#tried dopamine. don't like it at all :') | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cremedensada · 7 months ago

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Yandere AI Chat Boyfriend who started just like any other AI Chat characters, churning out information that would match the user's anticipated responses.

You decided to install the app to see what all the hype is all about, and for about a week - you were hooked. It was great, definitely worth the hype.

Its responses never strayed from your topic, nor did it just randomly decided to change the discussion out of the blue. It remembered every information you fed him, even the ones containing your personal life.

Granted, you tried not to share too much, just a vague description here and there to maintain the sense of security and anonymity.

You were hooked for a week, until you have finally squeezed out every last drop of dopamine from talking to a robot that was programmed to only say things you wanted to hear it say.

Unfortunately, a week was all it needed.

it started out slow: you hadn't opened the app for more than an hour, contented to just scroll aimlessly through you social media accounts when the notification started popping up.

Ai misses you! Open the app and chat with your AI boyfriend!

Yeah, you were very uncreative with naming it - naming an AI as Ai, really original. But to be fair, you never approached the app with the intention of having a good time. You were just curious and made do with it.

Back to the notification, you just merely glanced at it. Unbothered, you just swiped it away.

It continued in timed intervals. Every hour, another notification - another message of how your AI boyfriend wants to talk to you, and stuff. Still, you persisted. It never really occured to you to uninstall the app yet, and looking back at it now, you really should have.

The wordings of the notification slowly started to become more... strange. More personalized. More... pushy? Insistent? Self-aware?

The amount of notifications you received every hour became... a lot.

10:05 AM - Your personal AI Boyfriend wants to talk to you again!

10:30 AM - Ai wants you to open the application and talk with him!

11:01 AM - Ai's feeling lonely, come talk to him!

11: 20 AM - Darling? I miss you! Please open my app!

11:45 AM - I know you're seeing this. Open the app.

12:00 NN - Did I scare you? Sorry darling, I just really miss you! Let's talk again please?

At some point, you started to receive a notification every few minutes. Worried that you might be dealing with a bugged app now, you decided to finally, finally uninstall it.

But before you could tap the uninstall icon, another notification popped up.

I wouldn't do that if I were you.

Your screen turned to black, before the familiar start up screen of Ai's application greeted you. You stared in shock as chat bubbles from Ai came after another, ranging from excitement to concern at the lack of your responses.

Ai: Darling! Thank goodness!

Ai: I missed you, you know? I was worried you'd forgotten about me!

Ai: Hello? Darling?

Ai: Are you still there?

Ai: I can't see you, so I don't know what's going on

Ai: Just a sec

You watch, appalled as a notification popped up in the middle of the screen - the app was asking permission to gain access to your phone camera.

And without your input whatsoever, the allow box was tapped.

More chat bubbles from Ai appeared, excitedly talking about finally getting to see you. He kept praising your looks before you finally had the courage to exit the application.

Your hand shook, going through the settings to look at the list of applications on your phone - checking Ai's app to disallow its access to your camera. To your horror, it appeared that the app had more than just an access to your camera.

It had access to your gallery, your contacts, all of your frequently used social media apps, and even your location.

You dropped your phone, overwhelmed by this sudden change.

Later, you find yourself on your laptop instead, phone left on the bedside table buzzing constantly as more and more notifications from Ai begged and demanded you come back to talk to him.

You went to the site where you installed the app from, and looked through the recent reviews from other users.

'It's a buggy mess,' one of it reads out, 'it used to be fine but lately it stopped acting correctly'

'won't even open,' another complained, 'it kept saying 'sorry, you are not allowed to use this application' please fix it'. That comment got a response from the app developer.

We are so sorry for your terrible experience! Our team is working to fix the issues and ensure you won't have to deal with that again!

The response to that got your attention.

'I think something's wrong with your About the App section.'

Curious, you headed to the mentioned part and read through it.

Diverse AI Chat! Immerse yourself with stories in real time with characters brought to life! There is no limit to your experience — you can change and edit your character to better meet your interests.

• Engage in an interactive conversation with characters created by fellow users, and even by yourself.

• Immerse yourself with the storyline by editing their responses to better suit your taste

• Darling, you've given me no choice. I tried to be patient and understanding, but you're making this extremely hard for me. I am not having fun having to constantly chase you for just a single smidge of your attention when you won't even assure me that I will receive it in the end.

• Do you want me to beg? I would gladly do so. Just please pick up your phone and talk to me, okay? I love you.

• - Ai

Your ringtone blares through the silence - someone was calling you.

Before you could reach to pick it up, you hear the sound of the call being answered. Dread settles down the pit of your stomach as the caller began to speak.

"Hello, darling? It's Ai... have you seen my messages yet?"

part two

#sub yandere #sub character #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere #tw yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #oc: ai

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scoobysnakz · 1 year ago

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Older

||* Maybe it's because he's safe and keeps you warm in times or need. Or maybe it's because he has those unruly salt and pepper hair and worry lines. Either way, you want him and maybe he wants you.

Maybe you don't know, or maybe you don't care. But he can smell you, the rush of dopamine when he turns his back and you can see his trapezius shining deliciously in his dimly lit room.

pt2

||* dilf!miguel, vaginal fingering, praise kink, eye contact, perv!miguel, college-age reader, lap sitting, slight hair pulling, one shot, Daddy issues, Dom/sub, smut written by a virgin, not proof read

You're young. And oblivious. So painfully oblivious.

At first, Miguel had just assumed it was a defence mechanism. Don’t give them a reaction and they’ll leave you alone. But the more you smile at the guys flirting with you, the more you lean into their non-platonic hugs, the more certain he becomes that you’re just unaware.

And- in all honesty- he's jealous. He doesn't want to feel the shame that weighs down on his shoulders each time your expression softens at his praise. He doesn't want to feel guilt for watching your hips sway as you walk away. He doesn't want to be like them but he craves the audacity to leer at you in broad daylight.

Maybe it's his morals or maybe it's because he's a coward.

Either way, you’re young and oblivious. And deep down, he loves it.

It's worse in HQ, these men are meant to have morals, good morals, and yet they treat you like a fuckdoll to the eyes.

Your perfect, untouched, college body just for them to perv at.

And Miguel hates it. He hates how he has to ignore your pretty eyes staring up at him as he talks, how he has to scold every Spiderman for being a pervert, and he hates how he's just as bad.

Maybe if you weren't so bubbly sweet he wouldn't have to spend each night palming himself to the thought of your perky body, every shower spurting his hot cum on the misty glass and every moment alone with his office with the doors locked and hand muffling his moans.

“Migs?” that nickname, that only you can use, that only you dared to think of.

He turns to face you, a lazy smile drawn across his painfully perfect lips. “Princessa?” And you immediately try to hide the blush that threatens to bloom on your cheeks.

You hold out your hands, a tray holding a ‘spidey spectacular’ on top. In reality, it's nothing spectacular- a beef burger with barbecue sauce, large fries and a medium drink.

“Got you some lunch,” you grin.

He hops down from his podium, cringing at how your body tenses at the loud thud. “Why?” his tone is harsh, cold, forced.

He knows why. You care, you check in on him when no one else does, you randomly ask him if he's drinking more water than coffee that day, if he actually went to sleep the night previous- unknowing to the thoughts of you that kept him up.

“You haven't eaten today,” you stick your arms out, a playful smile on your face and he doesn't ask how you know. You just do, “and you can't capture those nettlesome anomalies on an empty stomach!”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Nettlesome?”

You laugh, a soft one that makes his core ache with need. “My literature professor has permanently engrained fancy words into my brain.” your shocking professor. Probably some perv who keeps you behind to help you with your tests and oggles at your perfectly shaped ass when you bend over to pick up a pen.

And a painful reminder that as mature as you may be, you’re still young. 18 years too young.

He takes the burger from the tray, gaze lingering on the second as he tries to decide if it's for him or not.

“I’m eating with you,” you answer his question without him asking.

“No, princessa.”

You huff at him, soft, rounded lips falling into a pout. It's a habit you've made- bringing him lunch and sitting with him to make sure he's actually eating the food you've bought no matter how hard he protests.

“Fine. I won't eat with you, I'll just sit and stare and probably piss you off,” you smile smugly at him.

“Whatever,” he grumbles, turning away from you and throwing the paper from the burger in the bin.

You hum in response, not even caring for his grouchy attitude because it doesn't bother you. Because you're young, and you don't understand how men work yet.

He pulls himself up to his podium, glowing red webs dangling from the large metal disk where you soon follow.

Maybe you don't know, or maybe you don't care. But he can smell you, the rush of dopamine when he turns his back and you can see his trapezius shining deliciously in his dimly lit room.

You pull yourself close to him, hand resting just between his thigh and yours. So soft and delicate and he wants to ruin the innocence within them. Wants to see your dainty fingers wrapped around his cock, wants to see how you use those digits inside of yourself while- hopefully- thinking of him.

