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callsign-datura · 3 months ago

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CW: pet names, oral (fem! receiving), spelling his name on the clit "c'mon pretty girl, open up f'me," simon murmurs, his lips and peachfuzz scraping against the soft skin of your thigh, up to your knee as his hands roam up and down your legs. brown eyes focus on you as you keep your legs pinned together, an embarrassed whine leaving your throat as you tilt your head to the side.

"si, you don't have to," you said quietly, looking down at him with your big doe eyes as you reach out to cup his face. he leans into it, his eyebrows knit and the corner of his mouth quirks.

"why not, sweetheart?" simon was a man of few words, but the look in his eyes was enough to make you shrink underneath it. his looming frame rises and he stands, but you keep your legs together still as he rests his hands on your knees. his size always sends your heart aflutter, but now it was beating so rapidly in embarrassment.

"i-i haven't shaved. i didn't bother once you left, so..." it's been months since he left. he came home out of nowhere, his big bulky frame caging you against the wall before wrestling you onto the bed, prime and ready show you how much he missed you. your pretty pussy was all he could think about for the days leading up to his return, and now you were denying him because you hadn't shaved? he knew you wanted him as bad as he wanted you. he felt insulted.

"hah, love," he begins, a small amused smile curling his lips as he tries easing your legs apart again. "i've been gone f' months... thinkin' 'bout you, an' that pussy of yours, and y'think i give a shit 'bout hair now that i've finally got ya where i want ya?" he cocks his head to the side, overgrown blonde hair tickling his brow as your legs finally release and fall apart, his hands going down to grip the waistband of your panties, snapping the elastic against your flesh to watch you jump before he sinks back down to his knees.

he chuckles as your face reddens and you swallow, your head falling back to avoid looking him in the eyes when you feel his lips against your inner thigh. "c'mon now. y'know me better than that, sweetheart," his lips part and he bites down gently, smirking against your flesh when you jolt again. "much, much fuckin' better than that," he chuckles in amusement as he speaks, trailing his kisses down your inner thigh and peppering soft kisses and lovebites along the fat of your thigh before stopping just shy of your pussy. "pretty little thing, aren't ya? shaved or unshaved, i'll devour ya all the same," he whispers, his voice low but carrying enough intent to make your walls flutter on nothing. he moves a hand between your legs, using his thumb to spread your lips just enough to give him direct access to your clit, planting his mouth there as his lips curl and his hot tongue darts out to lave over you.

his tongue moves in hot, slow circles, your legs twitching at the content as you squeal and writhe pathetically. the contact after so long is almost too much for your body. one of your hands plants itself on his head and runs through the untidy locks, pulling gently to guide him closer. smugly, he obliges, but not before he lets loose a grunt and a teasing, "needy girl." before closing his lips around your clit and sucks gently, applying pressure against it with the tip of his tongue at the same time as his hands cup your outer thighs.

he releases your clit with a faint 'pop', his tongue sliding out and flattening against you, dragging upward from your hole to your clit, laving once again as the mix of your slick and his spit drip down onto the mattress beneath you, leaving a mess that's only likely to grow as time goes on. "mm. missed this fuckin' pussy," he grunts, his raspy voice making your clit twitch and the heat of his breath fanning over you. you whine in response, lifting your hips, seeking more friction. you sniffle quietly beneath him, lifting your head to look at him as his gaze flickers over your body before he sinks down again. he moves a hand between your legs and rolls his middle and pointer finger against your pussy, gathering his spit and your slick before he carefully pushes them inside as he starts lapping at your clit again. your needy pussy sucks his fingers in, and instinctively, he curls them, searching for a few moments before the pads find your g-spot. the sudden pleasure makes you jolt and your toes curl as you push your legs apart and rest your heels on the edge of the bed, lewd mewls leaving your lips as he grunts into your pussy. he doesn't thrust his fingers, just rubs them against your g-spot as he laps hungrily at your clit-- like a man starved. which he was. months left without the taste, feel, scent of your precious pussy left him hungry. he shifted as he kneeled, his hardening cock in his pants making the fabric strain against him, quickly becoming uncomfortable as he continues to eat you out. he doesn't care though, your pleasure in this moment matters more to him than that.

each mewl, whine and cry that leaves your lips makes his dick twitch. he has to stifle a whine of his own. his eyes flutter open, looking up at you to find bright, eager eyes staring down at him. your mouth is open, lips quivering and red from how consistently you bit them to keep quiet. eyes dilated and wide, rolling back once he starts rolling his fingers into you.

he chuckles quietly into you, shutting his eyes again to savor the taste and squeeze of your pussy. he can feel you getting close, so he continues-- a bit faster than before. the noises of your pussy are loud, lewd and embarrassing, but his grunts are louder. you whimper pathetically as the coil in your stomach tightens and the heat falls over you. his hand is planted firmly at the curve of your hip, gripping tightly to keep you in pace as he licks hungrily at your clit, alternating between lapping and circles.

as your squirming becomes more frequent, you feel his laps become a bit more erratic. through your hazy mind you don't connect the dots yet, too distracted by the incoming pressure of your orgasm. your hips lifted and you cried out. "s-si, please! gonna cum... m'close..." and he only chuckled into your pussy, mumbling a "cum f'me sweetheart, know you can. give it to me." then he starts the pace again. you realize then after his licks become more defined, that he's using his tongue to spell his name on your clit. the thought makes you gasp, the sound low in your chest as he suddenly applies a bit more force as he thrusts his fingers into you, purposefully angling them to hit your g-spot with the tips of his fingers over and over and over again. you wail his name and your walls clench, the warmth flooding you as that coil snaps. he groans deeply into your pussy, helping you ride through it as you reach your peak. it lasts a few seconds, and you mewl and whine pathetically, fingers tugging at his hair as he continues, helping you down from your orgasm with slow licks. he withdraws his fingers from you shortly after his tongue halts, and your hands come to your face as he rises between your legs and leans over you. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, shushing you softly as his hands run up and down your sides. Your arms thread around his neck and you mumble to him. "...were you spelling your name on my clit?" a pause. his rubs stop, and he hums quietly in amusement. "maybe. 've gotta make sure you know what name to moan. seems like it worked..."

you can hear and feel the smirk on his face, and you scowl playfully, hiding your red face in your hands as he laughs into your neck. yeah, it worked. and now he was gonna continue doing it.

#simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw3 #simon ghost riley x reader #callsign datura

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evilgwrl · 1 month ago

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I'll suck your dick for a long breeding kink Simon story (ily) 👉🏻👈🏻

i ❤️ breeding kinks and u anon

CW: BREEDING KINK, titty sucking, PIV (No protection, pls use this irl), oral sex (f receiving), praise, slight daddy kink?, cream pie, lactation kink kinda, orgasms yippee

There was something primal inside of Simon, an urge that simmered through him like magma, coiling into every vein and muscle with a need to be filled. It consumed him wholly, wracking his brain with images and thoughts.

Images and thoughts of you, full and round with his seed, his child.

Simon never knew he wanted a family, always content with the one he met on the field. That was until he met you. You were a ray of light, always cheery and smiling, so feminine and beautiful. He needed you, and that was enough, but he wanted more.

He had never approached it with you before, but he was always so careful in case it scared you away. It all began when you were waiting in line at the supermarket, a newborn straddled to his mother’s hips as it cooed at you, slobber dribbling down its mouth as its eyes crinkled with laughter. You were so quick to smile back, waving with glee as you pulled funny faces, a chorus of laughter soon following from the little one.

It only got worse when you were on your period, raving on about how you sometimes wanted to be pregnant just to get rid of it temporarily.

But Simon believes it really struck him when you were fresh out of the shower, pushing your belly out for fun to look as though you were expecting. You turned to him with cheery eyes and simply asked, “Do you think I would look good pregnant?”

Now, it was all the Lieutenant could think of.

You were a doll, always rushing around for him after he returned home, begging him to relax as you tended to his needs. You would be such a good mother.

“You want me to run you a bath? Give you a massage?” You murmured, rubbing his shoulders as you sat on his lap, thick hands rubbing at your thighs.

Simon groaned in a pleasured tone, nodding, “Only if you join me, sweet’art.”

The bathroom was thick with lavender, small rocks of decedent salts melting in the heated water, clouds of steam fogging up the mirrors as the fan overworked. Your body moulded to his as the bath swished around you, gently rocking against your upper back as your hands wrapped around his shoulders.

Calloused hands rubbed at your hips, kneading the flesh delicately as he rested his head into the crook of your neck, nuzzling into your scent with a deep sniff.

“Ain’ I the luckiest man alive to have someone like you, you’re always so good to me,” Simon mumbled, voice slightly muffled by his lips pressed against your skin.

Your hands found the back of his neck, pulling him away from you with a smile as you kissed him, “I missed you, Si.”

“I missed you too. And these,” he snorted, groping at your tits as you giggled, working your fingers through his hair.

His cock grazed against your pussy, nudging your slit as you adjusted on top of him, lifting yourself slightly as he brought a breast to his mouth. His teeth grazed against the fat enjoying the way your breath hicked as his tongue swiped your hardened nipple, your fingers gripping into his shoulder with a profound tightness.

Simon was quick to work his palm against the other, enjoying your subtle moans as he tugged at the nipple, drawing the other one into his mouth with a harsh suck. You were so complicit to him, rocking your hips as you ground against his aching cock.

The man was practically slurring against your tits, switching between nipples as he kneaded the flesh. His voice was quiet as he breathed against your skin, barely audible, “Need to fill these up with milk, makes me go crazy thinking about how sweet you would taste.”

Your ears were hazed over with arousal as you only grumbled out a ‘huh’ immediately melting as he began to lick at your chest again. Your breasts were covered in spit, nipples erect and sore as you whined into the steamy air.

Simon’s hands were heavy as he pulled away from you, tugging you into the air with ease as water dripped along the floor, leading a trail to your bed before you were plopped down, wet body squealing against the sheets. He was quick to spread your thighs, lapping in the way your pussy throbbed as he tickled you with kisses, peppering over stretch marks.

Two fingers were quick to spread you open, folds sticky with your slick before the hotness of his mouth sealed it with a layer of spit, suckling at your sensitive clit as Simon growled against your cunt. Your mouth was tingling with cries, prickles of pleasure settling against a sheer layer of sweat that soaked your skin.

Your body was entranced by his tongue, writhing every-time he focused on your nub, your own hands playing with your tits as you rocked against his wet muscle. “F-Fuck Si- just like that-“

You were so needy, so desperate for release as he worked against your movements, thighs closing around his head as he muffled sweet moans into your flesh.

“Tastes so fucking good,” he slurred, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he nestled in closer to your pussy. His cock was leaky with anticipation, moist with pre-cum, edging him closer and closer the more noise you made.

Your orgasm was fast, hitting you with ease as your back arched, thighs shaking as you came with a squeal. His tongue was rapid, licking at your juices like a madman as you moaned, attempting to push his relentless attack away.

Simon pulled away, chin drenched in both spit and arousal as he licked his lips, staring at you with unmistakable hunger. He was quick to work your legs open again, heavy cock hanging low as he tugged at it, pressing the angry tip against your clit.

“Need to fuck you, doll,” he spat, rubbing his pre into your squelching folds as you nodded. No matter how many times you took him, the burn always ached through you, working into your muscles as it coiled into a hot pit in your stomach.

His grunt was loud as he bottomed out, resting in the warmth of your pussy as you stared up at him with tear-streaked eyes, your mouth stuck in an ‘o’ shape. You were so full, cock rubbing against your gummy walls with every slight movement, already kissing your neglected cervix.

