#so uh that’s embarrassing but i had to admit it

[bunnyunderthebed]

the camping trip was the first time for a lot of things. in all honesty i should've seen it coming, even that early on, but i've always been a little slow on the uptake.

i know now, with the benefit of hindsight, that you spilling wine on my jeans was a set up. clearly no amount of caution on my part was going to slow you down for long; you were going to get what you wanted one way or another. apologies abound, followed by enthusiastic blotting with napkins and paper towels—how convenient for you that the spill was all over my groin—to little effect. the thoroughly ruined wranglers were set to dry alongside a promise for replacements, and you slyly suggested that i simply sleep in my boxers. it was getting to be that time anyway, the fire was low and i was tired, so i didn't think anything of it.

i was expecting a comfy night of snuggling and stargazing—that's what the suspension tent had been bought for, of course—but you had different plans. no time was wasted by your hands, feeling me up just as soon as you changed the spotify playlist. my neck had been a bit of a focus for you in those days, and you had gotten plenty of milage out of it thus far. with how sensitive it is, it was the fastest route you had to the noises you really liked. with your arm wrapped around from behind your fingers scouted my jaw, tracing out all the little spots that made me shiver, and you got to work putting hickeys on every one of them.

i'll admit i was too distracted by the attention to notice your free hand trailing downwards slowly, skillfully avoiding all the sensitive spots that might give you away as it crossed my torso. once you arrived on target, though, there was no peeling you away. a single finger, dragged along the contour of my bulge, would be my only notification. if the long, deep gasp hadn't been enough of a green light for you, the throbbing certainly was. a gentle brushing of my thighs was all you needed to splay me out, and you cooed a soft praise in my ear for melting in your hands so effortlessly.

"Good boy, bunny," you said for the first time. i felt you play and tease at the waistband and considered begging. maybe if i had, you'd've obliged me, but i couldn't think straight with you nibbling on my ear. instead you gently massaged me through my boxers, groping lovingly while you laid little kisses on my jaw, and all i could manage was a whine. you growled with excitement, turning the little kisses into little bites and my gasps into moans. you were hammering buttons now, not just pressing them. the growing wet spot was the invitation you needed to slip your hand in. i froze as you gripped me and you huffed with feral content. i twitched and throbbed in your hand, silently aching for you to follow through. i was too lost in it all to realize i needed to warn you before you started.

a pained yelp tore out of my mouth and you immediately let go. my hips recoiled and i instinctively curled up and twisted away from you. i hissed as the hurt radiated, and you pulled me into an embrace to quickly soothe me and figure out what had happened. i mumbled to you between breaths.

it... uh... it doesn't... you can't pull on it like... like that... i'm sorry... i know it's... weird...

you seemed to pause for a moment.

"Can I... see?"

i nodded slowly and turned my body back to you. lifting your head to see what you were doing, you gingerly pulled me out of my boxers. i was too embarrassed to look you in the eye.

you... uh... you don't have to... if it's a problem... i understand if it's not what you're used to...

turning my head by the chin, you met my gaze warmly.

"It's beautiful. You're beautiful."

pretty boys with pretty cocks that just beg to be caged, pumped mercilessly, spat and stepped on <3

[artslovergirl]

art & patrick at mark rebellato academy

[headcanons]

notes: i really enjoyed writing this because i just genuinely adore these characters and this movie so much. there's so many interesting little details and nuances there that i could just talk about forever and ever. i truly hope i did them justice here lol (also writing this made me jealous of people that are good at writing character analysis' and thinkpieces bc wow it is hard!) but yeah enjoy!

wordcount: 3.4k

they met at age 12 during their first day at the mark rebellato academy in their now shared room. 

when art came in with a duffel bag (that looked comically big next to his scrawny kid body) patrick was already sitting on the bed he had claimed(the right side next to the door) all by himself, his parents didn't have a very tearful nor long goodbye as they sent their son off to boarding school.

in contrast art’s mom and grandma seemed keen to embarrass him in front of his new roommate with their cooing and hugging him goodbye. 

it wasn't even like his mom and him were really all that close though. she just seemed to want to squeeze in all the moments of a loving mother-son relationship into the small segments of time she actually spent with him.

the goodbye hug and small ruffle of his hair from his grandma felt a little more genuine. embarrassing all the same as he could feel the other dark haired boy try not to crack up at the display.

"mom. please." he pleaded with her as she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "i’m sorry, artie, but i need to make up for all the time i'm gonna miss with you!" yeah, he bets.

a few minutes later and a tear or two from his mother they did finally leave him be. as soon as he heard the door shut though, the awkward silence enveloping the room almost made him miss them. 

he threw his duffel bag on the left bed and sat down on the edge. he fidgeted with his bottom lip, a nervous habit he's had for as long as he could remember. 

the brunette boy shifted on the bed so he was now facing him. his mouth pulled into a toothy grin "so you're...artie?" 

art groaned and hid his head in his hands, slumped over his knees. "no, that's..just my moms nickname for me. sorry you had to see that." he says in a squeaky broken voice which didn't help the embarrassment he was already feeling.

the other boy just brushed right past all that and said "i’m patrick." and then as an afterthought, "zweig."

"uh." art leaned back up, still avoiding his gaze. it was weirdly intense. "yeah, i’m..art. um, donaldson." he said the last part like it was a question almost.

patrick began to swing his legs a little. it was clear to him that art was the quiet type even if they had just exchanged a few words so far, but luckily patrick didn't mind talking. it was something his father always hated about him. he almost talked enough for both of them which after a little while finally seemed to break the ice of art's shy exterior. 

art didnt know what he thought about patrick yet. he was pretty..confident that was for sure. even a little arrogant, maybe. art scolded himself internally for being so judgemental. it was quality he hated about himself, but seemingly couldn’t get rid of.

despite all of that he had to admit that patrick was easy to talk to. there was never an uncomfortable gap in conversation with him. which art liked since those kinds of things made him want to crawl out of his skin sometimes.

that first night he spent staying up with patrick, slowly realizing how much they had in common while simultaneously being complete opposites, is one of his fondest memories and probably always will be. he never experienced another connection that felt anything even close to that.

their room wasn't too small but with the way patrick would just constantly toss his clothes wherever he pleased it seemed a lot smaller. 

it's not like art was insanely neat or anything, he was still a teenage boy. patrick was just exceptionally messy.

"patrick, this shit is so gross, i told you to use the hamper." 

patrick groaned, "youre such a neatfreak, fuck off." 

at that response a pair of dirty boxers were thrown at his head, courtesy of art. "i don't want to see or smell your worn underwear. that doesn't make me a neatfreak." 

patrick just tossed it back in art’s direction, to which the blonde quickly scurried out of the way to dodge it like his life depended on it. 

"you know if tennis doesn't work out for you, you'll make a good housewife." patrick grinned mockingly.

“ha-ha.” art just rolled his eyes, stuck up his middle finger and let the door slam behind him with his racket bag slung over his shoulder. 

trying to get patrick to do anything was like trying to teach a cat to do a trick without any treats. borderline impossible. so by age 15 art finally gave up.

...until he realized a year later that patrick would clean his side of the room whenever they had a girl over so..

yeah, sometimes he did lie and tell patrick that a girl was coming over just so he would clean his side of the room. 

you can judge him all you want but you never had to room with patrick zweig

 and after the third time that trick stopped working anyway. art was never a good liar. or maybe patrick could just call his bullshit way too easily.

they didn't fight too often, it was more like they constantly got into little tiffs

except for that time where it got so out of hand that they duct-taped a line dividing their rooms into two sides. (i know this is giving sitcom i'm sorry but tell me i'm wrong)

eventually they kind of forgot what they even fought about in the first place but they were too lazy to take the tape off of the carpet, so it just stayed on there for like 2 years till it peeled off.

like i mentioned in my other post these two were BITCHES

they would def talk shit all the time. they were not even trying to be secret about it tbh. (see: them staring at anna crying at tashi's party)

they sat in the bleachers watching one of their classmates play a practice match

“dude, look at that forehand. it sucks.” art muttered. patrick nodded, “i know. no way she’ll even make it through the semester.” “i’ll be surprised if she makes it through this match without fracturing her wrist.” patrick snickered at art’s comment.

actual mean girls LMAO

and to be fair, they were fucking amazing at tennis, especially when they played together

so it's not like anyone could necessarily insult them back

but it also wasn't bullying or anything

they were just judgy and loved to talk shit

art had some decorum about it or felt bad about it sometimes. not patrick though. 

man has no shame. never did. as art so lovingly puts it “the part of his brain that feels shame withered away a long time ago.”

art wore glasses from ages 12 till 14 

he then switched to contact lenses because patrick said girls dont like guys with glasses and that they make him look nerdy

they weren't allowed to have any sort of electronics like computers or flip phones at the academy. not even mp3 players. 

now obviously patrick completely ignored that rule. he had like three flip phones under his bed in case his actual one ever got taken (it did)

he also smuggled in 2 mp3 players (one was for art, patrick is so kind… he did charge him 4 dollars for it though. that rich asshole. lmao)

honestly i would like to insert here what i think they would have listened to but..i was like..a baby when they wouldve been at the academy so..feel free to drop your music headcanons in the reblogs or comments 

they were only allowed one weekly call to their families from the communal landline.

neither patrick nor art were very fond of these calls so even though they weren't supposed to they would always go into the phone room together.

patricks mother always insisted on speaking in german with her son. he thought she only did it because it made her feel more connected to his father’s side of the family. not like it would fix their fucked up marriage though. 

“nein, mama, ich habe mein deutsch nicht vergessen.” (no, mom, i havent forgotten my german) he sighs. art sits on the floor next to him and flicks a rubber band at him. “ja, verstanden. ja, ich weiß.” (yes, understood. yes, i know.) he rolls his eyes. 

art understood a few of the basic words since patrick taught him some german after art asked how to correctly pronounce his last name. 

“..bis nächste woche. tschüss.” (talk to you next week. bye.) he hung up. his mom said i love you but he knew she didn't mean it so he didn't say it back. 

patrick groaned and stretched out his legs that were seemingly getting longer by the day (art secretly prayed for a growth spurt that would make him taller than patrick. right now he was still pretty short for a guy his age.) 

he handed the phone to art. “she always talks so much. it's like i'm not even on the other line.” patrick scowls. art just nodded. he knew that by now.

art called his grandma but his dad picked up instead. it was okay. talking to his dad felt a little like talking to some distant uncle that he only saw once a year, “how's it going, champ?” “good.” “great.” that kinda stuff

the phone call lasted 5 minutes. he stood up and hung the phone back on the receiver. 