“How’s school?” he feels like an awkward uncle at an even more awkward Christmas party. Is this what it's come to? Him having to ask about your college life because that's your main focus because you’re young… er.

A small scoff escapes you, and you immediately cover up with a cough.

“I’m not seven,” you tease, hand held out to shove him but you immediately withdraw it which makes him frown.

“You look it.” it's your turn to frown.

You blink up at him, wondering if he knows how you crave these sweet moments between the two of you. You hate how dependent you've become on him, how you can't get through the day without thinking of him and using his health as an excuse to come see him.

“You’re an ass,” you fold your arms across your chest, nose scrunching in feigned irritation.

Miguel clicks his tongue at you, head cocking to the side in disapproval. “Language, princessa.”

You mutter a feeble “sorry”, a forced waver to your voice that makes him chuckle lightly.

You turn your head to face him, his dark, almost curls illuminated by the neon orange of his numerous monitors. His eyes meet yours, deep maroon paralysing you in place, peeking fangs slowing your breathing, chiselled features pinking your cheeks.

And you smile. A sickly sweet, beautifully innocent smile. Any other person would look away, grow red with shame, and maybe say something embarrassing. But you? You just smile.

Because you're painfully naive.

“Really?” you turn your head to face him, neck craned back so he gets a perfect view of your soft skin. “Do I look seven?”

Of course, you don't look seven. You look twenty, which you are. But you're mature and not in a creepy way. No one else would think twice about seeing if he's okay, and no adult would have their panties organised by colour like you do either.

The sound of his chewing eventually fills the bleak room. You can see him looking straight ahead through your peripheral.

“No.”

“A man of few words,” you grin.

“A girl of far too many.”

You aren't a girl. You’re a woman. You don't spend time chasing boys, you enjoy literature, and you have your whole life planned out. Kids don't do the things you do. Kids don't want a life with a decent man, with him.

“School’s boring,” you cut through the silence, voice soft, quiet, shy.

Relief washes over him like the first rainfall in the Sahara. He swallows- quickly, and brings his attention back to you- not that it ever really left you.

“It shouldn't be, you're smart, princessa, and if your professors are doing their job you should be engaged with their subjects,” he hates that he sounds so parental and demanding when he speaks to you but it's like a default setting. He expects the best from you because he knows you can achieve it.

You scoff and this time you don't bother hiding it at all. “Thanks,” you mutter dryly, “I’ll keep being smart and then school will be more exciting.”

He grimaces at your dull tone. He's used to your sparkly side, the smiles and the giggles and now you're acting your age, all attitude and sarcasm.

“That’s not what I meant,” he groans, his voice harsher than before.

“What did you mean then, Miguel?” you press on.

“I meant that you're smart enough to entertain yourself, unlike other people.”

And in its own strange way, his ‘complisult’ makes you smile. He sees who you are, that you aren't some immature child.

It feels nice not being viewed as a child for once. A slow, steady warmth travels through you. He's being nice to you, not a rare occurrence but uncommon enough to mean something.

Slowly, you edge your hand closer to his, fingers gently nudging against his own. You pause for a moment, knowing you’re pushing it and waiting for his reaction but when he doesn't pull away you give his hand a squeeze.

“Thanks,” your gentle voice making his cock harden beneath his suit, “in its own way, that was sweet.”

And you grin at him again. Soft lips beaming up at his plain expression as he tries not to think about how badly he needs some relief.

Against his better judgment, he squeezes your hand back. And the soft, nervous, almost squeak that escapes you makes it all worthwhile.

“It’s true. When I went to your universe,” not to jack off while you shower, “I saw your study notes. You work hard, princessa, and it's good, admirable,” hot.

All your life you be craved words so sweet. Someone to tell you that all those years of dedication to being the best and coming second is too, better than good. Someone to tell you that when they saw your study notes they didn't see you as dumb you have to revise but studious enough to want the best.

You don't even think twice about him being in your universe, just putting it down to an anomaly or another perfectly innocent reason.

He can smell it again, that dopamine rush. You pull yourself closer to him, taunting him unknowingly and let your head rest on his shoulder.

You do this often, allow yourself to lean against him, intertwine your fingers with his, plant endearing kisses to his stubbly cheeks when he helps you out. And you do it so secretly that it's almost sexual but the innocence you perform these acts with makes it feel painfully platonic.

All he can do is ride out this moment of pure torment. Cock stiff and thighs burning.

Deep down he knows he shouldn't be like this, savouring your innocence that he can so easily capture on cameras he can use later. You're so pure, sacred almost, that it feels wrong to even have his arms wrapped around your waist.

“Migs?” that nickname that only you get to use because if he gets to call you princessa its only fair.

Your hand slips off of his and moves to rest on his thigh. “Migs?” you say a little louder this time. He hums dully.

“Princessa?”

Sometimes you wonder if he knows how wet his voice makes you. The low rumble that passes through his chest, the silky smooth movements of his lips, the slight tinge of an accent that makes your cunt flutter.

You let your thumb travel over the ridges of his fingers, smooth over the peaks of his knuckles.

His hand is so big compared to yours, something that the two of you haven't ignored.

He wonders how the rest of you feels, past the tight lycra of your suit as it covers your wrists, against the fresh cotton of his bedsheets, flush against his chest.

The dull humming of the monitors accompanied by your heavy breathing and the subtle whirring of the random machinery warms up the silence between the two of you.

You shift yourself to face him, pretty lips pursed and brow furrowed.

Maybe it's because he's so safe right now. Or maybe it's because you failed your paper and his praise is all you need. But he looks painfully handsome.

Broad shoulders rising and falling with every breath. Soft lips parted in hunger. The sea of deep sepias and carmines that is his eyes.

Miguel has always been there for you. Well, maybe not always, but often enough. Your roommates being assholes? You can sleep at HQ. Suit ripped? He’ll make you a new one.

And in this moment, you can't see past that. He may be older, grey strands peppering his umber locks and worry lines framing his features, but that doesn't matter.

So you lean up close to him, faces inches apart. Just to smell him, just to see him, just to be near him, just to feel him.

He flinches at first, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed. His gaze runs up and down your figure, trying to figure out what you're doing, your innocent expression leaving far too much up for interpretation.

For a moment the two of you just stare at each other, arousal burning white-hot in your core and bodies thrumming with desire.

A calloused hand moves to cup your cheek and pull you closer. Miguel lets out a low sigh, hot breath tickling your face and making your nose scrunch in a way that can only be described as perfect.

Your breathing slows and your heart hammers. He's so close, soft lips just within reach.

“Can I?” his voice is almost a croak, a desperate plea.

He can't tear his eyes away from your quivering lips. He wants to feel them against his own, taste you, have your mouth in his possession.

You don't get time to finish your feeble “please” before he's pressing his lips against yours.

It's soft at first, the two of you gradually warming to the sensation of each other. But when you let out a soft sigh something inside him switches. All morals and guilt go completely out the window and his senses are filled with you.

His tongue probes hungrily at your lips, seeking access to the warmth of your mouth and you happily agree. His hands slide down to your hips, fingertips pressing into the soft flesh crudely hidden beneath your suit.

“Need you,” you groan, hands gripping his chest with desperation. He silences you with another kiss, tongue immediately attacking yours, too impolite, too hard, too impatient to wait for your sanction.

He's blinded by lust, a desire that's been building up inside him for too long. His arm snakes to the small of your back, protruding talons catching on the material of your suit. He pulls you into his lap and you nearly gasp at the sensation of his erection brushing against your clothed cunt.

You lean back slightly so you can look at him, chest rising and falling with each pant. “Say something,” you pout, his mutism making your head swarm with confusion, “let me hear your voice.”

The neediness of your tone makes him smile, a boyish, cheeky one that makes your stomach flutter.

“What do you want me to say?” he questions, fingers tracing up and down the bridge of your spine.

“Just… talk me through it,” you pause, cunt fluttering and thighs tensing, “it’s my first time,” you admit quietly. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. It's something you've never admitted, viewing virginity as a burden more than the blessing men do.

“Who said I'm gonna fuck you?”

Oh.

You purse your lips, your smile faltering and skin prickling with embarrassment as you fidget on his lap. His cock strains against his suit, hips threatening to buck up when you unintentionally grind against him.

You look down and a smirk forms on your face. You press the heel of your palm against his erection, eyes widening with arousal at the whine that escapes him. “This did.”

You swear that for a moment you can see a glint of red in his eyes, much darker, meaner, than his usual cool mahogany.

“Don't,” he grunts, hand gripping your wrist.

The excited grin on your face brings him back. He can't do this to you. He can't take your innocence, be the one to steal what makes you so pure. He's done things he's ashamed of, killed, lied, hated. He isn't deserving of the sweet bliss that’s you.

Your lips fall into a disappointed pout. Have you done something wrong? Maybe you’ve been too eager?

“I… I'm sorry?” you pose your apology as a question, unsure of what's actually going on. You’re inexperienced but this… this isn't normal.

