#Though it is implied that he's got a breeding praise kink so far!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

muzansfangs · 3 months

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Immoral cravings.

Starring: Nanami Kento x f!reader; Toji Fushiguro x f!reader; Hiromi Higuruma x f!reader;

Format: short-imagines;

Warnings: nsfw, age gap but the reader is 21, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, dirty talk, unprotected sex, praise kink, size kink, daddy kink, semi-public sex, hair pulling, spanking, marking the partner, power imbalance, immoral relationships, morally grey decisions and men, revenge sex, slut shaming, choking, overstimulation, breeding kink, implied reference to pregnancy (Hiromi);

Plot: they are older than you and you both know your relationship is not exactly healthy. The charm of an older man, a real one, the allure of having someone you should not even think about in such a lewd way were unbearable thoughts weighing on your conflicted mind, though. You gave in, in the end, allowing them to ruin you in ‘worst’ way possible.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Nanami Kento.

You always pested him during his lunch break. At first, it was unintentional. You just dropped by your father’s office to check out on him, walking down the corridor with that ridiculously short skirt. You were a sinful sight for him. He tried to ignore you, going as far as keeping on working and not flicking his gaze up to greet you.

However, not averting his eyes from the screen to soak in your curves was impossible. He started to loathe your beauty. The sound of your voice was enough to make his pants feel too tight. He did not blame you for striking up frivolous conversations with him, or wearing such provocative attires, though. At least, he did not accuse you of messing with him until he realized you had got the hint of what you were doing to him.

You turned into a pest.

Hopping onto his desk, defiant smile gracing your glossy lips, you made sure to spread your legs enough to let him catch a glimpse of your panties. Those stupid white panties, evoking purity and virginity. Did you think you could fool him? You were far from being a celestial being. You were a freaking demon relentlessly testing his nerves. But he was done with you and your pathetic entr’acte.

You were soon going to deal with the painful problem you caused him every single time you casually waltzed into the office with the only intent of driving him mad.

His hand latched onto the back of your neck, pushing your cheek against the mirror in front of you, was the clear sign of how much you had pissed him off. Your skirt hiked up to your hips, as your hands were firmly curled up around the edge of the sink, you let a strained moan leave your lips for a particularly hard thrust hitting your g-spot.

You had lost the count of how many times he had made you come, milking his dick deliciously to make it up for the pent up anger you had caused him.

“What is it? Don’t tell me you can’t take it” he growled, his lips fanning your earlobe as he geave your hip a squeeze, probably hard enough to leave some purple bruises in the shape of his fingerprints.

Your vision was blurry, as tears of pleasure brimmed up in your eyes, your make-up ruined at this point. His thrusts were punishing, the sound of his thighs smacking against your ass was so lewd you almost felt ashamed of yourself. Yet, you could not deny you had been craving him since the day your father introduced you to the workaholic Nanami Kento. The thought of him fucking you to oblivion had almost become obsessive at some point.

“Ngh— It’s too much, Kento” you whimpered, only for him to tangle his fingers through your hair and giving your strands a rough pull.

Mouth agape, cheek leaving the cold surface he had squashed your face against not too long before, you watched the man behind you stare daggers at you through your reflections in the mirror. You were a mess. Black lines of mascara staining your cheeks and your hair unusually disheveled were enough to make your stomach churn.

If your father found out about this you were screwed. Quite literally.

“You are taking it like the good little slut you are. Listen to this. — he rasped out, dragging his length a little slower down your dripping cavern to emphasize the squelching sound of your mixed juices — You are soaked, sucking me in so good. Be a good little girl and let me finish, hm? That’s what I deserve after enduring a painful bulge for six hours every fucking day” he stated, before pulling out of you until only his tip was buried between your folds.

You tried to open your mouth to speak, but when he snapped his hips forward, earning a scandalous high-pitched moan from you, nothing came out if not pleas.

“Gosh! Kento, o my God… It feels so good” you whined out, squeezing your eyes shut as you let him thrust into you once again, resuming that torturous pace that had knocked the air out of your lungs.

The blond man grunted, his cock twitching into you as he approached his incoming climax. His lips found the crook of your neck, nibbling and sucking on the skin as he even praised you “So beautiful, so obedient. You’re a good girl, after all” he chimed, before he stilled into you and filled you up.

Your inner walls tightened around him, your orgasm meeting his one as he held you close to him. It was not just hate sex. He wanted you. You were his precious doll. He wondered how was it even possible that his boss had given life to such a pretty, lovely girl like you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, before your dad comes back from the lunch break” he whispered, pecking your cheek.

Toji Fushiguro.