“Please move- please-“

He obeyed, pulling out before rocking back into you with a quick thrust. Simon moved your legs, holding them over his shoulder as he pounded into you with a relentless force, giddy on your fucked-out expressions, incoherent blurts leaving your pouty lips.

“Take me so fucking good baby, make me never want to leave. Need to cum in this fucking pussy.”

You clenched. Hard.

Simon paused slightly, staring down at your squinted eyes, hands rubbing at your pillowy tits before you relaxed again.

“You want me to cum in you? Fuck a baby into this pretty cunt, hm?”

You babbled out a yes, tugging at your tender nipples as he growled into the air. His pace was brutal now, desperate for release as you milked around his length, pants leaving your mouth in shallow breaths.

“Gonna look so fucking sexy pregnant- all full with my child. Gonna make me a Daddy? Gonna fuck you until it sticks. That’s it baby - keep sucking me in, just like that.”

Simon was feral, grunting into the air as he fucked his cock into your wailing mound, slick stringing down his full balls. Your screams were loud as your head tilted to the side, tongue lapping from your mouth as you mewled in the pleasure.

“You’re gonna be such a good mommy, aren’t you sweet’art? So fucking good- so fucking tight. Just need to breed this perfect pussy. All fucking mine.”

“Y-Yours, Simon. Please fill me up,” you said, voice cracking as you gripped onto his neck, pulling him flush against you into a mating press. Delicate fingers found your clit as you rubbed the wet bead, moaning against his mouth as he kissed you, an endless supply of adrenaline pumping through his body.

“You gonna give me as many kids as I want? Gonna keep you pregnant, so full and round with my babies. My perfect fucking girl.”

Your breath wedged in your throats as the coil grew in your stomach, sloppy motions rubbed against your clit as Simon fucked against your sweet spot.

“Milk my fucking cock, baby, that’s it- cum for Daddy.”

His words sent you into overdrive, your eyes rolling back as your noises halted, stuck in your oesophagus as your lungs jolted full of air. Simon was quick to follow, your clenches wrapping around his shaft as he came with a groan, hot spurts of come coating your walls as he gripped onto your neck.

The Lieutenant was reluctant to pull out, desperate to keep his seed inside of you, buried at the hilt. You whined at the loss of contact, thick cock leaving your aching mound with a huff as Simon rushed to the bathroom.

You melted into the sheets, gently stirring as he wiped your face and neck with a cool compress.

“Did so well for me,” he praised, rubbing at your cheek affectionately. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his wrist.

Thick loads leaked from your exposed cunt, a hiss leaving Simon’s throat before two fingers pushed his work back in.

This man meant what he said, he wasn’t stopping until it stuck. Until you were pregnant and forever his.

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sunsetsimon · 3 months ago

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blue collar simon ♡ because i'm going insane

pt 2 here

☼ he's waking up around 4:30am most days, due to starting at a new job site that gives him a longer commute. he's grumbly when his alarm blares, quickly turning it off and sitting on the edge of the bed for a minute to stare off and come to. his footsteps are quiet as he heads to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and giving his face a rinse to clear it from sleep. simon makes sure to keep his hair short, only needing to run his fingers through it to tame a few wild pieces that stick up on the side.

☼ most mornings you get up with him, his alarm waking you up even with as quickly as he turns it off. "go back t'sleep love," he leans over, cupping your cheek lovingly as you try to blink the sleep out of your eyes.

"gonna pack your lunch si," you say, so quietly he almost doesn't hear you. he knows better than to argue though, you're already up and nothing is better than having you help him get ready for his long day.

you slip on one of his hoodies on your way downstairs, practically swimming in the fabric as it rests on your mid thighs, hands covered in the long sleeves. his heart swells, you look so cute when you're tired and stubborn, refusing to let him leave without a proper lunch.

☼ he's not able to talk much throughout the day with how busy he is. sometimes you only get a quick 2 minute call while he's scarfing down his lunch, complaining about how their project manager was being a dick that day.

"'right babe. gettin' back to it so i'll call you when i'm leaving, whenever the fuck that'll be."

"okay si. i love you, be careful."

"always am. love you."

sometimes you get lucky with a random picture of something on the site, having no idea what it is you can only respond with a "what am i looking at?"

"fuckin' dumbass rookie can't mark out a straight line to save his fuckin' life."

whatever the hell that means. simon thinks it's funny though.

☼ comes home with new cuts and bruises everyday, the wrap on one of his fingers soaked with dirt and blood. his hands are cut up and scarred, calloused and rough to the touch but you still love them, those hands provide everything for you. you're constantly having to remind him to clean under his nails after a long day though, refusing to be touched until they're squeaky clean.

☼ he never gets home at the same time, a supposed-to-be 10 hour shift can quickly turn into a 12 or 13 depending on how much work needs to be done. not a week goes by when he doesn't have overtime, and though he makes a lot of money, he's fucking exhausted when he gets home. lazily unlacing and kicking his boots off at the door while coming in, practically with a limp, his knees and feet fighting to not give out from pure exhaustion.

still finds the energy to shove his dirty hands under your shirt though when he catches you at the stove preparing him a plate. his unkempt stubble scratches your neck as he inhales your clean, addicting scent. planting soft kisses along the skin, you almost melt into him until you smell him, dust and sweat clouding your nose.

"ugh simon! you can't be all over me while you're dirty," you whine, trying to pull away from his tightening grip on your hips.

"can't help it when y'look so damn good. missed you all day," he grumbles, pulling your ass back against his growing bulge in his work pants, thrusting against you through layers of clothing.

"eat and take a shower first, then we can talk," you give him another shove - much to his dismay. apparently he wasn't as tired as he thought.