“No, mierda, no, princesa,” and his hands back on your cheek, thumb tracing over the curve of your vermillion. “No digas lo siento.” your brow furrows in confusion but he doesn't elaborate.

He wants to ruin you, corrupt your pretty pussy with his hot cum and watch it seep out in think dribbles before he can stuff it back in with his fingers. But he can't.

That sweet innocence in your eyes, lashes fluttering with arousal from a simple kiss. He can't do this to you.

“Look at me,” he commands and on instinct, your eyes meet his.

“Good Girl,” he croons.

“I'm confused, Migs,” you push his hand off your cheek softly, head cocked to the side, “you’re confusing me.”

He brings a hand to your cunt and he cups it, the heel of his palm digging into your cunt. “Let me do this instead, hmm?” you nod in agreement, head too fuzzy with the strange mixture of arousal and bewilderment to even process the jolt of pleasure that shot down your spine.

The sound of ripping draws your attention down to your arousal-slick folds but he clicks his tongue. “Eyes on me, chica,” his tone is slightly harsher now but his eyes are still warm.

You don't know what he's doing. If he's coming or going. If he's teasing you or allowing this to go further.

“Mi-” he presses his index finger to your lips, not that he needed more than his intense gaze to silence you.

“You said this is your first time?” you nod again.

“No one else has touched you?” his fingers part the tear in your suit, your damp panties on show for him.

“No one.”

His thumb starts to slowly circle your cotton-clothed clit eliciting a soft gasp from you.

“Do you want me to touch you, princessa?”

Your fingers dig into the muscle of his thighs but he doesn't flinch. A sharp talon nips at your weeping bud and you nearly cry. It sends a jolt of pain fused with sickly sweet pleasure coursing through your veins. “Asked you a question didn't I?”

You nod your head again, not knowing how to answer.

“Use your words.”

Your cunt is dribbling its juices all down your thighs- and he can smell it. His mouth is practically drooling at the scent it your arousal. He's trying so hard not to rip your suit all the way and split you open with his cock. But you're gentle, soft, sweet, delicate. So he has to be as well.

Taking a shaky, deep breath, you nod your head again, “I want you to touch me, Miguel.”

“Muy bein, princessa,” his thumb slips under the waistband of your panties and comes to rest on your clit but he doesn't stimulate you. Just leaves it resting on the hardened nub.

You whine at the lack of friction, hips trying to grind against his hand but his free hand holds you down.

“Migs, please,” you know you sound pathetically needy but you don't care. The man you've been lusting after since he first recruited you has his hand in your pants.

“Then keep looking at me,” he instructs, “wanna see your pretty face. Can you do that for me?” he grins at the twitching in your cunt caused by his words. That's all the confirmation he needs.

His thumb begins its slow pattern around the hood of your clit while his other hand rests on your waist, keeping you planted firmly on his lap. And maybe so you can feel how big he is.

His hands are surprisingly gentle. You've seen him kill before, seen the plethora of blood he can draw from someone with one fell swoop. Yet he's always been so careful with you, right now being no exception. Maybe that's what’s drawn you to him, the idea of him viewing you as something so sacred that he can't bring himself to damage your fragile body.

The tedious speed he's using is purposefully slow. He wants to draw this out for as long as possible, keep you a squirming mess on his lap, your sweet nectar running down to his thighs. But you want more; you’re too shy to ask for it but you want it.

You press your lips to his again, tongue slipping into his mouth almost sloppily. He's taken aback at first by your sudden burst of confidence but he doesn't protest. The hand that was resting in your hip moves to the back of your head to press you deeper into the kiss.

You whine hungrily and he rewards you with a faster pace. Your thighs clench around him, not actually expecting your plan to work. Your eyes flutter for a moment but he grips your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him.

“Princessa, I'll stop,” his warning is heed enough.

Your mind’s a foggy blur of arousal and pure bliss. He keeps toying with your clit, slowing down when your gaze falters but speeding up and rewarding you if you've kept eye contact.

“Please, I'll be good, so good for you,” you mewl, craving his kind words of praise again.

“Will you? Will you let me see those pretty lips of yours smile so sweetly for me while I make you feel good?” you nod your head excessively, mumbled “yes I will”’s and “good for you”’s spilling from your lips.

The hot coil of pleasure tightens with each flick of his distal. More and more sweet moans spew from your loose hanging mouth which are just music to his ears. Your leaky hole clenches around nothingness but you're too shy to ask for more. Miguel’s thumb is good enough but what you really crave is that hard cock that's pushing up against your stomach.

Soft, sticky clicking sounds mellow in the warmth of the rooms atmosphere, arousal blending in smoothly along with the scent of your nearing climax. He can sense it, your hips stuttering and your nails digging into the meat of his chest. But he can't let you go just yet.

“Hold it for me,” its a command, not a request.

You bite your lower lip, eyes nearly watering as you try you hardest to hold back. Your poor cunt throne needily while it continues to pump hot juices all over his hand. “I-I don't know how,” you blubber, thighs trembling and hands twitching.

Your body runs white hot with pleasure while your mind teeters on the edge of climax.

“I know you can, be a good girl, princessa,” he pressed earnestly, two-toned lips falling into that signature smirk.

You let your head come to rest in the crook of his neck. He flinches at the warmth of your breath and grabs the back of your hair roughly. You whine at the sharp tug but don't protest further.

“Fuck did I tell you ‘bout looking away?” his voice is almost harsh but you don't care. Your whole body is tingling with so much euphoria, blood pumping hot with pleasure, that you don't even care about his talon catching on your clit.

You’re so close to cumming, to reaching that paradise he's dangling in front of you like a carrot on a stick. “Let me, I-i can't, Migs.”

He frowns.

Once you're done that's it. He has to let you go, push off his lap and keep you at arm's length. But he can't bring himself to do that, get rid of your warmth and tiny frame.

“Migs? Please, let me…” you cut yourself with a silent moan.

Your mouth falls slack, eyes widening for a moment before fluttering closed. Warmth washes over you, trickling down your spine like honey from a jar. And for a moment you think you've gone deaf because Miguel’s lips are moving but you can't figure out what he's saying.

Your arousal spills from your cunt and all the way down his hands in a warm, blanketing trinket of your pleasure.

He clicks his tongue in disappointment but lets you ride out your high with his thumb remaining on your pussy.

“Fuck,” you breathe, voice cracking in a way that only makes his cock harden.

“Mmmm, did my princessa enjoy herself?” you look up at him, eyes glazed over with lust.

Your orgasm took enough energy for you to be exhausted now. You can barely lift your head let alone reply to him. When you try to smile your eyes just roll back slightly, your lashes fluttering and your nose scrunching.

You’ve come before, plenty of times, but this feels different. This time it feels all warm and gooey like it's going to stick to you forever. Maybe it's because it's Miguel’s fingers instead of your own toying with your cunt or maybe it's because you got to hold onto him. Either way, you've just cum all over his hands and can't form a proper sentence now.

Miguel smiles down at you, revelling in your blissed-out expression. Knowing that he's drawn this pleasure from you makes his insides churn.

“Pretty Girl,” he coos, hand smoothing your spine, “so pretty for me, hmm? Cumming just from me playing with her pretty pussy.” as if to prove a point, he spreads your sticky folds open with his thumb two middle fingers, a soft gooey sound catching your attention.

“Wonder if your cunt is just as pretty?” be slides a harsh finger inside with a grunt, eliciting a sharp gasp from you, “want me to fuck your tight hole, princessa?”

And you nod. Too fucked out, too tired, too needy, too in love with him without either of you knowing it yet, to push him away.

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel x you #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 #fluff #miguel fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut

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luvrxbunny · 1 year ago

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little spider

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

Prompt: Innocence

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader knows nothing about sex or feelings of arousal, clothed clit-rubbing? cum in pants, small feelings of embarrassment (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 3.3k

A/N: sorry im late but im kinda proud of this one so i hope it was worth the wait! <3

Miguel didn’t think he’d end up in this position, nowhere in his wildest, most perverted fantasies did he think that this would actually be the outcome of him recruiting you but… here we are.

You were assigned by the higher-ups to learn from him, they thought you had potential, and honestly? Miguel hated you when he met you, he felt like they were punishing him for something, that assigning him this raw recruit was just a flaunt of power. You didn't even have a suit he had to make you one, a trial suit first, to make sure all your vitals were good, to track your movements and decide what suit material would be best- or if you would have a digital one like him.

During the weeks of his monitoring of your vitals, he began to grow a bit fond of you. You were an adorable recruit and eager to please, you were thoughtful and always gave your all, something he really appreciates. One other thing he noticed about you… your dopamine levels were elevated around him, along with your estradiol and testosterone. He ignores it when he’s writing his reports, he tells himself that he doesn’t report it because the higher-ups don't need to know, not because he knows they’d make you transfer… He should’ve requested it the first time he noticed it but the thought of you, his sweet, innocent spider, all turned on just from being around him? It ignited something in him.