He had overheard you complaining with his son, Megumi, countless times before you ultimately decided to break up. You two had your fair amount of problems, naturally, but there was one that had made Toji grin from ear to ear. Being into a relatioship with his son for four years had made you pretty comfortable around his shamelessly handosme father too.

Since you often slept over, Toji had suggested you to leave some of your belongings over. Back then it had sounded like a good idea. However, now that Megumi and you had, not so suprisingly, parted roads, you needed to get your things back and forget about that failed love story once and for all. You did not want to cross paths with Megumi and texting his father to ask when you could drop by to collect your stuff, without stumbling into your ex, was your only option.

When he told you Megumi was out for dinner with some friends, you did not hesitate to show up at the door with an empty box between your hands and an apologetic expression plastered over your face.

That gorgeous face of yours, your soft eyes and your sudden bashful attitude were such a delectable sight for Toji. He was shirtless, like most of the time, causing your cheeks to heat up and your eyes to rake down his abs not so subtly. Was it not immoral and pitiful to thirst after your ex’s father? Most definitely, but you were not in the mood to self-deprecate.

Not when, five minutes later, you ended up sobbing on a picture of you and Megumi eating cotton candy together six months before. You had loved him so unconditionally. You had spent the best years of your life with him, feeling glad every single day for having met him. But everything ended, right? Good things were not an exception to that rule.

Hearing your cries, Toji walked up to you, spotting your frail frame sitting on Megumi’s bed and crying your eyes out. What a perfect occasion for him to sneak his arm around your waist and drawing soothing circles on your back. Toji was not an overly affectionate man, not even with his son.

But he was there for you.

You did not even realize how it happened. All you knew was that, after drying up your tears with his lips, Toji was hovering over you. Your shorts had been tossed across the room, as his large hand had slithered down your stomach and past the hem of your panties.

His fingers, plunged deep into your core, stretched you out so deliciously, stimulating all the right spots to make you moan out in pleasure. You hated yourself for having made such a comparison, but your mind kept on screaming Megumi had never made you whimper like that, not even when he was sheathed deep into you.

“Fuck it, you’re so tight, baby. That stupid son of mine could not even fuck you good, right? — Toji cooed, his tongue invading your mouth to swallow your moans with a fiery kiss — Not even when he was balls deep into you? Tell me you want my cock, tell me you want me to stretch you out and I will” he allured you to give in, watching how your thighs quivered and your hips bucked up.

How could Megumi be that dumb to let you go?

“Please, Toji, please…” you meekly choked out, as he sighed and withdrew his fingers out of your soppy cunt.

You whined almost in contempt, but then you watched as he leisurely hooked his thumbs underneath the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, dragging them down his muscular thighs, and your jaw went slack. His cock slapped up against his V line, veiny, girthy, making your mouth salivating.

“Let me make you feel like a woman. Spread your legs, pretty girl. Daddy’s coming for you” Toji instructed you, making you shivers and wonder what Megumi would have thought of you, if he caught you impaled on his father’s cock.

Your eyes darted on Megumi’s picture on his nightstand and shamed washed over you. No, no, you had to focus on Toji, not on Megumi.

“Oi, eyes on me. Don’t think about that boyfriend wonnabe” Toji scolded you, grasping your jaw roughly as he ran his the head of his cock down your slit to collect your juices.

You swallowed forcefully down, nodding your head as he grasped your ankles and settled them on the top of his shoulders. The touch of an experienced man could not be nearly be compared to that of a twenty-one years old man. Toji knew how to please a woman. The stretch was almost painful, but as he fucked you like that, folded in half, you saw the stars.

You squeezed his dick perfectly, your warmth engulfing him like a glove, as he groaned out in pleasure with every thrust.

“Look at you… So cute and going cock-drunk so easily. No, it’s not going to be the last time we do that, alright? I need to breed that sweet pussy of yours” he huskily said, grasping your lower lip between his teeth and tugging at it gently, asserting once again his dominance over you. Your orgasm, a powerful one after so long, came as a blessing, leaving your body numb.

Too far gone to articulate a speech, you nodded your head, while his hand wrapped around your neck and he finished into you after a few more sloppy thrusts.

You had no idea of the satisfaction he felt in watching his cum leaking out of you and staining his son’s bedsheets. Maybe, just maybe, he had thought about leaving it there for him to understand what his ex girlfriend and his father had been up to while he chewed on some insipid noodles.

Hiromi Higuruma.

He had always been there for you. Your father’s best friend, Hiromi Higuruma, was the man he trusted blindly around you, his daughter, his pride and joy. Everyone in your family appreciated him. Growing up, you had almost lost count of how many times he had joined family dinners and road trips. He was always there for you. Nor you, neither him, though, would have ever thought that in the future he would have bent you over his desk and fucked you to oblivion, scattering the papers carelessly to the floor.