#cod x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #blue collar!simon #sun's ☀️

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tojisun · 5 months ago

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something about best friend simon not knowing any boundaries (or, deliberately bulldozing through boundaries)—

the way he’s the one who picks you up in the airport even though you and your boyfriend already made arrangements for the pick up, but simon just says he offered to take over because your parents needed help setting things up in their lake house and that your boyfriend offered to help them.

(simon made him offer to help. it’s hidden so well behind honest concern that your boyfriend didn’t notice that simon’s been pushing him into the role until simon's calling out his goodbye's, saying he's off to pick you up now.

"oh, i can-"

"don't sweat it, mate," simon replies with a pinched smile. "i'll drive carefully, promise. bring her back, all safe and lovely.")

you didn’t even know simon’s invited to the vacation, but you gladly murmured to him your thanks, too caught up in your exhaustion to notice the little mean grin that tugged his lips up.

you clamber to his rover messily, blinking slowly, and before you can reach over to buckle your seatbelt, simon leans over and does it for you.

"could've done it myself, y'know?" you whine.

"sure you can," he grunts as he pulls himself back to his seat. "not like y'were one blown wind away from keeling over, but sure."

you roll your eyes at him playfully before biting a giggle when he scrunches his nose at you in reply.

he takes the long route back.

"want anythin' to eat?" simon asks after a while.

"don't we—" you pause, yawning. "need to hurry back?"

"not really," he replies, eyes flicking to the side mirror before he rounds a sharp curve. your body jostles, falling to the side, slipping towards the gear, and simon's hand falls to your lap to steady you.

he doesn't remove it even when the road straightens.

"okay," you finally reply, tired eyes blinking at the size of his hand on your leg. "m'kinda hungry."

he huffs a fond laugh and says he knows a place close by.

it's a local burger joint, apparently known for their fries and milkshake. simon buys you one.

"aww," you croon, grabby hands pulling the cold cup closer to you. "thank you, si."

you two eat in his rover, too lazy to actually settle in the diner.

it's greasy and messy and delicious. simon says you look filthy, before reaching over to wipe the stray milkshake on the corner of your lips. you poke your tongue out to him in reply; he says to swallow that back in before he yanks it out.

you laugh, chucking a balled-up napkin towards him before jumping out of his SUV to run to the bathroom.

(you didn't notice the throngs of messages coming in from your boyfriend nor the way simon swiped your phone from your back pocket and kept it.

he remembers your passcode—still unchanged even after all these years—and reads the messages that your boyfriend sent.

he's asking if you've landed or if you and simon are on your way back. he says he also misses you dearly, and that he can't wait to finally be with you again.

simon deletes them all.)

the two of you return when it’s well into the night, and everyone's gone to sleep. you sigh, feeling the exhaustion hitting you harder now, and amble to your room where you know your boyfriend must be waiting for you, only to stop when simon holds your arm.

"wanna sleep with me?"

"what," you begin, turning your sleepy eyes up at him. "no that's alright. my boyfriend's—"

"asleep, already. probably got ordered 'round by your pa, huh?" he smiles, his thumb swiping along the side of your forearm. "y'might wake up the poor lad if you go there so why don't you sleep in my room just for tonight?"

simon's words wash over you and you know, somehow, there's something wrong with them, with him, but your mind is bogged down by your drowsiness. you can't rationalize what's going on, so you say yes.

that's all simon needed to pull you to his room and into his bed.

you slip out of your clothes, per simon's instructions—his words all muffled as you try to stay up awake—and slip into something loose and baggy—stretched in its overuse but so comfortable on your skin.

it's simon's shirt, you'll learn tomorrow, but for now, you drop to the bed, your eyes shut close, and fall in deep sleep.

the last thing you feel is the heavy dip on the mattress behind you before a thick arm is thrown over your side, pressing into the fat of your stomach to push you back and into simon's front.

limbs lay tangled together, breaths shared, and the summer heat buzzing as skin meets skin.

simon doesn't get any better after that. he gets so clingy, and intrudes in your space and forces your boyfriend out.

your boyfriend complained, of course he did, but what could you do? what could you say? simon's your childhood friend so there's nothing malicious between you two. there's nothing more into it.

he gave up fighting then, fists tucked close to his sides as you kissed his jaw and told him to trust you on your words.

but—

how can he calm down? how can he not burn in anger when he sees the way simon pulls you to his lap and you readily nuzzle close. granted it's all because the two of you are watching some game on your phone and the position must be the only way to watch it comfortably, whatever, but it rubs him so wrong how familiar you and simon fall into each other.

how can he not doubt your words when he catches simon's eyes narrowed at him in quiet delight, before deliberately curling his arm around your stomach, and throws the other one on your lap, so dangerously close to your crotch.

it's even worse when the family gathers to the lake, and you and simon are chasing each other, playfighting in front of everyone. simon picks you up with ease, big hands digging into the fat of your belly or your thighs or gripping your ass like simon's so intimately familiar with your body.

how can he not hate himself a little bit when he realizes that it was always you and simon. that that's the dynamic.

(and if simon successfully seduces you during this vacation, well—)

ext

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #suns #f!reader #q

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witchesverse · 1 month ago

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ouija board. (kinktober)

pairing: demon!wandanat x fem!reader

summary: after playing with an ouija board and forgetting to say goodbye, you let two horny demons into the world of living.

content: noncon, slight daddy kink, pussy eating, fingering, summoning demons with an ouija board, possibility scary descriptions of the demons ??, dom!wandanat, sub!reader implying kidnapping.

masterlist

You laughed as Kate, with a big grin, revealed the hidden Oujia board and candles from her backpack. You sat across from each other and she placed the board and candles in the middle.

"You cannot be serious, Kate." You said with a laugh.

"I was promised by the guy that we can actually summon things!" She explained for what felt like the millionth time.

You sighed, "Fine."

The candles were lit around the board and you both had your fingers on the pointer. You didn't believe in supernatural things, but Kate was obsessed with them. Ouija boards were a joke.