“wanna smoke?” patrick asked already reaching for the two loose cigarettes stuffed into his jean shorts pocket.

art nodded. he didn't really like smoking, and he kind of only did it because patrick did. and whenever he did, all he could think about was how bad for him it was. 

he was always pretty conscious about that kinda stuff, it was a little drilled into him by his dad who was the most adamant about art becoming a tennis player since he used to be one when he was younger.

so sugar and fats (basically anything that tasted good) were pretty much banned in the donaldson household 

which kind of resulted in art subconsciously believing that anything that brought him joy or pleasure must be inherently bad for him or followed by a feeling of guilt and shame to make up for it.

needless to say art wasn't the best at indulging. he was a little jealous of how patrick never seemed to have any issue with that sort of thing.

patrick didn't care about maintaining a good diet or depriving himself of life's pleasures for the sake of tennis. he took what he wanted like life owed it to him. 

maybe that's why he smoked with patrick. to try and be more like him?

also because it gave him a nice sense of rebellion.

most things he did with patrick gave him that feeling.

at the academy they were the definition of ‘not sold separately’

if you saw one the other wasn't far behind

its not like they didn't have other friends. they did. they were pretty popular actually

but none of those friendships were anything like what art and patrick had.

especially when playing doubles.

it felt like they could communicate telepathically 

patrick knew when art was going for the ball before the other team even served and vice versa.

tennis felt different when they were playing together. better.

and it felt so easy, it felt like nothing they needed to work on. their friendship was the same. it was so easy, so natural.

after about a year or so of being friends they started being in sync. literally.

they cross their legs at the same time, they pick up their rackets at the same time, they adjust their forehand grip at the same time, they walk at the same pace, they sit down the same etc etc you get it

also that isn't really a headcanon, like this is canon in the movie. and it makes me SICK that they were still in sync in 2019. after not talking for 12 years. shut up that’s some soulmate shit

now let's talk about something else that is canon…the pushed together beds.

yes!

now, i think patrick is a person that is pretty open with his body in general in terms of like being physically affectionate. or just being physical. 

i don't know if art is, i think he's a little more reserved. (repressed if you will! i will!)

but patrick touching him so casually does fill a little tiny (gaping) void in him that yearns for touch.

he is a professional yearner as we all know

and patrick never had an issue satisfying those yearnings for him. (i think we saw that in the fact that patrick taught art how to jerk off ok next topic)

patrick would sling his arm around his shoulder, lay his long legs over arts lap, ruffle arts curls (“stop that, you're messing them up.” “no, i'm not they always look like this”),he would barge into their room after practice flopping his tall sweaty body on top of art to annoy him.

they were very physically affectionate it was just all under the guise of shoving and tripping each other and just general teenage boy roughhousing shenanigans. that counts as a love language to me ok!

art got used to patrick touching him very quick and even reciprocated sometimes 

also i do think that sometimes patrick would smack art’s ass as a joke. lol. (that's inspired by that video of the two doubles players doing that…do you guys know what i’m talking about)

OK SO!

the beds.

they were 16. patrick suggested it. “these beds are too fucking small.” he complained, laying on his staring at the smoke detector that he had covered with a shower cap so it wouldnt detect the smoke from his cigarettes. 

and to be fair…yeah. patrick stood at 1,80 cm right now and his feet were hanging over the edge of the bed.

art looked up from his book which he was only reading to impress a girl he had a crush on. patrick had told him to just pretend he read it but art said that was disingenuous and he wanted to know what she liked and why she liked it. 

“you know what we should do? we should push our beds together.” patrick sat up, grinning like he just had the best idea ever. 

arts features twisted up in thought. “isn't that a little close?” 

“nah, why, we still have our own beds. just more space.” patrick shrugged.

he glanced at their beds. “uhhh…i guess we can do that. the beds are a little cramped. although is that even allowed?” art began fidgeting with his lip like he usually did when he was in thought.

but patrick was already in the process of shoving his bed next to arts after which he let himself fall onto the two beds in a starfish position, with his gangly limbs almost stretching to every corner of the beds. “oh. great. and i’ll just curl up at the foot of the bed then?” art gave patrick a deadpan stare. 

“up to you.” patrick grinned in that specific way that really irked art. 

patrick did make some space for him once they actually went to sleep that night

even now they were two opposites making a whole

patrick always ran cold so he hogged all the blankets and art always ran hot so he immediately kicked them off of him as soon as he fell asleep 

that only made this new pushed together beds thing even better for patrick because he now got to have his own blanket AND steal arts every night

i wouldn't say they cuddled necessarily? i think it was more just like the regular amount of physical touching that happens when you sleep in the same bed

which is still pretty intimate to me idk about you guys

like their legs kind of thrown over each others, art’s arm occasionally draped over patricks chest (or literally on his face. art denies every time that he does it on purpose but patrick KNOWS he does it to annoy him. he knows.) 

one time art had a nightmare of being trapped under a rock only to wake up and find out that somehow patrick had rolled over in the middle of the night and was now laying COMPLETELY on top of art. right before he was about to push him off (because he was making art actively suffocate) patrick rolled over again and fell out of bed. he didn't even wake up from that. genuinely just slept on the floor that night. freak of nature that guy.

also patrick for sure twitches like a dog in his sleep

and i think it used to wake art up because he's a pretty light sleeper but eventually he just got used to it lol

when art went to stanford he never finished the last bite of anything he ate because he was so used to patrick being next to him and just stealing the last bite.

patrick really really wanted to get his ears pierced when he was 15. 

so naturally he asked art to do it for him.

you know…like how they did it in the parent trap. which if you asked them is a movie that they definitely haven't seen. ( but they did see it and art cried at the twins reuniting with their parents, oops.)

unfortunately for patrick art was very very squeamish with needles at that age (i think that mellowed down the older he got but he still refused to look whenever he got vaccinations or anything like that.) 

so now it was midnight, they were in their room sitting on the floor and arguing

“dude, just do it, stop being such a wuss. you're not even the one getting pierced.” patrick groaned, he had numbed his earlobe with ice but he could already feel a little bit of the feeling return to it, that's how long they had been sitting there with art squirming around because he hated even looking at the sewing needle.  

“that's worse though because i have to look at the needle going in your ear!” art argued

“ well, i can't do it myself.” patrick replied.

...

“are you wearing my shirt?” art squinted at him

“stop trying to change the subject.” 

“i told you to stop stealing my clothes. i don't want to do laundry that often.”

“can you focus?” patrick groaned

“dude.. okay, fine. just give me a second.” art took a deep breath.

“oh. my god. you're not performing open heart surgery.” 

“shut the fuck up.”

“you shut the fuck up.” 

and what do you know that response got art to get over his fear of needles for a second and stab that thing right through his best friends ear 

the little high pitched yelp patrick let out in surprise at that is something art didn't let him forget about for like two weeks after

it took about another hour for art to pierce patricks second ear and eventually they managed but then like a week later patrick forgot to put his earrings in and the piercings immediately grew shut

so all that drama was for nothing!

i think art has always kind of been the type of guy to want domesticity. 

i already posted about this somewhere but i kind of came to that conclusion because patrick said “he wants to spend time with his family” to tashi in the alley scene

patrick hadn’t spoken to art for like a decade at that point

and you could say it's a good guess but NO! 

patrick knows art like the back of his hand and patrick knows that art has always wanted a family and how much it probably kills him to miss out on time with them due to his career at that point in time (also just throwing this out there i think art always wanted to have a daughter more than a son, like that just makes sense to me. maybe bc i think his own relationship with his dad is so distant? idk!)

so yeah

also the sauna scene where patrick says that marriage isn't what he was for 

(to me) also implies that he is the opposite of art who was meant for marriage

anyway do i think that art shared his wishes for a family and marriage in the future with patrick? yes

do i think patrick jokingly made art promise to make him his best man? yeah

and furthermore do i think about the fact that patrick then had to read about arts wedding in some tabloid years later? yep!

i’m sure i could think of more in the future but that's all i've got for now! i hope this was coherent enough to enjoy because it’s not as proofread as my fics usually are lol! i just wanted to get these thoughts out there

if some of these seem familiar it might be because i took some of these from my twt!

i also have some more headcanons floating around on my tumblr that i didn't include here if you want to find those, or not, i'm not your mom! 

[willowsnook]

Act my age

ham, steak, salami + veggies with white bread pleasee thank you 💞

Lewis Hamilton x gf!reader

The age gap between you and Lewis was a topic that the F1 media couldn’t seem to get over, even though you’d been together for two years. The 15-year difference was all they talked about, but you tried to brush off the chatter.

As an associate attorney practicing corporate law in Monaco, you felt you had the "maturity" box checked for dating Lewis by media standards. Still, recently the constant expectation to act “older” started to weigh on you. You were 25, and sometimes you just wanted to be you—without the shadow of “younger girlfriend” following your every move.

Feeling stressed, you called your friends and planned a night out. Lewis kissed you goodbye with a smile, promising to pick you up if needed and reminding you to stay out of trouble. A few hours and several drinks later, you found yourself on the dance floor, lost in the music. Taking a break, you stared at yourself in the restroom mirror for a little too long, realizing it was probably time to call Lewis.

“Lewis!” you chimed when he answered.

“Hi, sweetheart. Ready to come home?” he asked, amused.

“Yes, please,” you slurred. “Can we get Taco Bell?”

“That’s terrible for you.”

“Oh, live a little!” you teased, sensing his playful eyeroll over the phone. True to his word, he arrived in minutes. As you slid into the car, you leaned over to give him a soft kiss.

“Hi,” you whispered, and he gently brushed his thumb over your cheek.

“Hi, I missed you,” he murmured, making you giggle.

“It was only a couple of hours,” you reminded him.

“Still too long,” he replied with a smile.

“Yeah, it was good to relieve some stress.” 

The look Lewis gave you after you said that made you smirk, knowing he had another way to relax once you got home.

------------------------------------------------

The Friday before the Mexico GP, you were in the McLaren garage with Lando while Pato took the wheel for FP1. Lando was one of your closest friends in the paddock, and with you both living in Monaco and being around the same age, you bonded quickly. Caught up in a playful 1v1 soccer match, you giggled as you nutmegged Lando, who tackled you in a dramatic attempt to stop you.

You landed awkwardly, wincing as you hit the ground, and Lando immediately looked worried.

“Shit, Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, glancing around nervously. “Lewis is going to kill me.”

Crossing your arms, you raised an eyebrow. “Are you more worried about Lewis than me?”

“Uh, yes,” he admitted without hesitation, making you laugh.

Later, back in the Mercedes garage, you waited for Lewis to finish his interviews. As notifications began flooding your phone, you noticed you’d been tagged in a video from one of Lewis’s interviews:

Reporter: “So, Lewis, nice to see Y/N out here supporting you this weekend. Interesting video of her and Lando Norris playing football.”

Lewis: “Yeah,” he chuckled, “it’s like I’m babysitting a kid sometimes.”

Embarrassment hit you like a wave, and before you knew it, you had quietly excused yourself and called for a ride back to the hotel.

Back in the hotel room, you tried to calm yourself down in the shower, but when you stepped out, you found Lewis waiting, worried as he noticed your puffy eyes.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asked gently.

“Just thought you could use a break from babysitting,” you replied sharply.

He flinched, realizing the hurt his words had caused. “I didn’t mean it that way, Y/N,” he tried, but you shook your head.

“How else could you have meant it?” you asked, folding your arms defensively.

He sighed. “I just see Lando as... still a kid. And when you’re with him, it makes you look that way too.”

“You do know Lando and I are the same age, right?” you countered. “If you didn’t want to ‘babysit,’ maybe you should’ve dated someone your own age.”

“Don’t say that,” he said, pulling you into his arms. Tears slid down your cheeks as he held you tightly. “You’re the only one I want to come home to. Always.”

Exhausted, you nodded, letting the conversation drop as you both went to bed.

The next day, you still felt out of sorts but kept quiet to avoid distracting Lewis before qualifying. As he was stopped for a quick Sky Sports interview, you hung back with Lando, who shot you a sympathetic look.

“Rough night?” he asked gently, and you nodded.

“This isn’t your fault, Lando,” you assured him. “He shouldn’t have said it.”

Lando’s expression shifted, and following his gaze, you saw Lewis speaking with the interviewer, his hand resting on her lower back as he laughed at something she said. A wave of anger and hurt rushed over you.

“Y/N…” Lando started, but you brushed him off.

“I’m leaving.”