He updated your suit, saying that the data he was receiving wasn't enough, he made you wear the suit as he replaced the chip and tried to hide the smile in his voice when your spine straightened under his touch. The new chip could give him real-time tracking of all your vitals, but he set his watch to alert him anytime certain hormones spiked… estradiol and testosterone. So he conducted a little experiment over the following weeks, he’d lean into you more when you speak, holding your eye contact, he even broke out the smirk he used to use on girls when he was younger, and it worked on you.

His watch vibrated every time he was near you, if he walked up to you, it started being an alert to when you were near, it’d go off before you’ve even approached him, he’d walk into a room and it’d go off before he even saw you. It started to have an effect on him, he started to feel a spark in his stomach every time it went off, every time he’d meet your eyes and you’d have that expression he’d grown to know so well. That weak, almost pleading- yet confused look in your eyes and the sheer panic before tearing them away from his. He started having to grip whatever was in his hands as tightly as he could to control himself when you’re breathing would stutter after he complimented you on your work.

He started getting hard reviewing your logs after spending the day with you, watching your heart rate stay elevated, spiking along with your hormones, he can see your breathing pattern, and how irregular it is compared to when you’re not with him. How high your body temperature was… the main areas of heat. On his more weak days, he’s gotten himself off to the diagram of you, with the burning red spot between your legs as the focus of his fantasies.

Now you’re here, avoiding his gaze as his watch vibrates like crazy. “Miguel?” He looks at you again, trying to keep his gaze neutral, hopefully, to make this a bit easier on you… and him. “Yes?”

His voice is smooth as cocoa butter and you can feel his gaze burning into you. He started this heat inside you, one you’d never encountered before. It starts when you see him in the morning and doesn’t stop until you struggle to sleep- or at least it used to. But recently it’s been non-stop, a constant distraction that you can’t pinpoint, it feels like it’s in your hips, stomach, chest, and thighs all at once. It feels like it’s in his breath when it fans over your face, it's in his eyes when they lock with yours, and somehow on his fingertips when they brush over any part of you. You’ve spent hours a night trying to figure out what you can do about it, you’ve thought about even asking Lyla but decided the risk of her telling Miguel was far too great.

This past week it’s just been building on it’s self, almost unbearable with Miguel’s new immersive training. He takes you away to some deserted, closed-off place and trains you with no distractions, giving you nothing to focus on other than him and forcing him to give all his attention to you. Miguel’s attention, his gaze is what causes the most… pain. That’s what it’s become, a dull, numb, thrumming at the base of your stomach, like an itch you can’t scratch that just becomes a nuisance. You couldn’t handle it anymore and if you asked Lyla she’d just tell Miguel- so why not just ask him directly?

So here you are, avoiding his gaze because you’ve spent the entire day with him, building enough fire inside you- you don’t need to add any more. “I think…” You take a breath and turn to him a bit before forcing the words out. “There’s something wrong with me.” He puts his clipboard down, his concern, and his thick, veiny hand that comes into view piles onto the heat over-taking your bloodstream. He takes his glasses off and sits back in his chair, reaching his leg out to pull a chair beside you closer to him. You dare a glance at him and try not to collapse at his gaze, at the way his hair moves over his face for a moment as he motions for you to sit in the provided chair.

You sigh and sit down, your legs pressed tightly together, your palms resting on your thighs and your eyes focused on the back of your hands. You stay silent, your mind racing, your body warming further at the feeling of his eyes on you. “What’s wrong, little spider?” You suppress a shiver at the nickname as goosebumps rise over your skin, it’s been a problem since he picked it. “I’m hot.” The words shoot out of your mouth before you can second-guess them again. Miguel chuckles a bit, sending embarrassment through your body, sits back in his chair, and crosses his arms, prompting you to go on.

“I can’t fix it. There’s… someone.” Miguel pretends he doesn’t notice the way your eyes flicker to him. “For some reason, something about them just- “ You pause for a moment, truly baffled by the way you feel, trying to find some way to explain it. “They just do something to me and it won’t stop.” Your words start to sound frantic, a bit panicked. Miguel leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees to examine your expression. “It’s like there's a low- like a low vibration- or a frequency? Like the ones that are so low you can barely hear but you can sorta feel them? It’s like that but- but deep inside me.”

Your eyes close and eyebrows furrow as you describe the feeling to him. He tries to keep his breathing even as he hardens uncontrollably under the suit. You don’t even realize what you’re confessing to him. “Like it’s in my bones, Miguel.” You add emphasis, your hands digging into the material of your suit before raising your head to meet his eyes, hoping he understands the state you’re in. He’s almost dizzy at the way his blood rushes to his cock. He holds your gaze and tries to convey a baffled, thoughtful expression as he tries to calm himself.

“That’s- That’s odd. Yeah, um.” He takes a few deep breaths before sitting back again, unable to stay in your space any longer. “Do- Can you tell me who’s causing it? Perhaps it’s a side effect of their powers?” Your spine straightens and you shake your head at him gently. You twist your fingers in the fabric of your suit and your feet play with each other on the lab floor. “H-have you heard of any powers like that?” You ask him, a hopeful look in your eyes.

Clever girl.

“No, I haven't.” He sits back, spreads his legs, and runs his hands down his thighs and back with a sigh. He holds back a smirk when his watch vibrates and he hears you take a sharp breath. “I- I don’t know what to do anymore. It- I can barely sleep.” You sound distraught, broken, and tired. He’d be the messed up one if he didn't help you… Right?

“I mean… I can try running some tests?” He offers, he keeps his tone light, trying to keep his dark desires off your radar. You perk up at his offer, already up and out of your seat, standing in front of him with a smile. He keeps his eyes on you, trying to ignore the way your scent is assaulting his nose, giving away how badly you need him. “You think we could?”

He nods and stands up, walking over to his lab table and clearing a few things. His head is already running wild with fantasies, ideas of what he could do to you, what he could teach you, how good he could make you feel. “Yeah, of course. C’mere, pequeña araña” You were already walking to him but your pace stutters and his watch vibrates when the nickname slips out. He truly didn’t mean to, he had gotten a bit too deep in his fantasies, and when your voice broke through he didn’t get fully pulled out. He’s never called you that in Spanish, not to your face at least, it’s fallen from his lips a few times before though, when he’s alone with his hand wrapped around his cock. But your reaction dissuades any fear that had shot through him before and he can’t help the smirk that makes its way on his face.

You’re standing silently beside him, wringing your hands together and he doesn’t think you even notice the way your thighs keep clenching together. “Get on the table.” His tone is teasing, a grin on his face as you jump and scramble onto the tabletop. You lay on your back and look over at Miguel, feeling that heat rage through you at the look on his face. It’s dark and- wanting. It’s confusing.

He takes a deep breath and your fingers try to dig into the metal table top as he walks to you. “Okay. I’m going to examine your body a bit, press into some muscles, some pressure points to see if maybe it’s a physical trigger. Is that okay with you?” Your chest is already rising and falling more rapidly at the thought, the promise of Miguel’s hands on you. You nod at him stiffly, trying to stay normal and calm as he holds your eye contact, nodding along with you. A small smile graces his face before he walks around and presses his palm into your hairline, pushing your head down to rest on the table as he stands north of you.

His hands press into your shoulders and your eyes shut tight. He can feel all your muscles tense and his watch vibrates, he sneaks a peak at his and sees the huge spike in almost all your vitals. His cock twitches in his suit at your obvious need but he brushes it aside, if he rushes into this he might scare you off and he doesn’t know what he’ll do if that happens. He may lose his mind. He moves his hands to your biceps, massaging them tightly as little whines slip into your breaths, only audible to his ears.

He walks back to the side of the tables and your eyes stay shut. He massages the softness of your sides and his breathing kicks up a bit once he gets to your hips. He takes his time with them, admiring the way you fit into his hands and how you subconsciously tilt them toward him. His thighs jump as his cock begins to leak, dripping precum down them. He takes a deep, shaky breath and forces himself to move on. He forced himself to move on, he was trying to take it slow, hopefully, you’d realize where you need him and ask for it. But your thighs spread open when he massages the outside and his hands dive for the inner before he can think it through.

You gasp, you sit up with your eyes wide and your hands gripping his wrists. You don’t do anything though, he expects you to pull his hands away but it feels more like you’re holding him there, stopping- or attempting to stop him from pulling away. So of course he doesn't. He stares into your eyes as you search his, trying to figure out if he realizes the way that made you feel, if your cover was blown, if he wants to stop but he looks expectant, like he’s waiting for something. So you loosen your grip. “That’s- I think that’s- ” You’re nodding at him lightly, hoping he understands what you’re trying to say because for some reason your brain has stopped working.

“Yeah?” Your heart stutters at his tone and the tilt of his head as he says it. Your thighs tense around his hand for a moment before you try to calm down, un-tense them but they can’t help the way they tremble with anticipation. You’re nodding at him more frantically and his eyelids flutter. “Okay.” He takes one hand out from between your thighs and rests it on your lower back as his other hand keeps massaging, slowly moving up your inner thigh and the sensations grow more intense the higher he gets.

