments later, his platform lowered enough for you two to start conversing. If he was at all bashful about seeing you, the man didn’t show it.

“Good. You’re here.”

“Yep.”

Miguel was all business. “I want to go back to the fight you had with your father. Lyla, take us to timestamp 46:90:45.”

Damn, and here you thought you were good at compartmentalizing. You did your best to hide any disappointment from reaching your face, playing along as if he hadn’t seen every crevice of your body the night before.

***

Days turned into weeks, and you eventually, reluctantly accepted that Miguel had told you the truth that night. What you two had shared was really just a one-time lapse of his frighteningly strong self-restraint.

You were enjoying a rare night in, parked on the couch, takeout boxes strewn about the coffee table, your favorite trashy reality show playing on your TV. You’d gotten injured taking down a Doc Ock variant a few days ago, and Miguel benched you to recuperate. You were all too happy to take a break, from him and Spider-Girling. Despite your complicated feelings for the man, he assigned a recently displaced Spider, Spider-Woman 1357, to pinch hit for you in your dimension while you healed up. It was the first time since you became a hero you had a day off with peace of mind.

Just as you started another episode, a tingle raced down your spine. Your spider-sense. Something was about to happen. Out of all the possibilities of what could have followed, a portal opening in your living room and Miguel walking through was the last thing you would’ve guessed. You leapt up from the sofa.

You instantly regretted your appearance - messy bun, no makeup, and ratty sweatpants. Miguel, as usual, looked immaculate in his skintight spider-suit.

“Hey.”

“Is this a booty call?”

“No.”

“Don’t bullshit me–”

“It’s not, I swear! Coño, I came to check on you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Why not?”

“Because you could have messaged me on my gizmo. It’s your preferred method of communication after all, ever since the last time you were in my apartment.”

“May–”

Lyla appeared over his shoulder. “He missed you, that’s all.”

Miguel growled at his AI. “I’m going to sentence you to robot death via spreadsheets.”

Lyla wasn’t threatened in the slightest. “Thank me later.” She disappeared before Miguel could try and make another retort.

“You missed me?”

“No,” his denial was instant. “I just…I–”

“This is a booty call!” you crumpled up a napkin and chucked it at his large form. “Go home, Miguel!”

He didn’t budge. “It’s not a booty call. I…what are you watching?”

“The Realest Housewives of Manhattan. What, don’t judge me!”

Miguel couldn't keep his face straight. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Seeing his eyes crinkle with amusement was infectious. You threw another napkin ball at him and then composed yourself. He wasn’t getting off the hook this easily. “Why are you here? Be honest with me. It’s the very least I deserve.”

“I wanted to see the shocking expensive bed frame you expensed to HQ for myself.”

“You said I could and you didn't set a spending limit.” A wicked little grin pulled at the corners of your mouth. The bed frame from Restoration Hardware had been your own private form of revenge. “And I’m supposed to believe you wanting to see my bed – my bed that you broke–”

“Hey! We broke the bed–”

“--is not your thinly veiled excuse for seeking another roll in the hay? Enough with goddamn mind games Miguel.” He tried to speak but you pushed on, “I’m tired and this is the last thing I need.”

Miguel sobered. He hung his head. His mouth seemed to fight the words as they left his lips. “Alright, fine. I missed you.”

You ignored your heartbeat’s sharp increase and schooled your features to maintain a neutral appearance. “I have some extra Pad Thai if you want.”

“Sounds good.”

“So this may not be a booty call, but does anyone other than Lyla know you’re here?”

“No.”

You nodded. “Come. Sit. I just started the episode where Beverly throws her poodle a forty thousand dollar birthday party.”

“Nothing you said just now made sense,” Miguel protested, but took a seat on your couch anyway.

A/N: Hope y'all enjoyed!! Miguel has fully rotted my brain so I thought it only fair to share the horniness. Of course I have more imagined in this AU, fingers crossed I can find more time to write (comments and reblogs and likes help!)

Translations:

Mierda - Shit

cariño - dear

bebita - baby

Gracias a Dios - Thank God

Ven aquí - Come here

¡Coño! - Damnit!

¡No más – basta de esto! -No more, enough of this!

Hermosa - beautiful

Vamos, bebita - Come on, baby

Taglist: @plethora-of-imagines, @itdobe-liza @absolutelybloodyhopeless @ninebluehearts, @oscarissac2099 @trinthealternate

#miguel smut #miguel x reader #miguel 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel x you #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac fanfic #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fanfic #we're not here to f*ck spiders

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chelseeebe · 1 year

Text

dirty little secret.

NOT MY GIF!

summary: a babysitting gig at one of your dad's employee's houses leads to a filthy affair of secrets with a certain mr. harrington.

a/n: i have not proofread this one bit, i just wanted to get it posted so i could start on some ghostface!steddie hehe. i suppose this is another installment of the older!steve/mr.harrington saga though in my head they're different people.

he's a scummy scumbag but that's okay because it's sexy (don’t do this irl) smut and inappropriate relationship dynamics. r is 23/24 and steve is mid 40's ish.

it had all started fairly innocently.

a simple phone call asking if you could do some last minute babysitting. sure. easy enough.

earn some extra cash for doing absolutely nothing.

your dad had recommended you. someone who worked for him, steve or something or other, you’d met him before but that was years ago when you were much younger.

christ, you had a degree now. navigating the post-grad world. not with much luck.

the actual babysitting had been simple enough, feed the kids, put them to bed and now you could just relax.

the house was huge. obviously not decorated by a man, or at least not on his own. it was all meticulously designed, you’d never know there were kids living here. or anybody at all for that sake.

you’re lounging on the sparkling white couch waiting for this illusive steve to get back from wherever. your dad had said eleven but it was well past.

he makes an appearance at quarter to twelve, sighing loudly as he steps into the large hallway. the door makes you jump, sitting up straight on the sofa as if it were illegal to be sitting comfortably on such an expensive piece of furniture.

you peer over the back of the couch as he walks into the living room. finally putting a face to the name. you’d gone to his wedding reception so many years back, unhappy and moody as you’d been dragged along.

‘i am so sorry,’ he says, shaking his head and removing the tailored suit jacket, slinging it over a chair, ‘the dinner ran over and then it was just awful traffic.. how were they? i hope they didn’t give you too much shit,’ chuckling deeply.

‘no.. no, they were great,’ you nod, smiling weakly, standing up to gather your things and finally leave.

you couldn’t help but notice how tight his shirt was, clinging onto his defined arms. you draw your eyes away quickly, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

‘good,’ he breathes, pouring himself a glass of whisky out of the obviously insanely expensive bottle, ‘d’you drink?’ offering a glass to you.

‘uhh.. not whisky,’ laughing quietly, still standing awkwardly in the middle of the obscenely large room.

‘it’s good stuff,’ he shrugs, still holding the second glass to you.

‘i’m okay.. thank you though,’ you nod, stepping closer to him. he smelled great. expensive.

‘fair enough,’ he laughs, taking a short sip, ‘right.. you wanna be paid,’ digging around his pocket for his wallet.

his pants also incredibly well fitted. there’s no need to mention what they were showcasing.

you give him a tight lipped smile, looking anywhere but his crotch.

his wallet is almost overflowing, stuffed with notes and various cards. you try not to gawp at the sight. your dad most definitely did not flex like this.

he hands you four fifty dollar bills, holding the pile in your palm. fingers clasping your hand. the sensation alone is enough to give you butterflies.

‘that’s too much,’ you shake your head, trying to refuse. a whole two hundred dollars to make mac and cheese and watch television.

‘no no, take it, thank you for coming so last minute, have you got a ride home? i can get you a cab?’ he nods, maintaining heavy eye contact, honestly making you squirm.

‘i drove.. thank you so much,’ placing the notes into your bag, still under his heavy gaze.

‘okay,’ he smiles, ‘i’ll uh- i’ll get your number from your dad for next time.. if you don’t mind?’

‘uhh..yeah sure.’

‘great.. thank you, again,’ his hand brushes against your arm, causing the goosebumps to rise instantly.

you give him one last shy smile and walk to the oversized front door. baffled by the things you were feeling. the small yearning feeling bubbling in your stomach. a man god knows how many years your senior. it felt wrong.

dirty.

the next time you babysit for him, he’s prepared. a bottle of fancy vodka left next to the whisky.

‘you’re a vodka girl, right? i can tell,’ he winks, a deep laugh erupting from his throat as he pours the clear liquid into a glass.

‘ahh.. how’d you know?’ you smile, not wanting to refuse the man, especially as he’d gone out of his way to get this for you.

he taps his temple, holding the drink out to you, ‘intuition..’

the conversation flows on, telling him about your degree and where you planned to go with it. him humbly flexing his own work, talking about the various connections he could make for you.

‘i know you’re robert’s daughter but i just.. i feel like i’ve seen you before,’ his eyebrows squeeze together, knee almost touching yours as his legs spread across the sofa.

‘i uh- i actually went to your wedding, the reception at least,’ you laugh, still heavily avoiding eye contact even though you could feel his eyes boring into your face.

‘oh my god, that’s right.. you were miserable,’ his laughter rumbles through the room, if the house weren’t so big you’d be worried about it waking the kids. not a chance they could hear a thing in this mansion.

‘i was.. i didn’t know you! my dad made us go,’ you giggle, just about meeting his dark eyes before quickly glancing down at his hand grasping the glass, noticing the lack of wedding ring.

he notices, rubbing the empty finger, ‘no,’ chuckling, ‘we’re not.. if you were wondering,’ you can’t tell if it’s a smirk or just his slightly tipsy smile.

‘sorry,’ you breathe, awkward that he’d noticed your attempt at subtlety.

‘don’t be.. we’re still married for now, but we’re not together,’ he nods, seemingly unaffected by the separation.

‘oh.. right,’ you chuckle, unsure of how you’d ended up discussing his divorce at midnight on a friday night. it wasn’t exactly anywhere near where you’d pictured yourself being after graduation.

‘d’you have a boyfriend?’ he asks, shifting slightly to face more towards you, still nursing the neat whisky.

you shake your head, ‘no.. not at the moment,’ staring just past him as to not make direct eye contact.

‘oh, i thought for sure someone would’ve snatched you up,’ his gaze falters, lingering on your exposed thigh, your skirt had slightly ridden up as you’d sat.

‘surprisingly not,’ weary as to whether you should pull your skirt down or let his eyes loiter. opting for the latter.

the attention was nice. unexpected. but not unappreciated. it made your stomach tight, slightly intimidated by his dark eyes.

‘hmm, that’s a shame,’ his tongue runs along his bottom lip, eyes slowly making their way up to meet yours.

you don’t know what to do. where to leave your eyes. his intense stare only worsening your composure. you’d have probably thrown yourself at him if he didn’t answer to your dad. complicating matters immensely.

‘you want another drink?’ he asks, leaning closer, shaking his own empty glass.

‘no.. thank you,’ the words struggle to come out, throat dry at the proximity of his body to yours. the smell of whisky and his cologne mixing to create an intoxicating smell.

‘sure?’ he reiterates, smirking as his eyes fall to your parted lips. mostly trying to regain air into your lungs.

your breath hitches in your throat, suddenly unable to speak, watching as he slowly moves over. cocky smile plastered across his face, relishing in your spreading blush.

he brings his face to within just a few inches of yours, pausing, ‘tell me if this is too much,’ the feel of his breath against your nose.

you shake your head slightly, almost paralysed by his eyes. it was confirmation enough for steve. his lips brushing yours softly, as his free hand moves to rest just above your knee.

your lips move with his, tasting the remnants of the expensive alcohol as his tongue glides across your bottom lip and into your mouth. a quiet gasp comes out as his fingers slide up your leg, his smirk evident against your mouth.

letting him take full control of the kiss, leaning back as his chest presses against yours. he takes full advantage of your new position, fingers creeping up your already short skirt.

you move back fully, back against the soft cushions. he doesn’t break the kiss as he moves on top, sliding between your now open legs, groaning into your mouth when your hands finally touch him.

resting on his shoulders as he manoeuvres his body, fitting perfectly with yours. he pulls back from the kiss, taking a brief moment to catch his breath, looking into your eyes for encouragement.

you haven’t enough time to process anything before his hips begin to move against yours, lips now attacking your jaw line. peppering kisses and gentle nibbles to the skin, eliciting a barely audible moan from your throat.

his hand had found it’s way to your panties, fingers rubbing against the cotton, ‘holy shit,’ he mumbles into your neck, ‘you’re already soaked.’

you recoil, burying your face into the pillow next to your head. this only makes him laugh, his body vibrating against yours as your panties are pushed aside, two fingers circling your entrance before slipping inside.

‘shit,’ you curse into the pillow, gripping onto his shirt.

his other hand comes up, coaxing your face out of the pillow with a gentle hand. when you finally emerge you can feel your cheeks heat up, his blown out pupils gazing back at you.

‘look at me,’ his voice bellows out, ensuring your attention stays firmly on him. you almost want to look away, just to see what he’d do.

there’s a small voice from somewhere up the stairs, ‘daddy,’ it whines and steve groans above you.

‘shit.. two minutes,’ he curses, removing his hand from underneath your skirt, climbing off of the couch.

you’re immediately jolted back to earth. back to mr. harrington’s living room where you were immodestly dressed. you sit up, face screwed up in disgust at your frankly whorish actions and pull your skirt down to an appropriate length.

‘fuck,’ you hiss to yourself, what the hell where you doing? screwing around with your dad’s employee who by the way, was at least double your age, was not on your cards.

you stand, frantic to gather your things and escape before he comes back down. you’d just ignore him if he called again. you could cut the loss on whatever you were owed for tonight.

you’re halfway down the long corridor when he creeps down the stairs, ‘sneaking out?’ his voice appears from behind, making you jump halfway out of your skin.

spinning on your heel to face him, every part of your body heating up with embarrassment, ‘i should get home..’

‘you don’t have to.. stay,’ he grins, walking towards you, one hand brushing against your arm.

you swallow, knowing exactly where that hand had been just minutes earlier. the feel of his bulge moving against your thigh. you almost shudder at the thought.

‘i shouldn’t..’ you manage to squeak out, mind preoccupied by what was hidden under those tight-fitted suit pants.

‘it’s late, i’m sure your dad wouldn’t want you driving at this time,’ he bargains, fingers squeezing around your arm.

‘okay,’ you breathe, relinquishing your stance, it seems it didn’t take much.

‘good,’ he nods, a smug expression overtakes his features, ‘give me two minutes,’ letting go of your arm and walking back into the dimly living room.

you stand awkwardly in the hallway, clutching your small bag and waiting for him to return from whatever the fuck he was doing. it was honestly made worse with the anticipation of what was to come. it was inevitable.

the light snaps off and he re-emerges, clutching onto a small glass of whiskey, motioning for you to climb the stairs.

you oblige as he follows closely, spare hand reaching up to rest on the small of your back.

‘ah.. i don’t think the guest bedroom has been cleaned.. i can make up the bed for you quickly if you want?’ he hushes, hand dropping to hover just above your ass.

you roll your eyes instinctively, it would seem men never grow out of the awful frat-boy tactics. he feigns shock for a brief moment before guiding you further up the hallway, towards his own room.

you hold your breath, entering the room. a large bed with silk covers takes up most of the room. he closes the door softly behind him, flicking on the lamp and setting his drink on the bedside table.

you marvel at the room, the extravagance of it all. it honestly could’ve passed as a five star hotel. he walks back over to you, running his hands around your rigid frame. unexpected overcome with nerves.

‘relax,’ he breathes, nudging his face into your neck, pressing amorous kisses down onto your exposed collarbone.

a small sigh leaving your mouth, which steve loves. taking it as a sign to continue, walking you over to the bed, hands groping any flesh they could.

your skirt flipped up over your ass as he continues the attack on your neck. your hands finally settling on his muscular shoulders, clinging on to his white shirt as you're dipped back onto the bed, his body climbing on top of yours.

'wow,' he mumbles, muffled by the crook of your neck, hands roaming the length of your body, 'so pretty.'

his large palm glides up, lifting your shirt with it, the cold air immediately leaving goosebumps over the exposed skin. only worsened by his soft fingertips trailing along behind your shirt, breaking apart long enough to pull it over your head.

your mouth falling open when his lips find their way to your neck once again, sucking on the tender skin. your fingers absentmindedly unbuttoning his shirt, defined shoulders peeking out as you gently tug it down his arms.

moving down to rid him of his pants, not ignoring how big he already felt under your palm, wondering if you'd even be able to take him all.

'y'sure about this?' he asks into your neck, fumbling with your panties as your hand tries and fails to undo his belt buckle.

you nod, cheek brushing against his mess of hair still buried in your neck. he reappears, gazing down at you as your fingers continue to fumble with the expensive, over-complicated belt.

you finally unclasp the metal, gasping as his cold hands brush against your thighs, fingers finding their way to your sensitive clit, circling around, causing a hushed moan. terribly aware that his children were not too far from you.

‘j-jesus,’ you mumble, sliding down his tailored trousers and rutting your hips against his, feeling his already very erect cock against your centre.

he’s still staring down at you, inches away from your face, unable to decipher the look on his face, a mix between animalistic desire and lust.

your legs lock around his torso and he wastes no time in aligning himself with your entrance, only breaking eye contact to look down at the space between your bodies before sliding in, a raspy moan vibrating from his throat.

hand sliding from the back of his already moist neck, down onto his shoulders, his shirt half-off as he thrusts in and out, pressing his forehead against yours. it feels incredibly intimate, his hot breath brushing against your cheek, the sounds of his balls slapping against your drenched cunt.

your head falls back onto the pillow, hair splayed out around you, rhythmically slamming into you. eyes fluttering closed when his thumb finds your sensitive clit once more. he grins when your hips buck against his in instant approval.

'yeah? y'like that?' he breathes, slowing his pace as you clench around him, nearing your climax. you can't open your eyes to look at him, the immense feeling of pleasure growing in your lower abdomen.

his gruff groans only accelerating your orgasm, 'sh-shit,' you babble, digging your nails into his skin as you reach your peak, waves of hot pleasure running through your body, thighs squeezing his torso, pulling him deeper as you writhe against him.

a series of expletives tumble from your lips, loosening your grip on his skin as he continues thrusting into your now sensitive cunt. the sound of your sweet moans pushing steve to his own orgasm, hips stuttering with his final few strokes before pulling out, painting your thighs with his load.

his mouth hangs open as he catches his breath, running a hand through his damp hair, watching as you come back down to earth. you brave opening your eyes, catching his amorous stare, a small smile overtaking his face.

you're unsure of how to feel, slightly embarrassed, still laid bare on the cotton bedsheets, scrambling to cover yourself as he reaches for a previously discarded towel. cleaning the mess he had made on your skin.

'well.. i'm glad you didn't sneak out,' he simpers, removing collapsing onto the bed beside you, fully removing the half-undone shirt from his body.

'me too,' you attempt to contain the smile on your face with the pillow, though it doesn't really work, exposing your smugness.

he sits up slightly, peering over you to the alarm clock on the bedside table, 'it's late, y'should probably just stay here.. just say i got back super late,' falling back onto the mattress.

you nod, not wanting to defy his suggestion. not that you wanted to leave anyway, fairly happy to stay right here with him.

steve pulls the satiny covers fully over the both of you, turning on his side to face you. dimly lit by the definitely overpriced lamp in the corner of the room. his hand comes up to your waist, pulling your body into his.

you're clueless as to how this had all transpired. now in what was technically your bosses bed, falling asleep in the older man's arms with no idea how you'd explain this to your dad in the morning.

steve's lips wake you in the morning, his stubble brushing against your shoulder as you blink, remembering where the hell you were.

you hadn't woken when he'd got up earlier to get his kids ready for school, probably for the best. not wanting to answer questions as to why their new babysitter was still here in the morning, dressed in their dad's shirt.