Maybe it was because of his visceral passion, when he talked to you about his profession as a lawyer, that you had chosen to enroll to the local Law School. Everyone, even Hiromi himself, were ecstatic about your decision.

But ambition had pushed you far from home, making you explore other countries as an exhange student. You missed your family, your home, but you soon realized you missed him too. Reading through your textbooks, crying over hard exams, studying to exhaustion, you only thought about him. You wondered if he was proud of you, or if he missed you as much as you missed him.

Sometimes you texted him, he replied almost immediately, congratulating you for your brilliant career. You had become so beautiful. When your father showed him pictures of you, your body blossomed into that of a woman, he found himself cursing his name for the dirty remarks popping out in his mind.

The day you knocked on his office’s door, Hiromi lost the last shred of dignity left in him. You were astonishing, finally an adult young woman exuding a cunning aurea and charm. That tight black skirt and matching high heels you were wearing made his mind spin.

“My father told me you could teach me a thing or two. I’m struggling with a case” you started, your mild voice sounding like a wicked melody he would have listened to forver. He was rational. He knew he should have sent you away before you ended up ruining your relationship, but he could not bring himself to do it.

Human cravings demanded to be satisfied.

“Your father chose the right man for this task. By the way, you look stunning, if it was obvious” he remarked, clearing his throat and closing the door behind you.

The way your red-painted lips parted, your back straightened, while he led you down towards his desk gave away how you felt. He knew people’s reactions, he had seen enough victims and criminals, liars and murderers struggling with feelings in his life to say you were trying to camufflate how you felt or why you were there in the first place.

The moment you began skimming through your documents, all dolled up and finally a colleague, Hiromi fought his dark impulses. You would have looked so pretty bent over his desk, your ass squeezed in his calloused hands, as you moaned out for him.

Two hours into arguing over the best strategy to save your client from jail, his hand suddenly latched around your throat, pulling you close to his body. The sudden action made you gasp for air and blush, but as your hand landed flatly over his chest, trailing down his pectoral, arousal made you press your thighs together. You were so close, the thin fabric of his shirt barely concealing the outline of his chiseled body.

His hand was still wrapped around your throat, his hot breath fanning your lips so hazardously. No, this encounter was not going to end like one of your typical catch-ups. No, this time you would have not said a cheerful, sweet and innocent ‘Bye-bye, Hiromi”.

This time you would have screamed his name at the top of your lungs so erotically that he would have filled you up until his cum dribbled down your inner thighs.

“Your father was right. I’m going to teach you a thing or two today” he murmured, capturing your lips with his in a fiery, passionate kiss. His grip on your neck did not loosen for a second, when his tongue pressed unceremoniously on your lips, parting them and delving into your mouth to involve you into a deeper and fervent kiss.

You whimpered, hands clutching his shirt into your hands as he finally gripped your hips, hand reaching up to unzip your skirt in a hurry. There was no time to waste. You had to be his, now and every single time you crossed roads. When his hands cupped your rear, he groaned, kneading it with passion, as he spun you around to bend you over the desk.

“Don’t worry. When I meet your father, I won’t tell him how I almost fucked a baby into you tonight” he sarcastically commented, unbuckling his belt smoothly as you eagerly slipped your thong down your legs for him. His words went straight to your core, riling you up even more as you smacked the papers and books out of your way to make room for yourself on the polished wooden surface of his desk.

“How many women did you fuck over here?” you asked curiously, glancing at him from above your shoulder.

Hiromi grinned and kissed your neck gingerly, while the tip of his cock teased your bundle of nerves and the area around your opening, not pushing in yet. You were the biggest mistake of his life, but also the most beautiful one. You were a goddess, a flower he had watched blossom, a passion he had nurtured in your last year far from home, from him.

“I’m the one who asks questions here. That’s a cross-examination, princess” he reprimanded you, before delivering a harsh spank that made your body jolt forward. The edge of the desk pressing against your lower abdomen made you suppress a soft wince of pain.

The moment he finally entered you, his cock stretching you out gradually and with care, you arched your back and allowed your insides to embrace him tightly, almost as if you were scared he was going to pull out.

“Fuck… Your pussy should be illegal” he groaned, gritting his teeth as he bottomed out. With your ass pressed up against his pelvis, Hiromi lavished praises on you and the blissful feeling you were gifting him with.

And at the end of his feral, dominant thrusts, he made sure to send you back home with a gift too. Warm, thick, his.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! I’m finally exploring the JJK’s field better. I hope you enjoyed this scenario. Honestly, writing this down was a little hard considering how many times I got hot and bothered. Older men have always been my type. Also, the legal shit in there had to be added because, since I study Law, I wanted to make justice to my baby Hiromi. Anyway, likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

Until next,

x o x o.