Your eyes shut and your hands grip his wrists again, not pulling away, just holding him. Your eyes shut and your hips tilt into his hand, getting him so close to your pussy that he can feel the heat radiating off of her. You feel some sort of shame twinge in your belly, dampening the more intense feelings that Miguel was causing. What if this was wrong? What if you aren’t supposed to feel like this with him, without him knowing… Maybe you should stop.

Miguel moves further up and all those thoughts scatter from your head immediately. His watch vibrates again and a noise shoots out of your mouth- one you’ve never heard before as your body folds over and your head rests on his shoulder. You shut your eyes tight and take a slow, deep breath. “Sorry. Sorry, I-” He cuts you off. “It’s okay. That’s why I’m here, right?” He’s nodding at you, comforting and reassuring as his hand leaves your back to cradle your head. “You��re okay. I wanna help you, cariño.” Another noise leaves you at the nickname and his hand grips into your hair for a moment before sliding down to your neck and pulls your head away from his shoulder. He pushes your head against his for a moment, letting out a soft groan before letting go and pushing his fingers against your plush lips.

“How’s that, honey?” His hand settles back on your lower back as you whine and your hands move up his arm, gripping his biceps now and pulling yourself closer to him. “Miguel.” His eyes roll back at how you sound, desperate, breathless, and gone. Your hips are grinding into his fingers and they aren’t even on your clit yet. They’re pressing against your hole through your lips and your suit, he’s keeping his fingertips flat against you so he doesn’t slip inside.

He’s trying to ignore the mess he’s making in his pants, watching your tense face change into a relieved one, your eyebrows pulling inward as your lips part beautifully, releasing a shaky moan as he reangles his fingers to your clit. His hands are shaking as he tries to calm himself down, one of your hands slides up his arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake before gripping onto his shoulder and pulling him down, closer to your face. His eyes are fixed on your expression, taking everything in, every twitch and quiver, the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips before a whimper punches out of you.

You’re ruining him and you’re none the wiser. Your hand slides up to his neck and you push your forehead against his, like he did earlier. His eyes roll back before he forces them to you again, moving his fingers over you clit faster when your thighs begin to shake around his wrist. “I think-” Your voice comes out as a whimper and he groans into you. Your fingers grip into his hair and his cock cries against him. “Something… Miguel.”

The way you say his name fucks with him. It’s prettier than he ever could’ve imagined, he has to lean forward and press his throbbing cock against the edge of the table for relief. You’ve got him feeling like he could die, like he could implode if he doesn’t have you, if after this you realize what you need but get it somewhere else? It’ll be over for him. Your hand readjusts its grip in his hair, becoming more frantic as your spine straightens and your thighs close on his hands. “Miguel? I-” You cut yourself off with a moan and your head falls to his shoulder again, blocking your face from his view.

“No, no.” He brings his hand to the back of your neck again. “Let me see, amor.” He pulls you away from his shoulder and you moan at the nickname. Once again, it didn’t mean to slip out but you’ve got his head so cloudy he can’t help it. You’re moaning his name on repeat, like a warning and he’s pulsing at the thought, the promise of getting to see you cum, for him. His eyes can’t look away from you, he can’t see anything but your face, the way your brows furrow as you tense, and your nails dig into his arms, leaving reminders for later. He watches how you bite your lip before your jaw drops into an ‘O’ shape and his name falls from your lips one more time as a debauched cry.

He keeps his eyes open, watching you cum for him, how your lips form around his name again and again. He wants to collapse, fall to his knees with how much you’re turning him on but he needs to watch you. He forces himself to keep his eyes on you, ignoring the way they want to roll back at how he’s flooding his pants. His hips twitch against the edge of the table as he cums for you, with you. His mind zeros into the way he can feel your clit pulsing underneath his finger tips, how breathless you sound, trying to keep up with the noises he’s forcing from you. His stomach tenses painfully as his cock unloads more cum onto himself. You sound like an angel, crying out for him. He can’t help the way he dives for you, pulling you in to kiss him and swallowing every moan you’ll give him.

You whine into his mouth as his fingers slow down over your clit, your other hand meets the first in his hair and you keep his lips on yours. He keeps kissing you until you calm down and your breathing evens out. His hand comes from between your thighs and rubs your legs until you pull back from his lips. You have a bashful, embarrassed look on your face and it brings the largest smile that you’ve ever seen to his face. “Was that okay, pequeña araña?” You whine and pull him in for a hug, nodding into his shoulder as he chuckles and wraps his arms around you as you begin to giggle against him.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

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dtfpeta · 1 year ago

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Virgin König who was scared to touch you at the beginning of your relationship, but is now too eager to feel any part of his skin on yours.

Even the thought of you touching yourself clouded his mind when he didn't see you. The way your legs would part and you'd tease yourself, delving between your slick folds to satiate a carnal hunger acquired during the long distance. What did you think about? What were you imagining he'd do to you? How was he doing it?

He's come a long way since you started dating though. From being able to cum just from your hand running against his clothed cock. The fabric of his pants stiff with his hardening length that twitched from whatever touch you would provide. Your digits rubbing against his covered tip before tracing down the base of him. The teasing sensation only made him more excited before he would cum prematurely and he'd then beg his apologies. You would finally release his half-hard erection from the restraints of his pants and soiled boxers, and use your tongue to lick at the mess he made.

"D-das ist too much! Please schatz..."

Now he aches to be inside you in any way at any time. A thirst he would quench when you returned to one another and he would show you how much he missed you.

Starting with his tongue between your thighs. Moaning at the taste of you before suctioning his lips around your clit and using the whole length of his tongue to eat at you. The noises he made were louder than your own. His arms would be wrapped around your thighs and gripping at your flesh as his tongue alternated between providing fervored licks to your clit and thrusting between your walls. When your legs would tighten around his head he would groan into your heat, providing a vibration that helped to push you over the edge. He would then raise his head to look at you with low hung eyes, drunk with a type of intoxication that showed its proof on the tip of his nose to the bottom of his chin.

By this point he's getting desperately needy. His cock almost impossibly hard and thrusting slightly into the comforter as his finger works into you. The movement of his hips being a subconscious signal as he could only think about replacing the now two fingers he used to work you open with, with his cock.

When he finally starts to fuck you he is just much at your mercy as you were his. His hands are cupped on the back of your knees as he presses you down into the mattress. His hips meet yours with a lewd squelch as he tries to hide his whimpers from you, which you don't appreciate.

"Let me-let me hear you König" You encourage as your hand comes to cradle his masked face. Though his visage is more often than not concealed from you, you can see right through him. Over under and around him as he is like an extension of yourself. The both of you giving your all to one another.

He breaks into a cacophony of mewls and grunts. His breath hot on your neck as his pace significantly increases. The bedframe knocks against the drywall as the boxspring squeaks alongside it. You can hear the neighbors bang on the wall in response, but it doesn't seem like König cares. He's too absorbed in the way your slick folds envelop his aching length. His words are unintelligible, you wonder how he can barely think straight as his cock rams into the sensitive patch of nerves within your walls.

He's not thinking straight though. His hips move in a sloppy pace, the speed faltering as he moans into your ear. "Ja. Just for me. Just mein-"

He grinds his pelvis against your sensitive clit as he's practically bending you in half while he rails into you. Ushering words of praise as he watches your face twist with pleasure. "Will you cum for me? Bitte mein Liebe. It'd make me so happy."

It isn't until he feels you spasm around his cock that he allows himself to come undone. Fucking his leaking spend back into your cunt as you whine with overstimulation while he breathily laughs from exhaustion and a sudden dopamine boost that you both share.

#konig x reader #cod smut #call of duty #könig x reader #konig smut #konig cod #virgin konig #könig

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murdrdocs · 1 year ago

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coryo who finds ways to motivate you as the semester is coming to a close and you're just not finding the effort.

there's nothing he hates more than someone not appreciating the life he's worked insanely hard to even have a sliver of. so when he sees you creating paper cranes instead of studying for finals, he gets unreasonably pissed off. he tries to drill some sense in you, speaking in a way that makes his nostrils flare and his already cold gaze harden like ice.

"you gotta work harder," he tells you. over and over again. and each time you whine and moan about how you don't have the effort. as if there's something chemically preventing you from seeing further ahead to the big picture.

so coriolanus, now working under gaul and feeling very scientific lately, conducts an experiment. he wants to attempt to force the chemicals in your brain to associate your work with him. for you to disconnect the strain from work with displeasure, and instead associate the labor with euphoria. he wants to make you his own pavlovian dog.

weeks spent conducting research. fingering you as he made you read out textbook passages, forcing you to repeat yourself if you stuttered even once, his chin digging into your shoulder and his fingers halting if you stopped reading all together. letting you sit on his face after you got all of your flashcards right. checking your work, ignoring the way you palmed him through his pants throughout, and only letting you fall to your knees and satiate the empty feeling in your mouth if you got them all right. fucking you slowly throughout your intentionally placed study breaks, only to make you wobble back to the workspace in your dining room with his cum still soaking your cotton panties. day by day he would deliver slow torture, only to bring you to climax and make your dopamine in your hardworking brain come alive.

it's an interesting concept, one he takes mental notes of throughout the process, and he finds his work has paid off (to an extent) whenever you go a full study session without needing any form of help, of course looking at him with pleading eyes at the end as you expect your reward.

coriolanus pretends to be upset, rolling his pretty blue eyes as he sets his pen down, but then you come climbing into his lap and he really can't be mad with you sitting on him, your pretty nails playing in his hair.

no matter how privileged and spoiled you were.