'good morning,' he breathes, nose nuzzled into the back of your neck, strong arms snaking around your waist.

'hi,' you respond, slowly coming to, relaxing into his embrace.

'nancy's taken the kids to school.. we've got a little time before i've gotta work,' you can feel his smirk, wandering hands already finding themselves between your thighs.

'your ex-wife was here?' sounding slightly panicked, knowing deep down that whatever had happened last night would land the both of you in serious trouble.

steve picks up on your worry, planting a wet kiss to your shoulder, 'don't worry.. she just picks them up, we're good,' reassuring you only slightly.

before you can dwell on the thought too much, his erection presses against your ass, eliciting a sharp gasp from your throat. you giggle, moving your leg to allow further access.

not quite sure what exactly was going on but absolutely elated to be involved.

your dad always had an extravagant party for his birthday. like, unnecessarily big with far too much money poured into it. you’d had to miss the last few years as his birthday fell in finals week.

the last time you remember going was when you were seventeen, you’d sat in the corner for the entire night watching as everyone danced and got drunk. wishing you could’ve been literally anywhere else in the moment.

this year, you’d have to go and deal with the fact steve was also there. in his best suit with those sickly fitting pants, hair perfectly styled and smelling like that intoxicating cologne you loved.

and you’d have to do it all without giving any inclination as to what was going on between you. it was about to be the hardest night of your life.

steve had even helped you pick out your dress. obviously opting for the most revealing option, trying to play it off as just liking you in black. you’d sworn there was a teenage boy alive inside of that man.

the last few weeks had been spent with him, mostly under the guise of babysitting. spending days at a time in his glorious house, waiting for nancy to collect the kids so you could leave his room. indulging in luxurious breakfasts, sharing clothes and enough sex to keep you satisfied for life.

not without plenty of gifts, hand-crafted pieces of jewelry and god knows how many bright bouquets of flowers now littered around your room. even adorning the beautiful diamond necklace you'd received last week, tonight.

your sister had questioned the sudden abundance of gifts but you'd carefully brushed her off, putting it down to some new guy you'd been seeing, she wouldn't know him.

the start of the party was absolutely fine. sipping on some rather expensive white wine, listening to your father go on and on about his life, never missing an opportunity to talk about you and your sister.

it was inevitable that at some point you would have to speak to steve. especially as you were his new babysitter and seemed to be over there a hell of a lot, working.

‘she’s great, isn’t she?’ your dad boasts, standing between you and steve.

your eyes meet his, a sight you’d actually missed all night. taking your bottom lip between your teeth, a small knowing smile on your lips.

‘yeah, absolutely.. i’d be lost without her,’ steve grins, nudging your dads arm. his eyes don’t leave yours, blood rushing to your cheeks, playing it off as just being bashful at all of the attention.

‘you’re over there enough, i’m surprised you let her have the night off,’ your dad laughs, slinging his arm around your shoulder and rubbing your arm.

‘ahh of course, she can have anything she wants,’ he clears his throat, continuing to make heavy eye contact, ‘she’s such a big help y’know?’

‘too right,’ your dad laughs, clinking his glass against steve’s.

you want to get the fuck out of there, unsure if you had the strength to not fucking pounce on steve the second your dad looked away.

the chat goes on for a little while, switching topics to unimaginably boring topics like whatever it was they did for work. steve had attempted to explain it to you, not that it was much help.

the small group disperses into their own groups and you’re left stood opposite steve, clutching onto your wine glass trying your damn hardest not to let your eyes falter to his package.

he leans in, whispering into your ear, ‘come and find me in five minutes.. there’s an empty meeting room down the hall, you’ll know which one,’ before pulling away, you suspect to go to said room.

you almost don’t want to. let him sit there waiting on his own as revenge for the flirtatious words he’d spoken about you to your dad. you don’t. obviously.

there was not a chance you could leave him be, especially not with the way he looked tonight.

besides, it was kinda fun. risky. there wasn’t much risk involved when you were at his house. other than dodging nancy in the mornings and hoping praying that the kids wouldn’t walk in in the middle of the night.

you give a quick look around, patting the older woman on the arm as you break away from the conversation you were only half-included in. trying not to trip over your feet as you exit, trying to find this meeting room.

there’s a row of almost identical doors and you want to curse him out when the last door in the corridor is adorned with a large, silver 69 nailed to the wood.

you open the door slowly, edging your way into the room when you’re pulled into the darkness. large hands grabbing at your waist holding your body against his chest.

‘oh my god,’ you say, almost too loudly, holding yourself steady as you grip onto his shirt sleeves.

‘shh..’ he hushes, you can just about make out his features from the small amount of light being let into the room. half of his face engulfed in the shadows.

‘you’re a child,’ you smirk, slightly tipsy and very much desperate for his touch.

‘i knew you’d find it,’ he chuckles, fingers digging into the fat around your waist, eager to feel the skin beneath your dress.

‘you’re not fu-,’ you’re interrupted by his lips crashing against yours, trying to pull you even closer. he’d mesh your skin with his if he could.

your hands move to cup his face, palms running against the stubble on his cheeks. jesus christ he could have you right here. you wouldn’t even care at this point.

his fingers inch your already short dress up, riding to the top of your thighs. you slip your tongue into his mouth, the one tiny bit of dominance you had in this situation.

a low groan rumbles into your mouth as one hand glides down his torso, stopping just above his belt. he manoeuvres both of you backwards, crashing into a rogue desk, fingertips surely leaving bruises as they clutch onto you.

‘we can’t,’ he mumbles, lips resting on the side of your mouth, leaving small, wet kisses as your fingers work on undoing his belt buckle.

‘we can,’ you nod frantically, aching to feel him inside of you.

the metal clanks together as you get it unbuckled, sliding a hand into his pants, palming above his boxers at his growing cock as he grunts into your mouth. falling apart at your touch.

the hallway light flickers on fully, footsteps leading up the corridor, stopping just before the room you were in. you pull your head back, eyes wide, just about seeing his worried expression.

‘well we’re about to do the cake, where is she?’ the voice you now recognise as your sister’s echoes in the hallway.

hand still comfortably dipped into his trousers as your head snaps to the door, making desperate pleas to god and anyone else above that she’d turn back around.

‘shit..’ he whispers, pulling your hand from his boxers by your wrist, distressed as your sister walks further up the hallway and back down.

you’re confident she’s back in the main hall as you exhale, relief washing over you, ‘oh my god,’ you giggle slightly, it was pretty funny now the immediate threat had gone.

steve does not share the amusement, his face straight as zips his pants back up, pulling away from you. you screw up your face in confusion, yanking your dress back down to an appropriate length.

‘jesus fucking christ,’ he huffs, tucking his shirt back in.

‘oh c’mon.. it’s fine, she doesn’t know.. no one knows,’ you frown, placing a hand on his arm in an attempt to reassure him.

‘this was a stupid idea,’ jerking his arm away.

‘this was your idea,’ utterly dumbfounded by his attitude, nothing bad had happened so was the annoyance really necessary?

‘i know that- look, you should get back out there,’ he shoos you off to the door.

‘why are you being so weird? it’s fine,’ you breathe, now slightly offended that he was being so mean.

‘go.. they’re looking for you,’ patting your back, ‘i’ll slip out in a minute.’

one of the downsides to an older man definitely included his lack of a sense of humour. you didn’t appreciate having to explain simple jokes or why you found something funny. it was as if he felt the need to be serious about everything.

you shake your head as you slip out of the door, making sure the hallway was empty. there’s a lump in your throat. he still clearly thought of you as a child. someone that needed to be told what to do.

steve doesn’t make eye contact with you for the rest of the night. carefully averting his eyes when you’d try desperately to garner his attention. you don’t even notice him slip out of the door, deserting your plans to go over when the party had ended.

it all felt terribly embarrassing. not that you’d even done anything wrong. it was his idea to go to the room. nothing had even happened, your sister still had no idea anything was even happening between you.

you call him when you’re eventually home and sure everyone else was asleep. sitting cross-legged on your bed, the phone pulled over and resting on your lap.

‘hello?’ he speaks groggily into the phone. you’re shocked he’d even answered.

‘oh hello, d’you remember me?’ you reply, still slightly tipsy and now sharing the anger he’d obviously felt earlier.

he sighs and you can hear him sit up, bedsheets rustling in the back, ‘i’m sorry.. it was just- that was too close.. i can’t lose my job, you know that.’

‘nothing even happened, steve! you’re not gonna lose your fucking job,’ you snap, gripping onto the plastic receiver.

‘i know.. i just have to be careful- we have to be careful,’ once again trying to spin it as if you’d been the one to drag him into the damned room.

‘we are,’ you swallow, vision blurred as the lump in your throat reappears, ‘i know you’re scared but you don’t have to take it out on me.’

he exhales, ‘okay, i’m sorry,’ sounding only slightly remorseful.

‘i wanna see you,’ you sniff, wiping your face with the sleeve of your shirt, ‘can i come over?’

‘it’s late,’ he notes, you can hear the sheets rustle again and the soft padding of his feet as he gets up.

‘that doesn’t answer my question,’ deepening your frown, picking at a loose thread on your shorts.

you can still hear him doing whatever the fuck he was doing in the background, ‘i’ll be there in fifteen.. round the back.’

your frown immediately disappears, ‘okay,’ putting the phone down and jumping from your bed, getting your stuff ready to go.

you’re there waiting for him around the back of your house, an empty dimly lit road. you practically ran to his car when his headlights turned the corner.

sliding into the seat, slightly damp from the rain that’d started, he looks over quickly before speeding off. not giving anyone the chance to spot you.

there’s a small silence before you speak up, ‘i’m sorry,’ apologising for seemingly nothing. it didn’t matter, really. as long as he wasn’t mad anymore.

his hand comes over, resting on your knee, ‘we just have to be careful.. i wasn’t really angry.’

‘i know,’ you nod, though you didn’t. he seemed angry enough. enough to outwardly upset you.

you swallow any feelings of dejection. he'd apologised after all. what was the issue?

steve had been awfully quiet. suddenly not requiring your services as often. being overly cautious about your relationship, calling every few days and only inviting you over when the kids were with nancy.

you’re not afraid to bring it up when you do eventually go over. he was faffing about with some paperwork, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as you sit and watch.

‘why are you being so off with me?’ you speak up, curling your feet up underneath you.

‘hmm?’ he hums, barely lifting his head to acknowledge the fact you’d just spoken to him.

you huff, ‘you’re not even listening,’ crossing your arms over your chest.

‘i am,’ he slowly tears his eyes from the paper, looking over at you, ‘what’d you say?’

‘i said, why are you being weird with me?’

‘what?’ shaking his head, looking back at the numbers on the sheet.

you want to scream. tear the piece of paper into tiny shreds and sprinkle them across the living room.

‘you don’t call me, you don’t want to see me.. i don’t understand what i’ve done,’ you frown, shifting your position to face him fully.

he sighs, long and exaggerated, ‘that’s not true, nancy’s had the kids more.. i just haven’t needed you here as much,’ shrugging you off.

‘oh, so now i’m only your babysitter? you only need me here to fuck, is that it?’

‘you’re twisting my words,’ he finally puts the paper down completely, taking his glasses off and placing them on top of the pile.

‘so what am i? your babysitter or your girlfriend? i’m getting confused,’ sarcastic as you were losing your temper. he was great at evading the question at hand.

he blinks, ‘i’m not gonna argue with you, if that’s what you’re looking for,’ rubbing his temples.

‘answer the question.’

he’d never explicitly called you his girlfriend. you’d just sort of assumed that your relationship had gone past secret hookups. what with all the time spent together, the long hours spent chatting and the occasional, far-too-expensive gifts he’d gotten you.

‘you’re my.. i don’t know, my girlfriend?’ he’s so nonchalant with it all. only pissing you off further.

it was blatantly obvious just why his previous marriage hadn’t worked out.

‘do you want that?’ you ask earnestly, narrowing your eyes at him.

‘well not when you’re like this.’

it must’ve been a skill of his, to make you feel so crazy. so guilty for just wanting some clarification on your relationship.

you’re left speechless, opening your mouth to reply but nothing coming out. you look down, trying not to let him see your tears.

‘you know how i feel about you,’ he sighs, caressing your cheek, running his thumb over the blushed skin.

you nod under his grasp, squeezing your eyes to stop them from leaking.

‘yeah? you gonna stop being silly?’ he says softly, moving in closer. your eyes meet his, watering as a rogue tear slips out and rolls onto his hand.

you felt like a petulant child. like you’d just been told off and needed to be comforted. except, you only wanted to be comforted by him. his touch being the only thing to settle you.

you’d do anything to keep that. even if it meant biting your tongue and being ignored a few times a week.

he smiles when you place your hand above his, leaning into his touch. accepting that to have this, you had to take whatever he would give you.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve stranger things #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #older!steve #steve harrington au #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington one shot #stranger things smut

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everythingdenied · 2 years

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stubble-matty healy

a/n: hey loves <3 idk why i'm suddenly deciding it's a good idea for me to post my writing on tumblr again (or why the first thing is i'm deciding to post is just pure filth) but here we are. i've had this in my notes for aggeess and since everyone's in their matty era rn i thought i'd feed you all. pls be nice i am actually shitting it posting this. (also apologies to all my old moots who now have matty healy in their feed when they do not want him! love u all x)

warnings: just pure self indulgent smut tbh (but it's cute, I promise!) smoking, fem!reader

wc: 1,691

I’d never really been an early bird. The morning air was always a little too cold on my skin for my liking and I didn’t much enjoy the taste of coffee, nor the sound of my alarm, which I set each night despite knowing I’d sleep through it every time without fail. My pillow never felt quite as fluffy as it did in the evening and the noises of the bustling city I’d grown somewhat fond of only existed to annoy me as I prised open my tired eyes. And yet, with him…I was every bit a morning person.

There was just something different about waking up to him. Even at 7am, with my alarm blaring from my phone and the barely conscious thought that I had to be up for a meeting soon flitting around my brain, I couldn’t help but smile to myself whenever I opened my eyes to see him beside me. Especially on those rare occasions like today that I woke up before him, languidly turning onto my side to see the man I loved still dozing peacefully.

He was such a pretty sleeper, his face nuzzled into the crook of my neck, lips parted and warm breath tickling my bare skin with each soft snore. His curls, which he’d recently developed a penchant for flattening down with obscene amounts of hair gel, were splayed out haphazardly on the pillow and I smiled sleepily at the sight, moving to brush a few stray locks from his eyes. I pressed a a featherweight kiss to his forehead and he stirred, a contented hum slipping from his lips, but didn’t wake, much to my delight. I so wanted to bask in this moment just a little longer, scarcely having the pleasure of seeing my boyfriend in a state so unadulteratedly vulnerable.

Minutes passed and, still draped in my sheets and his limbs that he’d aimlessly tossed over me in the middle of the night, I watched Matty with a sleepy smile painting my mouth. My eyes traced his every freckle which, after nearly four years together, I thought I’d become familiar with, only stopping when I noticed his eyelids slowly flutter open.

He yawned and sluggishly rubbed a fist against his eyes, dazed with sleep as he blinked up at me.

“Morning” I smiled, finding him wonderfully endearing when he was barely over the threshold of slumber.

“Mph, g’mornin…” He croaked out lowly, eyes falling shut again as he buried his head further into my neck, placing a sloppy kiss to my jawline. “How long have y’been awake?”

“Not long. Couple of minutes, maybe.” Matty hummed, lips never once leaving my skin as he peppered a listless trail of saccharine kisses from my jaw to my neck. His two day old stubble brushed against me and I giggled at the sensation, squirming under his touch. “That tickles…”

“Sorry.” He smirked, looking up at me with a familiar cheeky glint in his eye, still managing to tease me in his drowsy state. “Need to shave."

I shook my head, scratching the light shadow of facial hair that peppered his jaw.

"I dunno...I kinda like it. You look quite fit."

"Yeah?" Matty snickered at my words, his laugh a little rough with sleep, and nuzzled his cheek against mine, intentionally grazing my skin with his stubble. I pushed him away, biting back my playful smile.

"Stop it. You're gonna give me beard burn."

"You've never complained about that before, love..." He chuckled but pulled away from me, sitting up to lazily reach for the packet of cigarettes resting on his side-table, pulling a smoke out with his teeth.

I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what he was implying and wanting no part of it. I had work in an hour or so; choosing to engage with him and his incessant virility was a dangerous game that I wasn't too sure I had the time to play.

"It's barely seven o'clock, Matthew. Get your head out of the gutter" I chided, eyes fixed on him as he lit his cigarette, the sheets pooling at his waist and his unruly curls flopping forward.

He grinned sleepily, blowing out a thin trail of smoke from the corner of his mouth before turning to look at me, propping himself up on one elbow. "S'always deep in the gutter with you, darlin."

Jesus.

I pursed my lips, suddenly feeling restless under his half-lidded gaze. He knew it, too; more than aware of the effect he had on me, especially at times like this where the border between love and lust blurred in the hazy morning light.

"Even when you've just woke up?" I cocked a brow, stealing the cigarette from between his fingers and taking a long pull.

Inching closer, Matty smirked and slipped a hand beneath my pyjama shirt, his thumb kneading soft circles against my waist.

"Oh, that's when it's at its deepest." Claiming the cig back, he took one last drag before stubbing it out in a nearby ashtray, wasting no time in pulling me flush against his warm body. His lips met mine in a matter of seconds and I practically purred; the first proper kiss of the day far better than the buzz any amount of espresso or nicotine could give.

For a minute or so, the two of us remained locked in a kiss, a barely-awake display of affection that only turned to desire when Matty's hands fell from my waist, fingers hooking under the cotton waistband of my underwear.

"Matty..."I mumbled against his mouth, brushing away his hand only for it to fall right back into position. "Mph...I've gotta get up for work."

He pouted, pulling away somewhat breathlessly.

"Please" His voice radiated with a fervent desperation. "I'll be quick. Jus' wanna taste you before you go."

"I-I dunno. I really can't be late again."

The heat between my legs said differently.

"Please, love..." He reiterated, almost whimpering now. "Promise you won't be."

He was already practically between my legs at this point, fingers splayed out against my hips as he planted sloppy kisses to my stomach, my shirt now somehow hiked up just below my breasts.

This man was going to be the death of me (and probably my career, by the looks of things.)

"Shit, Matt" I shook my head lightly at my the love of my life as he lay at the foot of the bed we'd shared for years, gazing up from between my thighs with sleepy adoration and the morning sun on his face. I could do nothing more than sigh in defeat. "Fine. But you're looking after me if I lose my job over you."

"Always" he breathed out softly.

It took him no time at all to pull down my underwear, letting them bunch up at my ankles as he turned his full attention to my thighs, which already glistened with my own slick.

"Fuck, love" He drew a sharp breath, languidly nibbling at the skin just below my pussy, leaving lazy, haphazard marks on my inner thighs. His grip on my hips grew tighter. "So beautiful."

"Thought you said you were going to be quick." I whined, bucking my hips slightly. Matty chuckled, his warm breath brushing my bare cunt.

"God, so needy" He quipped jokingly and I lifted my head from the pillow to shoot him a look. Brave words for a man who'd just practically grovelled at my feet for a taste of me. "Alright, alright. You don't need to tell me twice."