"Okay, ask now."

You wanted to argue that this wasn't real, but Kate looked so excited and you couldn't ruin that.

"How many spirits are here?"

There was nothing for a few moments, then, the pointer moved to the numbers.

"Kate, you so just moved that."

"I swear I didn't!" She whined, "Ask again."

You rolled your eyes, not believing her.

"Who is here?"

It moved again.

D. A. D. D. Y.

"Daddy?" You laughed, "This spirit is a freak."

Kate urged you to continue asking.

"Where are you?"

B. E. H. I. N. D. Y. O. U.

You felt a chill run down your spine and glanced over your shoulder, seeing nothing. You cleared your throat and prepared to ask another question but Kate's phone rang.

"Shit. It's my mom, she knows I snuck out." Kate declined the call and stood, "I'll see you next weekend?"

You nodded, "Yeah, see you then."

At 3AM, you woke to the sound of your phone pinging with notifications.

katie <3: fuck. y/n did you say goodbye to the ouija board?

you: no?

katie <3: fuck fuck. dude, ur meant to say goodbye so you can close the door and stop spirits from entering the world of living.

you: sure kate. goodnight.

You switched your phone off and rolled over, wanting to get some sleep. In the corner of your eye, you noticed something in the corner of your room. It looked to be some type of human figure but deformed in a way you couldn't describe. Your window and door were closed, yet you felt a gush of cold air flow over you and shivered.

Your heart began to pound and your skin crawled with discomfort.

Another figure appeared in the corner of your room.

Kate is playing a stupid prank on me.

You sat up and reached for your light switch but your wrist was grabbed and long, cold fingers wrapped around your throat, squeezing slightly.

Your eyes widened and a whimper left your throat.

Minus the large horns, razor-sharp teeth, skin that appeared to be shattered, freezing cold skin, and dark black blood oozing from the body; it looked human.

"What the fuck are you?" You screamed.

The creature attempted to smile. It looked unnatural and made you feel sick to the stomach.

"Shouldn't have left the door open. You let daddy right in" It, no she, spat.

Your eyes widened. Kate wasn't joking about the Ouija board and leaving the door open. You had let two spirits into your home.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"God, do mortals ever shut up?" Another female voice spoke with a thicker accent.

The hands around your throat were removed, and the new spirit caressed your face with the back of her hand. She looked similar to the other spirit.

"What are you?" You questioned, voice shaking.

"Demons, sweetheart." She swiftly replied "Hurry up, Natasha. I don't want to be here much longer."

Natasha, the first demon, ripped your blanket off your body. You cried out as she did the same to your clothes. You tried to crawl away from Natasha but she grabbed onto your hips and pinned you down.

"Go on, Wanda." Her tone was teasing "I know you want and miss it."

Wanda barred her teeth at Natasha, making your heart drop. It was a terrifying sight.

You tried to fight Natasha's hold, but she easily overpowered you and manhandled you until you were lying on your back and bare. She wrapped her arms around your thighs to keep them open and settled between them.

"Fuck you." Wanda hissed, sending Natasha a glare.

Natasha snarled and dug her fingernails into your thigh, making you whimper. You didn't understand their feud, but it seemed somewhat playful.

Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest as she squeezed your cheeks, forcing your tongue out and sat on your face. She rocked her hips back and forth, sighing in contentment as the pleasure spread across her body.

"That's it, baby," Natasha muttered, watching Wanda intently.

It was strange, but you didn't want to fight back. Your clit was throbbing and your skin felt hot. Your brain felt hazy and you struggled to form a thought that wasn't about pleasure.

You wrapped your arms around Wanda's thighs and pulled her closer. You alternated between lapping at her dripping cunt and sucking her clit.

Natasha slipped two fingers inside of you and kitten-licked at your clit. Her fingers felt like they were made for your pussy. Your walls clenched around her and you mewed loudly.

Wanda groaned and panted above you. Her slick was dripping down your chin to your neck. The taste of her was addictive.

"I'm gonna cum." Your words were muffled by Wanda, but the demons heard you. "Please, can I cum?"

"Oh, this one has manners, Natty." Wanda laughed above you. Her laughter was strained and whiney.

"Hold it." Natasha snapped.

You whined loudly, wanting to fight Natasha on her decision, but you felt like that would do more harm than good.

Wanda grabbed at your hair and pulled you further into her cunt. Her hips stopped grinding against your face and you moaned as spurts of liquid hit your face.

Your orgasm quickly followed.

You found yourself in Wanda's arms when you came down from your high. She caressed your face with the back of her hand with that sick, inhumane smile.

"I think we're gonna keep you."

#wandanat x reader #wandanat x you #wandanat x y/n #wanda smut #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda x reader #natasha x reader #wanda maximoff smut #natasha romanoff smut #kinktober #wandanat #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you

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loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year ago

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Show me where it hurts (part 1)

Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader

(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel's acting weird, and you make it your mission to find out exactly what's going on.

warnings: no warnings for this chap, pg-13, swearing and canon level violence. smut next chapter xoxo

a/n: this is a combination of 2 asks and this post I saw on here a while ago: flirty/ snarky fem reader, Miguel during a ""rut"" (I don't know if it counts as a rut really, but its to do with his animal instincts/DNA) and Lyla playing matchmaker. I had so much fun writing this, enjoy :D

(i wrote this pre seeing spiderverse 2, so i think characterisation is a little off, esp for Lyla, apologies! I'll fix it in my upcoming fics)

edit: I use the term "bichita" which I have been informed can be read not as I intended in Spanish. I'm not a native speaker so I want to apologise in advance. I'm doing more research for my future fics and leaving this up as a testament to my stupidity. Spanish speakers, feel free to correct me / clown my ass in the comments. My bad guys :(

wc: 3.6k

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

You think Miguel is avoiding you.