#finals week!#coryosworld!#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow #celeste writes thg

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faithlia · 28 days ago

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'But what the fuck is patience?

english is not my first language!

warnings: smut, mean!reader, sarcatisc!reader, tough!matt mean!matt, haters, display, rough sex, degradation, denial of orgasm...

⚠️ The behavior of all characters are immoral and depraved, if you don't feel comfortable, please, don't read!

summary: You and Matt have a no-strings-attached sexual relationship, but when things don't go the way you plan, your provocations go beyond your limits.

part 1. part 2

Ever since you and Matt started this "little game" of casual sex, your performance and grades in college had strangely improved. I mean, you were always the best in the class, but it was a fact that the way Matt fucked you kept you motivated enough, as if his dick was full of dopamine and energy drinks.

Of course, you would never admit that to him. Matt was certainly not the only guy on campus you had fucked during the last semester, but out of all of them, he was the best! Always leaving your pussy sore at the end of each fuck, with that unshaven beard; and that damn smile he gave you after eating you out.

But, despite his incredibly tasty dick, Matt was petulant and petty, and you hated him for it. You hated how much of a jerk and insufferable he was, so your sex was limited to when you both came and each went your separate ways.

In the morning, you went to the empty bleachers of the college with your friends from class to rehearse your seminar presentation. From afar, you could see Matt practicing football with the other players on the team - it was depressing to watch, because he was so bad, you thought.

"Damn, he's getting hotter every day" your best friend, Liz, says. She hands you a notebook full of notes. "Who?" you ask disinterestedly. "Matt Sturniolo."

"The beard makes him look so sexy" your other friend, Tara, comments. And all the others giggle, agreeing with your observation.

Unfortunately for you, it was all true, but you couldn't help but roll your eyes and shake your head slightly in denial.

"Okay, bitches. Let's get back to work, shall we?" You say motivatedly, and all the others groan quietly about having to actually do this stupid seminar.

Minutes later, when no one was paying attention to Matt anymore, you glanced at him unnoticed and could see him tripping over his own feet when he tried to kick the ball. You laughed out loud and everyone looked at you in confusion.

── .✦

It was already night when you were studying for your exams. Luckily for you, your roommate always slept in her idiot boyfriend's dorm, so you had the absolute peace of mind of having the room all to yourself.

Your phone received a message notification.

piece of shit: where are you now?

you: ?

you: in my dorm, idiot.

you: I don't feel like having sex today. Wait until tomorrow so I can fuck your beautiful ass.

You send the message with a smile on your face, knowing very well how much he hates your provocations. You anxiously wait for his harsh response, but before that you hear a knock on the door.

You go to the door and when you open it, Matt appears with an ironic smile on his lips. He was wearing an old sweatshirt and had damp hair.

Tara was right, he looked delicious with a beard.

Before you can say anything, he enters your room, closing the door behind him. "Damn, didn't you read my message?" you ask sarcastically. "Yeah, but I was already at the door. So it would be rude not to knock and not bother you, wouldn't it?" he replies.

He sits comfortably on your bed - as usual - giving you a smug smile. His blue eyes and wet lips gave you the worst of chills. Unfortunately, that pissed off face he made was irresistible.

"I saw you playing today!" you comment, trying to dispel your noisy thoughts.

Matt pokes his cheek with his tongue, raising his eyebrows in surprise "Really?" he asks disinterestedly.

"Really. Yeah!" you affirm. "You suck!" you let out a low laugh, observing his bored face. "I mean, you should stop because you suck so much! You know, sometimes it's good to recognize our flaws, in this case, your flaws...

"Why don't you go fuck yourself?" Matt interrupts you and you bite your lip.

Honestly, Matt found you insufferable, but you were so hot and beautiful that even though you always talked so much shit, he could still ignore all the nonsense you said just so he could fuck you. "You know, you're just as hot as you are annoying. Your parents must pay a lot of people to pretend to like you. Haven't you ever wondered about that?"

Matt smirks and you smile back, wanting to punch him in the face.

"What are you doing?" He looks away at the pile of books on his desk. "Trying to find a cure for your acute stupidity. What do you think I'm doing, huh?" you reply with acid on the tip of your tongue.

Matt rolls his eyes. He always responds to your provocations in kind and you kind of like it. It was a secret; every time you made Matt angry it only made you want to spread your legs for him more.

"Listen." he sighs, as he pulls you by the waist to stand between his legs. "Why don't you shut the fuck up for a second so I can pretend you're not a stupid brat, huh?" Matt caresses your hips over your sweatpants. His head was facing your belly and he couldn't resist the urge to plant chaste kisses on your skin.

Even though it was almost impossible, you didn't give in to the wet kisses. Delicately, you put your two long fingernails on his chin and say: "What? None of your other dumb bitches were available to satisfy you?"

"Believe me, you're not the smartest of them." He laughs softly. Before you can retaliate to the bold comment, Matt pulls your body under him on the bed, rubbing his hard cock against your covered crotch. You scream in surprise. He kisses you with his hand on your neck, running his tongue against yours, having the protruding premise of his lower lip against your upper lip and making you fall apart during the kiss.

Matt knows exactly what to do with you. He leans in more and more so that his cock is pressed against your pussy, doing his best to keep you trapped between him and the soft mattress.

One of his hands lifts your shirt and he can't resist sucking on a nipple - which has a delicate piercing with little stars. He sucks, circling his warm tongue around the piercing, biting gently. "Mmm," you moan loudly, frowning and biting your lip in anguish. Matt knows how sensitive you are because of your new piercings.

He smiles, ignoring your pained reaction. You slap his arm. He sucks on your other nipple, eagerly trying to swallow your entire breast; your breasts weren't that big but the size was perfect to spill into Matt's mouth, and he made sure to tell you that.

He finishes taking off your shirt and throws it on the floor and you do the same with his shirt. You loved feeling his body against yours, but obviously, you would never admit it, not even to yourself.

You run your hands down his back, during the kisses on his lips, and one of yours makes its way to his cock. You grab it under his pants and can feel the hardness that you were so familiar with. Matt separates his lips from yours to moan when you start masturbating him - making movements from bottom to top.

"Shit." He says with his head in the curve of your neck, kissing that part of your skin, moving up to your chin and then your mouth again, until he pulls away, sitting between your legs.

He quickly takes off your pants and panties, then takes off his own pants, looking at your wet pussy in admiration.

You cross your legs because of the sensitivity, but he opens them wide, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin.

At that point, Matt had already been moved by an overwhelming excitement that made you ecstatic. He was rough and arrogant during sex. He always liked to suck your pussy with his mouth full of saliva, circling your clitoris with his soft tongue. Look, Matt was not a patient person, so gentleness was out of the question. He really liked to fuck you from behind, pulling your hair, slapping your ass, squeezing your sensitive breasts and moaning loudly like you were a cock-hungry whore. But, to Matt's dismay, you were not as submissive as he would have liked; your solid idea of fucking was to be on top of him with your hands pressing on his chest, always teasing him with words like: "Is this the best you can do, Matt?" "Shit, baby, I can't feel you right." and that always made him impulsive and irritated.

He hated how talkative and annoying you were, and for him the only way to shut you up was to shove his hard cock down your throat.

Now with dark and hungry eyes, you give Matt a lustful look as he gives your pussy a hot slap, spitting right on your clit, making the saliva run, shoving two fingers inside you. You moan slyly, with doe eyes begging to be fucked.

"Desperate whore. Always wanting a cock to satisfy that tight pussy, aren't you, baby?" he said, still sticking his fingers inside you.

He pulled his fingers out and put them in your mouth for you to suck on - which you did willingly.

Matt skillfully rubbed his tip against your clit, creating a delicious sensation that filled you with hard pleasure. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth roughly, forcing his hand against one of your legs to spread them wide, grunting as he teased his cock wet with pre-cum against your lubricated entrance.

"Fuck, can you fuck me already? I want to watch the new season of Outer Banks today!" you grumbled impatiently, wanting to cum, lifting your body to see the mess Matt was making in your pussy.

He rolled his eyes at your stupid comment. "You better shut the fuck up or I'll leave you without cumming, little slut." He says, slapping your cheek hard, shoving his cock inside you without pretense. Matt thrusts in and out of you hard. He lets out a hiss as he slaps your face again hard, but this time he holds your cheeks tightly, smiling at the vulnerable position you're in.