And with that his mouth finally got to work, lapping up my dripping arousal with a fervency that let me know just how much he desired me. Matty didn't always want to admit it; sincerity was difficult for him at the best of times, but he'd crawl into my skin if he could. Moments like this, when his mouth and attention was on me and me alone were his special way of letting me know that I was all his.

The speed at which his tongue worked at grew with each passing moment, no longer idly circling my clit. I gasped, hands grasping at his curls as I felt the familiar burn of his stubble against my inner thighs, an added sensation I was rarely lucky enough to experience. Thank fuck he hadn't bothered to shave.

"Feel good, gorgeous?" I let out a strangled moan in response and Matty hummed in satisfaction against my core, the soft vibration only bringing me closer to orgasm. "Good. S'my pretty girl."

He said nothing more, the room only filling with the sound of pleasure; my desperate whimpers and the sloppy sound of his tongue as it drew shapes against my bud intermingling in one sweet sonance. With each lick, I grew nearer to release. Matty knew my body well enough to know I wasn't far from cumming, feeling me writhe beneath him, mumbled expletives slipping from my mouth as he told me just how good I tasted.

"Nearly there, darlin'. Doin' so well." He quickened his pace, breathing heavily as he coated my pussy in his saliva. "Wanna cum for me, yeah?"

I nodded, although I wasn't sure he could see me, the coil in my lower stomach tightening.

"Y-yeah."

"Thought so" he breathed. "Go on then, love."

And I did, coming apart beneath him, loosing myself momentarily in a feeling of burning pleasure only he could ever elicit from me. I sung his praises, his name falling from my lips as he slowed, his featherweight kisses to my clit allowing me to ride out my high. Matty let out a throaty groan himself, getting off on knowing he'd done this to me.

Hazily flopping my head back against the pillow, I felt Matty clamber up the bed, watching me with loving ardor as my chest heaved.

He hovered above me, his hands positioned firmly on either side of my shoulders as he leant down to kiss me, his (not quite) beard glistening with my juices and his lips slick and wet.

"How's that for beard burn, aye?" He smirked against my mouth and, despite my exhaustion, I found just enough energy to smack his shoulder playfully.

"Dickhead."

#matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #the 1975 #matty healy

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theravenclawlover · 2 years

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🎃Kinktober Day 22🎃

Day Prompt: Emeto/Bondage/Temperature play

Word Count: 878

Warnings: +18 (MDNI), sexual content, rough sex, female reader, "C" word usage, slight degradation, and my writing as usual.

A/N: I am tired, man. How long before my body gets used to the gym? Also, is anyone else unemployed? I can't find a job. so much for going to college to find a good job.

George Weasley x F!Reader

You had flipped a coin, leaving it to luck to see who would be the one to suffer through the teasing the ropes promised once they found themselves around their wrists and ankles. Or however they chose to put them to use. Both you and George had looked at the Galleon before it landed on the floor with a long spin. It was like time had slowed, that, or the coin had decided to not stop because it had spun so long that George had tried to stop it with his foot. But then it finally stopped, clattering loudly in the silence of your bedroom. You both had looked down. George looked up, a horrible wicked grin on his face.

Everything after that was much less blurry as George hadn’t wasted time showing you just how much the idea had turned him on. His kisses had been nothing short of a man deprived of his one guilty pleasure, his hands grabbing at you to make sure you wouldn’t run away from the intensity he couldn’t hold back—not like you minded because you were just as intense of a regular day. But when he had stripped you naked, and his hands had found the ropes, that’s when your body began to feel its anxiety levels rise. You could have called it off, but had you done so, you would have been deprived of having your arms tied behind you while George put you on your knees, at his mercy as he fucked your mouth. You could only move your fingers while trying not to gag too much as tears and moans poured out of you. Or you could have also been deprived of feeling George devour your cunt while you could only squirm while you cried out for him to let you touch him or mercy when he drove you to your third orgasm. Or worse, you could have been deprived of feeling George breakout of whatever remaining sanity he had as he fucked you.

Your knees barely being able to keep you on the border of the mattress as your fingers dug into the stomach pressed against you. George held you from your sore biceps as he bit into your neck, his hips snapping into you as his cock could only fuck you in a manner like he’d never done before.

“You take me so well, love,” he groaned as you moaned at the praise and his cock’s punishing thrusts. You were so sensitive, cunt weeping as he demanded more orgasms out of you.

But a man who felt heady lust as he did now could only last so long before he had to answer to his body’s need to finally feel a culmination of arduous work. And George was on the verge.

He pushed you down unceremoniously, your face landing on the mattress as you whimpered helplessly. His hands were quick to press your shoulder blades and adjust your body, so your hips were raised, ass in the air in the most obscene manner. Back arched as you awaited the stretch of his cock again.

“George,” you whined as he teased the tip of his cock, tapping your sensitive clit. “Aw fuck.”

He chuckled before he plunged his needy cock inside of you again, and like before, a took on a merciless pace, abusing your spent pussy. But this time his cock was hitting your insides just right, and your moans were those of a whore.

“Fuck,” he groaned in response to your lewd sounds. “That’s it, darling, such a good girl. Taking my cock like a good little slut, but just for me. Isn’t it, love?”

You couldn’t answer, words were failing you, and the little you could muster got quieted due to your constant need to cover your face with the sheets. But you moved your hips back the best you could, George moving forward to grab your tied hands as he fucked you harder, slick making the sounds of skin against skin louder in your room.

And then you were feeling it all over again, the intense need to cum, this time slightly painful as the plunging of his cock and the slapping of his balls to your clit was more than what your overwhelmed cunt could take. So a scream of his name ripped from your throat as you came, walls clenching to the point they barely did which created a tight grip around George.

“Fuck.”

You barely heard him groan as you let go of you to land atop you, his cock buried deep inside of you as ropes of cum spurted into you, George finally giving into his orgasm. He could barely thrust into you, your cunt so tight around him, his cum and your slick leaking out around him.

With the regaining of your body, you felt George’s hand clumsily undoing the bindings around your wrists and arms, his tired kisses making your stomach flutter, a smile forming. He moved—cock still inside you—landing a very sweet kiss below your ear.

“I love you so very much,” he said sweetly, voice clearly full of exhaustion.

“Mhm,” you turned your head slightly, now arms free slightly to grab at him better. “And I love you, Georgie.”

#theravenclawlover #Kinktober 2022 #George Weasley #George Weasley smut #George Weasley x reader #George Weasley x reader smut #Harry Potter

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puptoy · 1 year

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This fantasy includes: sports boy bullying, locker room sex, gender play (a queer sub with a pussy who presents as masculine, referred to as "bitch" and "boy" and with female anatomical terms), edging, denial, begging, humiliation, cunnilingus, implied penetrative sex, slight voyeurism

Thinking about you cornering me after practice again. maybe you came back in to get something you forgot and spotted me changing - noticed again how, underneath the clothes and padding, I'm smaller and softer than the other guys on the team.

I notice you watching. At first I'm so nervous, but hell- I like the way you look in sweatpants, your hair still wet from the showers. I don't stop undressing. I let you see me work the shorts down my hips, my thighs. I watch you watching me. You look hungry. I feel like prey in the best way, and you step closer. Closer, until I feel you hard against my hip and your strong hands groping and kneading my ass.

You growl in my ear. You say, "You've been waiting for this haven't you?" I shake my head. I was just changing- But you slip your hand around and rub your thumb slowly up, feeling l how I'm soaking the fabric of my underthings. You rub a slow circle around the top and smirk when I tilt my hips to chase the sensation.

"C'mon now. I've seen you staring. Sneaking glances," you say, feeling up my belly, my chest, pinching at my puffy pink nipples just to make me squirm. Your breath against my throat, you squeeze me tight, enjoying how easy I am to overpower.

You tell me I'm a natural. 'S alright, some boys are just made for this. Made to take it. You're not saying every boy with a pussy is a submissive little bitch, but you can definitely tell I am. Even if I had a hung dick I'd still be your bitch. You sit me down on the bench, peel my last layer down and see how my wetness sticks to the fabric in strands. I try to close my thighs but you pry them open, sliding the pad of your thumb down slick pink lips, pushing down further to feel how soft and warm I am inside.

You work two fingers into me. Tight but pliable. I look back at the locker room door- Fuck, man, what if someone walks in? But you don't seem to care, focused intently on teasing and stretching my cunt, feeling how I clench on your fingers when you bury your face against me, lapping and suckling at my clit.

Fuck, I'm not feeling this, I'm not letting my dickass cocky team captain make me beg- But you keep backing off and slowing down right when I'm getting close and I can't stand it. Finally I'm whining: pleasepleaseplease. You curl your fingers, rub against a sweet spot inside, and purr: "Please what? You wanna cum? Fuck, you're easy for me. That didn't take much."

"Yeah, nn, I wanna..."

"C'mon," You say, "Use your words, pretty boy." You don't ever let me off easy.

"Fuck, please, I wanna cum!"

"Then say you're mine. My lil' bitch. Remember how you drank my cum last time? You're so easy for me," you say, slowly sliding your fingers in and out, in and out...."I remember everything you said. This pussy's mine. Just admit it again."

"Nnnnh you're mean, dude!" I protest.

You bite my thigh. I've been so close for so long. I break.

I'm losing my mind, I don't care that you'll hold this against me later. I whine and beg, "My pussy, m'pussy's yours, pleaseplease please lemme cum please I wanna cum, touch my pussy please I need you, just touch me please!"

"'S yours, I'm yours, your toy, your bitch..."

"What's mine?" you ask, just to be totally evil.

"Good boy," you praise me and I moan. This time, when I start squirming and getting close, babbling about how good your mouth feels, you let me tip over the edge. My clit twitches against your tongue, the aftershocks have me panting.

You start to pull back but stop when I make a bereft noise and reach for you. I can see you hard in your sweatpants and I lean up, reach out and press my palm against the obscene bulge. You make a sound and a face that tells me you're not as unaffected as you want me to think.

Honestly, I'm thinking with my pussy at this point. I keep rubbing you through the fabric, wet my lips and ask, "D'you want me to blow you again, or... do... something else?" I trail off, embarrassed by what I'm implicitly offering.

You growl (oh god, how do you even make that noise, it's so hot) and manhandle me again, grabbing my hips and guiding me to flip over. You push my front half down into my pile of clothes and towels, and I go willingly. We're both too worked up to play more games.

#me and him #from the drafts #sports nsft #locker room nsft #begging nsft #i dont know how to tag the gender stuff in this post #nblm nsft #edging nsft #ftm sub #not a binary trans guy myself but this could definitely be read that way #boybunny hours #boycunt

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wispisstillverybored67 · 9 months

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All Star Apologies

"A body has been discovered!! Now then, after a certain amount of time has passed, the class trial will begin!"

______________________________________________________________

This search has been nothing but a waste of time.

So a bit of base for this. Out of all of us, 1 of us has apparently died. I refuse to say whom at the moment. And this asshole bear thing had recently announced a motive; there will be an obscene number of lire waiting towards any one of us that manages to kill, and escapes freely. Naturally, this created something of a schism between us among us in La Squandra di Esecuzione, the professional hitman team to the boss, the ones with the shitty payment from said boss, and La Unita Speciale per Boss, said boss’s personal guard. Nero has chosen to keep quiet about this fight, while Doppio explicitly said that he won’t take sides on this, with what the woman he loves on the other side as well. So us hitmen (and the little one) decided to go look for the body as someone disappeared. Because wherever he, whoever he is, did the crime shouldn't be that far, right? Who's he? Oh, no one in particular. But I am the only woman in this group, so everyone else is a man. Hehehe...

After about half a day of searching, we all just gave up. And by "we", I mean me, Melone, Illuso, Doppio, and perhaps Nero himself. Well, Nero says that he won't stop the search, and chided us for giving up, but a: his tone is just dripping with weariness, and b: he "excused himself" in the bathroom, and won't get out (I heard faint crying noises too so he's not helping his case). So our group is heading back to our rooms. Actually, I think the others should be heading soon enough, it's almost time to check in. 'Cuz if they don't in about an hour or so, they'll end up like a pincushion just like Carne. What was it called again...? Oh, I don't wanna know! At least being temporarily Stand-less has it's perks. I do NOT wanna clean up the Notorious goo mess.

"VoUlEz-VoUs CoUcHeR aVeC mOi," That's a French phrase. We got told that because we gave up quickly. Only France gives up easily. Do you think the boys know what that means? Hell no. Illuso is the LAST to know. "The hell's that supposed to mean...?!"

"Will you sleep with me," I remarked, annoyed.

"The fuck?! No!" He exclaimed, horridly.

"No, not like that. The phrase means 'will you sleep with me'," Why would I want to do you? Don't get any ideas. "Melone, don't even try,"

"Alright alright..."

Pass through the hallway, then take the door on the left. I guess the search would go on the next day. Now I told you this before, that two of us are missing from each group; the lovebird duo on our side, and the medic and his human pet on the other side. One of them may be dead, while the other is perhaps looking. I wonder where the place is being powered from.

And then.

It happened.

*fwush!* The power blew out. Uh, does my GBA need charging? Guess not.

"...Dammit," Whenever the power in the building goes out, Melone is almost always is the first to go. Do you seriously use that computer while you're walking? You do, don't you ya freak. "Okay, okay, now where's the fuse box?" Planning to turn it on again, I suppose? I guess I could tag along. The other two would follow with.

"On the other end of the hall with Izza's room," Wonder how'd Illuso find that out, poking around in the incinerator I guess? "Hey Paulla, do you have a flashlight?" someone asked sheepishly. It was Doppio. Of course it was.

Without saying anything, I turned on the little backlight in my GBA. That should suffice. Or maybe not, who knows. But with this, we took a detour to the boiler room. Who even flipped off the switch, anyhow? It can't be because someone's planning a murder... yet.

Let's see. Monopad ping the door, then file inside. Find where the box is... unless you get hit with something squirming at the legs.

This caused a bit of a ruckus among us 4, because we couldn't see what was there, and it was too dark to stray even WITH the GBA light. The fuse-box SHOULD be somewhere... right?

"Aceto, let go of me," I complained to the little guy, who currently had his arms and legs wrapped around my top half. He doesn't budge. Man, for a so-called "Ultimate Bodyguard", he sure is un-threatening now, isn't he? Look around, see what's there.

"...There it is!" Illuso was triumphant after all. It was wedged on-top of the incinerator chute itself. I would've thought it was on the other side of that and the boiler, but I guess not. And with a flick of Melone's wrist and switch, the lights turned back on. Chattering all the way in the dining room came all the way to here. Ah well, the stampede should awaken in... 30 minutes or less. So without further ado, let's turn off the GBA and go back to our rooms like intended. Until...

We saw it.

In broad daylight (not literally).

Gelato was bound up extremely tightly and gagged on the floor, but he's still alive. Blood stains all over the floor and walls, and whatever happened to him had his face absolutely stained with tears (still crying, I may add!). A piece of paper that read "PUNISHMENT" was taped to his forehead. Handwriting is unlike anything I've seen in the last 2 days. What the hell happened in here? Was he the one that kept bumping into our legs? Why didn't he try to make any noise indication that he WAS here? Ugh... it's getting really hot in here.

"The fuck?" "What the-?!" Half of us were more reactive than others.

"Why are you just sitting there, watching this?! GO HELP ME OUT HERE!!" Melone scolds me in a moment of wild uncharacteristic fear.

"I'd love to if he'd stop SQUIRMING!" I complained in the back. Melone can handle it on his own. ...Aren't I forgetting something?

"Hold on hold on," I think Illuso noticed it too. "If Gelato's over here, then what happened to Sorbet?" Motherfucker, you're right. Ugh. Those two NEVER leave each other's presence for too long, if I didn't know any better, I'd think they were just having sex in their room.

"We'll look for the other one later. Now come on! Help me get this off of him!" Yeah, that gag is done on WAY too tight. One wrong move earlier, and he'd already be dead through suffocation. "Aceto, go get Nero-chan," Stained blood has better iron generations in it, right? Oh wait, he doesn't have Metallica on hand. But I think that wouldn't matter, he's always got something sharp on hand. "You got it, Paulla!" At least he's eager. "Let me see what's up here..."

Whatever happened to him, he's rendered to a shell of fear and nerves, a far cry to his usual self. You know, I'd expect this to be slightly more from the other one, not him. I took off the taped note, revealing a moderate gnash on his forehead, most likely from hitting one of us, or the wall. I wonder who should go look for Sorbet, with us handling the other one. Does he even know that he's here? I don't think so. Why is he not looking for him? Can he look for him? Is he still alive, even?

"Okay, howzabout we go look for the other one, y'all? Does that sound good?" I don't know how to comfort people. Much less people in this position. Still, as I picked him up, at least his cries were softened a bit. Listen, just WHAT do you want me to do?

"Uh... you guys?" Hearing Doppio's sheepish voice again can't be good. From afar is even worse.

"Aceto..." We all (surprisingly) began. The other two had corrected themselves, since only I call him that. "Uh, Vinegar..."

"What happened to Nero?" Not even I could've torn off his gag.

"No, not that, just..." He looked back to where the others were, as if he was remembering that something came up. "Come over here really quickly! You guys have to see this!" He shouted, then ran back to the others.

We all gave each other a glance, feeling dread settle upon us. Maybe they found the other three... I sighed, then we all went over to where he told us to go. The gym gates open to reveal...

Sorbet's spliced up corpse.

The Ultimate Opera Singer has been killed.

Sectioned into 39 pieces, and dipped in formaldehyde for preservation, his face is permanently twisted into a gape of pure agony and despair. I would've showed this to little Gelato, but he's already unconscious, as I had checked. Or is he? Eh.

*ding ding dong dang* What the?! The loudspeaker came on... Don't tell me it's-

"A body has been discovered!! Now then, after a certain amount of time has passed, the class trial will begin!" *Fwush* An announcement came on from the big screen in the gym room. It was that jackass bear. How come he didn't announce it before, when the group had most likely found it? Probably just to rub it in our faces...

We all faced the artistic corpse again, all in various faces of either horror, disgust, or fear. Even those among La Unita aren't hiding their shock. Well, most of us, at any rate. I, who can't feel anything at this time, and the now found duo for the special unit, Dolcio and Secco. I'd expect that those two aren't very worried either. As a surgeon, you'd have to expect the worst in damages. And I'm assuming that human pets simply don't GAF. Of course, one COULD use it for... discerning evidence.

Illuso is the first to leave, quickly dashing towards the nearest trash can to gag in. Doppio and Pesci refuse to look at this, clearly too terrified at this to continue looking. It's strange. I can sense everyone's despair, but none of us have our Stands, and that was a plus from Smooth Criminal, so what gives? None of us say anything the whole time, I just fake being horrified to suit the others. Hardened assassins, running about like children stumbling upon 2 month old leftovers in or out of the fridge. Look at us... who'd have ever thought? At least Nero is out of the bathroom now, so we can get Gelato un-bound-and-gagged with. Oh! I see a lighter on the stage! That makes this even better! And since he's unconscious... that makes it easier for us to do so without interruptions. Just gotta make sure the smoke doesn't hit him. Once he's freed, we can squeeze an answer out of him.

We had to go to sleep soon enough, so Nero and the others grabbed up the pieces of Sorbet, and moved it to the stage. Investigate later, that sounds better. When the guys went to leave once they were finished, I went to grab the lighter over there. Make sure to tilt his head back so he doesn't inhale the smoke. Doppio is the only one to linger. I motion for him to go help me out here, so he held up the body carefully on top of the stage so I wouldn't have to bend down.

*click!* Steady now... Don't move much. Watch the flame. I'm so glad Gelato doesn't have messy hair! Halfway done. Hmm...

"Aceto,"

"Yeah, Paulla?"