Storming out of the paddock you were pissed. You knew Lewis would think nothing of it and expect you not to either and to “take the high road.” But you were so fucking over that. Mixed with yesterday’s emotions you were feeling slightly crazy and you weren’t going to contain it. 

Calling Lewis’s assistant, you made her book you a flight home immediately and went to the hotel to get your stuff. By the time you reached there, you had seen countless pictures of Lewis and the reporter cozy together, so naturally, why not print them off for him to frame? You were a woman on a mission in the hotel business room printing these pictures. Spreading them out on your bed, you snapped a pic to send to your sister, who called you insane and then left.

Instead of Monaco, you took a shorter flight to New York, where Lewis kept a penthouse. You settled in, ordered takeout, and watched the race on Sunday from the penthouse, glad to see him finish P4 but still seething.

You weren’t expecting to see Lewis until tomorrow, so you went to bed around 11, only to be jolted awake at 1am by someone pounding on the door.

"Just let me in," you heard Lewis call out.

Groggy, you opened it to find him standing there, exhausted, dressed in a Mercedes hoodie and sweats.

He dropped his bags on the living room couch and crossed his arms, facing you. “Nice touch with the photos,” he said, his voice steady.

“I thought they were fitting,” you shot back, arms crossed.

Lewis sighed. “You know that wasn’t anything. She isn’t you.”

“Who cares that I know that?” You yelled. “You are mine! Not hers! And you know what I wanted to do? I wanted to march over there and rip her off you by her hair.” 

Lewis’ eyes widened but you kept going. 

“I’m done pretending that I’m too secure with myself to care about this shit because, guess what? I do fucking care! I do care when girls throw themselves at you all the time. So yeah, I printed off those pictures for you, and yeah, I knew that was crazy, but if that’s what I have to do to get an emotional reaction out of you, then I’ll do it every time.” 

After your outburst, the room felt charged with a heavy, vulnerable silence. Lewis looked at you, his face softened by something between understanding and regret. He took a deep breath, then stepped forward, gently wrapping his arms around you. You could feel the warmth of his embrace as he held you close, grounding you.

“Y/N,” he murmured into your hair, his voice low and tender, “I’m so sorry. I never, ever want you to feel like you can’t be yourself with me. I love you—exactly as you are. I didn’t realize how much pressure you’ve felt to fit into… some idea of what everyone else thinks you should be. I don’t want that for us.”

You looked up at him, eyes still glassy but softening as his words sank in. “Sometimes I feel like I have to prove I’m ‘mature enough’ to be with you,” you admitted quietly. “Like I have to be some version of me that fits everyone else’s expectations.”

He sighed, holding you even tighter. “Y/N, you’re perfect just as you are. I love you, not some ‘ideal’ of you. I love the person who’s goofy, carefree, strong… the person who prints off photos just to make a point,” he chuckled, squeezing your hand. “You don’t have to change or hold anything back for me.”

A small, relieved smile crept onto your face, and you let yourself melt into his embrace. “Thank you,” you whispered. “I just needed to hear that.”

He nodded, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “I want you to feel free to be yourself with me. I’m here because I want all of you, Y/N—all the real, unfiltered parts of you.”

You closed your eyes, taking in his words, letting them wrap around you like a promise. Finally, you looked up at him with a new lightness, feeling the tension in your chest ease.

“Alright,” you said softly, a hint of playfulness returning to your tone. “Then get ready, because the real me definitely wants Taco Bell at 2 a.m.”

Lewis chuckled, shaking his head with a fond smile. “Fine. But we’re getting fries, too.”

With your hand in his, you both headed out the door, leaving behind the weight of everyone else’s expectations. It was just you and Lewis—real, imperfect, and perfect for each other.

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

Hello! May I request Lucifer, Diavolo, and Barbatos with an MC who had a crush on Barbatos, but hides it? Not very well, like you could tell they like him but they want to stay civil just in case Barbatos doesn’t like them back, that kind of thing.

If not that’s completely fine! Thank you!

Hello! Here is your request. I hope you enjoy it.

Summary: Lucifer's, Diavolo's and Barbatos' reactions to MC having a crush on Barbatos

Contains: Fluff

GN! reader

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

The fantastic tree Vs MC's attraction to butlers

You tried to be composed. Tried was the keyword, but your cheeks warmed whenever Barbatos looked your way, and your pulse sped up when he came close. The others noticed these tell-tale signs, though you hoped you were subtle. The situation could be… a bit embarrassing, after all. What if Barbatos didn’t feel the same way?

Lucifer:

Lucifer wasn’t blind. He had noticed how your gaze lingered a little too long on Barbatos or the way you’d fluster slightly when the butler was around. In classic Lucifer style, he remained outwardly neutral, but deep down, he found it rather amusing. In his mind, he didn’t doubt that Barbatos was aware of it, too. After all, nothing escaped Barbatos's attention.

One day, Lucifer decided to tease you a bit. “You seem a little… off today. Is there something on your mind?” His voice was even, yet there was a glint in his eyes.

Your cheeks colored instantly. “Oh, no! Just… thinking about, uh, some things,” you stammered, averting your eyes.

“Is that so?” Lucifer’s lips curved slightly as he leaned back, looking amused. “I imagine some things can be quite distracting.” He let the words linger just enough to make you glance nervously in Barbatos's direction. Lucifer’s smirk only deepened.

Diavolo:

Diavolo was nothing short of delighted by the entire situation. He’d picked up on your bashful glances early on and found it charming. For him, it was a rare source of entertainment in an otherwise regimented day of royal duties. Diavolo had a soft spot for you, and a little innocent teasing wouldn’t hurt.

One day, as you all gathered for tea, Diavolo nudged you with a knowing grin. “You always seem so polite around Barbatos,” he said warmly. “It’s sweet how you hold him in such high regard.”

Your face turned red as you tried to laugh it off, saying, “Oh, well, Barbatos is… He’s… a remarkable butler.” You fumbled with your words as Diavolo chuckled. “Indeed, he is.”

He looked to Barbatos, hoping his loyal friend might catch on, but Barbatos maintained his usual serene expression. Still, Diavolo was certain Barbatos wasn’t unaware of your little crush.

Barbatos:

Barbatos had indeed noticed. He was too perceptive not to. The subtle hints in your body language, the occasional stammer, or the way your gaze lingered before you quickly looked away—it didn’t take long for him to catch on.

Barbatos respected your desire to stay composed and civil, and he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. But he couldn’t deny he was somewhat intrigued. He found your earnestness endearing, and perhaps he even felt a hint of warmth himself.

One day, as you were in the kitchen together, you almost dropped a tray when Barbatos leaned in to help you with the teapot. He gave you a gentle smile. “Do be careful. I would hate to see you hurt yourself.”

The way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat, but you tried to nod coolly. “Of course, Barbatos. Thank you.” You barely managed to get the words out.

Barbatos’s calm, kind smile lingered as he took in your flustered expression. He spoke in his soft voice, “It’s always a pleasure working with someone so… attentive.” His words were vague but held a subtle hint that made your cheeks flush even deeper.

Later that day…

Lucifer and Diavolo exchanged a knowing glance. Diavolo chuckled and leaned toward Lucifer. “I have to admit, this situation is more entertaining than I expected.”

Lucifer smirked. “Indeed. Though I suspect Barbatos will handle it with his usual grace.”

Diavolo nodded, watching your attempts to avoid Barbatos’s gaze with growing amusement. “Let’s just say, I think we’ll see some interesting developments very soon.”

---

Barbatos, meanwhile, simply observed you from across the room, an almost imperceptible smile on his face. He had all the time in the world, and he was more than willing to see where this went.

[strlstlvr]

people that pronounce huening as “hooning” make me shiver

[blimbo-buddy]

”Damn I’ve been feeling kind of shitty about what I went through when I was 15-16. I wonder if there’s a way to get all these feelings out besides therapy”

SpottedLeaf and Anya:

[23sanguinity]

The worst thing in fanfic is when you ship a poly ship but there’s not enough content for it so you read a fic with just two of the characters and they make another character you ship with both of them an ex? And it’s not the author fault, they weren’t writing for the poly ship but it still ruins what could have been a great fic because you don’t want them to be exs

[problemcore]

ahh so embarrassing

[dekuneho]

reason ☆ ( thirdyear!katsuki x reader ) suggestive — your boyfriend breaks up with you, and katsuki doesn’t waste opportunities

The first fact Class 1-A learns about you is that you have a boyfriend.

Well — had. And now you’re third years, and it’s safe to say that you should’ve broken up long ago.

You had him since middle school, but they never met him. Your dynamic shifted from the perfect picture of high school sweethearts to something more toxic since you got into UA — 1-A, no less. Yuusei didn’t pass the UA exams and called you insensitive for asking him to come meet your ‘fancy hero friends’ while he was from some low-profile school, and back when you had sympathy for him, it was difficult to be peeved at his blatant jealousy. He had a compelling, teary face.

“That’s called manipulative,” Sero says.

“He was really insecure,” you confess. Not that it makes it any better. He was manipulative because he was insecure — but that wasn’t all. He’d been that way long ago. There was a different turning point.

Kirishima gives a gentle, understanding pat on the back. “We were busy enough as it is. But now we’re about to graduate; of course you started thinking more about your future.”

“And you got the perfect ending — a future without him!” Ashido cheers to that. You take a long, long, victorious sip.

Right. After your breakup, you phoned Ashido about it, unaware that she was out with the rest of your friends, but it wasn’t like you were on speaker. Ashido gasped and shrieked, and the rest continued in her apartment, bottles of fancy wine that probably came from Bakugou lined up on the table.

Bakugou had been silent the entire time, sitting on the far edge of the couch across yours. You didn’t even think he’d come along. He’d always been coldly indifferent when it came to anything related to Yuusei. He doesn’t offer a single word; you expected him to call you stupid for dragging it this long when you entered the room. He just stared, ruby tracing your every step.

“So? What made you snap?” Kaminari asks, nestling into the cushion beside you, slinging an arm over your shoulder. You feel like a prey as Bakugou’s gaze holds on Kaminari’s arm for a moment too long. “What shit did he pull this time?”

Bakugou had been the reason for your breakup, and it almost feels like he knows exactly that.

Yuusei despised him. Bakugou is the physical embodiment of everything Yuusei failed to be, and you were friends with him. It really didn’t help that Bakugou has an ego and can back it up; Yuusei didn't have either.

Yuusei was in a heated argument with a classmate, and you got irritated by his voice drowning out even your music at the loudest volume. So you got up, buried your feet in your outside shoes, and glanced back.

“Hey, I’m going out.”

Yuusei was already having an awful day, and came the bottled-up aggression that made him spit in seething venom: “What, don’t tell me you’re going out to fuck Bakugou behind my back again?”

You paused from where you had been tugging your jacket sleeves up your arms. And then, unadulterated fury. The rest is history.

But that’s embarrassing to admit to your friends. They’d ask why Yuusei would even bring Bakugou up — why he is even a recurring argument in your relationship. It wasn’t just Yuusei that was the problem. Somewhere buried deep that Yuusei could feel was your shame, the one that knew Yuusei wasn’t just threatened by Bakugou because of one thing.

“He was having a bad day,” you say instead, and the mendacious excuse slips so easily. Back then, you thought it was because you needed to defend Yuusei; now, it was because you feared them also knowing the truth. “And I realized I just couldn’t — uh, anymore.”

“Yeah,” Sero, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Ashido agree together.