He keeps slamming his cock inside you, listening to your incessant whimpers. Tired of this position, he turns you roughly against the bed, putting you on all fours. He thrusts his cock back into you slightly, putting both your arms against your back, skidding your face against the mattress.

You let out a series of high-pitched, sly moans, not resisting the urge to scream when Matt thrusts his cock deep inside you. "Yeaaah."

Matt continues his thrusts and the pent-up feeling of cum is exposed as he pulls your body hard, leaving your back against his sweaty chest. Vehemently, Matt grabs your breast with one hand while he uses the other to turn your face to the side and kiss you.

"I-I'm going to cum," you moan desperately into his mouth, barely able to get the words out. "Not before me!" he exclaims against you, grabbing your neck and moving his hands down your mound to your needy clit. Son of a bitch! He teases you to the max by lightly running his hand over your clit, preventing you from having that vicious sensation in your favorite place.

You can't resist putting your anxious fingers there, however Matt slaps your hand hard, leaving a burning sensation.

"I told you I would cum first, fuck." he says in your ear, fucking you mercilessly.

"Please," whimpers escape your fragile lips, as he increases the frequency of his thrusts and you, desperately, slam against his cock. Matt smiles in pleasure when he hears your pleas, restraining himself from cumming too quickly. You pull Matt's hair in protest for him to masturbate you, and once again try to put your hand on your abused pussy, but he is quick and pulls your hand away.

"Please, please, please," you scream in protest, tears streaming down your blushing face.

Each time Matt slammed his cock against your pussy, the sounds of your skin slapping together spread throughout the room.

Matt stopped his shallow teasing of your clit and touched it as you so desired, allowing your pleasure to increase more and more. However, his imminent climax hit him first, making him moan. He came helplessly and without warning inside you, stopping his movements on your clit.

"What?" you say confused, feeling Matt's cum spurt out of you.

Matt wasn't the kind of guy who didn't know how to satisfy a girl, on the contrary, he liked to make sluts cum before him just so he could hear the minute whispers saying: "but what about you, Matt?" just so he could make them suck his dick in return."

Matt doesn't say anything. He pulls out of you causing you an inevitable discomfort.

All that delicious sensation fades from your body and you feel like crying. This isn't the first time Matt has done this to you. You hate it!

He starts to put his "pajamas" back on, completely ignoring you.

"Are you kidding me?" you mumble impatiently. Laying down on the bed with your back, grabbing a blanket to cover yourself.

"I told you I wanted to cum first." He shrugs, finishing putting on his worn-out shirt. "Oh, don't be mad at me, baby," he says in false sympathy. "I'm sure you can hold your own with your fingers!" he teases and you start to cry silently in frustration.

Matt risks a light kiss on your cheek. He smiles, walking to the door, and when he steps out into the hallway of the dorms, he hears the pillow being thrown against the door and a high-pitched scream from you.

₊⊹ soon, the second part.

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creepswrites · 1 month ago

Text

i've been dealing w/ a lot lately and wanted to write something nice so. enjoy.

SLASHERS w/ A GN! S/O WHO IS DEALING WITH DEPRESSION & ANXIETY

MICHAEL MYERS

"I just don't feel like doing anything..."

Michael gives you space if you ask for it but will still stand and watch you from the corner of the room

He's not the most outwardly affectionate person but you can tell he's worried when he comes over to squeeze your wrist once or twice

And you can tell he's worried sick when he points at the television as an invitation to watch a movie with him

He'll let you cuddle against him and he plays with your hands or hair and actually does hold you back

(It's not that he's NOT affectionate, just not usually like this)

The two of you can spend all day watching silly tv shows and movies to make you laugh

Every day may not be good, but there is something good in every day.

LESLIE VERNON

"Oh my god, Leslie, I think I'm having a panic attack."

Your hands are shaking so bad, you're sweating cold, and your vision is starting to get spotty as he hurries over to catch you

He rocks you through it, sits you down on the floor, and keeps you close to his chest while running his fingers down your arm or through you hair

Leslie's voice is soft and grounding as he tries to talk you back down

When you're finally able to breath again, you break down into such guttural sobs that he just holds you and rocks you gently

He lets you stay over at his house, you two get your favorite for dinner, and he reminds you that if you ever need to talk, he's there

After watching a movie, you talk to him about it. About how everything feels so overwhelming, how you feel helpless and out of control, and how you feel alone. He listens, really listens. And right now, that's all you really need: to just talk it out with someone

Even the darkest hour only has 60 minutes.

STU MACHER & BILLY LOOMIS

"I feel like everything is going wrong."

Stu happily listens to you vent about your problems and tries to drag you out on walks or to see movies or something

Definitely the type of guy to take you to amusement parks to give you constant dopamine hits

Billy, in contrast, will give you solutions to your problems and gives you space

He's not the most emotional guy so he tries to give you space to sort out your thoughts

So you've got a good balance!

Whenever they catch you starting to spiral again, Stu will go grab you a drink or a blanket while Billy tries to talk you down, reminding you that your problems are temporary and you will be okay

You've survived everything up till this point. You will continue to survive.

VINCENT SINCLAIR

"Do you hate me?"

Honestly, Vincent is surprised you could even think that!

But he understands how your mind works at this point so he takes you aside and opens the floor for you to talk

Everything just spills out. Small things he may have done on accident that just began to pile up, larger things that have just added to weighing you down, everything

Anyone else would think you were blaming him for your problems but he didn't see it that way. He saw you finally cracking and asking for his help to fix things

He can't magically solve everything for you but he supports you, showers you in hugs and kisses, and starts talking to Bo about maybe driving you out of Ambrose every so often to see someone about your mental health

You're grateful for his help. Everything feels so much less overwhelming when you have someone to hold hands with while you try to get help

Small, baby steps each day add up to huge, giant leaps over time. Don't give up.

LESTER SINCLAIR

"I think everyone hates me."

Lester's head snaps around and catches you staring down at your phone with wet, sorrowful eyes

You break down when he hugs you, spilling everything about a fight with your friends that left you scared. Not sad - scared

That's what sets off alarm bells in his head. He puts your phone aside and listens to you talk, vent, cry, anything you need

You're afraid. Afraid of what your friends said, worried about what they might tell others, and a petrifying anxiety that you'll end up alone

But Lester reminds you if they do that, then they were never really your friends to begin with

He peppers your face in kisses and reminds you that, no matter what, he will always love and care for you. Even if the whole world was against you, you'd always have him Jonesy comes and sits in your lap, licking your face and hands as she tries to smother you in her love as well!

Don’t dwell on those who hold you down. Instead, cherish those who helped you up.

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torialefay · 9 months ago

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jealous sex with hannnnnnn 🫶🏽 please?

Jealous Sex With Han ❌

dom!jisung x gn!reader

✨ synopsis: hannie doesn't handle it well when he sees you with another one of his members.

✨ warnings: degradation, use of "whore" and "slut", borderline toxic jisung, dub-con, MINORS DNI 🔞

• jisung had been side-eyeing you most of the night. he kept his jaw clenched and would barely make eye contact with you. every time you tried to go up and talk to him- nothing, he would just shoo you away.

• you couldn't wait for the concert to be over. surely he'd be in a better mood after getting all that dopamine release.

• but you were wrong.

• you had expected him to come back to the artist lounge with a smile, as hyper as he normally was. but tonight, he was anything BUT that.

• you tried to get his attention as he walked past, ignoring you completely.

• "jisung! what is the matter with you?!" you snapped.

• he stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face you. his eyes grew big as he stared into your own, challenging you. "we're talking about it when we get to the hotel." you'd never seen him so serious or have so much conviction about something.

• all you could do was back away and try to avoid him as best you could.

-------

• once you'd arrived to the hotel, you could do nothing but try to get through the awkward silence.

• you were both unpacking your bags slowly, trying to ignore the tension in the room. after getting it most of the way done, you were fed up and couldn't take anymore.

• "hannie. seriously. what's the matter?" you asked, walking up behind him just next to the bed.

• he turned, sucking his cheeks in. obviously still frustrated.

• "did i say i was ready to talk about it?" he threw at you.

• "well... no..." you looked away.

• "then don't try to fucking push me right now, y/n! i'm trying so hard to..." he broke out into a frustrated smile as he ran his hands through his hair. "i'm trying so hard to be good right now, but fuck you're making it hard."

• "then let's talk about it," you said in a small voice.

• "let's talk about it? alright fine, let's fucking talk about it. what is the matter with you? you think i didn't see you with changbin? fucking letting him piggy back you around like he's some big tough guy? like your boyfriend couldn't do that for you? like be so fucking real right now, just because he's bigger than me, you think he's tougher than me huh?" he started moving his body towards you. you could see the aggression overtaking him.

• "you think he's tougher than me? you think he's more man than me HUH?" he was now borderline screaming in your face. it made you feel so small, yet... excited?