"Do you know what's going on here? Does the boss, like... know that we're stuck here?" On the hitmen's end, we were just chatting in the hideout, but when I went to go get a drink, the others fell unconscious. I soon joined their fate once I got back to the other guys. We all woke up in here alongside the unit.

"I've tried calling him, no go. I wonder what happened to him?" Worried about him? Well, I guess that is rather like you...

"What I want is for this to wrap up quickly. Destroy the bear thing, or wait until someone tries to get us," ! He's waking up! Almost done, you hear? The weight radiating from him in the boiler room is coming back!

"GUYS! HE'S AWAKE!! GELATO'S ALIVE!" I tried to call out for the guys. "NERO?! TIANZO?! HELLOOOOOO!!" Tianzo? Tiziano? Whatever. He's the only one not named Aceto that I talk to in the unit. Doppio himself went to go fetch the guys for the discovery. I had to go carry him again carefully so the others could see. But what happened next is a different story.

What did he see then? You'll figure it out. What we saw then, however, were fireworks.

A screech hits the room, loud, discordant, despairing. A violent and horrified yell, at the sight of something that caught his eye in the stage. The stage where we kept his husband, or rather, the corpse of his husband.

"AREEEEEEEEAIIIIIIIIHHHHHH!!!"

Oh, this is gonna be a long, long day. And now my head hurts...

#here we have an ultimate illusionist (illuso). ultimate programmer (melone). ultimate duelist (paulla izza/billie jean ojiro). and-#ultimate bodyguard (doppio)#also his first name is actually aceto. but because no one actually respects him they call him vinegar as well #danganronpa crossover #tw death #< assuming whomever needs it is actually in this room #these ARE the death fandoms after all-#gelato himself is the ultimate info broker #you'll figure out sorbet's talent in time. mwehehe...#The Scene is something I can't wipe from my mind #it is everything to me #with that being said #wouldn't it be fucking sick if it slowly panned up to sorbet's corpse slowly like discovering a body?!#and that unholy tune that always plays during the body discoveries reaches a zenith upon getting up to his face. the laughter reverberating #-from all around #oh.#and cioccolata's the ultimate surgeon. secco's the ultimate adventurer #jjba au #I just yoinked his screech from what I letter-ized Marx soul's screech #I'm sorry gelato #actually I'm not #vento aureo #paulla izza/billie jean ojiro #illuso #melone #aceto doppio #vinegar doppio #gelato #wisp rambles #wisp writes

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cyancherub · 3 years

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One of Kogami's favorite things, and he has a lot of them when it comes to you, is folding you up against the wall. Folding you up, pinning you like a little tiny doll, and shoving his thick cock into your tight cunt until your squealing and trying to push him away. Oh god you can see him pushing at the wall of your abdomen, you can see the way he makes you soft skin bulge out just enough to make you uncomfortable.

"God babe, you are so tiny," he whispers, voice raspy from grunting with each thrust. "I forget sometimes just how easy it would be to break you."

my god i am ascending to the NEXT PLANE

#to cherub #👼 sukuna dealer ramskull #ko simp hours #cass // psych #THE SCREAM I JUST SCRUMPT #OMGGGGGG #the si...the SIZE KINK #SJHKASHD #I WANT HIM SO BAD #THAT POSITION W HIM ??? OMGGG #i am squirming my need for this man is so obscene #THANK U FOR FEEDING ME #dear lord #size kink cw #stomach bulge tw

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foli-vora · 3 years

Text

my girl

A/N: look, I don’t even fucking know. I saw the reference picture and my mind just went absolutely feral. What started out as what could be a simple threesome, soon turned into this—whatever the fuck this is. I refuse to apologise. I enjoyed this ride and will now throw this out into the abyss like a grenade and run back to the safety of my blankets, ashamed to ever return.

This is for @autumnleaves1991-blog Writers Wednesday ❤️ such an incredible idea! Thank you for letting me join in!

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader x Francisco “Catfish” Morales

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: this is straight up filth. FILTH. SMUT 18+ NO MINORS!! Swearing, alcohol, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), lactation kink—not everyone’s cup of tea, I get it... dirty talk, Dave’s a bastard and Frankie’s a pussy eating king—both things we know by now. Um, enjoy, I guess?

“Fuck.”

You laugh lightly, head falling back onto Dave’s shoulder as Frankie drops his cards to the table with a drawn out sigh.

“You can’t lie for shit, Morales.”

He shoots a half hearted glare at Dave, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing, York.”

You snort quietly, fingers intertwining with the hand resting comfortably on your thigh. “It’s not a good thing, either. Drink up.”

“Two against one is hardly fair.”

Dave grins, momentarily pressing against your back to reach for his own beer before reclining comfortably back in the chair, pulling you tighter against him as he goes. “You say that like she’s a threat—she’s as hopeless as you.”

“Rude.”

The sun still warms your shoulders as it starts it’s descent below the heavy tree line behind your property, the bright summer glow fading into something softer, more relaxing, and you eye the mess of paper plates, cups and random toys strewn about in the yard—the leftover destruction of your sons first birthday.

Dave’s fingers softly pinch your chin and return your focus to the table and the drinking game currently taking place, coaxing another beer into your hands while he kisses softly below your ear. “Stop looking at it—we’ll do it in the morning.”

“Yeah, when I’m long gone.” Frankie mutters, grinning at you before tipping his head back and polishing off another can while Dave laughs quietly.

He liked Dave. The guy was strange sometimes, what with his out of town work and mysterious friends that made the hairs on the back of Frankie’s neck stand, but Dave was a good guy... adored the absolute hell out of you and that’s all that mattered. He served, too, but unlike Frankie choosing to retire, he took up an opportunity with the CIA. Not too shabby.

Frankie’s checking in with his babysitter a little while later, having lost again, when he hears a little moan. His eyes move towards the sound before he can help it.

What the fuck?

Frankie shifts in his seat, not looking straight at the pair of you in fear of fucking flat out moaning. He chalks it up to just not being with someone for a while but wow. He could see you from the corner of his eye, see Dave’s hands and the way they move to squeeze and pinch at your tits as his mouth practically devours yours. You’re complete putty in his hands, melting into his lap and taking whatever he gives you hungrily.

Maybe he should go.

Fuck. Did you just whimper?

Jesus. He needs to leave now.

“I’ll head off... give you two some space—”

Dave’s low voice stops his rise from the chair, his ass hanging awkwardly over the seat as eyes that match his in colour and depth zero in on him from across the table. “What’s the rush, Morales?”

“No rush. I just don’t want to intrude—”

“You’re not. Sit down. Have another beer.”

Say no. Say no.

“Sure.”

He resettles in the chair, immediately reaching for another can as wonders why he suddenly feels so fucking studied under Dave’s watchful gaze.

“So how long have you wanted to fuck my wife?”

You blink in shock, “David!”

Frankie just about chokes. Beer spills from his lips and he hacks a cough in surprise, sleeve catching the drops of liquid that fall from his chin. Fuck. Fucking shit. What the fuck is he meant to do? He’s gonna get his ass kicked, and if he’s being honest with himself, he fucking deserves it.

He should’ve fucking left.

“Man, I swear—” He swears what? He can tell by the way Dave’s looking at him that the man already knows. He’s not angry—not even a little bit. He’s just... smug. And curious. What kind of fucking game is this guy playing?

“Oh god, Frankie, I’m so sorry—please ignore him. David, what’s the fucking matter with you?!”

You bristle when he blatantly ignores you, instead raising a brow in challenge at Frankie. “Am I wrong?”

Frankie works his jaw, eyes narrowing slightly as he tries to work out Dave’s play. He doesn’t seem to be looking for a fight. Doesn’t seem to be doing it out of spite or wanting to upset you. He has no idea how to act, what to fucking say.

Dave nods, grinning. “Thought as much.”

His hand cups your chest, squeezing the flesh softly, and you squirm in his touch, cheeks flooding with embarrassment for your friend as Frankie swallows uncomfortably, eyes immediately finding the crushed cans on the table. “Dave—”

“He doesn’t mind—do you, Morales?”

You watch in slight surprise as Frankie’s eyes flutter to your chest, watching the way Dave handles you roughly before they’re moving away again, almost shy.

“It’s alright. You can watch. Can’t he, honey?”

And then Frankie’s looking at you, eyes unsure and questioning but burning with something that has a thrill running along your spine. You nod quietly, heart beating unsteadily as Frankie’s eyes widen slightly, body squirming in the chair.

“If—if you want to.”

He exhales softly, now watching with rapt attention as Dave brings both hands up, undoing each button of your dress until your modest cotton bra is on show, nipples poking through and straining against the fabric. He feels the air leave his lungs the second Dave pulls at the cups, spilling your tits out to the open air and his wandering gaze. He can’t help but make a noise at the sight of them, cock hardening to the point of discomfort as Dave massages them softly, your eyes rolling a little as he pinches at your nipples.

Frankie stiffens in the chair, breath catching and stomach dropping.

Fucking shit—

Dave hums lowly in appreciation, feeling a warm dribble across his thumb and fingers as you squirm from the familiar tingle in your breasts. “She’s trying to stop and dry it up, but it takes a while, doesn’t it, honey? Not that I care—more for me in the long run.”

Frankie almost whines. Fucking whines. He catches it just before it falls from his throat, close to embarrassment. Dave knows—the bastard. You look so good. So fucking good. Fuck, there’s so much—

“Have a taste.”

You moan softly at the idea, and Dave hushes you softly as he presses a kiss to your throat.

Frankie eyes the milk that falls from your nipple before glancing up and meeting Dave’s gaze, lips pursing in thought despite the way his cock throbs in his jeans. What was the ulterior motive here? Was it a test? Was he just looking for a reason to knock him out? Does he even care?

Dave watches him, expression unwavering, almost teasing as he coaxes more milk from your tits and runs his fingers through the warm stream sliding down your skin.

“What’s the catch?” Frankie eventually asks, voice hoarse, and Dave grins.

“No catch.”

Did he get up too fast? By the way Dave laughs at him, he probably did. He doesn’t care. He can’t get around the stupid fucking glass table quick enough.

Frankie drops to his knees in front of you, attention completely focused on the way Dave squeezes gently at your nipple and draws more milk from your tit.

He wants to double check. He knows Dave would never push you to do something you didn’t want to, but there’s been a bit of alcohol involved, and even though he knows your tolerance level is much higher than a few beers, hell—even tequila doesn’t bring you down, checking doesn’t hurt. “Are you—”

You nod, “It’s okay, Frankie.”

“Go on.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Frankie’s lip attach to you the second Dave opens his mouth, his tongue running immediately over your nipple and groaning when the taste of your milk sinks into his taste buds. So fucking sweet. You whine into Dave’s ear when Frankie increases his pressure, greedy for more as you flood his mouth, and your stomach tightens at Dave’s low hum.

“Feel good, honey?” He asks quietly, other hand cupping and rolling your free nipple in his hand as Frankie moans softly against your skin, the prickle of his facial hair so different to Dave’s clean shaven face, but no less pleasant.

“S-so good—”

Dave’s fingers gently pinch at the hem of your dress, sliding it up along your thighs and pooling it above your waist before coaxing your thighs open a little more, Frankie immediately moving into the free space as soon as he could. Dave pulls your panties to the side, running his fingers through your slick folds with a low groan.

“You’re so fucking wet. Do you like him sucking on your tits?”

You whine quietly, hips arching into the two fingers that swirl around your entrance before they slide in and curl against your hot walls. He moves slowly, dragging them almost lazily in and out of your pussy as he feels more of your arousal coat his hand.

“Yeah, you do like it—so does he. Do you think he can hear how wet you are, baby? Do you think he can hear my fingers move in this greedy little cunt?”

Frankie groans. Loudly. He’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t so fucking turned on. He can hear it. It’s driving him fucking mad. He wants to look, wants to watch how your face moves as Dave finds that spot deep along your walls, but he can’t pull away from you. Not yet. If this is the only chance he gets to do this, then he’s taking it and fucking running.

Dave’s gentle as he pulls his fingers from you, swirling his slick soaked fingers around and over your nipple before coaxing Frankie to the other side. The obscene groan that vibrates against your chest sends flutters through your entire body as Frankie laps at your skin with a ravenous frenzy, tongue smoothing over every bit of wet skin he could find before latching onto your nipple without abandon.

Dave picks up on it immediately. “Easy. You hurt her, I hurt you.”

A tongue smoothes over your nipple in silent apology, and your fingers run through the flattened curls of Frankie’s hat hair in acceptance, his face nuzzling against your skin as you bring him closer. Dave’s fingers return to your pussy, leisurely circling your clit, swollen and throbbing from lack of attention.

“Do you want to cum, honey?”

The needy whine that leaves your mouth has him cooing into the side of your face, fingers picking up speed and pressure at the desperate little buck of your hips.

“Maybe if you ask Francisco nicely, he’ll eat this pretty pussy until you cum.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

Is he serious?

Frankie shudders against you, cock straining so fucking hard against his jeans he almost wants to cry. He’d beg if he has to. If that tiny little taster Dave gave him was anything to go by, you’d drive him fucking wild.

“P-please Frankie—”

Dave tuts lowly in your ear, “‘Please Frankie’—you can do better than that. He can’t hear you.”

“Fuck. Please—”

“Please what?”

“Please eat my pussy—please—”

Dave winds his fingers into Frankie’s hair and tugs sharply, the other man detaching from your tit with a wet smack of his lips. He eyes the small trail of milk sliding into Frankie’s beard and scoffs quietly, “Messy.”

Frankie’s already flushed cheeks darken even further, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is how fucking stunning you look, legs spread and face morphed in ecstasy as Dave rubs over your clit with a shadow of a smirk—the man knew he drove you crazy.

God, so fucking wet—

You’re dripping. He can see it. He watches the way your entrance flutters, pussy clenching hungrily around nothing as Dave slows his movements.

“Well? You heard her.” He parts your folds, baring you in all your slick fucking glory, and Frankie all but fucking loses his god damn mind. He dives in, uncaring that Dave’s fingers are there and his tongues probably running over them more than he cares to count. Dave doesn’t seem to mind.

The cry that falls from your lips has Frankie pressing forward, mouth pressing greedily against you as his tongue works at your pussy, lapping at your weeping entrance before lathing attention to your clit, tightening his lips around the nerve and letting his tongue massage over it.

“Oh fuck, Frankie—”

Dave hums, curved nose trailing softly along the side of your face as you thrash in his arms, bucking into the mouth that all but fucking devours your pussy. His tries to ignore the way you shift on his lap, the way your ass drags so fucking nicely over his hard cock straining under you, tries to ignore the delicious fucking sounds coming from both you and Frankie, but he can only endure so much.

He bites into your shoulder, eyes tightening as he fights off the waves of tempting bliss tingling at the base of his spine. Not yet. He wants more.

“Come on, baby. He’s been so good—cum on his mouth. Give it to him.”

Your body thrums with waves of electricity at Dave’s words, each swipe of Frankie’s tongue driving you further and further until you’re stiffening, Dave cooing quiet praises and quickly slapping a firm hand over your mouth as you find your peak, crying out and shaking in his arms as Frankie holds onto your thighs, tongue burying itself in your fluttering pussy to take everything you give him.

Your cries turn into whines, and soon you’re squirming, trying to get away from Frankie’s mouth. He takes the message before Dave can intervene, pulling away with a shaky exhale and desperately trying not to blow his load in his fucking jeans. He had a feeling Dave would never let him live it down, but it was so fucking hard not to. You were wrecked.

He watches you come down from your high from the floor between your thighs, heart hammering as Dave softly runs his fingers along your skin, voice almost silent as he murmurs in your ear. Dark eyes are soon on him and Frankie briefly worries he’s overstepping his welcome, until Dave speaks.

“That’s what you get when you lose, Morales. Imagine what you’ll get if you win. Deal ‘em.” Dave nods to the cards on the table, acting like he didn’t have you still trembling in his arms with your tits out, and dress bunched around your hips with your pussy still spread and quivering.

Frankie swallows, nodding silently and moving back to his seat, reaching for the cards with a sudden urge to win and wipe that fucking smirk off of Dave’s face.

Tags: @anu-simps @seasonschange-butpeopledont @withasideofmeg @you-got-me-starry-eyed @mouthymandalorianalso @frannyzooey @wyn-dixie @intu-witch-tion @amneris21 @mad-girl-without-a-box @pinguinstudiert @sergeantbannerbarnes @betterthanbucky @kat-r-in @starlightmornings @randomness501 @antisocialthat70sshow @buttercup--bee @sleep-tight1 @spideysimpossiblegirl @greeneyedblondie44 @hope-for-the-best-98 @bunniwarrior @fangirl-316 @acourtofsnakes @leaiorganas @princess76179 @mamacitapascal @221bshrlocked @danniburgh @lv7867 @autumnleaves1991-blog @julesorwhatever

#writer wednesday #Dave York x reader #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #Dave York x f!reader #frankie morales x f!reader #francisco morales x f!reader #dave york x you x frankie morales #dave york #frankie morales #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #this is what beer and cards would lead to with Dave and Frankie #no I will not be taking criticism

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seita · 4 years

Text

― you’ve faked an orgasm. ˒ oikawa, atsumu, + sakusa.

genre: angst (?), fluff, suggestive

tags: cunniligus, mating press, cum eating, fingering, dirty talk

request: hello! can i request oikawa, atsumu and sakusa where they realize you faked an orgasm with them?

note: this is kind of more,,,,reassurance and soft??? idk what you intended the req to be but,,,,hopefully this was it.

⤿ requests currently closed.

― tooru oikawa.

≻ he will be......hurt ≻ like he’ll wanna talk about it ≻ he’ll feel kind of???? ≻ embarrassed ig ≻ that you had to fake it ≻ pls talk to him and tell him what’s goin on ≻ he’ll ask why you didn’t tell him u weren’t feelin it ≻ like he’s always down to help u ≻ he never wants you to go unsatisfied !! ≻ he’ll ask you if you want him to make u cum ≻ he’s more than willing to take the extra time to do it ≻ it’s what u deserve ≻ also it’ll help soothe his humiliation

ever confident in his oral skills, he eagerly spreads your legs, licking his lips at the sight of your wet pussy, dripping white with his cum. he does mind it, sliding his tongue up your slit to collect your mixed juices. he hums, eagerly swallowing it down before spreading your folds to zero in on your hard little clit.

the second his lips wrap around the little bud, your back arches. his tongue circles and flicks before he pulls away, letting the suction go with a loud pop. the sound brings heat to your face, as it always does.

he eats pussy like a mad man, not caring how much of a mess you make on his face. the sounds he makes as he licks your clit and fucks your spasming hole with his tongue are downright obscene. still, you obediently hold your legs open, letting him work you towards your orgasm.

you’re stuck in your head, overthinking and feel yourself struggling to get there. your eyes focus on your boyfriends head of pretty, brown hair, reaching down to run your fingers through the thick locks.

he hums appreciatively, eyes flicking up to see your brows furrowed and a little frown on your face.

he pulls away, panting for a second. you watch his throat move as he swallows before speaking, “hey, just relax. let me make this pretty pussy cum, hm?”

you whimper at his words and he grins as your cunt clenches in response. he slides his tongue over your clit again, laying a wet kiss on the bud,

“you can cum for me whenever you want, babygirl,” he whispers, circling his thumb over your clit, laying his cheek on your thigh to watch the way your cunt gushes more of his cum out, “such a mess you’re making. am i making your little cunt feel good?”

you nod, still clutching at his hair, “tooru! pl-please!”

he grins, “that’s what a i like to hear, what do you need, baby?”