TAGS: @doumadono @axesfordays @brittscafe @flakeygod @gyomeisfavoritespermcell @kr0wu @bleach-your-panties @buttercupmuffins @rebwwca

#nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami x y/n #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x y/n #higuruma hiromi #hiromi x reader #higuruma x reader #higuruma smut #hiromi higuruma x reader #hiromi jjk #hiromi smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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berry-potchy · 9 months

Text

Indulge Me

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader Rating: Explicit (18+ only please) Word Count: 7,072 Summary: You're a Spiderwoman who has ended up pinned underneath Miguel O'Hara in his lab one too many times. You're not sure what you are to him or what to call your relationship. And that would've been fine until your neediness kicked in and made you catch feelings. Surely, Miguel taking you to his room for the first time means something right? In which your lack of understanding of Spanish and denial of the hints Miguel drops are keeping you from realizing you already have what you want. Tags/warnings: pwp, p in v sex, rough sex, praise + light degradation, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, face sitting/riding, breeding kink, soft dom!Miguel, needy reader, recording, mirror sex adjacent, implied chubby reader, undefined relationship but soft feelings sprinkled in there as a treat, no use of y/n so lots of Spanish nicknames to make up for it, reader does not understand Spanish, brief sexy use of spider webs A/N: this is quite literally just a self-indulgent fic with most of my favorite Miguel x reader flavors. Not beta read but I hope you still enjoy it! (Translations are the end!)

Also on AO3

Edit: turns out some parts got messed up while I was posting here on Tumblr D: it's fine on AO3 though which is weird because I copied from this post instead of my doc because this has the correct spacing. Everything should be fixed now.

•🕷️────✧˖°˖🕸️˖°˖✧────🕷️•

Miguel has you standing in front of him between his parted legs as he sits on the edge of his bed. Even in this position, you were barely any much taller than him, only needing to tilt your head a bit to meet his red eyes. He looks at you from your face, down to the swell of your breast where his eyes are joined by a taloned finger on its journey downwards. You can’t help but let out a soft sigh as the sharp talon cuts through your spandex suit, fully exposing your soft chest to the cold air of his quarters. He would argue that the stretchy translucent mesh with a spiderweb lace design on your chest area didn’t do shit to cover the fullness of your tits anyway so he didn't understand why you even bothered with it. It was for style obviously but riling up Miguel O’Hara was a great bonus. You let out a shaky breath as he continued further down until he stopped right below your navel.

“Que linda,” he says in that low sexy voice of his, very different from the usual grumpy tone he uses to chastise you. He snakes his arms around your hips, bringing you closer to him and his hands find your plush bottom, giving them a rough squeeze. You are getting so worked up by how much attention you are getting from your usually sulky boss. Your heaving chest is right in front of Miguel’s face and his lustful gaze almost feels like it is burning you. The heat spreads from your chest downwards until it pools in the pit of your stomach and between your legs.

“You ruined my suit,” you pout, not really that upset about it. You think it was hot honestly but you just want to tease him “Am I supposed to go on missions with my whole chest out now? Walk around the HQ flashing everyone?”

“Of course not,” he says, rolling his eyes. He continues to take in your figure, hands gently kneading soft flesh on your sides “I’m making you a new suit. Should be done very soon. It'll be the same design but it will offer far more protection than this flimsy thing.”

“Making me a suit just like yours? What so you can control it hm? Deactivate it whenever you want to fuck me?” You laugh, wiping the imaginary tear in your eye until you realize Miguel is silent and looks like he’s been caught red-handed. You lightly slap him on his arm, flustered. “You’re a pervert, you know that?”

Instead of answering you, he brings his head forward to close his lips on a clothed nipple, his tongue flicking the sensitive erect bud. Your mouth opens as you let out a soft gasp at the sensation and you can feel the corner of Miguel’s lips twitch into a slight smirk. He teases your nipple alternating between flicking it with the tip of his tongue and giving it an audible suck. He pulls away for a split second only to give the same attention to your other nipple. You weave your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your tits. Your other hand is holding onto his shoulder for support as you urge him to keep going with your whimpers. His hands haven’t stopped exploring your body. His wide hands warm against your hips, ass, thighs, everywhere he can touch, squeezing your softness, committing every curve to memory.

“Migueeeel,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together to try to relieve the ache between your legs. You appreciate the attention to your nipples but your cunt was throbbing with need. You are so close to ripping the rest of your suit and panties off because the way the fabric is sticking to your wet pussy is becoming too uncomfortable.

“Miguel what, muñeca?” He pulls away, licking his lips. Those red eyes are now looking straight into yours and you feel yourself shiver. You try to look away but Miguel grabs your chin to keep you facing him. “Eyes on me. What do you want? Use your words.”