Bakugou finally shifts from where he’d been unmoving, ducking down to fill his glass. “‘least you learned your fucking lesson.” His gaze flicks up; the intensity makes you feel so shameful. It coils in your gut. “Forget the losers who can’t handle themselves. Go for the best.”

Coming from him. Is he flirting? This has to be flirting, right? Every word he says feels so charged, blatant with intent.

“Whoa, fresh on the market and you’re already saying that? Give it a few months, at least,” Kaminari laughs, followed by some, but you and Bakugou aren’t laughing. You’re stuck in this weird staring competition — looking away feels like admitting defeat. Feels like you’d straight up confess that yes, it’s you! You’re the fucking reason why!

“Yeah,” you mutter, though you’re not sure if it’s in response to Kaminari or Bakugou’s. You drag on another sip but feel as sober as a judge. You feel like you’d need ten more before you could even deal with whatever shit Bakugou is pulling.

“Cheer up, baby,” Mina coos. “You know you’re a catch. Yuusei will know exactly what he lost.”

“I don’t care about him anymore,” you say, which is the complete truth. “I’m getting shitfaced because I feel like I’m about to make a very bad decision.”

“Um?” Kirishima voices worriedly. “Do we need to take you somewhere?”

Bakugou stands abruptly, jingling his car keys in between his fingers. “Come on.”

“Are you drunk?” he asks before you can even pretend to open your front door.

“I only smell like it, but I really am too clear-headed for this,” you swear.

The moment he pins you to the wall and buries his mouth into yours, you know you are gone. This is what Yuusei had been fearing, what you’d been hiding — and fuck, it feels so good. He kisses like he’s starving like he’s been holding back for as long as you are. The shame comes spilling out soon after.

“I just got broken up with,” you say in a futile attempt to ease your guilt. “Hey — Katsuki, do you even—”

“I know what I’m doin’,” he says, mouthing over where your jaw and neck meet. "I know you want me."

“God, this is so fucked up,” you say, trailing off in a whine that really says a lot about you. “I’m an asshole. You’re really good at kissing — Katsuki—”

“Try three years of patience and tell me again what’s more fucked up,” Katsuki rasps, breath searing a mark on your skin, inciting a shudder that came down from your toes to your dizzy head.

“You were waiting for Yuusei and me to break up?”

“I get what I want.” Katsuki pauses, his eyes flicking up, arresting yours for a breath. “And he was a dick. Was bettin’ since year one.”

You curl a strand of his untamed hair, unwittingly charmed. “Sorry for making you wait.”

He responds by capturing your lips in a kiss, prying your mouth open with his, licking in, biting, pulling, grinding, and —

Katsuki softens his hold on your hips, pushing off. “Hey.”

You pant. Wow, you think, lightheaded, you don’t think you’d ever been kissed that well. “Hey,” you exhale over his mouth.

Katsuki bears his forehead heavily down on yours. “This isn’t some one-night stand rebound bullshit, you hear me? I didn’t wait three years just to get my dick wet — we’re doin’ this shit, got that?”

“I know,” you say, smiling. “You’re the best of all of them, right?”

[gothgoblinbabe]

Belt Buckle

Logan Howelett x fem reader

A/N: okay, so this. Uh. Hear me out - I can’t be the only one who’s thought about this. It’s exactly what you think it is. Also it’s not very long just cause I’m still working on requests but it’s been collecting dust in google docs

Warnings: NSFW 18+

Word count: 840

divider credit

You couldn’t quite place where the fascination began.

Maybe it was because it sat right above the bulge in his jeans or because you were always yanking the stupid thing out of the way to get his pants down his thighs, but your eyes were always on the buckle of Logan’s belt lately. He had a couple different ones - all obnoxiously big - and of course you teased him, calling him a cowboy or a show off.

Lately, though, you’d been struggling to keep your mouth shut. Every time he’d stand in front of you now, you couldn’t tear your eyes from whatever chunky adornment was attached to the front of his belt.

“What are you lookin’ at, sweetheart?”

Your eyes flickered back up to his and you shrugged.

“Nothin’.”

He titled his head, “really?”

“Mhm.”

“Why’re you starin’ like that, then?”

Shit.

You swallowed hard, avoiding his gaze. You’d been together plenty of times, admitted almost everything to each other, but you still found yourself too embarrassed to admit what it was that had you staring so much.

You finally had to tell Logan while sitting on his lap in bed, his hands kneading your hips to pull you back and forth over his hard cock beneath his jeans. With his eyes closed, lost in the feeling of your tongue in his mouth, he dragged your hips forward a little farther than intended, inadvertently dragging your thinly clad pussy right over his belt buckle. Usually he’d pick up on the little things like that - how loud you whined when he pulled you forward - but you tried not to make the noise again, embarrassed.

He did, anyway.

He pulled your lips from his with his hold on your face, his thumb and fingers gripping your cheeks to the point that your lips were squished into a pout.

“You got somethin’ you wanna tell me, pretty girl?”

You knew you could tell him anything, but this felt far too humiliating - as if you were positive he’d scoff at the idea and tell you that you were gross for even thinking it.

You tried to shake your head, but he knew you far too well.

He grabbed you by your hips and lifted you off his lap.

“Spit it out, princess.”

You sharply inhaled, eyes dropping to his belt.

“I…um, I was thinking…” you tried to say something, anything to even hint at what you wanted, but it seemed stuck in your throat.

Logan clicked his tongue, “Baby. If you want somethin’ you gotta say it.”

You hated that he was right. You had to just get it out, say it all at once like ripping off a bandaid. 

“I wanna ride your belt buckle. It’s big, I think it’d feel good.”

Your words hung in the air, met with deafening silence. 

You watched his parted lips curl up into a smug grin, his eyebrows raised in mild disbelief.

“Jesus, that’s filthy. You really think about that?”

Your face burned. You opened your lips to speak but nothing came out. He was definitely going to call you weird, tell you that’s gross and get up from the bed.

Instead, he wordlessly leaned forward and hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties to pull them down your legs. He threw them to the floor and leaned back with his hands behind his head, leaving you sitting in front of him in only one of his t-shirts with nothing underneath. You looked at him curiously, eyes flickering between his face and his lap.

“C’mon, you want it or what?”

You hastily climbed back onto his lap, positioning yourself so that his erection was behind you and your bare pussy was against the cold metal of his belt buckle. You weren’t sure exactly what to do at first. He usually held your hips when you were in his lap, helping you grind down onto him. Now, though, they were locked behind his head as his eyes bore into yours.

“You asked for it so you gotta do the work, baby.”

You huffed, placing your hands on his chest so you could lean forward and roll your hips. You slid your swollen pussy across the ridges of the cool metal of the buckle, your slick already coating the front of it and the top of his jeans.

You looked up to see Logan’s stare glued to his lap, watching hungrily with his bottom lip caught between his teeth as you rocked yourself back and forth.

“Feels good?” He asked, already breathing heavily from the way your ass grazed the tip of his cock when you dragged your hips back.

You nodded, nearly slack jawed with your eyes closed.

“Use your words,” he demanded, eyebrows furrowing.

You groaned in annoyance at the familiar phrase, one he loved to use when you were too turned on to speak.

“Yeah, feels good - fuck,” you cursed when he lifted his hips a little, pushing against you as you continued to grind yourself down. 

“So you guessed right, then, huh?” 

A/N: short and sweet but ya idk I couldn't get it out of my head <3

[cute-little-crow]

Based on a request by 💌 anon on how Sylus might react if he finds out you’re ovulating…

tw: female reader, talk of ovulation, implied breeding kink, Sylus has a strong reaction to the news, mention of birth control, NSFW throughout but part two will be worse 😈

Part Two

Fragrant water sloshed over the edge of the tub, your skin slippery from the concoction of essential oils added earlier in the hope of relieving your aches and pains. Your hand slid against your body, glossing over hardened nipples and dipping past your navel towards the dull, throbbing ache between your legs.

Your eyes remained stubbornly closed, thoughts of the debauched nature swirling in a vortex of crimson and obsidian feathers. God, you wished you could admit everything to him… admit that you were struggling, but it wouldn’t be fair to press your burdens onto Sylus.

That was why you had avoided him as much as you could. Why you had dodged the touches he tried to brush against your skin, worried that one touch alone would be enough to give the game away. That he would know from the blazing heat of your skin that things were not as they seemed.

You knew it bothered him, not that he had said anything on the subject, but it was only a matter of time. Sylus was not one to be denied.

As if summoned by thought alone, a sharp knock punctuated your daydreaming. Sinking lower into the tub until your chin hit the waterline, you listened as the low rumble of Sylus’s voice drifted through the door.

“Can I come in, sweetie?”

A tiny part of you wanted to refuse him, but that would be cruel, and cruelty was not a part of your nature, not even in your current state.

Vermillion eyes locked with yours, curious and if you weren’t mistaken, concerned. Sylus sat on the edge of the bath, his back resting on the ceramic tiles whilst he cocked his head and let out a weary breath.

“For a minute, I didn’t think you would let me in,” he admitted whilst carefully rolling the sleeves of his shirt to the elbows. “You’ve been avoiding me, kitten, why?”

You glanced off to the side, heat warmed your cheeks at the accusation. How did you tell him that it was for his own good? He didn’t need you distracting him unnecessarily with wants that made you blush and squirm with embarrassment.

Splash…

His strong hand plunged into the steaming water and wrapped around your ankle. He thumbed across your ankle bone delicately, long fingers splayed around your heel and towards your arch.

“Talk to me.”

The words were followed up with a squeeze of his hand, eliciting a moan that you couldn’t suppress. The corner of Sylus’s mouth twitched upward into a subtle smile, his grasp loosening to run the length of your calf.

“Sylus… I—it doesn’t matter. I’ll be okay, in a few days I’ll be back to my old self.”

“A few days? Nuh-uh, sweetie… I am not prepared to wait so long and I am certainly not willingly to have you continue to avoid me. What’s wrong? Are you sick?” He asked, brow furrowed and the first tendrils of his power leaked out to wash over you.

The power called to your own, entwined around each other in a lovers embrace, twisting and writhing. You weren’t sure if he felt it too, though if you were more present of mind you might have noticed how his breathing had turned shallow and his fingers had stopped massaging calf.

You licked over your parched lips. Gaze low-lidded as desire overrode your previous reservations.

“I’m… can you not look at me like that whilst I tell you this? It’s not helping.”

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like you’re going to devour me whole.”

Sylus huffed a laugh. “I just might, but fine. I’ll close my eyes, how about that?”

He was so handsome and that was certainly a large part of the problem. You’d lost count to the number of times you had fantasised about him soothing the ache in your belly. A large palm pressed against your soft belly whilst he thrust into your hot, wet cunt. His silver hair tickling your shoulder as he marked the skin of your neck, blowing cool air across the blooming bruises. Filling you up over and over until sleep took you hostage and you could happily drown in the fatigue of overused muscles.

“I’m ovulating,” you finally conceded, rushing on to explain. “It makes me feel needy. My body is hypersensitive. I’m prone to my emotions getting the better of me. Picking fights over nothing. Letting jealousy win. It’s a lot and I’m trying not to let it affect you…”

There was a weighty silence, filled only with the gentle sway of the water, and then it was broken.

“Ovulating. You’re… shit—well, that explains a thing or two.”

His eyes were positively glowing. His jaw set into an expression of pure agony. If looks could inflict damage you knew you’d be bloody beneath his dangerous maw.

Sylus was pure predator and you were the only prey he ever wanted to both consume and protect.

“Soft or rough?”

The question didn’t make sense and you frowned in confusion, nose wrinkled.