“y-your tongue, please,” you barely get the request out before he’s sloppily tonguing your clit again.

spit and cum make a mess all over the both of you. he doesn’t let his eyes leave you as he watches your body freeze, tightening up as you dangle precariously on that tantalizing edge.

he viciously wraps his lips around the bud and sucks, finally catapulting you over. you tremble and squirm in his grasp, tugging painfully at his hair. he doesn’t mind, it’s worth it to watch you finally fall apart.

when you come down, he slithers back up your body, lower face glistening.

“next time you can’t cum,” he breathes, grinding his, once again, hard cock against you, “just tell me, okay?”

― atsumu miya.

≻ OHOHOHOBOY ≻ YOU BETTER HOPE HE DOESN’T FIND OUT ≻ BC MAN WILL N O T BE HAPPY ≻ it’s a massive blow to his ego ≻ and he’s a pretty prideful guy ≻ really prides himself on his ability to take care of you ≻ like oikawa, he’ll wonder why you didn’t just,,,,tell him you couldn’t get off??? ≻ like “babe, i woulda helped ya, you know that.” ≻ will feel pretty hurt over it, might even get a little mad that you couldn’t just tell him and instead chose to fake it ≻ won’t let you out of his sight without making cum for real ≻ might even fuck around and make you cum a few times just to prove to himself he actually can do it ≻ pls he’s a bit insecure and needs to fix his bruised ego lmao

his fingers are buried inside you before you can even think twice. it wasn’t that you weren’t feeling good, it just wasn’t quite enough to send you over the edge in time.

he doesn’t care that his hand is getting covered in his own cum. he can clean it up later. it aides in the slick movements he makes to fuck the tips of his fingers perfectly against your g-spot, the stimulation immediately making you cry out.

it feels like it’s too much and you reach out to grasp at him. you pull at his arm, claw at his back, and fist his hair. he doesn’t mind, lets you cling to him all you need as he brings his other hand down to press against your lower stomach.

you squeal and your legs kick as the move makes it even easier for him to abuse that sweet little spot on your upper wall. he thumbs as your clit, brows furrowed as his eyes are locked on your cunt.

his gaze is dark, anger still swirling within them.

“you better cum for me,” he orders low, bicep flexing as he fucks your gushing cunt. you sob, tears stinging your eyes at the overwhelming feelings. soft pleas fall from your lips, to let you rest, to slow down, that it’s too much. but he heeds none of them, “quiet, i know what ya need.”

you whine and resort to clawing at the bed, not wanting to leave visible marks on your boyfriend. he’s breathing heavily, his arm is no doubt aching but he still doesn’t stop. not until a loud shout erupts from your lips when he rolls your clit under his thumb.

“cum,” he growls, “ya better cream all over my fuckin’ hand right now.”

you heed his demand, walls clenching tight around his fingers as you finally fall over the edge. he groans as he cum, slowing his pace considerably to ease you through the high, not wanting to overstimulate you and potentially ruin your orgasm.

he removes his thumb from your clit but keeps his fingers buried inside. your walls continue to spasm around him in the orgasmic aftershocks. your chest rises and falls with the desperate breaths you take, your body trembling. he grins, happy to see the lovely mess you became. you could never replicate your orgasm to be as perfect as you were right now.

before long, he starts moving his fingers again and you look at him with wide eyes, making him grin.

“you didn’t think that was it, did ya?” he asks, “no, i’m gonna make sure ya regret fakin’ it with me.”

― kiyooma sakusa.

≻ he’ll immediately know ≻ he pays insanely close attention to you ≻ he literally knows every detail about you ≻ including the way you act and feel when you cum ≻ won’t even hesitate in calling it out ≻ you’ll have to explain it to him bc he’s not letting you go anywhere until u tell him what happened ≻ after that, he’ll just roll his eyes and be like ≻ “you should have just told me,” and then he’ll go on his way about makin you cum properly ≻ don’t test him. ≻ u can’t trick him

he folds you you into a press, your knees pinned to your chest as he resumes fucking you. you’re lucky he hadn’t cum because he immediately knew you faked it. the time taken to talk to you had made his nearing orgasm wane.

he angles his hips properly, brows furrowed as he watches your cunt swallow his cock. every time he pulls out, he’s covered in your juices and the sight makes him groan.

“yoomi,” you whimper in that oh so pretty way you always do when you feel good.

he fights back a smile, bringing his thumb to his lips to lick the pad before pressing it against your swollen clit. you keen immediately, attempting to arch your back but can’t because of his strength. you reach down and grip his wrist desperately, your eyes wide as you feel your high mounting.

it was insane how easily he could manipulate your body into cumming in a few short minutes if he really wanted to.

“cum,” he orders softly, immediately clenching his jaw when he feels your cunt lock up around him.

you tremble and your eyes roll back as you squeal, cumming hard on his cock as he fucks you through it until your gasping and begging for him to slow down, which he eventually does with a sigh, letting you wrap your legs around his waist again.

“see?” he grumbles, wrapping his hand around your throat before leaning down to brush his lips against yours, “that’s what you’re like when you really cum.”

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #oikawa x reader #atsumu x reader #sakusa x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #filled.request

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bibbykins · 4 years

Text

Some Extra Help (M)

First smut of the series! Certainly not the last lmao! I hope you guys like it! Their soft yandere rlly shows here and I’m excited to expand on that dynamic with such an isolated MC who is so oblivious. As always, please do not aspire for unhealthy relationships that I write irl. These relationships only function (and even barely sometimes) in a fictional world. Stay safe and enjoy!

Pairing: Soft Yandere!Yoongi and Jin x Chubby!Reader

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: 18+, vibrator gets stuck, cunnilingus, fingering, soft dom! jin and yoongi, sub, kinda brat! reader, crying, some name-calling, daddy kink, sir kink, hickeys, dumbification if you squint, yandere themes, beginnings of an unhealthy relationship, toxic mindset, possessive tendencies

Part of The Household’s Bunny Series

Clad in a black mesh lingerie set with black bunny ears on your head was the last way you thought you would be waiting for the two oldest housemates, but here you were. You never thought you would meet your demise at the hands of a cylindrical chrome bullet vibrator, but here you were.

Your body was so warm from the thrashing it had been doing each time you so much as cough and it turns on. Worst of all, you hadn't even cum once. You were getting edged by this evil vibrator and it was not helping your already shitty situation.

In what felt like the longest five minutes of your life, you heard the elevator ding, “Y/N?” He called for you and you sighed in relief, somehow triggering the vibrator again.

"Yoongi-AH!" The man's heart nearly stopped hearing his name crumble into a moan coming from you, "Fuck." You groaned and he was met with you on your bed that you had in your filming area with a tripod in front of you, ring light on, and lingerie still intact. Although, with your body's movements a strap had fallen down your shoulder.

He made his way to you, "I'm right here, don't worry." He shushed you softly as he grabbed your hand, sitting on his knees as he placed himself at your head, "Are you in pain?" He asked worriedly and you shook your head.

You moved a bit and it turned it off as you sighed in relief, "I keep getting right there, and then it takes it away." You whined, chest heaving, "That hurts, but other than that I'm okay."

He stroked your hand softly, gentle eyes looking down at you, trying his hardest not to be turned on at the sight of you half-naked with a vibrator inside of you, "Is me being here helping?” His voice was always gentler around you.

You nodded as you nuzzled into your joined hands. You had grown rather close with Yoongi in your time here. Granted, you had grown pretty close with everyone in their own way, but Yoongi checked in on you most often and indulged in your clingy nature.

His heart fluttered at the show of affection. He was drawn to you in a way he couldn’t explain and the PDA only made him feel more and more like an infatuated puppy, “Alright, well, don’t worry, Jin will be here soo-”

"I'm here!" The elevator dinged and revealed the doctor, still in his coat and hurriedly making his way to the both of you, "Are you okay, y/n?" He kneeled at your stocking-clad feet before his eyes snapped to Yoongi.

Sensing the confusion, you spoke up, "I am, and he's here for moral support-OH FUCK!" You moaned sinfully as the vibrator sprang to life, gripping Yoongi's hand and he nearly cursed at the eroticism of it all, but luckily for you, the vibrator stopped just as quickly, "I had pulled my panties to the side and slid the damn thing in, but I was so wet I just lost it-ah!" The vibrator awoke inside of you and you cried out.

Jin tried his best to ignore his growing boner and went into doctor mode, explaining that he would be taking off your underwear, "I just need- I left my gloves in the car oh my-"

"And you call yourself a doctor?!" Yoongi snapped before you squeezed his hand.

"If you gotta finger me, so be it, if you're- mmh- okay with it." You squealed and the older man nodded nervously, stripping you of your underwear, inhaling sharply at the sight before him. Your thick thighs opened shyly for him.

You were glistening and when you spread yourself for him, he fought a choked moan at your beauty. Yoongi fairing no better as you moaned helplessly, his hand being your only tether to Earth at this point. Since day one, all the men in the house were entranced by you. You were beautiful, kind, and unabashedly yourself. Not to mention they all were some of the highest payers on you OnlyFans. And yet, you just saw this as them being some of the kindest people you met or obscenely supportive housemates. This made pursuing you difficult, seeing as all of the people they have ever pursued were able to read in between the lines of their gestures or bold enough to pursue them. Either way, the attraction to you was a poorly kept secret as their obsession and fixation with you only grew. Even with the two most composed men in the house, the air was quickly heavy with their growing arousal as you took your bottom lip in your teeth.

Maybe it was the idea of being watched or the desperation of being edged, but you couldn't help but be that much more turned on by these two attractive men watching you get sexually tortured. Your mind was getting muddled with nothing but a want to be dominated by these men still in their suits. Your back arched when you felt Jin's slender fingers go in, the bloomings of pleasure going with it, "Fuck, yes!" You gasped out, and it was just now both of the men realized, because somehow they hadn't earlier, you were turned on.

Jin had to screw his mouth shut when he felt your walls clench around his finger. You were so warm and wet and fuck, he really wanted to taste you, "Bunny, don't move so much, you'll just get it more stuck." He softly warned and you responded with a strangled whine that made him curse under his breath. He recalled from your videos that you were a needy sub, but he figured you were playing most of it up for the screen. Surely, you didn’t fulfill his fantasies that naturally. Yet, here you were, being a bratty sub he wanted to tease.

"But it feels so good." You gasped out and Jin looked to an equally fucked up Yoongi for help.

Yoongi nodded at the older man before directing his attention to you, which he immediately regretted. Your mouth was slightly parted, tongue nearly peaking out, and when he saw your eyes, he knew you had slipped into subspace, "Baby, be still." His voice was soft, unsure how to proceed, but when you shook your head defiantly, he sighed, knowing what he had to do, "Bunny." His voice was stern now, no longer soft, but it seemed you faltered in your movements, "Am I going to have to hold you down, or are you gonna be still like a good girl?" His eyes were darker now as he scrutinized your form and you whimpered.

Before Jin could chastise Yoongi for succumbing to his desire to dominate you, he felt you clench around his fingers as your body became more still. Oh, so it was working.

"I-I'm trying." You wailed helplessly, near tears.

"I know." He cooed, cupping your face gently, placing a sympathetic kiss on your cheek, "Just keep trying. Can you do that for Jin and I?" He was much softer now that you were listening to him and you nodded with a pout.

"You're doing great, pretty girl." Jin cooed at you similarly, restraint slipping as his finger twisted inside of you, "I almost got it, okay?" You nodded wordlessly but screamed when his fingers touched the vibrating toy. Yoongi had to place his forearm across your stomach to hold you down. Jin nearly had the toy and neither of them wanted to risk your squirming pushing it further in.

"I'm-I'm-" You babbled, chasing your sweet release only to have it ripped away as Jin slid the toy out of you, making you cry fully.

"It's out, sweet girl, why are you crying?" Jin asked lightly as he placed the tiny toy off to the side.

"Please." You begged both of them, tiredly but fully aware, "I just want to cum." Tears were running down your cheeks, "I'm sorry..." You were obviously embarrassed but Jin shushed you softly.

"It's okay, sweetheart, we're not mad." He spoke softly and placed a kiss on your thigh, squishing the skin between his hands, enjoying the plush skin he’s dreamt about for so long under his fingertips, "We can make you cum if you want?" His breath was heavy.

"Please." You croaked desperately.

Yoongi nodded, eyes as soft as ever, "How do you want us, baby?" His voice was low as he wiped some of your tears.

You blinked up at him, "H-However… are you sure you guys want to?" You blubbered and turned to Jin who slid the fingers that were inside you into his mouth, never breaking eye contact until his eyes rolled back in ecstasy, making you gasp.

Jin was usually so composed and polite, but here he was, sucking your juices off his fingers erotically. He had dreamt about the taste of you, but it could not compare to the real thing, the real sweetness of you laying in front of him, wet and desperate. His fingers popped from his mouth and he groaned, "You taste so good, little bunny." He breathed, completely overtaken with lust by now, "Can I really keep tasting you?" He asked, hands stroking your thick thighs until you nodded. He spread you for him and groaned at the sight, "Such a pretty girl." He purred.

"We'll take good care of you, baby." Yoongi promised, leaning down to capture your lips in between his as Jin licked a long stripe up your slip making you moan into the younger man's mouth. His hand slid under your flimsy bra, fingers tweaking your nipples, "You're so pretty when you squirm for us." He groaned, now kissing down the column of your neck as Jin's attempts at going slow were hindered by his excitement to taste you.

He hummed into your pussy, reveling in the squeak that came out of you as he ate you out for all he could. His tongue explored every part your sex had, no surface area left untasted. He genuinely could do this all day if you let him, no place other than on his knees making you feel good sounding better. He watched as Yoongi's lips wrapped your hardened nipple, making you moan, spurring Jin on to dip his tongue into your entrance.

You gasped out, on hand threading into Yoongi's hair as the other went to Jin's, making both of the men groan, "Feels so good, Sir." You rasped, bringing cocky smiles to both of the men's faces.

You wanted to squirm but Yoongi held you firmly in place as Jin fucked you with his tongue, "You feeling good, crybaby?" He whispered lovingly, leaning up to nip your ear lobe.

"Yes, Sir, so good." You moaned out, "Please don't stop, I'm so close." You begged and Yoongi chuckled darkly in your ear, fingers still stimulating your nipples.

"Well when you beg so pretty," He pinches your nipple a bit harder, making you jolt, "How can we make you cum just once?" He chided.

This made your eyes roll back as Jin pressed his face into you further before pulling back for a moment, fingers gingerly making circles around your clit, "Alright, pretty girl, you're going to cum on my tongue and then I'll let Yoongs taste you, okay?" His eyes dart to you as you nod, but his eyes narrow, "You can talk, can't you?" He teases, fingers slipping in and pressing into your clit from the inside, "Or are you just going to cum like this." He sped up his circles as he bluffed hut you shook your head desperately.

"No Sir, please!" You cried out, "Please, wanna cum on your mouth- AH!" Before you could even finish, Jin dove his tongue back into you.

You nearly screamed as you felt the long-awaited orgasm creep up on you, "I can tell you're about to cum so pretty, aren't you baby?" Yoongi teased as he leaned into to kiss you, taking your moans into his mouth.

"Can I cum, daddy?" You begged, making the men tending to you moan.

"Of course, baby." Yoongi murmured into your mouth, "Be a good girl and cum so I can clean you up." That was all it took for the coil to snap as an earth-shattering orgasm overtook your body, screaming for the whole building to hear as he kissed your neck.

Jin rode you through the orgasm with blissful hums until it was time for him to pull away, "That was beautiful, bunny." He praised, "Think you can handle another so Yoongs can have a taste?" He asked sweetly.

You nodded, "Yes, Sir." You breathed and Yoongi's tongue clicked, catching your attention.

"I kinda liked us being your daddies." He pouted mockingly and he watched embarrassment creep onto your face, so he leaned over your, "Come on, baby, are you ready for me to taste you?"

"Yes, daddy." You muttered shyly, making him smile before going to switch spots with Jin.

Jin approached you with a kind smile and gentle eyes as he knelt down to give you a kiss, "Hi, beautiful." He mused and before you could respond, Yoongi dove into you face-first like a man starved. You gasped, gripping Jin's forearm, "You taste divine, but it is nice to see your pretty face all twisted in pleasure." He leaned in for a deeper kiss, tongue massaging your own as you moaned into his mouth.

You felt Yoongi spread your lips before he stiffened his tongue to provide pressure on your clit as he drew circles around it. You gripped his hair, trying to pull him closer but he smacked your thigh as a warning. He guided your hand, pinning it to the side as he flattened his tongue over your slit and repeatedly dragging it up, collecting your juices in his mouth as Jin swallowed your moan, his hand going to your exposed breasts while the other cradled your neck.

"So sweet." Yoongi murmured before his tongue slipped inside of you and he moaned.

"Holy shit!" You gasp and tried to fuck yourself onto his face but Jin held you down.

"Don't cheat, sweet girl." He tsked playfully before sucking harshly on your neck, making you gasp, your hand going from clutching the sheets to tangled in his hair, "Fuck, what are you doing to me." He grunted into your neck.

With the sensitivity from your last orgasm and the skilled tongue of Yoongi, your release was quickly approaching as Jin found a sensitive spot on your neck, "Daddy!" You whined, "It-I-Uh-mm…" You babbled, trying to find words as Yoongi's thumb rubbed just above your clit as his tongue fucked you deeply.

Jin laughed wickedly, "We fucked her dumb, Yoongs, our poor baby." He was truly a different man under the spell of arousal and your taste, "You trying to ask to cum?" He cooed as you grabbed onto his hair harder and he let out a strangled moan.

"Yes, daddy, please can I cum?" You managed to beg yet again and both of the men made noises of aroused approval.

"Of course you can, good girl." Jin murmurs into your neck as Yoongi hums.

With approval from the dominating men above you, you gripped desperately onto Jin and came with a needy cry as Yoongi kitten licked until you finish fully.

"Shit, you taste good, baby." He pressed a wet kiss to your thigh before he slid your underwear back up.

"Thank you, guys." You muttered, eyes barely open now that the exhaustion hit you, "That was, like, super nice of you." You giggle tiredly.

Jin pressed a kiss to your head before standing, going to grab you his jacket in case you were getting cold. "Thank you for letting us taste you." He chuckled.

"You guys aren't leaving, right?" The men stop their movements at your question, "Not that you have to stay if you have better stuff to do or if you feel weird-"

"Do you want us to stay, sweetheart?" Yoongi asked and you nodded, eyes pleading, "Then we'll stay." He affirmed and his heart sank at your relief. Why had so many people left you?

"Do you want to lay here?" Jin asked softly and you shrugged.

"My real bed is over there and I am dead weight, so it's oka- Jin!" You laughed as he lifted you up like a princess, "I'm heavy, you're gonna hurt yourself." You chided.

"I'm no weakling." He quipped back and you rolled your eyes as he carried you to the bed, laying you down gracefully.

Both men laid on either side of you, pressed close, with their arms around you, "I feel bad not returning the favor." You snorted but the guys protested, "I have this urge to say thank you for being attracted to me because it feels nice to be wanted by you." You rambled sleepily, "I care about you all so much, I'd keep you all to myself if I could." You giggle, like it's an absurd idea, before letting your eyes fully close, "I'm glad we can be at least this close."

The men look to each other as slumber takes you. They exchange knowing looks. Now that they've gone this far, they can't bear the thought of being with anyone else, or you being with anyone else outside of the building. You were a rare gem, and they could not bear the thought of giving you away. People could look, sure, but they could never feel you. The world had its chance with you, and everyone turned their backs on you, so they would now be the only ones to be so close, it had to be that way and soon. Although, bringing this up to you would have to wait. They would need to see how you fare with the other men in the house, who undoubtedly want you just as much. No, needed you. They all unabashedly, undoubtedly, and understandably, needed you.