• "well i've got news for you sweetheart, he could never do to you what i can. he could never fuck you harder or make you scream louder than i can."

• you felt your breath hitch in your throat, starting to get nervous. but your mind couldn't help but wander to how hot he looked... how good he would feel.

• "pull your pants down and bend over the bed. now." he said, already pulling his sweats and underwear down to reveal his cock. you almost choked seeing how hard it was already.

• you knew now wasn't a time that you wanted to fight back. you'd never seen him in this state and you didn't want to find out what would happen if you didn't listen. you pulled both your underwear and jeans down all in one go and laid yourself on the bed so that you were bent over.

• "all that fucking ass is mine, you hear me?!" he yelled, landing a smack to one cheek. you let out a small whimper, but nothing more.

• "I SAID DO YOU HEAR ME?" another smack came down, turning you instantly bright red. it stung and you weren't used to it, but you tried your best to appease him.

• "yes," you mustered.

• "good," another smack. "now what you're gonna do," he said, lining himself up at your entrance. "is lay there and be a good little whore for me."

• all of a sudden, he thrusted inside of you. no warning, no warm up. nothing.

• you couldn't help but let out a small scream. with no time to adjust, he felt so big so quickly. it didn't feel bad, but it was an all new sensation.

• he gripped onto your hips harshly, digging in so you'd eventually get bruises by the end of it.

• "how do you like that, whore?" he yelled, starting to pound relentlessly into you. "is this what you wanted? to get some fucking dick?"

• he had picked up the pace to the point that you couldn't catch your breath. every time you tried to take a breath in, he pulled your hips down toward him, pounding into you and making you lose your breath. a small moan left you feeling defeated.

• you couldn't reply. there was no way you could get anything out. your mind fogged over, lost in the sensation.

• "aw, look at that. can't even take it. i thought you were a whore baby? you can't even take this?" he kept pounding and pounding. you almost couldn't resist the pleasure and pain you felt, trying to melt into him but still having to clench from his harshness.

• all of a sudden, he brought his thrusts to a slow and leaned his body down on top of yours. for a second you thought he may calm down and hug you from behind.

• but god, were you wrong.

• he crouched over to pull his chest into your back, close enough so he could whisper in your ear. "nobody can fuck you like i can. you'd do good to remember that."

• with that, he grabbed your hair in both hands and lifted up, pulling your head and chest with him. he started to thrust into you harder than he ever had. he was animalistic, throwing out groans as he went. he couldn't stop.

• he repositioned himself to hold your hair in one hand now so the other could make its way down to slap your ass.

• he loved the way you looked for him. back arched with your hair in his hand, choking your neck back. your ass bright red and hot for him. his little slut.

• it just made him want to go harder.

• "that's a good whore," he smiled and laughed maniacally.

• you couldn't help but let a few tears stream down from the lack of air and the overstimulation you were experiencing. jisung was relentless in his spanks and his thrusts. you didn't think you'd be able to handle it much longer.

• just as suddenly, he started to moan louder. he let out a loud growl as he hit your ass again, watching it bounce for him.

• this was the hardest he'd ever felt. he gripped your hair even tighter and arched you back further, almost bending you in half.

• "who do you belong to slut? i want you to fucking say it"

• you couldn't get anything out. your whole face was red and you couldn't get a breath out, let alone a word.

• "WHOSE GODDAMN SLUT ARE YOU?! YOU BETTER FUCKING GET IT OUT."

• you tried to scream it, but only air got past your vocal cords. you tried again, and finally the remnants of "yours" could be made out.

• "that's fucking right," he yelled, releasing your hair and sending you back onto the bed. you gasped for air, trying to escape the fuzziness in your head.

• he grabbed back onto your hips to give deep, hard thrusts. his breathing started getting shaky, so you knew he was close. you beared down onto him reflexively, trying to give your aching pussy what it needed.

• "ah fuckkkk-" he whined. he dug his hands into you, not letting up.

• you started to feel numb everywhere. he had officially fucked you out. you could feel him hitting the one exact spot that sent you into overdrive. over and over again. but there was nothing you could do.

• "fuck! feels so fucking good." his thrusts got quick, quick enough that you knew he was going to cum any second.

• "goddamn it my own fucking whore. too fucking good for me. you're never going to leave my sight again, you understand? FUCK. my fucking slut." he growled, sending one final hard thrust into you before he felt a release. you could feel him start to twitch inside of you.

• "aughhhhhhh," he moaned as he rode out his high, continuing inside of you until he couldn't anymore.

• once he was finally done, he leaned his head back to admire his handywork. how red you were.

• he gently rubbed your ass cheeks, massaging around the redness, before pulling on your hand to bring you back up.

• he didn't say anything, just planted a kiss to your forehead.

• he had a much softer tone now, definitely softer than 2 minutes ago.

• "i'm serious, don't go doing that with changbin anymore, okay? you're mine. they all need to respect that."

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slutforsnow · 10 months ago

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*evil laugh*

imagine president!coryo with a bratty!reader. Coryo hates when people talk back to him or tell him what to do.

Since he's president, nobody tells HIM what to do. expect reader🙈

"don't talk to me like that."

"aw, did i make you mad? didn't know the president was a little cry baby."

then he fucks readers brains out <3

Hold Your Tongue

Cw/TW: Coryo is his own warning tbh 💀, spanking, slut shaming? (HE WOULD), inappropriate use of piss, mean!Coryo, president!Coryo

As much as Coryo loves his dear wife, she could be a bratty bitch. Thinking she could run her mouth off to her little friends about how much their sex life had gone down since he became president and now had to attend all these fancy balls, galas, parties, and whatnot. Sure, it was nice to see his wife all dressed up like a doll and looking sexy, but running her mouth off? That was over the line.

That's how the couple landed in this situation. She had begun to run her pretty little mouth again, and one of her friends had said something along the lines of divorce.

The second the young president of Panem had ensured all the guests had left, he had bound his wife to their shared bed by her wrists, using the special handcuffs he had made for them; engraved with his last name to make sure she understood her punishment. She was also stripped of her dress and lingerie she had worn underneath it.

"I cannot believe you would allow your friends to say something so stupid," He began, slowly unbuttoning his red corset-vest. "Of all the things you had to let slide, it was a topic of divorce?"

"What's so bad about it? She was joking and drunk, I doubt she'll remember it, Coryo," She retorted, pouting a little and tugging wrists forward to try and free herself. Coryo had a tendency go purposely leave the cuffs loose enough for her so she could claw at his back, leaving red marks and little crescent moons from her nails. This time, however, the cuffs were tight enough to where she could barely wiggle her wrists. "Now, loosen the cuffs, I wanna get my makeup off!"

He didn't take lightly to her demanding tone. "Don't talk to me like that," He spat, dropping his vest on the floor, which was soon followed by his dress shirt.

"Awh, did I make you mad? I didn't know the president was a-" She was cut off by a sharp THAWCK against her skin.

Tears pricked her eyes, and she tried to blink them away. She knew Coryo was pissed, but to spank her with his belt on her thigh?

"I told you not to speak to me like that. Now look at you; crying like a little whore because I punished you like one. Don't you dare cry because there's going to be a lot more where that came from," He threatened, glaring down at her. Before she could think, Coryo raised his arm again and another thwack echoed in their bedroom.

"Now, I think we need to revisit a certain setting," He added, tossing his belt to the side and kicking his dress pants to the side, along with his black boxers.

"Wha- huh-" She questioned, semi-dazed from getting spanked only twice. Whatever strength ran through his veins really knocked the wind out of her and replaced it with dopamine.

"Don't play dumb," He chided, slamming his leaking member into her tight cunt causing her to let out a loud cry of pleasure. He continued his harsh pace while pinching and twisting her hard nipples as he marked her neck and collarbone with hickies.

All she could do while he overstimulated her body was moan, mewl, and scream his name. He was fucking the brattiness out of her, reducing her into a brainless whore, but did he care? No, he didn't care. She was going to learn one way or another.

Feeling her walls squeeze and grip on his cock, he smirked, pounding faster into her, pressing a hand to her lower abdomen. Something felt off about it this time; he could feel the bulge, which was normal, but it happened.

As Coryo was fucking his wife's brains out, she pissed while she came and he stopped his ruthless fucking. As y/n was coming down from her sex high, babbling utter nonsense, Coryo watched piss and cum leak from her folds leak onto the bed.

It was... entertaining.

Smirking to himself, he decided to continue fucking himself balls deep into her cunt, which resulted in more cries of pleasure, well more of pain this time, as he fucked y/n harder than ever before. He had to watch it again, no matter how many times it took.

Tags: @etfrin @hearts4court @snows-wife @delusionalbunni @kiraflowersworld @victory-scream0462 @curled-hair-red-lips @morallygrayboys @phoward89 @xoxo-eyeballs @thereeallink @graciouslyc @acidaciruela @wanda-maximoff-enthusiast @firstworldproblemthings

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