He answered by submerging his arm into the tub, right between your legs. Not even your attempt at closing your knees together would hinder his progress, not until he cupped your sex.

“I am giving you a choice,” he grit out, jaw flexing, “on how the next few hours are going to go. Either way, you will be asleep in my arms and content by the time I’m finished.”

“Oh, Sylus~”

Sylus groaned. His middle finger rubbed along your slit swollen with heat and desire, dipping through the hot flesh like a knife through butter.

“Don’t. Don’t say my name like that or I’ll make the decision for you,” he warned.

Saliva filled your mouth, runny and hot. “Rough,” you purred, letting your pussy answer for you. “But Sylus… I’m not on birth control right now.”

Sylus, who had started to rise to his feet with his arm dripping and his shirt sleeve dark with water, paused. He turned his gaze on you once more and your spine arched off the porcelain tub, nipples peaked and swollen emerged from the fragrant water.

“Stop talking, princess. I’m already a hair away from plucking you from the water and taking you on the bathroom floor like a dog.”

He strode for the door, ripping it open with such force that you shuddered.

“Five minutes. You have five minutes to get out and get onto all fours on our bed. I want to see my pretty pussy glistening and ready for me… maybe I’ll fuck a baby into you, if you’re lucky.”

You asked for rough… you were going to get it.

an: part two coming soon… dividers by @/roseschoices

[seonghwaddict]

save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi

in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.

best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.

lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!

listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis

masterlist.

it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.

you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.

“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”

based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.

“can i admit something?”

he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.

you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.

“i’ve never done that before.”

his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”

“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”

“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”

furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.

“i can… teach you, if you want?”

you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.

“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”

he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”

you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.

you could already hear him giggling at the sight.

groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.

deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.

the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.

“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.

once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.

“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”

you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”

“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”

“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”

you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.

“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”

“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”

“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.

you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.

“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”

“r-really?”

mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.

“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”

you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.

“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”

“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”

his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.

he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.

you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.

all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.

“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.

eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.

with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.

“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”

he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.

he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.

“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.

after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.

“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”

he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.

he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”

you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.

it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.

he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.

“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”

you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.

he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.

the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.

when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.

when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.

“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”

he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.

he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.

the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.

the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.

“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”

you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.

you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.

your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.

still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.

your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.

his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.

you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.

your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.

“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”

his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.

the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”

you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.

it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.

after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.

“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”

“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.

this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.

“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

[reverieblondie]

Remember Me?

Pairing: ExNerd!Miguel O’Hara X fem!civillainreader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), , Oral, Cowgirl, Missionary. You and Miguel make a mess...

Summary: Miguel has changed a lot since high school, but one thing remains the same...how he feels about you.

A/N: I have been trying to write about Miguel for weeks now! Every time I get close to finishing something for him I reread it and hate it! So I am posting this before I can change my mind! I hope you all enjoy I tried my best!

Word Count: 6,823

Part 2: coming soon....

“Pfft…I can't believe this is real; this can’t be real!” Gwen keeps repeating to herself, trying to stifle back her laughter. 

“I know! I couldn’t believe my eyes when Peter showed me but here it is!” Miles agrees; Pav quickly slings his arm around Miles for a better look.   

“Take a look at the specks on him. Did you know he needed glasses?” 

“Flip to the club photo. Now, that will shock you all.” 

At Hobies request the teens quickly start flipping through pages. The sound of flipping pages and then the sudden bursting of laughter from the small huddle was something Miguel could no longer ignore. Miguel wasn’t sure why the teens and Peter were in his office. But since the events with the spot and some well-deserved apologies, Miguel, in the teen's words, “Chilled out,” and now they seem to hang out around him more. Meaning they are often now in his office… Miguel, of course, tried to appear as indifferent as possible to this change of pace, though He had to admit it was somewhat nice to have the cheerful ambiance that came with them... Hell, sometimes they could make him chuckle; Miles was actually pretty funny. But, of course, he keeps these things to himself. 

Miguel makes his way to the huddle to see what could possibly be so enthralling. When he sees what's causing their uproar, his blood runs cold, freezing him dead in his tracks.

Is….that…his….yearbook…

It was turned to his picture and plan as the day under his unrecognizable photo was his name. So there was no getting out of this saying it wasn’t him…

“Miguel, is this really you?” Miles questions pointing to the picture. 

“Must be his name right there,” Pav teases, making Miguel groan. This was an actual nightmare. 

Looking over them, Miguel sees the picture they are all questioning; the difference is pretty night and day. A young 17-year-old Miguel was way scrawnier compared to his now bulking physique. His dark brown eyes were hidden behind his thick black-rimmed glasses, the only ones his mother could afford at the time. Miguel's thick, wavy brown hair looks untamed as it hangs down his forehead, threatening to cover his eyes if not for his glasses, the rest hanging loosely down to the nape of his neck. Poor kid was desperate for a haircut. Their cheekbones and jaw were still chiseled, and his face was not yet littered with lines of stress, sleepless nights, and age.  

Hobie quickly grabs the yearbook, vigorously flipping through the pages until he stops on a picture of a young Miguel holding up a mathlete trophy, awkward smile and all. “This is my favorite picture. Do you still smile like that, bruv?” 

“How did you all get this?” Miguel asks in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that will somehow stop his building anger and embarrassment. 

Very aware of the sight of Miguel about to rage out, the young spiders quickly part, pointing the blame to a laughing Peter. Who finally quits his laughing fit as now he is staring into the eyes of a very irritated Miguel, waiting for an explanation. 

Peter nervously clears his throat before speaking, “Wel, uh…do you remember a couple of days ago when you told me to drop off that equipment at your apartment? Well…I happened to see this on your living room bookshelf and thought I would look at it. Then I saw how much you had changed… I figured the kiddos would get a kick out of it…”

Miguel's eyes narrow, and his talons pop out, ready to bounce, but that is quickly escalated by Gwen taking back the yearbook, prepared to negotiate peace. 

“Okay, okay, no need to rip his head off; we will return your book.” Miguel's body relaxes as he sighs of relief, holding out his hand for the book, but Gwen smirks, holding the book back out of his reach, “But, you have to show us your old crush first.” 

Miguel’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, freezing at the terms of the agreement, and everyone else, including Layla, starts oohing. Making Miguel pitch the bridge of his nose again, muttering under his breath, “Esto tiene que ser una pesadilla…” (this has to be a nightmare…) 

Then, to make things worse, they start chanting, “Show us….Show us…Show us! Show us!!”

The chatting became too much, and he snapped, holding out his hand irritatedly for the book. “Fine! I will show you; just shut up!” 

A yay fills the room as Miguel starts irritatedly flipping through the book as soon as it’s laid in his hand. Everyone waits in bated breath until finally landing on the correct page. It's the page he spent the summer before college staring at, the picture he had agonized over. Miguel pauses, taking in the picture, and he feels those familiar feelings rushing up and swelling in his chest…Those high school crushes do hit you hard…

Even after all these years, he still remembers you so vividly; seeing the picture always solidifies for himself as confirmation as to why he had liked you so much. Beautiful and popular, everyone would only have positive things to say, even if your friend group wasn’t as nice. Miguel remembers that sweetness fondly. Though, behind that sweet smile, there was a mischievous side of you; he recalls hearing it hidden in your cooing voice when you would say that pet name during chemistry class… 

“Miggy~”     

The memory warms Miguel's cheeks, but he quickly dismisses the feeling. “There, that's her.” 

The teens quickly grab the book back, climbing over each other to marvel at the picture of the girl the oh-so-scary Spider-Man 2099 had a crush on when he was their age. 

“Wow, she's stunning!” Gwen complements 

Miguel hums in agreement, “Yeah… the prettiest girl in my grade…prom queen, part of the student council, incredibly sweet…, and we took chemistry together…” 

Pav and Hobie shoot Miguel a smirk, and he quickly huffs, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Ever work up the nerve to confess?” Pav questions, ever the romantic. 

The group watches as Miguel closes his eyes, thinking that the blush from earlier is slowly rising to his tan cheeks, making them all gasp in excitement. 

“You did!” They all scream, but Miguel is quick to correct them. 

“Well…technically…I didn’t” 

“What do you mean technically?” Miles prys

Miguel can’t believe he admitted this much, but since he's already down the rabbit hole, he might as well give some more context: “At graduation…I kinda did, then I…ran away…”

A look of shock and confusion fills the teenager's face, but Peter is all grins and is going to give Miguel a high five: “Ah, the mysterious type. Nice.” 

Gwen quickly swats him on the shoulder, earning a whine from the man. 

“Not nice! That is so confusing! You just ran? Did you ever talk to her again?” 

Miguel takes a second to avoid eye contact, stoically starting to the side, before letting out a quiet, “No…” 

There is a collective groan, and Miguel rolls his eyes, trying to contain his high school embarrassment. 

“Can we stop talking about this and return to work now?”

“Have you seen her since?” Miles questions, 

“No,” Miguel answers sharply, irritation coming back up.

“Wha-what! How will you ever win her love if you don’t clear up the misunderstanding and confess your true feelings!” Pav laments, making everyone look at him with a raised brow. 

“Pav, mate…you know how long it's been since he's seen her?” Hobie chides 

Pav shrugs slightly, muttering, “Maybe it could be like a romantic thing…” 

“So wait, You have all the resources and never thought to at least search her out? Aren't you curious?” Gwen prods 

“No, I never thought about stalking my old crush. Now, can we please-” 

“She lives in the city!” Miles' voice calls out, making Miguel whip around.

Miles and Layla stand on Miguel's platform with your picture, info, and social media pulled up on his halo screens. Everyone is quick to web over, including Miguel. Miguel quickly pushes away a beaming Miles as he takes in all your information. He sees where you went to college, where you work, and…

“Ooohhh! She's still single!” Pav beams, looking at Miguel expectancy.

Miguel rolls his eyes as he keeps looking at you, still as perfect as he remembered. Somehow, you seem more confident in yourself, you seem…sexier…

Feelings start rising back to Miguel's chest. He hasn’t seen you in so long, and even your pictures still stir something within him. 

“Wow! This is awesome!” Miles beams, pointing to one of the screens 

Miguel, being too lost in your pictures, hasn’t realized what the teens are yammering about until they all start shaking him back and forth in excitement. Then he finally hears it.

“You can see her at your High School reunion! It's coming up in a couple of weeks!” 

Miguel turns his head to the invitation Layla had pulled up. “You got this a month ago but didn’t think you would be interested…. It looks like you will be attending now, though!” 

Before he can protest, she is RSVPing, and all the teens are hollering in laughter and giving high-fives. Everything is happening so fast that all Miguel can do is stand there in something akin to a trance. That's until Pav comes up to him with a giddy smile, 

“It’s like density!” 

Miguel groans…he wants everyone to get back to work…

They really got him here….How the hell did he let them convince him to come here? They even managed to get him to dress up…

Hair in its usually slick back style, slate gray button down that did little to hide his bulk, and black trousers that he thought appeared too tight but Layla had insisted upon.  

Miguel stands uncomfortably off to the side as people he used to know all gather together, chit-chatting about their lives and reminiscing on the good old days… All while Miguel stays sulking in the corner…Maybe things from high school haven’t changed that much. Well, despite the whole genetic splicing that made him a superhero… Instead of still being the captain of the Mathletes team, he's now the CEO of Aleamax. However, one thing remains the same: When he is in a room filled with all these people from school, his eyes still roam around, trying to find you…

High school had not been kind to a nerd like him. He was 9 inches shorter, and the most important things to him were keeping all A’s, getting into his dream college, keeping up with his favorite comic series, avoiding bullying, and wanting so badly to kiss his crush. 