Tip Jar

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jd-loves-fiction · 3 years

Note

Draken + Heating, obscenity and aftercare . And by the way I am loving your event with all my soul, my biggest dream come true. Stay hydrated and don't overdo whatever work you have in hand, you are more important ✨

🦊 Thank you for the lovely words honey, I’m so glad you like it🥺 sorry it’s taking so long, I’ve just started college and it’s weird🥴

◈ Heating up ◈

◈ genre: smut + fluff

◈ pairing: Draken x fem!reader

◈ warnings: belly bulging, heat, dom!reader for a moment, then sub!reader?kinda?, rough sex, aftercare❤

A pale chest heaves with heavy breaths, glistening with sweat despite the body’s owner barely having moved in the last few minutes as fingers pitter-patter down the smooth planes slowly as a way to give you time to think about how to proceed.

Seeing such a tall, physically imposing man, squirm with hazy eyes and lips parted around desperate gasps for air, as if the window isn’t wide open to help ease the heat beneath his skin, is more puzzling than most decisions you’re faced with everyday. And much more exciting.

You chuckle as his hips twitch when you fingers travel lower towards the sliver of skin just above his waistband while his fingers tighten around the sheets beneath in an attempt to keep his self-control intact.

"Come on, baby." Draken urges you through gritted teeth, hips raising to chase your fingers before you draw them away, making his torso deflate in disappointment.

"You're so needy." You coo, not to shame him but in wonder, "Can't help it. Sensitive," he responds with a deep red blush on his cheeks upon realizing that you're right but not bothering to construct full sentences anymore with how gone he is.

"I'd take care of that if you told me what you want. I can't read minds, y'know?" You chuckle teasingly, delighted by his seemingly weak state, unaware of the dark, lustful thoughts going through his head.

Busy looking very pleased with yourself, you don't notice Draken's expression shifting to something darker, filled with determination, so you're rather surprised when he manhandles you onto your back with his hands on your waist.

Your gasp is cut off with a fervent kiss as Draken grinds his weeping cock against your wet cunt. Your arms wrap around his shoulders to bring him closer and the moment his chest touches yours, you notice just how warm he is, how heavy his breathing has become and how much sweat costs his skin. He's really suffering, and by the look he gives once he pulls away from your lips, you know he wants to make you suffer a little too.

But he can't. Not right now. Not with how hard his cock is due to his heat and the friction against your naked center, he'll go crazy if he waits any longer. So he pushes in, as gentle as he can despite how his hips urge him to press forward all the way in.

Your moaning stutters, interrupted by desperate gasps for air, when his hips meet yours, thighs twitching beneath the weight he lays upon you, "So deep," you inhale your words.

His tail twitches along with his ears, torn between laying flat against his head and standing at attention due to the contradicting urges to pound you into the mattress due to his own desperation and to take it slow and tease you in turn for teasing him before. But once again he is struck with the realization that his heat will make the decision for him for as long as it last, so pounding it is.

You’re still holding your breath while attempting to fully relax when Draken starts moving, harsh and fast, smacking his pelvis against yours and grinding to catch your clit just to fell your walls squeeze him that much tighter every time.

His tail brushes your legs as they wrap around his waist, hoping to pull him closer, which he does without words needing to be exchanged. His chest presses against yours, holding you down as the vibrations of your moans resound all over his sensitive chest.

“K-Ken! Fill me up, be a good boy and cum inside me.” You coo, nails scratching just behind his black ears as he grunts deeply, hips stuttering while his brows furrow, brought closer to his end by the debauched expression on your face due to his rock hard cock bullying that sweet spot inside you so often that your face goes lax, brain unable to physically express the pleasure you’re feeling. God, he loves that expression so much, loves how it shows him how much he’s affecting you without words, since you can’t manage those at the moment.

“Fuck,” Draken curses before letting out a sigh of your name, hips slowing down as he becomes overwhelmed by his own senses, surrounded by your scent, by the feel of your skin, its taste lingering on his tongue and your eyes all he can focus on. So his hips slow, but don’t lose their strength, still dragging harshly against your sweet spot just to hear you sob at the feeling of being so suffocatingly full and unable to get away from it.

When he looks down and sees a faint bulge on your abdomen, he loses every last trace of humanity, going back to his frantic pace, uncaring of how overwhelmed he suddenly feels from the onslaught of emotions. It’s all numb, better yet, it doesn’t matter. All that matters now is your cries as he presses down on the bulge while thrusting that much harder as he quickly reaches his orgasm, “Oh god, please-!”

He still begs while he cums, pleading for mercy on his own overly-sensitive body which twitches as you squeeze around him, cumming a second after he’s done. His body falls over yours in exhaustion, trying his best to not crush you but his arms won’t listen, twitching and wobbling until you pull him down to lay on your chest making him sigh comfortably.

Thanking your foresight, you reach over to the nightstand to grab a cool water bottle before maneuvering Draken onto his back, he grumbles but settles easily once you brush his matted bangs from his face fondly. You warm up the bottle with your hands for a moment as to not hurt his throat, knowing that he’s very sensitive right now, physically and emotionally, before bringing it to his lips for him to drink. After that you place the nearly empty bottle against his sweaty skin to help him cool down as he pants, reaching over to grab a washcloth to clean him up when he shoves the bottle away weakly.

You place kisses all over his skin as you clean him up, hoping to quell the feelings of shame he no doubt feels at that moment, face red from more than exertion.

“Thank you...” Draken whispers, large hands running over your hips while he nuzzles your neck in search of your comforting scent, sighing as you pet his messy hair.

“Always here for you, Ken.”

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bubblegumbi0tch · 3 years

Text

The Vacation

Warrings: Creampie and public sex

"Ladies and gentlemen, please clip on your seat belts and get ready for the time of your lives. The safety precautions are as follows on the screen. Thank you for flying with Peach Aviation, where every journey is exciting. The flight attendant's voice echoed throughout the airplane. After clipping on your seat belt for the landing to Brazil where Oikawa was taking you, you turned towards him. "You seriously want me to believe that this was spontaneous and not a planned vacation." Yup!" He stated, popping the p. "You seem thrilled today." You reported. "Obviously, you have put up with me for four years, and you are still here. "He smiled softly up at you. "Plus... There's the fact that I am about to get some." "Who said that? What makes you sure you are going to get some?" You unclipped the belt and got up, taking hold of your handbag next to you.

"What?! Seriously Y/N…princess?" He followed you out of the plane. What you saw in the open-air took your breath away. All around you, there are lush green mountains, sounds of seagulls, and the waves crashing entered your ears. The beautiful architecture is all around you. You turned around to face Oikawa, only to bump into his chest. His muscular arms wrapped around you stable. "Took your breath away, didn't it?" He questioned. "Happened to me too, just like the very first time I saw you, in that little black dress and heels during one of my first games, I knew I had to have you." He smiled down at you. It's beautiful, Tooru. I don't have words to explain, but it really is." You stated. "I know. When I talked to Hinata about a good place to take you, he recommended a nice beach. We visit him before we go. He stated. "Happy Anniversary, princess. "He whispered you. "Tooru, I don't know what to say. You really didn't have to do this." "You could express your gratitude by giving me a Thank-you kiss for one! "He smirked. You kissed him with all the emotions inside you. At that moment, it was just you two, two lovers kissing without any care, as their lips tangoed perfectly together.

"You want to spend all your weekend here at the airport or actually go down to the hotel?" He pulled away. "It's a five-minute walk from here." "Let's go!" You exclaimed excitedly and then dragged him down the out of the airport you're rolling luggage in hand and to the pathway, half cemented and half not. You marveled at the beauty of the scenery. It was stunning. The birds chirped, and the wind blew perfectly. He clasped his hand into yours. According to Oikawa, you were the prettiest girl he's ever seen. As the two of you walk both near the hotel's main doors, Oikawa checks in, and the bellhop gets your bags. As you open the door to your room, Oikawa suddenly stopped and turned to you, only to pick you up by the knees and the shoulder, bridal style.

You squealed in surprise. "What in the heavens are you doing, Tooru?" You threw your head back in laughter. Carrying you inside our room, what else?" And then he spun around, with you in his arms.

"Tooru !" You squealed again.

"Keep practicing princess, you are going to need it tonight." This caused your checks to heat up.

As Oikawa walked in further inside the room, your eyes slipped onto the glass wall on the opposite side, which gave you a perfect view of the ocean.

"You know only married couples do this?" You questioned as you walked over to the wall.

You heard him shuffling but paid no heed; you were far more invested in the view. "I know, but you have to admit you like it. Imagine being Mrs. Oikawa … Oikawa (y/n) has a nice ring to it, don't you think" he smiles. You nod at him. "Now, love, why don't we head over to the beach? We can watch the sunset together. As the both of you get changes, Oikawa's jaw drops the second you walk out of the bathroom wearing a bathing suit that hugs you in all the right places. Accentuating the best parts of your body. "Wow (y/n), you look amazing." You see his eyes sparkle a light blush cover his cheeks. You smile at him as he holds your hand, leading you down to the beach.

As you walk down to the beach, you hear the gentle washing of the waves sings a lullaby to your ears. You have always loved the sound of the ocean, so serene yet holding so much power. 'Thank you again for bringing me here, love.' You tell Oikawa as he sets up a towel. "Anything for you princess you how much I like to spoil you." The two of you are sat on a towel by the beach, watching the sun paint its oranges and yellows in the sky. You were distracted by the sky that you didn't see Oikawa get up on one knee; he holds your face in his palm, gently Turing you to him. "Y/N L/N, my girlfriend, my love, and my heart. I know I am not the most deserving man on this planet. I have made my fair share of mistakes. But you have changed that. You have been a source of light in one of the darkest periods of my life, so today, I am asking you will you let me be your light? Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" By the time his speech ended, tears were streaming down your face.

"Yes! Yes! Thousand times, yes." You nodded.

Oikawa got up from his position, grabbing your hand and slipping on the diamond on your finger.

"You have made me the happiest man alive on this planet, Y/N." He stated. "I love you, Mrs. Oikawa."

"And I love you, Mr. Oikawa." He pulled you into a deep passionate kiss, your saliva mixing. When you pull apart, a string connects the two of you. You look around and notice that you two are the only ones left on the beach. That "Let's go swimming princess" he starts running towards the water. You feel your feet sinking into the soft sand. You pad after him towards the calm, beckoning water. Oikawa smirks at you. You screech into the quiet beach when he all of a sudden picks you up and carries you bridal-style into the sea. Bringing you further into the sea and complaining about the cold water. A droplet of water is trickling along the edge of his jaw; your focus is transfixed at its smooth descent to his chin. Your bodies are bobbing with the calm waves, up, down, up, down.

Then your eyes lock, you feel a heat building up inside you. Oikawa looks at you and sears a mark in you, and it's burning like the flames of hell all the way down to your core. With the side of his finger, he doesn't need to so much as touch you to tip your head up his way because that's how willing you are. One tilt, that's all it takes to kiss him right now. His fingers are sinking into your tender waist, and immediately you need to feel inside you. "I love you, princess" He slides his cheek against yours and traces the bridge of your nose with the tip of his. He dips his face in closer to your lips, nearing one another. You taste the sea on his lips, salt, and cold. It feels like diving into the ocean, plunging into the deep blue, and simply allowing your body to be swept away. His kiss is greedy, hungry, willing you to submit to him and follow his lead.

Legs wrapping around his torso in the water, his hands caress up your thighs to your ass, digging into your plump flesh with an ardor that releases damp arousal from your slit. Your own fingers grope down his chest and toy with his hair, scratching and tugging. When he nibbles on your bottom lip, and you know that you're done for. You melt like putty in his control, meeting his tongue with soft obedience you don't usually exert. Tooru .' You gasp into his mouth. 'I told you that you were gonna be screaming my name tonight, (y/n).' he says before diving back into you. Those words send the possessive animal in your mind wild with satisfaction.

Because yes, he's all yours tonight. When you feel his stiff length poke underneath you, your cunt is set ablaze with desire. Desire to sink down onto him this instant and have him pound into you amidst the ocean until you both feel faint. The desire for him to break you in half with all his might, make your eyes water with from the pleasure he stabs into you. He holds you as the both of you walk to shore together. Lips never leaving one another's. His mouth travels down to your breasts, and he doesn't hesitate to devour them from your bathing suit, suckling angry red/ purple marks down your cleavage and around your nipples. Though clothed, the prominence of his big cock burrows between your wide-open entrance, rubbing against your bikini-clad clit and making you thrust your hips further into him.

Enjoying the euphoria from his touch, you don't realize you're on land until he gently falls onto his knees and carefully places you on the towels below him. You pull him by the neck onto you. As he kisses a torching trail down your wet body, your mind is somewhere else in heaven that worships your fiancé Oikawa. His large hands kneading your exposed breasts, the wisp of his breath tingles down your stomach, tying a knot in your core. His teeth, he obscenely tugs lose the string that ties your bikini bottom together. The fabric falls loose lifelessly, revealing your soaking cunt, shimmering with want for him.

‘So wet (y/n) .’ He muses as he kisses your pelvis, finger stroking up your slick to gather the liquid of your arousal. Then he prods his finger into your mouth, your tongue compliantly lapping up your own taste, salty from the sea. 'Who made you this wet, mmm?'

'You.' You're practically pleading as he sucks viciously at your inner thigh, so close to your weeping pussy. I want you to scream my name by the time we're done." When he first links his lips to your clit, your hips buckle upwards, and fingers fly to entangle his chestnut hair. Sucking harshly on your sensitive bud, all you're capable of is squirming and writhing underneath him. The sensation of his mouth sucking on your succulence sends a shot of ecstasy down your quaking legs. Your head feels dizzy.

'"Fuck!' You whine. "You like that, princess ?' When he looks up at you, a wet smirk on his lips breathing hot air into your cunt, a coil winds in your stomach. T-Tooru.' Your grip on his hair tightens.

Then he's gorging you like a feast, tongue fluttering on your swollen bundle of nerves, your kryptonite, teeth scraping along your folds seductively. After several licks of your entrance, he pushes two digits into your gummy cunt. The ease in, lubricated by your moist walls that welcome the pressure of his intrusion into you like the open sea. He draws wide circles inside you, and it feels like your innards are being stirred to perfection by a metal rod. In the meantime, his assault on your clit doesn't falter, rhythmically hitting his tongue against you. Allowing the vibrations of his humming to penetrate your core. Looking down, this is simply the most beautiful sight you've ever witnessed. Oikawa's brown eyes glimpsing up at you hungrily, face buried nose-deep in your pussy. Hands gripping under your thighs that are rested on his shoulders, the beautiful scenery of the sunset, its glow onto you, and the ocean in the background play a symphony to your moans and his filthy slurps.

Suddenly, an explosion of pleasure arrives at your clit. 'Oh, fuck yes!' You screech, throat raw from the pure elation that washes over you. The throbbing in your cunt releases at his continuous friction, pulsating so wildly you think you will burst. His fingers pump out your high as he sucks one last time, long and hard, on your beating clit. 'Ah… Oh my god… Tooru…' he emerges from between your legs to breathe. You watch as your fluid dribble down his chin lewdly, your thumb swipes to catch the wetness.

'How was that?' Untangling his arms from your legs, he walks up on his elbows to meet your lips in a tender kiss.

'Wow.' You utter against his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head for dramatic effect. 'Let's continue back in our room.' Quickly you do up your bikini, impatient for more.

Without needing another word, Oikawa sweeps you into his arms, gathers all your belongings, and hastily carries you back to your hotel located just a minute away from the beach. Although, it takes much longer than a minute for you to arrive, seeing as multiple detours are made along the way, fondling behind a tree, kissing in the elevator, and missing your floor.

And when you're finally in the confines of your shared room, he pins you to the closed door, not even bothering to switch on the lights, lips latched onto your magnetizing neck. Your wrists trapped in his grip against the hardwood, you ache to touch him as his teeth find your earlobe. Nipping at your soft round flesh, a pleasant shock is sent down your spine at the twinge of pain. 'Tooru…' You sigh. He pulls away to stare into your beseeching eyes. 'What do you want me to do to you, princess?' His voice is a low grumble of dominance, digging its talons into your brain.

'I want… I want you to fuck me until I cry.' In the dark of the room, your attention flickers to the sunset terrace outside. 'Right on that balcony over there.'

Something in his eyes ignites at your suggestion. Filled with lust, he brings you through the glass door that opens to the fresh setting night. 'You want me to fuck you right here, princess? For everyone to see?' Danger lurking one kiss away, you sense the precarious position his mind is at. So you reach down and grab his hard cock over his shorts and tip his mind to a carnal desire.

'P-please, Tooru.' The name is the last straw for him. His breath hitches as you tug down his pants and allow his enormous cock to spring free. Spinning you around roughly, he bends you over onto the rail of the balcony and strips off your swimsuit in one deft gesture. From here, you have an unobstructed view of the coast, lined by bustling bars and closing restaurants. The neighboring terraces are a meters away; if anyone walks out now, they would horrifically witness Oikawa about to pound into you from behind. Your heart is beating in the excitement of the risk as well as the anticipation of his cock. Not being able to see him, he can thrust into you any moment now; he must be reveling in such control he holds. Then you feel it, his large thick round tip pressing against your entrance curiously. Your legs shake expectantly while fresh arousal leaks out of you, mixing with his precum he's plowing into you. 'Begone more time for me (y/n). Please, Tooru.' Allowing the words to drag out on your tongue, you twist your neck to look at him with large pleading eyes. He looks like a king, towering over you with this much assertion, relishing in the power he holds above you in this very moment.

Hands holding your hips in place, he slams his thick member into your gaping tight pussy in one forceful plunge. You can't help but cry out at the sheer stretch of your walls he's spanning. fuck, he's so big he makes it feels like your first time together all over again. All you think at first is an incredible cinching of your core, the ache of him impaling his rigid shaft through the resisting pressure of your tight pussy. He's fucking massive. He seems to know it as well because he gives you a second to adjust to his size, palm scaling smoothly up the hill of your back to gather your hair in his hand. Then he is pummelling into you, hips slapping against your bottom, ringing such vulgar sounds in your ears. His cock, hard as if carved from marble, piercing through the pain and molding a thing of sweet, sweet pleasure inside you. You grip the rail so tight its edge gouges marks into your skin, your head hung low between your tense arms.

'Fu-uckk princess, you ohhh feel so good around me," he groans. At this angle, his cock is curving up the wrong way into you, jabbing in places that make you go crazy. A part of your soul is no longer with you, propelled elsewhere by his ceaseless merciless attack on your pussy. You feel a sting on your butt. He spanks a searing hot mark into your ass cheek. The sharp pain is refreshing alongside the dull ache behind the euphoric throb he is penetrating into you. "Princess, I love hearing your whimpers their so cute" Another slap echoes in your ears, and you welcome it by curving your back more to tip your tush higher for him.

'Tooru, you fuck me so good.' you egg him on further, stroking his ego as your tight squishy walls are clenching his dick. Pounding into you with such vigor and violence that your folds are beginning to sting.

Moans that fall from his lips tingle at your clit, which you start to play with to add to your stimulation. Another smack on your ass, this time so surprising that you scream out. 'Yes, be loud for me. Let everyone hear how good I make you feel.' He coaxes. Oikawa begins to slow, which you know is a sign that he's close but doesn't cum yet. He bends over you, your hair still tied around his wrist, and nips at the shell of your ear. You've never known your ear to be such a sensitive area, for when his tongue flickers at your inner shell, a shudder convulses through you. Leaving slobbery kisses down the curve of your shoulder.