“Please,” your cheeks burn in embarrassment but Miguel just raised an eyebrow at you, unamused. “Stop teasing please.”

“Ah I see okay,” he says, taking his hands off you before standing up and walking to his closet.

“W-wait what are you doing?” you almost trip on your feet, knees feeling weak, as you chase after him. You grab his arm, tugging at it to get his attention as you pathetically look up at him.

“You said stop teasing so I’m getting you a shirt so you can go back to your world and get some rest,” he says as he looks through the neatly folded shirts in his closet. He’s stalling, pretending he was trying to choose one but he’s messing with you. There is no way he would let you go home tonight without getting at least a couple of orgasms wrung out of you. You aren’t leaving until he made sure you were stuffed full and dripping with his cum. You aren’t leaving tonight. Period. He knew you were too far gone with lust to figure that out yourself.

“Miggy, that’s not what I meant please,” you sob, pressing your body against him. Just the thought of being left unsatisfied was painful. “Please, Miggy, I need your mouth. And your cock please”

He finally looks at you and pulls you closer to him by your waist. You run your hands along his still clothed chest, feeling his heart beating with yours. You look up at him with glassy eyes, begging him to finish what he started. He coos at how desperate you were for release.

“You want my mouth and my cock?” he hums, still teasing. He easily lifts you up with one arm supporting your ass to carry you back to his bed. He’s carried you multiple times before but it never ceases to amaze you how he does it so effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, hips bucking trying to get some friction against your still unfortunately clothed cunt. “Where do you want them, muñeca? You have to be more specific. Which one do you want first?”

“On my pussy, please. I need your mouth on my pussy. Miggy, I wanna cum on your face” you sobbed against his neck “And then- and then I want you to fuck me. I want you to fill me up with your cock. Only you can fill me up so good, Miggy. I need it.”

“Good girl,” he whispers right next to your ear, making you shudder “Now, was that so hard to do? Was it hard to tell me what you wanted?”

“Yes!” you bite his shoulder and you feel satisfaction when you hear him break character and snort. He shakes his head, smiling fondly while he sets you down on the bed.

"Qué voy a hacer contigo?" he brings his lips to your temple to whisper more softly "Qué haría sin ti?"

Your heart skips a beat at the gentleness of his tone. You’re not sure what he said but the genuine affection is evident. Intimate moments like this with Miguel are slowly becoming more and more frequent and you decide that you don’t mind it. You even crave it now. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you lean further toward him.

He pulls away but the fond look on his face doesn’t waver. He slaps your thigh, making the soft fat jiggle just how he likes it, as he moves to get settled in his bed.

“Put those lovely hips and thighs to use and ride my face, conejita.” He lies down, anticipating, patting his chest to encourage you to sit down.

You didn't need to be told twice. You rip off the rest of your suit, your heated skin meeting the cold air of his room making your nipples pebble painfully. You quickly take off your panties and toss them aside with your ruined suit. You squeal as you scramble to get on top of him. You position yourself on top of his waiting mouth, straddling his face but just hovering over his face, hands on the headboard to keep yourself steady. The smell of your arousal is almost too much for Miguel to bear at this proximity. The urge to lock you in his room for the next few days and not let you out until you’re thoroughly fucked and bred is getting hard to ignore. His fangs extend as his animalistic urges surface, yearning to bite you and mark you as his.

“Are you trying to tease me now? How can you ride my face if you don’t sit?” Miguel’s tone is deeper than it was just a second ago. There’s a certain roughness to it, a growl in his voice that makes your hole clench around nothing. He grips your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh, waiting for you to sit down or he’ll make you. He’s trying to be patient, turning his head a little to mouth at the fat of your inner thigh. He licks a stray trail of your slick up your thigh, stopping just a breath away from where you both want his mouth to be. You feel him sigh, savoring your taste like he just drank the finest nectar, a promise of what’s to come.

“But Miguel–” you yelp when he suddenly pulls you down by your thighs and you immediately feel his tongue lapping at your aching cunt, his nose bumping deliciously against your swollen clit. He wasn’t going to hear your excuses. The only things he wants to hear coming out of your pretty lips are your moans and whines for more. The way Miguel is sucking and devouring your wetness so eagerly makes your head spin and your grip on the headboard tighten to steady yourself for a moment. He teases your hole, licking around the small opening before plunging in as far as he can, feeling you clench around his tongue. He grows impatient at your lack of movement and starts rocking you back and forth on his face by himself. He flattens his tongue for you to grind your pretty folds onto.