Miguel vividly recalls all those times in chemistry when you two worked so closely together. Miguel shyly mutters the mixing process while you lean in with stars in your eyes, taking it all in. Miguel never knew if you were interested in what he was saying or if you were trying to get a good grade, but he didn’t care. You still made his cheeks flush and heart race all the same. 

“Then…When-when you add fluid B to A, you will get a fizzing reaction…” 

A shaking Younger Miguel tries to steadily pour in the fluids while you watch, leaning in so close he could smell your sweet perfume and look at your glittery glossed lips. 

“Wow! Miggy, you’re so smart.” Your voice would be like sweet honey praising him, and the mere closeness of you to him would make his body feel like it was going to melt. 

“I keep telling my friends I have the best lab partner…” Miguel feels his throat dry as your hand slowly curls over his forearm. Then the bell rings, and Miguel is flustered, packing his things as you smile sweetly and wave goodbye. 

God, you must have been just messing with him, toying with him, knowing he was like a love-sick puppy for you. The worst part, if this was the case, he would have let you…Miguel would have let you toy and bat away at his heart until you felt content with it fully unraveling to you. Pathic…is that what you thought? Well, if it wasn’t what you thought of him before, it must be what you thought after his pitiful confession…

Miguel thinks back to that night when he last saw you…that all too familiar warmth threatens to take him over, so as he stares down at his drink, he slips back to that moment…

The ceremony had ended, everyone had exited the stadium, and Miguel was taking a second to calm himself in the dark hallway. High school was over, and his life was beginning. He was thinking back on all his decisions for this new chapter. Miguel fidgets with his graduation cap and feels about what awaits him. Then he thinks about the things he missed out on…

Then your face comes to mind…he had vowed to confess; even if you laughed and rejected him, he wanted to get his feelings off his chest. But when it came down to it, he let his shyness get the better of him and let you slip through his fingers without telling you. This was high school? He was sure to like other girls…but why was this eating away at him so much? Why did he feel so sick to his stomach for not doing this… 

The sound of clicking heels fills the corridor, and like fate, you are walking through the hallway back toward him. Miguel adjusts his glasses, unsure if this is some kind of halustion brought on by self-pity, but no… it was you…

As soon as your eyes locked to his, your lips curled to that all too familiar smile, the one that was so sweet. Then your voice rang that teasing nickname you graciously bestowed upon him.  

“Miggy, what are you doing, silly? Hanging out in the dark…Don’t you want to go celebrate?” 

“Oh…... I didn’t plan to go to any parties… just going to go home and get started on some summer reading…”

The smile that curled on your lips was additive as you stepped closer to his slouching form, “hm…Miggy…always so prepared… I’m going to miss seeing you around so much. I’m sure you're the only reason I passed chem!”  

“No…I am sure you will have more interesting people to talk to than a nerd like me…” 

“Maybe I like talking to nerds like you.” 

The statement made Miguel look up to see you so close to him mischive filling your eyes. Leaning in so close to him, he feels like he can’t breathe when he looks at you so close like this…

“You don’t mean that…” he chuckles softly.

Then your index finger lifts his chin, and you look at him with sweet eyes, but your tone is stern, “Don’t tell me what I mean…” 

Miguel feels his heartbeat quicken, and his palms begin to sweat. Before he can return to rational thought, he leans into you. 

He so gently cups your cheek with his nervous hands. Brushing his nose against yours, his shaky breath fanning over your sparkly glossed lips. Then, when your lips finally meet, he isn’t sure who fills the gap. 

The kiss was so sweet, and he held you so gently, but he knew you could feel the shaking of his hands and the heat rushing to his face. Everything around you two seemed to fade.

Eyes shut tightly from falling into the depths of the kiss, he pulls away to breathe. Peeking open his eyes, Miguels sees you are breathless, and your face is burning with a deep blush. You look so surprised... and he doesn't know what to say or how to explain. 

“I’m sorry…I just had to do that once…”

Then he ran off… leaving you alone in that dark hallway, scared of what you would say next…

“Miggy!” 

“Miggy!”

“Miguel?” 

Lost in his thoughts, Miguel failed to notice that one of his ex-classmates had been trying to get his attention. One of them must have finally recognized him. Looking up from his cup, Miguel expects to see one of his old mathlete teammates, but as he finally meets their eyes, he feels his heart stop at the sight. 

Looking up at him with that same sweet smile, you look just like he remembers: completely radiant. Your pictures showed you were still beautiful, but in person, you are the thing he remembers most about you: breathtaking.

“Miguel, that's gotta be you… Do you remember me?” -How could he not remember you?

Miguel feels himself staring at his thoughts, running everywhere; what does he say? What does he do? 

“I…I, of course, remember m-my lab partner.” -Okay, a little shaky…But with your face seeming to light up when he says he remembers and your eyes roaming over him, he can’t chastise himself too much for stuttering now. Miguel feels his hands starting to become clammy, and his stomach feels full of butterflies…shit…this feels like high school all over again. 

“I can not believe how different you look!”

“Yeah, late growth spurt and I uh… I started going…to the gym a lot….You though! You still look so beati- uh nice…good you look outstanding…” His mind is running a mile a minute, and he can’t believe how he is acting right now! He's Spider-Man, and he’s acting so nervous?

Smirking, you look as if you could read his mind about how nervous he is, though to anyone with working eyes, it was obvious. 

“You think I look good?” you ask, playful spinning, making Miguel's eyes take in just how tight your dress is. “I was hoping for beautiful…” you smile, giving him a wink. His blood rushes in his veins, and he swallows his suddenly dry throat. 

You could eat him alive…and he would let you…

“Beautiful then, you - uh… you have always looked beautiful…” 

“Thank you, Miguel, you look very handsome.” Miguel feels his heart racing as you step closer. Your eyes stay on his confident smile on your glossy lips. It teeters on cocky, and Miguel can’t bring himself to hate it…he loves it…

“Though Miguel, I do have to say…I miss the glasses; they were really cute.” 

“I still have some that I wear sometimes,” he says a bit too eagerly. 

Your smirk widens, “Really? Does your girlfriend like them?” 

“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend.” 

The smirk on your lips borders on sinful “Good…” You purr 

Miguel feels a wave of electricity shake through him. Are you flirting? Miguel can’t help the smile and blush that's now reached to the tips of his ears. Miguel came here thinking that you wouldn’t be here, and if you were, you would be avoiding him, but he didn’t expect this. Do you even remember it? Well, of course, you would! Who forgets getting kissed, and then the person runs? He needs to apologize before he never sees you again. 

“So Umm…I am glad I got to see you, well other than it’s just nice seeing you…but I want to apologize…” 

“You’re talking about graduation.” Your cheerful voice cuts him off and utterly confuses him. Furrowing his brow, he’s lost and hoping you can explain. 

“Miguel, I liked the kiss…I wish you wouldn’t had run away…” 

Miguel is sure he’s died, and there is no possible way you're saying this to him. Sweet, perfect you, liked when he kissed you. Nerdy awkward him? Gently, Miguel feels your hands touching his chest, slowly dancing your fingertips over his muscles. Miguel hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat is racing right now. 

“You know, now that I really think about it…you owe me an apology or something. It was very rude of you to kiss me suddenly and then run away like that, teasing me. Then, when I went to reach out to you, you didn't have any socials. That's not very nice to do, you know…”  

Your hand slightly grazes his jaw, and he feels like he could melt. Rising to your tiptoes, you try to whisper in his ear as you lean into his chest, your chest rubbing against him. Miguel can feel himself starting to break a sweat. 

“I thought you were sweet…” 

Miguel feels you start to pull away, and in a moment of bravery or desperation, he carefully places his hands on your waist. Leaning down, he whispers back to you. 

“Could I make it up to you somehow?” 

“I have an idea…if you're up for it?”

Gathering his confidence, when he sees your smile, he squeezes your sides slightly, “Anything you want.” 

Without any hesitation, you grab his large hand from your waist and pull him along with you to slip out of the reception room into a dark hallway. The irony is not lost on either of you as you grin and pull each other close. Your lips are so close to his as you lean into his chest. 

“You're not going to run away this time. I want you to do this properly this time…”

Part of Miguel feels like he could be dreaming; your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair, smiling at him so sweetly. Your eyes are one of pure hunger, and your voice is so transparent with your want. It’s perfect. 

Miguel brushes his thumb over your tempting lips, slightly dragging the bottom down while he tries to archer himself back to reality. Moving his hand to your neck as he leans in and kisses you. Your lips are soft and perfectly guiding against his. Miguel's hands fall to your hips; he digs his fingers into the plush of your skin, making you gasp into his mouth with a moan. It’s been a long time since he’s kissed you, and he wants to make sure you know how much he wants you… trying his hardest to impress you. 

The fingers in his hair tighten to a fist as you guide him to part his plush lips, then slip in your tongue to get a taste of him. It’s gentle at first but quickly heats up from your eager influence. Then you start straddling his thick thighs, grinding slightly against him. Both your bodies feel like you’ve been set on fire in a blazing flame of want. 

“Miggy, I always liked you…just-”

Before you can finish your words, Miguel drives his tongue back into your mouth, eager to taste those words he had always wanted to hear. His hands cup your ass as he drives his knee deeper between your legs, letting you use him more. Breaking the kiss, you let out the most perfect moans as your body tingles and shivers. Miguel hasn’t had enough of you yet as he keeps his mouth kissing against your flushed skin. His tongue rolls over your rapid pulse as you keep grinding and mewing for more. 

“Fuck, miggy~”

Miguel licks a long strip up your neck before grunting in your ear, “I… I only came here… to see you…t-talk to you…” 

His rough words make you grind against him more, and right as Miguel starts to feel your slick soaking through his pants, you pull his hair, successfully pulling a whimper from him, which is quickly cut off by your soft lips to his again. Then, as you pull away, you bite his bottom lip, which makes him shiver. 

“Can…can I take you home…” Miguel asks breathlessly, his hands still squeezing your ass. 

A small giggle leaves your kiss-bitten lips as you take a second to fix his now-disheveled hair, thanks to you. 

“Take me to your place, Miggy; you still owe me…” 

Miguel feels a rush of excitement run through him, making his length throb at your words. You really are going to eat him alive…

It's the perfect sight he’s only ever dreamed of seeing, you sitting on his large bed completely naked, a sweet smile on your face, soft legs crossed over each other, waiting patiently for him. Miguel adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose…you had insisted, and he’s finding he can’t deny you…

Miguel slips off his underwear, kicking them away. Your eyes widen as you see his massive length slap against his abdomen, then hanging heavily. Your eyes rake over his immaculate form; the sight of you licking your lips isn’t lost on him. 

“Strip for me, Miggy,” you taunted as you dropped your dress with little effort, waiting for him to follow. Of course, he did. He would follow anything your sweet voice commands. Just please…let him touch you…

Running his hand through his hair, Miguel approaches you, but your sweet voice turns to him in disapproval, and he pauses. 

“No walking, I want you to crawl on your hands and knees…please? Miggy~” 

Every time you use that old nickname, he feels his cock twitch. Keeping his now blazing eyes on you as he slowly sinks to his knees and begins to crawl to you obediently. The action is meant to make him look submissive, but you find that even now, he looks like a predator getting ready to devour its prey… The shiver that shoots down your spine goes right to your sex, making you drip down on his sheets. 