You wanna Finish on the bed, princess ?' You nod, and Oikawa embraces you from behind; his strong arm comes under your cold lonely breasts that perk up at his attention, his wet cock sitting between your red ass cheeks. The hum of his deep rasp on your neck sends your head lolling back onto his sweat-covered chest. His lips seal yours as he walks you back into the room, leaving the glass door open for the night breeze to grace you. Amidst the rough sex, you treasure such a soft, delicate moment on your tongue, delighting in the way the tips of his fingers trace up your side. When his hand slithers up to your face, you melt into the warm flesh of his palm, mouth opening up for him to unfurl into.

Then the back of your knees hit the bed, and you know it's about to begin again. Without breaking the union of your lips, you clamber onto the sheets with his frame hovering over you. Grappling on his neck, you drag Oikawa on top of you as your head sinks down onto the plush of the pillow.

He sucks on your plump bottom lip one last time before pulling away. Fluid still profusely oozing out of the slit of his tip, he perches between your legs. 'How do you want it, my future wife?' His tone is endearing, yet eyes his eyes are hungry.

Impatient for him to fill you to the brim again, you lift both your legs up for him to grab and place onto his shoulders. 'Like this please, husband.' That's all you have to say for him to grunt okay and push deep into you, knees digging into the mattress. In this position, his cock reaches your cervix without hindrance, his swollen head slamming into your end every thrust he gives. It's a different type of ache this time, more targeted at the one sensitive spot inside you. As he continues, you thrust into you, balls swinging at your ass, a build-up of sensitivity gathers at your core.

You feel it approaching, that imminent contortion of your cunt, looming over you, on the brink of toppling your senses.

'Keep going.' You whimper the filthy feeling of his prick hammering so fast into you enough to bring tears to your eyes. You try to keep them open, watch his tongue poke out in concentration as he watches your body quiver under his. But the intensity of his fucking is truly too overwhelming that a single droplet leaks out and flows down your temple. 'I'm so close.' Oikawa moans, pecking the bone of your ankle. Something ruptures within him; with an even more arduous determination, he drives into your walls like a crazed beast. The sole purpose now is to reach the climax awaiting him; he spreads your legs open wide before him and rabidly plunges his twitching cock.

And for the second and third time this night, your orgasm hits you, one immediately followed by the other. 'Tooru, I'm-' You're a crying thrashing mess beneath him, drool dribbling out of your mouth and teary eyes, the ecstatic pleasure obliterating your mind into ruins as your cunt erupts. The string of profanities that leave you sound incoherent to your own hearing.

You won't be able to walk straight tomorrow; you're sure of it.

Oikawa watches you break on his cock, walls tightening impossibly around him. "(Y/n) I'm gonna cum. Can I cum inside you?" His thrusts start to get sloppy than what they were from the beginning. He starts to pound into and with one final thrust, he shoots his cum in spurts deep inside you. He pulls himself out a string of cum attached to his tip. He sees you haven't moved in your original position, still dazed out from what just happened. He spreads your puffy lips apart. He sees his cum seeping out of you and onto the bed. Oikawa leans down and touches your cheek; you snap out of your trance. "amazing, Tooru." You were too tired to finish your sentence. Oikawa smiles "you were fantastic; I'm so lucky to have you as my future wife." He kissed your temple and carried you off to the bath.

Requests are open ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏⊹ ♥︎

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#hq x reader #hq smut #request are open #hq thirst #hq x y/n #haikyuu x y/n #oikawa x reader #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa smut #oikawa toru x reader #hq oikawa #oikawa torū #oikawa x y/n #haikyuu time skip

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fandom-puff · 4 years

Text

Exception

Pairing: Severus Snape x Lucius Malfoy x Reader

Requested by: @sokkas-socks ‘HI BBY!!! Is there any chance you could do a spicy Lucius x Snape x Reader smut? One where you’re in a relationship with Lucius and he shares you with Snape. Maybe the first time he does this would be cool, where he like calls you into the room and you’re shocked to see Snape there and then... smut ensues. But if that’s too long any snape x lucius x reader smut would be great!’

Notes: okay, you all need to go and follow the requester’s fic page @pinkandblueblurbs bc the smut on there is -*chefs kiss*

ALSO I got a little carried away with this one :)

Warnings: threesome (MMF), oral sex, Dom/sub dynamic, sir kink, degradation

You pulled your long blank dressing gown tight around yourself, shivering as you scurried along the hallways of Malfoy Manner. Lucius had sent a patronus to you from his study, requesting you put on a set of lingerie and nothing more and make your way there.

“Lucius, I swear to god, you better intend on warming me up, it’s bloody freezing out there,” you grumbled pushing into the study. You froze, shutting the door behind you, locking eyes with Severus Snape, who was lounging on one of the armchairs, a glass of whiskey in hand. “What are you doing here?” You demanded, drawing your robe tightly across yourself. Only Lucius was to see your pretty lingerie.

Lucius tsked. “Now, now, kitten,” he chastised gently. “That’s no way to greet our guest,” you shuffled on your feet, murmuring a ‘sorry,’. Lucius smirked, gesturing you over to sit on his lap. “Severus has come to play, my love,” he whispered in your ear, making you shiver as your eyes widened. You looked up at lucius, chewing your lip. A week prior you had discussed inviting severus to join in with your intimate escapades... you hardly expected lucius to act upon it, and you couldn’t help but feel shy, nuzzling your face into Lucius’s neck. “Shh, kitten, don’t be shy,” Lucius said, coaxing your head up. “I distinctly remember you considering what it would be like to be shared... I’m not a man who shares... but severus is an exception,”

Severus smirked, setting his glass down. “Charming,” he said lowly and you failed to suppress your shudder of desire. “Are you in agreement with this, YN?” He asked, and when you gave an honest nod, he smirked.

Lucius tapped your thigh. “Up you get then,” when you made to walk to the door, he grabbed your wrist. “Where D’you think you’re going?” He asked, arching a brow. You gulped.

“Bedroom?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he smirked. “We haven’t admired the view properly yet... did you do ask I asked?” You nodded quickly. “Good girl. Drop you robe. I’m sure severus would love to see your pretty lingerie,” Biting your lip, already breathing shallowly, you untied the robe, allowing it the flutter to the floor. You knew better than to try and cover yourself, displaying your thin Lacy white lingerie to them both. “Give is a twirl, princess,” Lucius smirked, watching as severus leant forward slightly as you slowly rotated. “Good,”

Severus hummed contentedly. “Positively angelic,” he said, dark eyes roving along your body. “So very innocent in that pretty white lace... are you as innocent as you look, YN?” He asked sternly and you gulped, looking at Lucius who just smirked.

“I... no, sir,” you breathed. Severus’s breath hitched.

“And why’s that? Are you not Lucius’s little princess? Hmm?”

Your cheeks flooded with heat and you fidgeted on the spot. “I am!” You said quickly, resisting the urge to pout. “It’s just... I can be... I’m... sometimes... I...”

“Youre my little slut, aren’t you, darling?” Lucius said gently and you nodded.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered.

“Lucius’s little slut? How so?”

You gulped, barely able to meet his eyes. “I... I love taking his cock,” you mumbled. “And I love being filled up with his come... I beg for it, all the time, in my mouth, in my... in my... cunt, and...” you looked at your feet, biting your lip hard. “And sometimes in my arse...”

Severus looked over at lucius and smirked. “My, you dark horse, Malfoy,” he said. “Here’s me thinking you fucked for heirs and were too prim and proper for anything wilder than taking her from behind,”

Lucius let out a laugh and you squirmed before them, pressing your thighs together. “Aww... what’s wrong, pet?” He said, an air of condescension thick in his voice. “Has telling severus what a little whore you are got you all wet?” You nodded, looking down to the floor in shame. “Come here, sit on my lap, your back to me,” you did as you were told, leaning back into his chest, worrying your lip between your teeth as you wriggled. “Still,” he ordered, and you felt his stiffening cock press up against your bum. “I bet your lovely white knickers are all ruined, aren’t they? Absolutely sodden,” you nodded quickly. Severus stood up and knelt before you and Lucius, staring you dead in the eye. “Spread your legs,” Lucius hissed in your ear and you squealed, opening your legs quickly.

“As we suspected, Lucius,” severus said from between your thighs. “Absolutely drenched... I can see the outline of her cunt through the fabric, she’s that wet,”

You whined out softly, hiding your face in Lucius’s neck. Lucius gestured to Severus, and you felt deft fingers yanking the material down your thighs, tossing the damp scrap of lace aside. Lucius grabbed your cheeks between his thumb and fingers and made you look at him. “Severus is going to lick your pretty pussy, darling,” he said and you nodded eagerly. “And it would be very rude of you if you looked away, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes sir,”

“Good girl. Watch.”

You moaned softly, which soon turned much louder as Severus’s tongue darted out, licking between your folds and drinking in your wetness with obscene slurping noises, reminding you what a messy little slut you were. As he wrapped his lips around your clit, his dark eyes smouldered, burning against yours as he sucked, flicking his tongue against your sensitive nub. He held your knees apart, arching his brows at you as you cried out, bucking your hips against his face despite Lucius’s arm around you.

As Severus slid a long finger into you, you let out a shuddering moan, clenching tightly around his finger as he stroked your inner walls gently. When a second was added, his tongue still stroking your clit, your head tipped back and you arched your chest, trying to ride his face and his fingers as best you could. Lucius tutted, tangling his fingers in your hair and pushing your head down. “Watch,” he growled, biting your collarbone as his other hand fondled your tit, tugging the cup of your bra down.

You nodded, staring hard at severus as he scrubbed the flat of his tongue against your clit. “Please,” you whined out, grasping onto Severus’s hair, grinding your hips up to him desperately. “Please, please let me come... I’m so close!” You whispered, biting your lip hard. Lucius nodded at severus over your shoulder, and severus grunted, his fingers massaging against your spot as you cried out, spasming hard around his digits, your clit throbbing against his tongue as he rode out your orgasm.

Smirking, he pulled away, licking his lips before cleaning off his sodden fingers with his tongue. “Divine,” he said simply and you giggled, panting as you flopped against Lucius’s chest, your still twitching hips grinding against his straining trousers.

“Youre hard,” you whispered, nipping his ear gently.

“I know darling... but I have an idea... we’ll go upstairs... we’ll lay you out... severus will fill you up... and I think your mouth shall suffice for me...” you looked over at severus, eyeing the prominent bulge in his trousers and nodded, licking your lips. Lucius smiled and draped your robe over your shoulders as you made your way to the bedroom.

Severus shut the door behind you, watching as Lucius helped you crawl into the centre of the bed, laying on your back, propped up slightly. Lucius hummed, stalking over to severus. “Out of the shadows, old friend,” he purred, pulling Severus in for a sensual kiss. As they kissed, they took turns pushing and pulling their garments off and your eyes widened as you watched their heavy cocks as they were revealed. You whined softly, but knew better than to touch yourself.

Lucius chuckled as he pulled away, the two of them surveying you. “Are you feeling a little neglected, dear?” Lucius asked softly and you nodded.

“We can quickly put an end to that, can’t we?” Severus drawled, stalking over to you. “Get rid of that bra, YN...” you nodded and quickly fumbled with it, tossing it aside. “My, are you eager...” you bit your lip and nodded, already spreading your legs and bucking your hips up.

Lucius smirked, sitting next to you, his hips level with your face. “Are you going to let severus fuck you YN?”

“Yes please...” you whined, looking desperately between them. Severus smirked, pumping his cock a few times before lining himself up with you. Slowly, he pushed in, hissing at your tightness and letting out a choked groan as he bottomed out. He was a little thicker than you were used to, and your eyebrows knitted together as you whimpered at the stretch.

“Does severus feel good inside you, pet?” Lucius asked, stroking your hair.

“Mmm... so good,” you moaned, rocking your hips up eagerly. Severus groaned lowly, settling into a strong slow pace, lips pressed in a firm line as he tried (and failed) to suppress his noises. The hand in your hair suddenly tightened and you gasped, following Lucius’s guidance, allowing him to push his cock down your throat, groaning as your moans vibrated along his shaft.

“Fuck...” Severus hissed through his teeth, eyes widening as he watched the sight before him. “YN, darling... do you think you can manage if I fuck you harder?” Severus grunted and you cast a pleading look over to him, nodding as best as you could with a mouthful of cock. Severus let out a growl as his hips worked faster and you moaned out around lucius, his cock bumping the back of your throat, making you gag slightly. Lucius grunted, bucking his hips up slowly, a heavy contrast from the ruthless pounding you were receiving from his best friend.

Moaning wantonly, you reached to fondle Lucius’s balls, feeling yourself near the edge, whining needily. “She’s close, Severus...” Lucius groaned. “Rub her clit and let her come, there’s a good girl... do you want severus to fill you with his come too?” You nodded eagerly, hollowing your cheeks as tears streamed down your cheeks. As the first spurts of Lucius’s release trickled down your throat, Severus pressed his thumb against your clit. You pulled away as you jolted in pleasure, Lucius’s cock slapping your face as a few spurts of his come soiled your cheek and dripped down to your chest.

Severus growled, coming with a shout as he felt the tightening of your cunt. The combined sensation of him filling you with his seed, still thrusting into you with reckless abandon as he played with your clit, as well as Lucius’s gentle pinches against your nipples was too much for your body to handle and you came with a broken cry, your whole body trembling with the weight of your orgasm. What must have only been a few moments later (although to you, everything was moving in slow motion) you were cleaned up and tucked in between them, your back against Severus’s chest and your head nuzzled into Lucius’s. “Severus should come more often,” you mumbled into Lucius’s chest.

Lucius stared hard at his friend before looking down at you. “I second that, My Darling,”

Tags: @a-hopeless-fan @lotsoffandomrecs @rai-strangebr @zodiyack @haphazardhufflepuff @dumbfuckinslytherin @severuslovebot @darkthought15 @rabeccablake @sambucky8 @eleven-times-lively @talksoprettyjjx @extra-trash77 @rangerelik @Dracosbbygorl @wonderwoman292 @lilymurphy03 @fredweasleyisntdead @fredswh0re @rogertaylorismycar @meaganjm @fanficwriter5 @shadesofbarryallen @kiwi-sloan @bbeauttyybbx @inglourious-imagines @bonniesgoldengirl @trumpsgorillagrip @blisshemmings @little-bit-of-randomness @vsarzx @eunoia-kth @liliputbahn @thestunningspell @kiwi-sloan @beiahadid @courtnytrash04 @ccosmic-illusion @purpleskymalfoy @marshxx @hogwartslut @thatslovelymoony @winchestergirl333 @sterwild

#lucius malfoy x reader smut #severus snape x reader smut #Lucius Malfoy smut #severus snape smut #severus snape x reader #Lucius Malfoy x reader #2021 #harry potter #hp #request #harry potter imagine

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xmint-conditionx · 3 years

Text

art on exhibit | myg + jhs feat. knj

pairing: sugardaddy!hoseok x fem!reader, ceo!yoongi x fem!reader, brat!reader, sub!reader, dom!hoseok, dom!yoongi w/c: 5k but i feel like it should be so much longer for some reason smh summary: you and your sugar daddy, hoseok, are big fans of exhibitionism, but this is the craziest you’ve ever taken it. most of his prestigious party guests are jumping to get to get their hands on you. will you be able to handle it? tags/cw: 18+ please, smut, exhibitionism, voyeurism, remote controlled vibrator, almost reaching limits, spanking, marking, biting, ball gag, degradation (slut), praise, punishment, crying, light oral (f recieving), public humiliation, rope play, shibari, suspension, almost like being pimped out but u like it?, open relationship, hoseok is sort of protective tho, overstimulation, subspace, the orgasm nearly kills you, this one is real nasty, namjoon is just a guest appearance tbh but maybe later he doesn't have to be???

a/n: this thing has given me so much trouble by not appearing in tags. it didn't the first time i posted it on the old blog, and it hasn't been showing up this time either, so please feel free to give this one some extra love. also, honestly, i was sitting on this idea for a long! time! before i actually wrote it out. if i was spaced out in my last class of the day, i was probably thinking about this. i am almost proud and almost ashamed to share this with you all, lmao cause it's honestly a huge fantasy of mine. i’ve been really wanting to do a sugardaddy!hoseok thing for a while, and if you guys like this, then i think i can add more to the story. alright, y’all stay nasty. enjoy!

The ropes dig into the skin of your thighs ever so gently, and you close your eyes to listen to the din of the party that surrounds you. Guests only arrived 30 minutes ago, and you’re already dripping wet. This isn’t the first time you and Hoseok have done exhibitionism, but this is the farthest it’s ever been taken. Men and women in their best black tie attire surround you, glasses of his most expensive champagne in their hands. Not all of them are looking at you; some are too bashful to acknowledge your existence. Some only sneak glances when they think nobody else is looking. Few have come up and examined your entire naked frame, suspended from Hoseok’s ceiling in the middle of his entertainment space.

They’re examining you as if you were a piece of fine art; just another pretty and peculiar object that Hoseok has collected. You’re placed among some of his other art pieces - some Pollocks, some Dalis, some Picassos, and one O’Keefe - and somehow, you feel like you fit. That’s what Hoseok had said anyway. That since you were one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen in his life, he wanted to feature you as the work of art you are. He chose to display you in his favorite way.

Red shibari rope surrounds each of your legs like a cage before confining your hands behind your back. The rope trails over your torso and is twisted and knotted around your exposed breasts, but not tightly. Just enough to accentuate your natural shape. Your legs are tied so that they remain apart, one held higher than the other to leave you fully exposed. Your stomach is facing the floor, but not entirely; Hoseok has tied you so that you’re almost lounging comfortably there, suspended in midair. The lines of rope flow with the form of your body, and even though all of your weight is pressed down onto them, the ropes are the soft and luxurious kind - no doubt expensive - that make you feel as though you could be floating instead.

Just then, your attention is jolted to your cunt, where his favorite black remote control vibrator has just been triggered. You clench around it, and your moan is muffled by the ball gag that is secured over your lips. When you open your eyes, he is standing solidly in front of you.

His black button up shirt and jacket combination is draped over his shoulders beautifully, and his shiny brown hair is parted in the middle. He looks incredible. Radiant. Sinful.

“You looked bored,” he says with a little smirk as he continues to let the vibrator run inside of you, “and we can’t have that… Perhaps I should turn it up.”

He twists a small knob on the remote and the vibrations steadily rise in frequency until they’re as high as they can go. A semblance of a scream escapes your lips behind the gag. You begin rocketing toward climax, but Hoseok knows you and your body too well. Just as you begin to feel the tingles spread over your body, he shuts it off, and your muscles immediately go lax from being tensed up and ready to come.

He laughs softly as you pant, and then takes a quick look around the room.

“You seem to have gathered some attention. That’s my good girl.”

Without another word, he pockets the remote, and you watch how his ringed fingers delicately pick up a flute of champagne from one of the server’s tray tables. Then he simply walks away. His immaculately shiny black shoes gently thud on the marble floor as he makes his way through the crowd, to presumably some other obscenely rich friend of his.

You feel a small amount of saliva about to peak over your bottom lip. You’ve been good about swallowing everything but it seems your denied orgasm has made you forgetful. Moments later, a small thread of your own spit runs out of your mouth and onto the floor. You know that you have been dripping from the other end too, and you wonder if any of the guests have just seen you drool on yourself.

As if to answer, Hoseok comes back from behind you and grabs you by the jaw. His face lights up when he confirms that you have made a mess of yourself. He turns to one of his guests and speaks.