“Miggy, feels so good,” you whine, bending over to look at him from under you. He’s so pretty like this, forehead scrunched up from how focused he is eating you out, and when you get a peak of his nose and his cheeks, they’re shiny from being soaked by a combination of your wetness and his own spit. You take one of your shaking hands off the headboard to brush the hair away from Miguel’s forehead only for him to guide your hand into a fist, grabbing his hair, urging you to use it as leverage to ride his face harder. And who are you to say no to that?

You move your hips to try to match the pace he set for you, your thighs burn but you pay it no mind. Not when you feel that familiar delicious knot forming in your core. Your head lolls to the side and your eyes screwed shut as you immerse in the pleasure, grinding your cunt harder on Miguel’s tongue, nose, chin, anywhere you can get some friction, getting desperate to reach your orgasm.

“‘M gonna cum, Miggy. Gonn’ cum on your face” you whimper. You take your hand off the headboard and bring it to your tits, squeezing them, pinching at rubbing circles on your pebbled nipples. Miguel doesn’t stop lapping hungrily at your pussy, shaking his head from side to side as much as your grip on his hair allows. He groans as he watches in awe as you chase your own pleasure.

So close.

You’re so close you swear you can almost taste it.

Miguel could tell from how your hips stuttered and your pace growing frantic, rougher. He gives your clit another suck and that finally pushes you over the edge.

You feel the sweet release consume you like wildfire, your body tensing, back arching, toes curling. You can’t even hear yourself scream Miguel’s name, curling into yourself as he continues to suck on your oversensitive, pulsating clit. His hands held your shaking thighs steady, not letting you close them. It’s all too much.

“Miggyyy,” you sob pathetically, pawing at his head and his grip on you. You finally manage to pry an eye open only to see him watching you intently “Too much. I can’t-”

He doesn’t stop. He continues to lick stripes at your puffy folds and flick the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue albeit slower this time. He takes one of his hands away from your thigh and plunges two of his thick fingers knuckle deep inside your needy hole. He manages to find your sweet cushiony spot and puts enough pressure on it to make you see stars. That burning hot coil is back just mere seconds after your climax and if you could think at that moment, you’d think it’s unfair how he seems to know your body too well, knows just where to touch to make you unravel.

He adds another finger into your cunt, stretching you out for his cock, curling them inside you, and hitting your sweet spot over and over again. You know that it’s not enough, that it’s nothing compared to what’s coming for you. No matter how much prep you do it's going to be a tight fit and you can’t wait to be stretched to your limits once more. You stop fighting him, needing to chase after your orgasm, grinding your clit again on his tongue as he pumps his fingers in and out of your slutty hole.

Soon enough, you feel your second orgasm wash over you. You spill over his face, making a mess on his pillows and bedsheets. Your limbs go numb and this time you can’t even form words, just sobbing, babbling nonsense as your body shakes on top of Miguel. You would’ve fallen over if it wasn't for Miguel supporting your back with his free hand. You frantically tap his hand as you hiccup a pathetic “no more.”

Miguel relents and lets you catch your breath for a second. He kisses your puffy cunt one more time before moving you to lie on your back on the bed. He lifts your head to turn over the soiled pillow and fluff it up before getting you settled comfortably. You watch as he catches the dripping wetness from his chin with his equally soaked fingers and sticks them into his mouth, eyes rolling back and moaning at your sweet taste. You feel your cunt throb at the lewd action and you can’t help but let out a needy whimper from the back of your throat. It’s so unfair how much he affects you.

“Ay, pobrecita,” he coos at your flushed face with fat tears running down your cheeks as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and settles between your parted legs. “too much for mi conejita to handle? I know you can take more. Your pussy is so slutty, isn’t she? So needy. I doubt two orgasms is enough.”

He cups your face with one hand, thumb wiping away a tear on your cheek, his other hand brushing your hair away from your face, knowing how much you hate the feeling of it sticking to your skin. Your lower lip is jutting out in an adorable pout that he can’t help but kiss, catching your lip between his teeth. You scrunch up your nose and push his face away as you try to steady your breath.

You can see his naked chest rise and fall faster than usual, his mouth open to catch his own breath. You didn’t even notice when he disabled his suit but your eyes are thankful as you drink in the sight of his warm brown skin, stretching across the expanse of his unfairly defined body. He looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves, taking extra care to give him the most perfect proportions. How lucky are you to see this masterpiece up close? It would be a sin to not enjoy the view.

Your eyes trail down from his strong broad shoulders to his massive tits, and even further down to see his cock standing up proudly against his navel, the head dripping beads of precum and smearing it against his abs. Pride blooms in your chest as you realize that he’s just as affected as you are.

Your throat suddenly feels so empty. You lick your lips as you tear your eyes off his cock to look up at his face only to find his hungry gaze meeting yours. His eyes glint with danger as he takes in the sight of you in your post-orgasm haze, seemingly plotting his next move.

You didn’t have to wait long because, of course, he can’t keep his hands away from you.