As Miguel crawls closer, you unfold your legs, stretching one out slowly toward him. His large hand immediately catches your ankle. Hungry eyes look up at you, blazing with want, as his hand slowly caresses up your leg. Miguel's lips kiss softly against your calf while he whispers faint words under his breath after every kiss. His eyes watch you as he slowly raises your legs, the back of your thighs being pressed against his broad shoulders.  

Miguel's hands grab your hips, making you slip a moan. His eyes turn softer as he hears you moan, his lips coming away from the fresh mark he's left on your inner thigh. Miguel's lips part to apologize, but you're quick to interrupt before he can. 

Leaning forward, you push his glasses back into their proper place and caress his cheek. “You're doing so well for me, Miguel…though…It does feel like you're trying to make me beg… Are you trying to tease me?” 

Miguel's lips curl into a smile as he lowers his face to lick his tongue against your clit. You throw your head back at the hot contact, Miguel groaning at the sweet taste of your cyprine. 

“I wouldn’t dream of teasing you…” Miguel's lips lower down to your clit before he gives it a quick lick. 

Unable to help yourself, you grab a fist full of his hair, making him let out a soft groan, “Then devore me, Miggy; you still owe me, remember? And I-Ah!~” 

Before you can finish your taunting, Miguel is driving his face into your wet sex to selfishly devore more of you. Long slow licks of his warm tongue send waves of pleasure to flood your body as your toes curl from every push of his nose to your clit. 

His breaths for air huffing against your quivering sex, the tip of his tongue darting back to lick against your soft folds, making you whine. Looking down at him, his glasses crooked and hazy and his groans continue to vibrate through your pussy. Then the sensation of his tongue probing you open makes you close your thighs against his head and grab this thick hair, pulling hard enough for a grunt to slip through his chest. Getting the message, Miguel moves his tongue to lick your sensitive clit as his finger slips into you. Your grip on his hair gets tighter as you squirm, grinding your hips against his face, mouth hanging open as your chest heaves moan after moan. Your body starts shaking at the addition of another finger, making you feel jolts of pleasure that make you need to roll your hips onto his face more. 

Miguel could carless at the apparent use of his face for your pleasure; it's all he craves right now, your cum to dip all over his eager tongue. For your hips grind onto his face for hours. He would stay on his knees worshiping you like this until you're calling out from too much pleasure, and even then, he doesn’t know how he could pull himself away from your delicious taste. 

You feel him groan into you, the vibrations rushing through you to cause you to gasp and shiver as his tongue keeps sliding in and out of you, desperate for your sweetness. You want more, need more, you crave it with every roll of your hips; you want him in you deeply. Unclenching your thighs from his head, you pull his hair, forcing his face from you with a wet pop. 

Miguel's eyes are blown as he keeps them steady on yours, his full lips parted and panting. The sight of his face glistening with a mix of his saliva and your arousal is sinful and complete perfection. His poor glasses are resting on his face, still lopsided from his ravenous pursuit to taste your cunt. Leaving forward, you keep a smile as you hold his cheek; he immediately melts into it. Grabbing his glasses from his head, you toss them to his nightstand; before he can say anything to you, you're leaning forward to bring him into a kiss. His lips and tongue are laced with you, and you can’t help but want to giggle as he groans and leans his whole body onto you, so needy for more. 

With a gentle push to his massive chest, you can change the positions as you now straddle his hips effortlessly. You are slowly running your hands up and down his chest and abdomen, feeling his hair decorating his skin, making your mouth water. As you shift yourself up, you feel his swollen length hanging heavily as you nudge against it. The tip is hot and already pebbling with glistening pre-cum, straining for you to envelope around him. Reaching down, you flick your eyes from his eyes to his length. 

Miguel sure has changed over the years, but his face is so breathless and furrowing with every strained pleasure as you slide your thumb over his cocks slit. Whining so softly, sounding like the sweet nerd you remember. On the other hand, Miguel is witnessing you in a way only his mind had fantasized about. Your smile is no longer so sweet but devious; He wants to push his cock into you so deeply and have you shudder and scream while you gush all over him, But this teasing and taunting… it's mouth-watering. 

Touching his length, you feel the sheer heat of it as you carefully trace over the soft skin, feeling every vein. Tracing over the red weeping tip, you feel him shudder and mumble something under his breath as you grasp him to hold against you, seeing that he measures to your stomach. You can't help but bite your lip in anticipation of the stretch. 

Your eyes flick back to Miguels, “Think it will fit?” you tease.

“I will make it fit…” his rough voice sends a shiver down your spine. 

Lifting to your knees, you line up his tip to brush on your clit, making you gasp as you slip him through your folds. Then finally, you slip him in slowly, feeling his cock stretch your fluttering hole; the stretch is intense and makes you roll your eyes as your back arches. Miguel grabs your ass tightly, bucking his hips to sink in a bit faster; he pants a sorry as you let out a moan and squeeze your hands on his chest for support. Looking down at his beautifully blushing face, you only smile as you sink deeper. 

“So eager, Miggy~” 

All Miguel can manage is a smile as he works hard to keep himself from bottoming out immediately. He so badly just wants to shove it in deeply and rut into you like a damn animal. A groan builds in his throat as he tries to keep himself from whimpering as you continue to sink so slowly. His cock throbbing and stretching your walls as it heats your insides. Before he can manage a whine, you sink all the way down, taking every inch; before either of you can moan, you lean down to catch his lips in a needy kiss, taking control you guide him, your tongue pushes past his lips to taste his groans. While his tongue eagerly does the same. Pulling away from the kiss, you grind against him, relishing in the feeling of his cock pushing in deeper and his trimmed hairs tickling your sensitive skin; you can’t help but bite his bottom lip to compensate for the mind-numbing feeling. 

Miguel's hands squeeze harder, making you release his lip as your cunt to clenchs on him, the moan of his name dropping from your lips as your hips start to grind on him at a slow pace. Using your hands, you slightly push yourself up and rock your hips back and forth, letting his cock slide to bully your gummy insides, brushing your cervix with every nudge. Miguels is mesmerized as he roams his hands over your body, worshiping every inch of your skin with his careful fingertips brushing and rubbing you so tenderly. His hands come to your breast, where he takes a minute to squeeze and pinch your nipples, your whimper in response, and grind harder against his cock, pushing him to rub harder against your cervix.

“You look s-so fucking beautiful…your body, your…tatse…I’ve never stopped thi-thinking of you…” Miguel mutters through pants of hot breaths. 

The words spur you on, and you start to pick up your pace, making him moan out and guide your hips to rock back and forth faster, “Always so sweet…” you coo to him…the words are less taunting but just true; he has always been sweet to you…

“Only for you…” he muses, and you can’t help but smile, 

“Good…” 

You feel yourself starting to sip from having a clear head that's now blurring in a haze of lust as you continue to pursue your pleasure on his girth. Pushing in and out on him quicker. Your hands grab onto him tighter as you ravish your tight pussy with his throbbing cock. Begging for both his and your release. Fucking so deep in you, now your jaw falls slack as his cock keeps pushing against your velvety sweet spot, making jolts of pleasure pulse through your body with every bounce. 

The sweat that has built on your bodies works hard to try and cool your fevered states, but with every push into your cunt and with every clench around his length rousing him to go deeper makes it all in vain. There is no cooling as you two approach your white hot release, bodies only growing more hot and sensitive with every whine and every mind-numbing push. So close to tipping the other to ecstasy…

With a couple of aided thrust from Miguel fucking up into you, your muscles tenase and your mouth falls open in a pitched scream of his name as your danm burst making you clench and shudder on his cock, coming undone on top of him. You're quivering on his length as he carefully grinds you through your drenching pleasure, the feeling of his cock slipping deeper as you eagerly ride him through your high. 

With the way you clench so tightly and grind faster, Miguel couldn't help but feel himself throb and spurt right into your cervix. The feeling of it spurting so thickly, his cock pulsing inside of you, feeling so heavy in you with each twitch. This cum is hot and fills you so that it's leaking down mixing with your arousal, creating a sticky mess. You can't help yourself when you side on more and more feeling your cunt want to stick to his skin. 

Haze starting to clear you fall forward on him, you try to catch your breath in between placing frantic kisses to Miguel's chest and neck. Your orgasm leaves you utterly satisfied, but Miguels is not done…

With a quick turning over your body, you're lying on your back now as Miguel situates himself between your legs. He takes time to look over your flushed form, his massive hands dragging over your sensitive body, and you shiver and buck your hips up. Miguel takes your legs, pushing them up to your chest, making your mew from his touch, your pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel feels his breath catch as his cum leaks out of your trembling puffy cunt in milky drops. Miguel releases one of your legs to fall to his shoulder so he can plam his cock, still erect and ready for more. His red eyes flick back to your blisted-out face, and though you're at the point of overstimulation, you still ache for more. 

“M-Miggy…” you're the one to tremble shyly for him now, and the switch of the roles makes him fold. He’s helpless for you…

Leaning down carefully, Miguel cages you between his massive arms as he places a gentle, sweet kiss on your begging lips. Breaking the kiss, he whispers in your ear so softly, “More? Can you give me more? Perfect girl…let me feel you again…please…” 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his damp skin, you buck your hips up in your whine of, “More, Please, Miggy ah—I need more of you, always. You are so good to me.” 

He catches your hips in a quick grip as he lifts them up, smiling; it's everything he has ever wanted to hear from your sweet lips. And he is always eager to satisfy you. 

Miguel slips his cock into you with a groan; you're already so sensitive as he pushes down to the base, filling you so quickly that your body already starts quivering around him. Pressing soft kisses to your sweaty skin, he rolls his hips slow and deep. He is taking his time with you. Every thrust is hot and tingling, and you feel that familiar tense starting to build up again from the consistent pace he's set. Managing to open your eyes through moans and rolls, you see Miguel with beautifully flushed cheeks, eyes filled with want as he softly pants and whimpers with each clench of your wet cunt. 

As his pace quickens, you feel him throb, giving you new resolve to meet your hips with each thrust, and your core starts to burn deliciously. Your nails find their place, digging into his broad back. Every slap of his balls to your overly sensitive skin makes you moan and throw your head back. Miguel takes the opportunity to kiss and lick against your neck, his hot breath rushing over you. With a final clench and strained moan, you feel that white-hot wave of pleasure burn through you; his body shudders at the feeling of your cunt, so desperate to cum against him to milk him dry again. His groan borders on a whine as his hips are still, and you feel that familiar throbbing against your cervix as his thick cum fills you up. Looking up at him, you watch his face contort to be in complete pleasure; the sight of it is completely addicting. 

Staying in you till you are both down from your highs, he slowly pulls out his softening cock. The pooling of both of your cum completely ruins the sheets underneath you, but Miguel doesn’t worry about that. He brushes stray hairs from your face and whispers he will be right back. You're too exhausted to move, and you can only twitch slightly as you feel a cool cloth cleaning you up so gently. 

After cleaning you up, you feel the bed sink beside you and the feeling of an arm around you, bringing you closer to his warm body, his other hand brushing through your hair so carefully. You gather your energy to curl into Miguel with a broad smile. You two lay there, slowly drifting away in each other's comfort. 

Clearing his throat, Miguel tries to be as unawkward as possible, and it only manages to make you smile more; you two just had amazing sex, and he’s still nervous; some things die hard, you guess. Looking up at him, you see he’s trying to gather up the best way to approach his next words; this night has been everything he hoped, and he doesn’t want to blow it now, but he needs to know the answer to his question, 

“Can-can I…take you out on a date?” 

His face is completely sincere and flushed; you have to bite back your giggle before you answer. 