“See, Namjoon?” he says, tilting your head up toward his guest so that he can see, “She’s incredible.”

You meet eyes with the guest, and put on your best innocent look. You love how a blush starts to creep up into his cheeks, and how his pillowy lips part slightly. Even though you’re bound from head to toe and easily the poorest person here, you feel like you’re the most powerful person in the room. The guest clears his throat and turns his attention back to Hoseok.

“How much was your price?” he asks.

Hoseok looks down at you, and a smirk begins to form on his plush lips.

“1,000 US Dollars. Per second,” he says, “Which charity will it be, then?”

You’d been the one to come up with the idea for the proceeds from the charity fundraiser to be benefitted by getting to control the vibrator. Hoseok loved it.

“Your education charity,” he says, “and I’ll take 30 seconds.”

Hoseok nods, “Do you want to go ahead and write the check now or do you want me to keep a tab running and let you know at the end of the evening?”

The tall man considers this, and looks back at you for a moment before answering, “keep it open, will you?”

“Alright, Mr. Kim. All yours,” Hoseok says as he fishes out the device from his suit pocket before turning to you, “Be good, you hear me? Don’t come until you have been given permission by either Mr. Kim or myself. Understood?”

You nod frantically as you watch the remote being transferred from Hoseok’s hands to Namjoon’s. The earlier flustered man turned more confident once he held the little black fob in his palm - quite a large palm now that you look at it closely. It would look so nice trailing up your thigh, you think. You look up at Namjoon and convey a pleading look, one that silently asks for mercy.

He does not give it.

With a small grin, he turns on the vibrator, and you scream (or try to) at the suddenness of the sensation. He spends his entire 30 seconds with the device in your pussy at full speed, and you can’t hold back your groaning. You clench around the bullet, and when his time is up, you feel beads of sweat starting to form on your brow from the exertion. You’re left a panting mess in front of him, Hoseok, and every other guest that has turned to watch you squirm.

Namjoon’s satisfied smile and nod encourages others in the room to have a turn. Before long, you see a few more guests make their way over to where you are hanging. This time it is a group of women.

“Hye-jin!” Namjoon exclaims, before he hugs the woman and offers a short to the three others that come over with her. She’s dressed in the most beautiful black form fitting dress you’ve ever seen. Her hourglass figure sways captivatingly in the gown, and you’re momentarily mesmerized by her figure. You look up at her and she’s smirking down at you; you were too distracted at the way the large jewels on her necklace fell over her collarbones to realize that they were already discussing you.

“I should have known it would be you to break the ice,” she says playfully to Namjoon, who just presses his lips together in resignation as he puts his hand to the back of his neck.

“How’s the comeback?” he asks casually, as if there isn’t a fully naked and exposed woman suspended in front of him. His ability to be so casual while you’re at the edge of your sanity shoots a ping of arousal through your body. You shiver slightly, and you catch Hoseok looking at you out of the corner of his eyes. He’d never admit it, but he cares about you a lot. You can tell he’s checking to make sure you aren’t getting ready to start snapping your fingers- the safe action you’d both agreed on to release you from the ropes and send you into his master suite. Even when he had walked over to find Namjoon, you know even then he wasn’t out of sight or earshot from you.

He had a clean and plush robe stowed away in the closet nearby, and was always ready to release you should you want to be. You’d worked together before the event to set up a space in his suite to go should you need to retire for the evening, and you caught him setting a hoodie of his on the side of the bed where you typically sleep. You’d always playfully taken them, either to flirt or to wear it (and only it) to encourage a round two. But he had never deliberately set one of them aside for your use. He knows you won’t be using it to flirt or to rouse him into more sex, so his little efforts to bring you as much comfort as possible had set alight something in your heart.

He really did take pride in taking good care of you. As a good sugar daddy should.

You’re yanked back to reality when the vibrator starts up again. You clench around it and feel a gush of wetness surge out at the sensation of it going at full blast. Just when you become used to the speed and lower your whining, you open your eyes to see the woman holding the remote this time, grinning down at you with full lips. She meets your gaze and turns it up all the way, which makes you tense up every last one of your muscles. The woman next to her with long, light hair and a wicked gaze, whispers something to her while eyeing you up and down. It then occurs to you that you weren’t paying attention and don’t know how much time she purchased.

As the seconds tick by, they feel like hours. With the device at full speed, you feel yourself closing in on a climax, and so you squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself for the orgasm that is about to rip through your body…

She turns it down to the lowest setting and watches as you groan at the second denial crushes you. More saliva drips down your chin as she switches it off, leaving you with only the beads of sweat that cling to your skin.

“Thank you, Hoseok. Worth every penny,” Hye-jin says, handing the remote back to him.

Hoseok beams his thousand-watt smile at her, and congratulates her on both the success of Maria, her solo album, and then thanks her for her donation.

She thanks him in return, and both women walk back into the crowd. Namjoon has also gone, which just leaves you with Hoseok again. His eyes meet yours for a moment, and you see a fire in them that you’ve never seen before. You’re dangling about waist height, and you can’t help but to look down from his face to try to see if you can make out a bulge. You don’t get time to really look, because as soon as you break eye contact, he moves to your back and smacks your ass cheek hard. A loud thwack echoes throughout the large space, over the din of the partygoers. You inhale sharply at the sting, and let your breath back out in a long groan, drawing the attention of more guests. You knew that the champagne would loosen inhibitions eventually.

You hear the footsteps of a couple other guests walking toward you from behind where Hoseok stands. You crane your head to try to see over your shoulder, but they stand just out of your peripheral vision. They’re talking in low voices, and you can’t make out what they’re saying. You wish you could swing yourself around and look at them, but knowing that the only thing they can see of you is your dripping cunt, you’re not so mad.

You feel a hand on your thigh, a touch you’re familiar with. You know it’s Hoseok’s hand, as he gently trails up your inner thigh, purposefully teasing you. An involuntary shiver runs through your body and you can’t help but to whimper slightly. You hear a man’s chuckle, and then he’s speaking, again too low for you to hear.

Hoseok uses his grip on your inner thigh to spin you around so that you’re facing the group of men. Namjoon has come back, this time with what appears to be a friend in tow.

“Baby girl,” Hoseok’s voice says gently, and you look up to meet his gaze, “Yoongi here has just asked if he may touch you.” Your eyes widen at the thought, remembering how just Hoseok’s hand trailing up your thigh had your toes curling. You look up at the new guest, and see only a cold and stone-like expression. His eyes seem to bore right through you, and directly into your cunt. You’re momentarily mesmerized under his heavy stare, before you slowly nod your head.

“Yoongi here has just generously donated one million dollars to one of my charities, so do you know what that means?” he asks you, not expecting an answer, “How long is one thousand seconds?”

“Sixteen minutes and 40 seconds,” Yoongi says, not breaking eye contact from you, “If I’m correct.”

If your mouth could drop, it would. Namjoon, looking up from his phone, just nods nonchalantly.

Hoseok asks the man what he has asked everyone else: if they would like to keep a running tab or if they would like to write a check now. Yoongi reaches into his back pocket and pulls out what you assume to be his checkbook. With rings glittering in the lighting of the room, his hand swiftly fills it out. He rips it out and extends it to Hoseok.

“I won’t be needing more time.”

His cool confidence in saying this small phrase makes your stomach drop.

Hoseok grips your chin and tilts your head up. “Remember, baby girl, don’t come until you’re told to. You want to be on your best behavior for Mr. Min. Trust me.”

He speaks sternly and then releases your jaw, trailing his hand back to stroke your messy hair, before settling on your two hands secured behind your back and giving them a light squeeze. A silent reminder of your out, should you need it.

This Yoongi must be… a force to be reckoned with.

“Your time starts now,” Hoseok says, tapping his phone screen. You squeeze shut your eyes and brace yourself for the abrupt shock of the vibrations, but seconds pass, and they don’t come. You gingerly open your eyes and look up at the man standing above you, toying with the remote. He regards it with vague interest, and then he flicks up his eyes to look at you. Your heart stops for a moment, as he begins to rake his onyx eyes over your body. He purses his lips slightly and begins walking around you, all too slowly.

Even though he has disappeared from your view, you can feel his eyes on you. Your anxiousness grows as he remains out of your sight longer, and this is no doubt intentional. It seems as if he picked up your unease earlier when he first approached.

This guy is good.

You’re so on edge, that the light vibrations that begin in your cunt still surprise you. He turned the vibrator on to its lowest setting, but these low and slow vibrations still make you have a sharp intake of breath. He finally arrives back to your front and seems pleased at your reaction. He squats down so that his face is level with yours.

“What a good girl you are,” he muses, lips parted, tongue playing with the inside of his cheek, “I hope Hoseok here treats you well. You seem… pent up.”

At those last two words, he revs up the vibrations slightly, causing you to let out a small moan. He stands and puts the remote in his pocket. You watch as he gently rolls up his sleeves to the elbow, his forearm flexing as he fixes them. Your hungry stare betrays you.

“Is she always like this?” he asks Hoseok, almost laughing at you. “God, she’s desperate.” He looks at you. “Does Hobi not fuck you enough, little girl?”

Your eyes widen at the implications, and you furiously shake your head no, trying to convey as much as you can with your eyes alone. He just chuckles.

“Loyal,” he says, “I like that.” He looks back up at Hoseok. “Is your agreement exclusive, or is there room in her life for a second... benefactor?” You look up at your sugar daddy, eyes wide with what he might say. He’s just standing there, arms folded over his chest, as if he were discussing the weather or the stock market.

“I’m afraid she’s all booked up for the foreseeable future, unfortunately,” he says cooly but firmly, a little bit of edge to his voice.

“Pity,” Yoongi says, taking a step toward you, “I could think of a million good ways to take up her time.”

“You’ve got 14 minutes left,” is all Hoseok says in response, a definite sharpness to his tone. You’ve only heard this type of voice from him when you’re being particularly bratty. You rarely hear him this stern.

The vibrations quicken slightly, and you can tell from your frequent use that the device is at about its medium speed.

Yoongi takes his hand and reaches out to your back, and with a featherlight touch, begins to trace next to where the ropes lie. He keeps working down your back, and gently trails down your bare ass cheek and ghosts against your pussy. You can feel the heat from his hand, impossibly close to touching you. You hold your head back and try to look at him as you whine out a plea.

“Eyes straight ahead, little girl,” he says, and you comply reluctantly, flopping your head forward dramatically as you sigh. His hand grabs hold of your thigh, and squeezes it so hard you’re sure you’ll find a bruise there in the morning. “And lose the attitude.”

You whimper as he releases your thigh, and goes back to delicately running his fingertips up to your core. He stops just short of your cunt, and you desperately want him to just touch you. You flex your back and buck your hips in order to push yourself onto where you know his hand is. Your clit makes contact with his hand, and as soon as you feel it connect, you feel it missing. Not even a moment later, a sharp sting spreads across your ass, and you clench around the vibe.

“What a greedy little slut you are. Do you always misbehave this much?”

You turn your head back to look at him, and as you meet his eyes, you can see he begins to fume.

“Namjoon, keep her head straight. Someone's not listening.”

You turn your head back around and Namjoon is quickly grabbing your jaw firmly in his hand. Your eyes meet his, and his earlier show of no mercy seems to still be intact. You feel Yoongi’s hand soothe the soreness he just created, only to once again reel back and give the same spot another firm smack, just as hard as the first one.

You cry into the ball gag and the shockwave from his hit sends you slightly swinging forward into Namjoon’s belt. Even though the vibrator is only at medium speed, you feel yourself beginning to get close to a climax. Your moans get longer and higher, and your body tenses to prepare for it. You hear Yoongi behind you.

“Don’t.”

You know exactly what he means. You focus on your breathing and furrow your brow in an attempt to stave off your orgasm. It’s working, but barely. He turns up the vibrations and you cry out again, your head shaking as much as Namjoon’s firm grip will allow.

“Don’t.”

You distance yourself from the situation, distracting yourself with thinking about schoolwork. The essay you’re currently writing. How the rough draft needs to be done by tomorrow night. You need three more in-text citations to make --

His hand is against your clit, and he’s rubbing at an agonizingly slow pace, with just enough pressure for you to want more. You inhale sharply and work harder to distract yourself.

You have two of the quotes picked out, but you need to finalize the third one to really hammer in your point. Maybe you can spend tomorrow morning reading --

His lips graze over the ass cheek he tortured earlier, your smarting skin responding sharply to the gentle contact. He gives you a soft kiss, and then you feel a sharp pain as he sinks his teeth into your already ruined ass.

Your eyes fly open and you make desperate eye contact with Namjoon, trying to show him that you can’t last much longer. Thankfully, this Namjoon is a perceptive man, and he looks from you to Yoongi.

“She can’t take much more, Yoongi.”

“Good,” he says, breath grazing over where he just bit as he speaks. “Come, slut.”

For the first time tonight, your orgasm peaks and rips out of you. Your whole body trembles with the sensation, and you feel his pressure on your clit increase to see you through. The orgasm is hard, and long, and it leaves you with tears streaming down your cheeks, mascara running wildly. You’re coming down slowly, and you feel his hand pull away. Before you realize it, he is standing in front of you again. Namjoon releases you, and your head hangs lifelessly as you pant.

Yoongi stands directly in front of you again, and you find yourself staring at his expensive shoes. You’re completely spent. Post orgasm bliss spreads throughout your muscles, and then, a slight discomfort. You realize what it is: the vibrator is still going.

You squirm lazily and whine at the sensation, it being too much. Yoongi squats down and gently lifts up your head by the chin. Your exhausted eyes meet his, and he clicks his tongue.

“Aw, are you all sensitive now?” he asks gently, in an almost patronizing tone. You don’t care. You nod sleepily.

“Is the vibrator too much, little girl?” You nod once more, eyes fluttering shut.

“Then use your safeword gesture,” he says, almost as if it’s a dare. "Go on. Snap."

If he’s not done with you, then you’re not done. You open your eyes and look directly at him as if to say “challenged accepted.”

Without moving his eyes from yours, he cranks up the vibrations until you’re whimpering again.

“Six more minutes,” you hear Hoseok say from beside you.

“Plenty of time,” Yoongi replies without skipping a beat. “I think we can get three more in. One every two minutes? Surely a slut like you will have no problem with that, since you wanted to come so badly earlier.”

You groan at the ache in your cunt, and at the slight displeasure the vibrator is causing. Yoongi stands again and walks back behind you, and this time you know better than to move your head to look.

Soon the vibrations begin to feel pleasurable again, and you’re having a hard time keeping your moans quiet.

“Atta girl,” you hear Yoongi say from behind you, “Your next one’s already coming isn’t it? You greedy little thing. You’re going to ruin Hoseok’s nice floors with your slick. And in front of all these people?”

Just like that, you’re reminded that you have an audience. Quite a large one. You open your eyes to see just about every guest’s gaze glued to your straining form. The heat bubbles in your abdomen as your next climax rushes toward you.

“You may come again,” is all Yoongi says as you’re thrown off the edge again. As soon as you begin to recover from this one, he ups the vibrator to full speed. You scream into the ball gag at the overstimulation, and cry out as tears spill out of your eyes. It’s entirely too much, but you love it. Before you realize it, another orgasm rips through your body, almost as if it were a continuation of the last one.

He doesn’t miss this though, and spreads your ass cheeks apart so he can get a better view. At this point, you’re not sure if you can do another one. You feel as though you might pass out if you come again. But the overstimulation is so overwhelming that you can only think of reaching one more high. You tense your entire body and try to get another one, but your muscles are so spent that you can’t stay tense for long. After a few more tries, you just sigh and hang limply, your limbs heavy and tired. You hang on the edge of climax, being able to see the other side, but not being able to go there.

Mascara tears stain your cheeks from exertion, and you are well and truly spent. You give up.

But you don’t snap your fingers.

Yoongi fastens his lips over your aching clit, and sucks. Just like that, you feel your orgasm building again so you clench, desperately trying to claim it; this time, you reach it.

It tears through you like a slow strike of lightning. You feel yourself shaking as it takes its time fracturing within you. It grows white hot in your belly, and it’s as if every cell in your body has been burned alive. All of the energy you have left is spent thrashing in the ecstasy of your orgasm, and for a few seconds, you know nothing else but the pleasure.

You find yourself deep in subspace, practically dead to the world. You don’t even have the energy to open your eyes. You barely register Hoseok as he begins untying the ropes around your hands, getting assistance from both Namjoon and Yoongi. You feel his hands as he releases your ball gag and caresses your face as he asks if you’re okay. You give the tiniest nod, and he wraps your limp form tightly in his arms as the two men finish unwrapping your legs. He swoops down and sweeps your legs up to carry you bridal style away from the party.

The next thing you know is the soft and cool silk of his sheets enveloping you as he lays you down. You exist there for a time, every nerve ending in your body tingling as you drift off.

You wake some time later to hear quiet chatting. You inhale and breathe in the musky scent of Hoseok’s favorite cologne. You find yourself curled around the hoodie he left for you. As you slowly open your eyes, you can just make out the time on the nightstand clock. It’s almost 3 AM; the fundraiser had to have ended over four hours ago. You breathe slowly and close your eyes again so you can focus on the voices in the room.

You hear Hoseok straight away; his tone is forever instantly familiar to you. The way his normal speaking rhythm is a little sloppy with alcohol. In reply is a voice you more recently became acquainted with. The voice who you last heard giving you permission to come. It’s a little bit more rough now, a Daegu accent slipping out in his intoxication. The third one takes you by surprise. A low and calm voice. Lower than you’d ever suspected possible, from hearing him speak this evening. Even still, Namjoon’s even tone is a rumble you can make out.

You sit up slowly, not wanting the blood to rush to your head. You were sleeping hard. Your dry mouth guarantees that. At your movement, the three men stop their talking and look over at you. Hoseok is the first to set down his glass and walk over to you. His black tie is gone and so is his jacket. His collar is wide open, showing off his tanned chest behind the many unfastened buttons. He gets on his knees next to the bed and reaches for your hands. Once he finds them, his brow is creased with worry, as he brings your hands up to his lips.

“Are you alright, baby girl?” he asks into your hands. You still have the weight of sleep over you, so you don’t respond right away.

“She had her gesture, Hoseok. She could have used it,” you hear Yoongi say, and you look in his direction. He sits with his legs spread, glass of whiskey hanging off of his fingers. Your eyes meet, and even though he’s trying to seem impertinent and uncaring, there’s a tinge of worry and guilt in his eyes. You glance to Namjoon and see that his worry is more plainly stated.

Hoseok caresses your cheek and turns you back to facing him. His eyes plead for an answer. So you give it.

“Yes,” you say, voice raspy, “I’m alright. I feel great, actually.” Hoseok visibly relaxes and you hear Yoongi across the room mutter an “I told you so” to Namjoon.

“He didn’t push you too hard?” Hoseok asks.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” you reply smugly, meeting Yoongi’s eyes, “But he did well and truly wear me out... Clearly."

You chuckle as Hoseok covers your hands in a million tiny kisses.

“Perhaps I do need to step my game up,” he teases, “I’ve never seen you so fucked out.”

“Nothing a good nap can’t fix,” you tease back. He smiles up at you, and you once again get lost in his brightness and warmth. “Mind if I join you all for a drink?”

“Of course not, baby girl,” Hoseok says, “I’ll go get your robe--”

“Don’t bother,” you say, wiggling into his hoodie and pulling the hood up and over your hair, “but you can go get me a glass.”

#bts smut #hoseok smut #yoongi smut #namjoon smut #yoongi x you #hoseok x you #namjoon x you #xmint-conditionx

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