He moves closer, making you spread your legs further. His hands grab at the back of your thighs to push them towards your torso, your knees almost touching your chest. Your dripping cunt twitches as it’s exposed to the cold air. Your hole clenching on nothing, begging to be filled.

“Que rico. Podría acostumbrarme a esto,” he says, his voice deep and rough with lust as his hands rub up and down your thighs, squeezing, feeling you. He drinks up the sight of you, so bare and exposed, all for him to take. “I could watch you like this all day. Maybe take a video of you right now so I can watch your pretty cunt pulsing, crying for me, anytime I want. Or…”

He takes his cock in one hand, running his thumb on the swollen tip to spread the beads of precum around, pumping his shaft with a few languid strokes. You yelp when he slaps his thick, heavy cock against your puffy folds.

“I could tie you up like this and keep you here for my own pleasure.” He starts moving his hips at a torturously slow pace, sliding his length along your wet folds, getting it lubricated by your own slick. He brings his hands back to your thighs and pushes them even further until you’re practically folded in half. “Keep you here to breed. Fill you up with so much cum and you’ll stay like this so it will surely take, yeah?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Miggy” you hiss as the tip of his cock keeps bumping into your throbbing clit “What’s stopping you from doing so huh? You have your web and your little surveillance bots. Put them to good use.”

“Of course, you’d love that, my pretty little slut,” he chuckles, shaking his head as he lines up the tip of his cock with your hole. Your eyelids flutter as you hold your breath in anticipation, waiting for that delicious stretch of being filled by his massive cock.

“Eyes on me, cariño,” he commands and you obey, looking up at him from under your lashes “That’s it, good girl.”

He starts to slowly press his cock into your greedy hole. Inch by inch, he sinks in, knocking the air out of your lungs. Midway, maybe, you can’t tell, there’s just so much of him, you start to feel a little faint, your shoulders tense and your mouth stuck hanging open. You feel so full of him, almost like he’s going to split you apart.

“Breathe for me,” he coos as he slowly presses more of him into you, filling you up more than what should be possible. He drapes your legs over his shoulders, his chest pressing against the back of your thighs as he uses his now free hands to cradle your face. You suck in a breath as he instructed and try to even out your breathing. “There you go. Keep breathing. Relax for me. Thaaat’s it. My sweet girl. So good for me.”

You preen at his words, warmth flooding your chest and going straight down to your pussy. His hands stay on your cheeks, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he pushes the last few inches in. You put your hands on top of his as you lean into his touch. He starts to grind his hips slowly, gently, getting you used to his size. The coarse dark curls at the base of his cock tickle your sensitive clit and the head of his cock softly probing at your cervix makes you roll your eyes back and whimper from the fullness.

“Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces, cariño,” he leans in to capture your lips into a deep kiss. Soft and gentle until both of you wanted more. One of his hands finds the back of your neck to tilt your head as he pleases as he tries to devour you. His tongue licks into your mouth and his fangs graze your lips with every movement. You hum against his lips as you feel him start to pull his hips back, letting his dick slide halfway out before snapping his hips forward to plunge himself back inside, his balls lewdly smacking against your ass. And he keeps doing it over, and over again making you moan oh so wantonly.

“Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor,” he whispers against your lips. The breathlessness and the hint of desperation for release in his voice make you shiver. His pace picks up, thrusts growing rougher with it. The wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you and skin slapping against skin echo around his room. The only other sounds you can hear are your combined sounds of pleasure, calling out each other’s names.

You pull on the hand that Miguel has on your cheek to lace your fingers together, his large hand easily dwarfing yours, his talons folded back to not hurt you. Your other hand slips between your bodies, travelling downwards to feel where you two are connected. There’s a deep rumble coming from Miguel’s chest and he presses your sweaty foreheads together, looking at you through half-lidded eyes. Your tight heat is milking his cock so perfectly and at this rate, he’s not going to last long.

“Miggy,” you whine, keeping your eyes on his. His irises seem a little more brown as he looks at you so tenderly, making you feel like you are going to melt into a puddle of goo. He brings your joined hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles and you think you really just might turn into goo.

His thrusts get messier and more frantic You feel the familiar coil building up in your stomach. You lift your hand from between your legs to press firmly against the area below your navel and the sensation is electrifying. You can feel his cock pistoning in and out of you from where you are touching. You can feel him rearranging your insides, molding your pussy to accommodate him and only him, ruining you for anyone else.

“Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía.” he moans into your ear, almost whiney and you know he’s near the edge. He starts peppering kisses on your neck, licking, sucking, grazing the sensitive skin with his fangs but not sinking them in yet. He takes the hand you aren’t holding to rest on your hand on your lower stomach. His thumb reaches further down to stroke your clit earning him a shaky whine from you.