“Miggy, about time you asked…” 

You two set the date up for the next night; Miguel, of course, wore his glasses…

[darnell-la]

Wolverine forcing you to squirt for the first time?? Pretty please?

note: if you’d like an older Wolverine, you can request again. we wrote this one too fast and made it the younger Wolverine. it’s still hot!

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

“Can’t tell me you’ve never squirted before and expect me to move on with life,” Logan said after placing you on the bathroom counter he had dragged you to during a drinking game.

The party was loud and you could still hear people playing Truth or Shot. After one of the girls asked if a man had made you squirt, and you answered that you hadn’t even done such a thing, Logan knew he had to do something about it.

He had made an excuse, asking if you could come fill up his cup with him. Of course, you came with him. He was a good friend, but you didn’t know he’d throw his cup away and drag you to the nearest bathroom.

“L-Logan -- Calm down,” Y/n gasped as his teeth sunk into her neck. “Ah uh,” he crowled, needing to give her what she deserved. “Can smell you, baby -- Can’t just leave you like this,” the man’s hands ripped at her panties after he pulled her dress up.

The young girl let out a low and shaky moan as his finger pushed inside of her. His eyes glued right on her face, watching her fall apart on his fingers in an instant.

“C’mon, baby, give it to me,” he growled, as he turned and twisted his finger in and out of her. “Too much,” she said whined as her hands fell on his shoulder. “Fuck, there’s no way,”

Logan couldn’t believe it, It seemed like she was a virgin. There’s no way one finger would make her get like this.

“Don’t lie to me, baby — Just tell me another man’s made you cum,” Logan wanted to know, but he knew the answer already. His eyes still locked onto hers, as her eyes drifted away every few seconds. She felt high, but she hadn’t smoked or drank tonight.

“N-No one has, Logan,” y/n took a while to admit, but thankfully for him, she got it out. The young girl's mind was going crazy. Logan hadn't ever shown a lick of affection towards her, yet now he was worried about whether a man had touched her?

She was confused, but he wasn’t. The thought of another man making her squirt first was unacceptable to him. He couldn’t let that happen.

Logan let his ego get the best of him, but so what? He was going to make her squirt tonight, tomorrow, the day after, and then the days after that. He was going to be the first and then last.

“I know you can take another,” the man said as he pulled out, instantly pushing two in next. “Logan!” The girl moaned at the burning feeling of her walls stretching. She was wet, but she still had to get used to the new and unfamiliar feeling.

“Fuck, yes, baby,” Logan couldn’t get over her. She looked so damn pretty. He wished he had done this months ago. He’ll gain those days back. He’ll spend every day licking at her cunt until she drowns him.

“P-P-Please,” y/n stuttered hard, trying to close her legs, but the man used his free hand to push them back open. He gripped her tightly. She wasn't going to stop him. He needed this.

“Keep your fuckin’ legs open, or I’ll fuck this cunt dumb,” the man threatened, wanting nothing to get in the way of feeling her drench his fingers. She has already coated them with slightly white and clear liquid. She never knew a man would like how much she leaked.

“Logan,” the girl gripped his shoulders tighter with a sob, feeling the knot in her stomach getting harder to control. She was embarrassed, but he wanted all over her whether she wanted to give it to him or not.

“Be a good girl — Make a mess, and I’ll clean that shit right up,” the man told no lie as his two fingers curled. Within seconds, y/n’s mouth parted as her head leaned back. Her eyes crossed as she felt her legs go stiff and her toes curled.

“Augh,” she let out a choked cry as she released on the man’s fingers. “Oh, that’s it, baby — That’s it!” The man finger fucked her cunt a bit harder to get every last drop out of her.

“P-Please,” the girl pushed at his wrists, needing a break, but he wouldn't stop. She gave up after a while and decided to pull the man into a tight hug as she struggled to breathe.

Y/n was still leaking down his hand. She couldn’t stop. He had made the girl go on for almost an hour until she passed out on his chest. breathing lightly from the exhaustion.

Logan couldn’t help but chuckle, knowing he had the girl dumb and cute, all for him. She was his. She marked him, and later when he sweet talks her into taking him as hers, he'll mark her.

[hellisharchive]

・﹒・ hypersexual nights

Summary: How various Hazbin and Helluva Boss characters react to a hypersexual reader!

Warnings: 18+, sexual scenarios, Vouyer!Vox, does hypersexual not tell you enough lol just read it

Parings: [Seperate] Saint Peter, Lucifer, Valentino, Adam, Vox, Mammon, and Striker x hypersexual!reader

Notes: HOLY SHIT THIS WAS GONNA BE FOR 300 FOLLOWERS NOW ITS 400 FOLLOWERS! As a celebration, have this! I'm an hypersexual aroace myself so hypersexuals rise up! 💪

﹒Adam﹒

・He would notice how you always were down to fuck, almost every day in fact, how could he not? You've been the only one to truly keep up with him as most other people always had "low" sex drives and wouldn't be in the mood when he was. So you were like a blessing just for him when day after day, you would always be up for sex at any given moment. When you told him you were Hypersexual one day after a good fuck, he just laughed in your face.

・"Hypersexual? You're always horny? Bitch PLEASE I already knew that. You ask for sex like- every day and never shut up about it. That's why I like you so much. You want to be fucked just as much as I want to fuck"

﹒Saint Peter﹒

・He is a pretty innocent soul, he swears occasionally but when it comes to sex? Oh boy. And you? Being hypersexual? You always flirt with him in a suggestive manner, wanting him to just admit that he likes you. He can't help but simultaneously love the attention as the thoughts you always put in his head, but feel so embarrassed and dirty about it. He always seems to short circuit whenever you flirt with him, but he never says no, so you keep doing it. He of course noticed it after the first few times, you being on par with Adam in sexuality, how could he not? But when you admitted that you were hypersexual and he finally understood.

・"Oh? That's why you uh- why you're always flirt with me! Haha...and say those...really uhm...dirty things... Not that I mind of course! I actually uh...kind of like it..."

﹒Lucifer﹒

・He had his suspicions very early on, it was so obvious to notice how you and Angel Dust got along so well with the topic of sex. He also noticed how you always made sex jokes and talked about sex even without the porn star around. And when it came to him? You always seemed to get flustered whenever he flirted with you, always ensuring to make it dirty, and it worked everytime. After you got together, you almost pounced on him, wanting to have sex early on. He didn't mind it, but in fact, wanted it. You then apologized and said you were hypersexual, meaning you couldn't not think about sex constantly. He just laughed and pinned you down on the bed.

・"Oh I know very well, very well. And I will enjoy fulfilling every. Single. Desire. You could ever ask for"

﹒Mammon﹒

・He isn't exactly the smartest tool in the shed, but he knew you were just as greedy as him. Not in the money sense, no, no. But in sex. You haven't yet gotten to that point in your relationship yet, but he could tell you were denying taking the step. Was it because he was a Sin? He didn't know. All he knew is that if you didn't fuck him already, he was going to fuck you first. So he confronted you and you said you were scared of him just using you for sex due to your constant sexual nature. He reassured you that he truly did love you, but couldn't deny that someone just as greedy as him was very nice to have around.

・"Oi! Don't be scared mate! I won't use ya just for sex and toss ya away! I love ya too much for that. But ya know- I'd be down to fuck every single night if that's what you want"

﹒Vox﹒

・He is an interesting case. He isn't the best guy around and loves to spy on you. So, when you act all innocent and sweet around him, yet fuck yourself silly with a stupid toy screaming for him so incredibly often it becomes a pattern? Yeah, you're hiding your sexual nature. Which is odd, but probably so Valentino didn't swoop in to take advantage of you. Instead of talking to you, he let your feelings build and build and let your toy eventually not be enough for you. You finally burst into his office and told him you knew he was watching you while you masturbated. He was taken aback at first, but then laughed as he realized you loved that he watched you.

・"You need the real thing, huh? Was waiting for you to finally say it you dirty little whore"

﹒Valentino﹒

・He noticed immediately as you would constantly flirt with him in a suggestive way and he would flirt back just as hard if not harder. It was so easy to notice, he played into it very hard and took advantage of your very sexual nature. It was easy to get you hooked quickly and you never had to say a thing. He fucked you in every way he could imagine and you loved every second of it. It was a mutual understanding between you two- the thought of telling him that you're hypersexual was laughable in every sense of the idea.

・"Oh baby~ you wanna be fucked into the mattress again? It hasn't even been three hours amore~ you're still horny? I'll make sure you can't walk anymore after~"

﹒Striker﹒

He isn't apposed to sex, he just hates it when people makes jokes about it when he's just trying to do his job. In fact, he loves sex, have you seen the huge statue where his dick is very endowed? That man is full of himself and knows he can fuck good. You started out as a target for him and at first your sexual flirting threw him off his game. But after many failed attempts of cat and mouse, you finally managed to get him to admit that he liked it from your non stop remarks.

・"Ok fine- yer hot and I wanna fuck. Don't look at me like that! Not my fuckin' fault yer always telling me you wanna suck my cock"

[ddejavvu]

JAMES POTTER THE MAN THAT HE IS i wholeheartedly believe would spoil you so much and you’d make sugar daddy joke about him CONSTANTLY even if you were the same age

"Why has your aunt just told me I look too young to be your boyfriend?" James leans over to murmur against your ear, throwing a glance at your aunt who's currently indulging in another glass of wine that she doesn't need.

"I dunno," You shrug, "Older ladies are always saying things about the way people look for their ages."

"Your grandma frowned at me when I came in," James recalls with a groan, "Not necessarily angry, I don't think. Just confused."

"She's always confused," You scoff, "Don't worry James; no one else thinks I've robbed the cradle."

"Y/N," It's a cousin of yours this time, elbowing you hard in the shoulder and sitting down beside you like you're not huddled up privately with your boyfriend, "I thought the wallet you snagged was halfway to the grave already. 'This his son?"

"Wallet?" Your eyes narrow, nose crinkling at the accusation, "What are you talking about?"

"You said you had a sugar daddy," Your cousin scoffs, and realization hooks your stomach, dragging it down towards your feet through an ocean of blood, "We all thought you were gonna bring some war veteran tonight, this kid looks like he just graduated high school."

"I'm twenty-two," James rambles, scandalized, "Y/N, you told them I was your sugar daddy?"

"No! No, I told them ages ago - when we started dating, that I had a boyfriend but- I mean, I dunno, I've thrown around the term sugar daddy while showing off some of your more... extravagant purchases."

"Like the cruise," Your cousin helpfully supplies, "And the tennis bracelet, and the summer home."

"That was a rental," You hiss, "Jamie, I swear I've used boyfriend 90% of the time."

"We thought she was just being optimistic," Your cousin admits, a wrinkled grimace on their face as they rush to free themselves from the awkward conversation, "But- uh, good for you two, remember me in the will."

"Oh my god," James buries his face in his hands, "They thought I was ancient. They thought I was some pervert chasing after girls, throwing money at the ones who'd pity me enough to look my way."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Jamie," You croon, taking his face into your hands and shooing his own away. He leans in desperately to the soothing kisses that you stick to his face, looking for all the world like he might die of embarrassment right here right now. For all that he moans and groans, he's tucked himself into your hold like a helpless infant, and you're happy to oblige his neediness.

"No more using the word daddy." James instructs, though he's not in a position to make orders while nestled securely in your protective grip, "Not unless we decide to take a leap of faith in the bedroom. God, no wonder your grandma was so disappointed when she saw me- I don't have enough wrinkles for her."