One of your closest friends, giving you the runaround for months, it seems. Calling the two of you close friends is a little extreme, sure. You've only known O'Hara for two years, and been in love with him for slightly less than that, thank you very much. And yes, he refuses to call you by anything but your last name. And the last time you saw him he wouldn't so much as look at you, but that was besides the point.

"..the point," You tell Lyla, in between exasperated bites of cereal, "... is that aren't elite forces of spiderpeople supposed to, you know, have some spiderpeople kick ass once in a while? And where exactly is our fearless leader? I haven't seen O'Hara's scary ass in weeks, and I'm starting to miss it."

She gives you a look, one that says this isn't what I'm programmed for , but you pointedly ignore it.

"His ass, by the way." You clarify. "I very specifically miss his ass. Remind me to get his routine. I know girls that would kill for…"

"How the fuck did you get in here?" A voice croaks. You turn behind you and see Miguel, not in his suit, but wrapped up in a blanket like he's just woken up. And he looks rough, like a train ran him over on the way here: puffy eyes, splotchy skin, tension kneaded into his brow.

"Wow." Your spoon drops into the milk. "You look like shit.."

He furrows his brow even deeper, if that was possible. " Mierda. You shouldn't be here."

"This isn't quite the welcome party I was expecting, man. I'm the only one to actually turn up to one of your meetings, and this is what I get?"

"I thought I told Lyla to cancel," He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Cancel? Since when do you miss a chance to talk about rules and protocol?"

"I don't have time for this-"

"-and I'm not leaving without a proper explanation. Is everything okay?"

"It's actually way worse now you're here." He deadpans.

"Haha ." You turn to Lyla. "You drop everything to travel halfway across the multiverse and this asshole won't even say thanks."

"Thanks, but this asshole needs you to leave. Now."

This is the most he's spoken to you in forever, and you hate that you like it. You just want his attention, however it comes. If that means dragging this out so maybe he acknowledges you, touches you, looks at you - then so be it. Squinting, you get closer to him. You scan his face for anything to latch onto. You put a hand on his shoulder, still searching.

"You sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if-"

"Si, si." He grits his teeth, looking away. "M'just fine. I'll explain…. later."

"...because I'm your right hand man?" You grin, poking at his brow. "Stop frowning so much Miguel, you're gonna ruin that pretty face of yours."

He flushes, nervous, and swats you away. "-what? N-No. You're not my right hand man and I like my face just the way it is. Now, leave. "

Making your way to the door, you tap your nose teasingly. "You know where to find me!"

When the door closes with a click, you make your way down the corridor, and stop in your tracks when you hear it. It's muffled, but with the strain of your supersenses you can make out Miguel's voice just beyond the wall.

"I just…. don't want her to see me like this… Lyla, it's not happening… I can't tell her…." Tell her what, exactly?

Resolutely, you make up your mind. Miguel O'Hara's got a secret. And before you leave for home, you're gonna do everything in your God given power to wear him down and find out.

~~~

Despite his insistence otherwise, you liked to think of yourself as O'Hara's right hand man - and most of the other spiderpeople thought so too. You were one of the very first he recruited, after crash landing onto your earth like a spiderman-shaped meteor; the two of you were inseparable. Miguel was stubborn and headstrong and thought he was right all the time. Infuriatingly, he was, but that didn't stop you from telling him to get his head out of his own ass when his ego grew too big.

He was different around you, you think. Softer, sometimes. Harsher, other times. He told you what you needed to hear whether you wanted to or not; the result of mutual respect and agonising persistence. Slowly, you had chipped away his hard exterior; the one he built because he thought he needed to push people away. In that regard, you were similar, but this need manifested in you like a weed - an awful, awful compulsion to joke and laugh at your own expense, to keep others at an arm's length. You had spent your whole life picking and pruning away at yourself, looking for perfection. Even after all this, multiverse-hopping and fighting alongside people who were the closest things you had to friends , it wasn't enough. There was still something missing.

Ironically, Miguel had told you something similar the one of the last times you had spoken. You had fucked up a mission, well and truly. In the aftermath, all you can remember is coming back to base, limping on Jessica's arm.

"She's hurt!" She cries out. Lyla materialises and leads you both to the med bay, inspecting any visible wounds. There's a deep laceration, sticky with blood, at the base of your stomach. You shift onto the bed and hiss with pain.

Miguel is quick to follow, face twisted with confusion, pain, sadness. Even in your haze, you feel the tension radiating off of him as he drags over a cart of supplies.

"What happened?" He strains.

"I don't even… it happened so fast. We got ambushed, and all of a sudden I'm on the ground. I wasn't thinking straight and… " She sobs. "...she jumped in front of me. God, she saved my life-"

"-wasn't your fault, Jess." You croak, trying to sit up. "And I'm fine. Just need to walk it off…"

"Sit, bichita," His nickname makes you frown, despite yourself, and you settle back down. "Lyla, what's the damage?"

Your vision goes spotty, and Lyla's voice barely registers. All you can feel is searing pain in your side, but Miguel is warm, oh so warm. You clutch his arms, and force him to look you in the eye.

"M'ready, Miguel." He nods weakly, but you don't think he understands. "I mean it . I can lead, j-just need another chance and I won't let you down… Jess, tell him that I can-"

"It's okay. I believe you. You just need to relax for me, hmm?" He clutches at your hand, tight, and it's like you're the only two people in the world. "You did good. I promise."

Faintly, you nod. You feel a pinch at your arm, and Jessica's there, with an empty vial of something in her hands. The pain washes over you, and you fight to keep your eyes open. In those last few moments of light, you swear you feel a shaky kiss pressed to your temple.

"Sleep, mi bichito amoroso. Sleep."

When you come to, you're still in the medbay, moonlight streaming through. Well, artificial moonlight. Time worked a little differently here, something Miguel explained to you a while ago - God knows what about dilation and quantum interference. It makes you smile now, remembering his frustration as he tried to explain to no avail. You were the only spiderman this side of the multiverse without a degree in quantum tech, you had said with a lopsided smile.

You move to sit, and pain shoots up your side. Groaning, you push through it, determined to get out of this bed and find the others. As if on cue, Miguel walks in, almost leaping towards you.

"You should… mierda ! You should be resting in bed."

You pout as you stumble into his chest. He hooks an arm around you and leads you back. You clamber in, sighing. "M'fine, O'Hara."

"Your guts were halfway out of your body less than 24 hours ago. So stay put, or you might give me another heart attack."

You scoff, incredulous. "You were worried?"

He shrugs. " 'Course I was."

"Why? You know I'm practically indestructible." You give him a shit eating grin, and poke the frown appearing at his brow. He doesn't bat you away like he usually does.

"Famous last words, bichita." He sighs. You can't speak a lick of Spanish, but you know he only calls you that word when you've frustrated him to his limit. So you take it as a win, for now.

He drops into the chair next to you. "How are you feeling?"

"Just peachy, dollface." You wink, and he doesn't so much as groan.

"I'm being serious. You went through something pretty traumatic…"

"You want me to tell you it hurts, so, so bad, daddy? " You pout and flutter your eyelashes mockingly. Miguel shifts in his seat, unable to make eye contact.

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean, O'Hara? I feel fine. And in a couple of days, I'll feel even better, and I'll be up and about. I can finish what we started and-"

"-no, absolutely not." He frowns. "A couple of days? I'm sending you home-"

"You can't do that! On whose fucking authority?"

"On the authority of you almost fucking died ! Keeping you safe is our priority right now-"

"God, is this my punishment? This is a low blow, O'Hara. You know how hard I've worked for this: months of surveillance and intel a-and I did everything by the book, just like you told me to." You croak. "I fucked up . I know that, and I feel terrible. Give me a chance to make things right; that's all I'm asking. I can do it, I know it. "

He looks at you for a moment, something heavy in his expression. His face contorted, he strips you down to the bone with just his gaze. His voice is so quiet, you almost miss it.

"....you're still trying to prove yourself, aren't you?"

Honestly, it catches you off guard. You don't even know what the fuck that means, let alone why he said it.

"I don't… I d-don't…?"

"They all love you. Respect you. More than me I think, sometimes." He chuckles at that. "You're good at what you do. The best . What else are you trying to prove? What else do you need ?"

Your throat goes dry. You couldn't speak if you wanted to.

"I'm not punishing you. You made a mistake, but you don't need to be crucified for it. I just want to keep you safe. I can't… we can't lose you."

"Miguel-"

"-this isn't a discussion. And I'm not trying to argue, although I know how much you like to argue." He inches closer, cupping your face gently. You try to move away, blinking back tears. But his hands are steady and he strokes your jaw with so much tenderness you think you hear your heart break. He's pretty, so pretty. You don't deserve him, you think. "There'll be time to fight, bichita. Rest. That's your mission right now."

"C-can't sleep." You breathe. "It hurts."

Miguel pauses, head tilted like he's thinking. He taps your shoulder. "Scoot over."

You do as he says, and he slips into the bed with you. It's a tight fit, but he manages, placing you on his chest with an arm gently around your shoulders. You bury your face in his hoodie, sniffling and hoping he doesn't notice you choking back sobs. Absentmindedly, he settles into a rhythm, gentle breathing and playing with your hair, soothing you softly. He pretends he can't hear the tears.

"M'gonna stay here until you're asleep. For as long as you need."

You nod, unable to speak for fear of breaking down.

~~~

The days after felt like a blur. You woke up to Miguel gone, and an ache in your heart. Jess visits as much as she can, and Ben calls you a couple times, to see if you're okay. Peter B brings Mayday, and she clambers all over your bed, bringing some life into the room. Miguel doesn't visit per se - you hear whispers of him, Lyla visiting in his stead for comprehensive status updates. Once, you wake up in the night to see him on the adjacent chair, head lolling in deep sleep. He looks peaceful, calm - one of the first times you haven't seen his brow furrowed with worry. Of course, he's gone by the morning.

The very last time you saw him, he opened the portal home. It was weird, after everything, but if Miguel felt the same you wouldn't know. Talking at a thousand miles a minute, he alternates between assuring you they'll be fine without you and situation reports from spider people all across the multiverse. Things you'd missed whilst bedbound, asking for advice before you left. He trusted your judgement and the thought warmed your heart, almost making you forget that he completely brushed past the previous nights before.

You still remember the last thing he had said to you, which would've been weeks ago, now.

"...and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me directly. Not Jess, not Ben, and certainly not Peter B. Call me, and I'll answer, I promise. You need help, you need advice, you just need someone to talk to, then-"

"-I call you. I get it, O'Hara. Will do." He opens the portal, watching as you walk towards it. He can't take his eyes off of you, even though you can't see him. At the last moment you turn, and run towards him. You almost knock him over with a hug. Burying his head in the crook of your shoulder, he hugs you back, ever careful of your injury. Separating, your smile almost knocks him over again. Weakly, he smiles back as you head through the portal, back home.

You're left with that feeling, of his arms around your body - warm, so warm - as you putter about by the switchboard. After careful deliberation (you were really, really bored ) you'd taken to manage the Multi Modal Multiversal Switchboard - as aptly named by Miguel. Everyone else called it the Big Red Phone of course, but he had insisted on calling it by its proper name . Every. Time.

The thought makes you chuckle as you call up Peter B. His icon flashes on the screen in front of you. With a click, he picks up the call, his face materialising holographically in front you. A little hand reaches up and tugs at his ear.

"Ow… ouch … Dad's on the phone, honey."

"Aww! How's my favourite Parker doing?"

"Not bad, actually! MJ just made us probably the best burger this side of New York-"

"-sorry, Peter? Me and May are trying to have a conversation." You hear her giggle in the background. Her gap toothed grin pops into frame and she babbles excitedly. "...yeah, exactly May. That's literally what I said."

"Okay, okay, that's enough." He puts the toddler down and watches her scurry away. "You're feeling better, I see."

"Yeah, back in action. Thought I'd check in."

"All good here." He squints, trying to take in your surroundings. "You're at HQ?"

You hum.

"Could've sworn Lyla cancelled…"

"Yeah, didn't get the memo. But I think something's wrong with O'Hara."

He gives you a weird look. "Uhhh, what makes you think that?"

"He won't even look at me. Was it something I said? Something I did?" Your eyes narrow. "...what do you know, Peter?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" He scoffs, a little too quickly, clutching his chest like you've offended him. He's stared down some of the scariest villains around, but the look you give him is truly chilling. "Just… uhhh. You didn't hear this from me."

"Naturally…"

"We tracked 'em down, the guys that ambushed you and Jessica."

"The Sinister Six? From Earth-215?"

"Yeah, but by the time we got there, it was just Kraven and some of his goons. Miguel got there first, and…." He gulps. "He was pissed. Trashed the whole place looking for the rest of 'em. Beat Kraven half to death and we had to pull him off."

"Shit."

"Yeah, it was pretty rough. Never seen him like that before. And just generally? He'd been weirdly quiet, a little grumpy, more aggressive on missions. I don't know what's gotten into him."

"Hmmm. Thanks, Pete."

"No problem, sweetheart. And if the big guy asks… "

"...this didn't come from you, I know." Weakly, you smile. "Say hi to my favourite Parkers, for me."

" 'Course I will. We should celebrate, if you're back officially. Mine and MJ's is always open."

"Good to know. I'll see you around."

He waves goodbye, and the hologram clicks off. Sighing, you try to piece together what you've just heard.

Miguel: acting weird. Well, you knew that already. Aggressive was new. And Lyla? She had canceled, but not for you, for some reason. An honest mistake, perhaps. But Lyla doesn't make mistakes…

You stew for a couple of hours, puttering about the switchboard, twiddling your thumbs. Something's wrong, and for some reason you're afraid to see him. To have him look straight through you, again, when you ask to do the same. Show me where it hurts. Tell me how to make it better.

On the way there, you chew your lip in anticipation. In the corridor, you're outside the door to his place, hand hovering above the door. To knock, to call. In the harsh fluorescent light, you hesitate.

"Lyla?" Nervously, you sink down onto the floor. It's hard to explain, but you don't expect her to actually come; to materialise in front of you.

"How can I assist you?" She says with a ding.

"Uhh… hi. Just wanted to talk." You pause, clicking your tongue. "Can you be honest with me?"

"I can only be honest with you. It is not in my programming to lie, unless specified by my owner."

"Sure. Cool. It's about him, actually. Is Miguel okay?"

She tilts her head, as if processing your request. "Okay is a subjective term. Is Mr O'Hara alive? Yes. Is Mr O'Hara physically well? Yes. By those terms, he is okay ."

Too vague for your own liking. "I guess I meant more… his emotional state. To the best of your knowledge… in your opinion , Lyla: is Miguel okay?"

"...I believe Mr O'Hara is experiencing some emotional turmoil."

You frown. "Oh. Do you know why?"

"Mr O'Hara has instructed me not to disclose that information with you."

"Fair enough. But you don't have to tell me… I could just ask questions?"

She nods. "There is nothing in my programming that prevents me from answering some questions within certain parameters."

"Did I do something? Not just today but… last time I was here. Did I say something to hurt or upset him? Is that why he's acting weird?"

"No." She says blankly. "And yes. I suppose it is… complicated." She gestures around that word.

"I'm a little confused, Lyla."

She sits next to you, on the cool tile. Not that she could feel it, but it feels more intimate - like two friends talking. The extent of Lyla's consciousness, you weren't sure of. Was she alive? To you, she might as well be. Could she think, feel, emote? Maybe, maybe not. You weren't smart enough to understand the nuances of her programming. But you were human enough to see it in her - something glittering beyond the surface.

It could be projection, but you swear her voice is softer. "He has a name for you. When he speaks about you, and to you. I have it logged in my memory database. Do you know what that is?" You shake your head.

Lyla opens up her palm and projects videos and images - little Miguel's popping up in her palm, tinny and gruff voices ringing through the hallway. They say your name, shout your name, whisper it. Some say other things in Spanish. Curse words had always been your assumption, and he had given you no reason to think otherwise. Now, having it played back to you, you hear a tenderness in his voice you would've missed. Words and phrases that come up again and again…

"Bichita." She repeats. "Bichito del amor. Mi bichito amoroso. "

You shake your head, still confounded. "...I don't speak Spanish, Lyla."

"Little bug. Sweetheart. Lovebug. My little lovebug." She clears her throat. "I believe they are terms of endearment."

Steadfast, she directs you towards her palm. Another small Miguel appears, and you think it's him from this morning.

"I thought I told you not to let anyone in, Lyla?"

"I did not let her in. She let herself in using the code you previously gave her, Mr O'Hara."

"Yeah, for emergencies. Fuck. Mi bichita, too smart for her own good."

"...If you are in distress, I believe she would understand, Mr O'Hara."

"I just think it's too much. I don't want her to see me like this."

"According to Alchemax files, previous subjects showing this kind of aggression benefitted from-"

"Lyla, it's not happening, no chance. I can't tell her."

The figure blinks out of her palm. "Mr O'Hara has forbid me from telling you about certain things."

"...but not from showing me." Your eyes meet hers. You give her a watery smile. "Thank you."

With a hint of a smile, she nods and is gone from the corridor. You are left alone, with nothing but your thoughts of little lovebugs rattling around in your brain.

#miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #across the spiderverse #kat_writes😼#this gif is fucking crazy btw

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