“Cum for me again, hermosa,” he lifts his head to look at your flushed face. You’re sure you look like a mess but to him, you’re more beautiful than the brightest twinkling stars on a clear night sky. “Let me see your pretty face when you cum.”

And with that, you’re gone, pushed over the edge, screaming his name, squirting clear liquid up to his chest. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your hold on his hand tightens, and your legs on his shoulders shake and flail from another intense orgasm. There’s ringing in your ears but you faintly hear him cooing at you, whispering sweet words you can’t quite understand.

Miguel is still fucking into you with messy, frantic thrusts and ragged breaths but it doesn’t take long for him to follow, not when your velvety walls are pulsing, contracting on his dick. He puts a large hand on the space beside your head for support, his claws tearing through the pillowcase, as he drives his hips into yours a few more times before spilling inside you with a deep growl. He paints your insides with his cum as he rides his high with a few more shallow thrusts. You clench around him trying to squeeze as much cum out of him with your tight hole and he whimpers your name.

Both of you pant in unison, trying to catch your breath after that life-altering orgasm together. You turn your head to the side to kiss the inside of Miguel's wrist next to your head. Miguel doesn’t want to move. Everything is too perfect at that moment. You’re perfect.

But he has more plans for you tonight.

He takes your legs off his shoulders to wrap around his waist as he adjusts the both of you so he can lay down comfortably on top of you, putting most of his weight on his elbows on the bed. His dick still plugged in your hole, keeping his seed inside and refusing to part with your tight heat.

“Miggy,” you softly call him, looking at his relaxed face resting on your shoulder, eyes closed.

“Hm?”

“... pull out.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Fine, but only because I want to,” he grumbles, clearly not wanting to pull out. He gets on his knees again so he can at least watch your sloppy hole fluttering as he slowly pulls out. A thick milky ring of your combined fluid sits at the base of his cock. His eyes darken as he sees your cunt trying to clench at air and his cum starts to drip out of you. He can’t have that. He collects the trail of cum with his fingers so he can stuff them back inside of you.

“Miggy, come back here,” you pull at his hand and when he doesn’t budge, you add “You can just cum inside me more later. I need cuddles.”

That gets him to leave your fucked out hole alone. For now. Miguel kisses your stomach up to the valley between your breasts to your neck and lingers on your lips. He goes back to his earlier position on top of you. You drape your arms around his neck as you hum in contentment against the kiss. He smiles and moves to mouth at your sensitive neck, planting soft kisses, licking and sucking as he moans and pants in your ear.

“Miggy, I’m sleepy now,” you turn to look at him. You know what he’s doing. You know that he’s trying to turn you on again. And it’s working.

“You can do one more, mami. One more for me,” he says. He’s almost pouting, almost begging “You said I can cum in you again.”

“I didn’t mean right away. I just came three times already” you whined wrapping your arms around his broad chest. you want to feel him close.

“Mmm, you can cum four times. Maybe more because you’re such a needy little whore,” he murmurs into your neck, not stopping his ministrations. “My cum slut who loves being bred. We’re not going to end the night without your tummy full of cum I promise you that, cariño.”

You roll your eyes at him but you don't push him away and instead start playing with the short curly hairs at the back of his neck, ignoring the way your pussy shivered at his perverted words. You find comfort in his warmth and weight on top of you. You inhale his familiar deep masculine scent and it almost lulls you to sleep until you feel something wet and hard poking at your thigh.

“How are you hard again?” you say in disbelief as you look down and sure enough, Miguel’s dick is erect and ready to go for another round.

“It’s been a while since we had sex and my hand could only do so much to make up for your absence, cariño,” he huffs as gets up on his knees to turn you over and slap your ass. The sound of his palm meeting the sticky wet skin of your ass is undeniably lewd. “And what about needing to get you pregnant does not make sense to you? Get on your hands and knees for me. That baby is not gonna make itself.”

You plant your knees on the mattress and present your ass to him but you don't bother to lift your upper body from the bed. You keep your face down against the softness of his pillows. You didn't want him to see the giddy smile on your face from hearing that he hasn't slept with anyone else. His cum starts dripping out of your hole, coating your clit with creamy white and Miguel almost cums again on the spot.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” His large hands grab at your ass, kneading them. His thumbs spread your puffy lips apart so he can watch your cunt try to keep his cum inside. You groan as you force your arms to lift you up. “There’s my good girl.”

He smacks your ass which earned him a yelp from you. His lips curl up as he watches the flesh of your ass jiggle from the impact.

“Get on with it,” you whine, wiggling your ass to entice him to move faster. For someone who wanted to stop at the third round, you sure are impatient to be filled again.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he chuckles as he guides his cock back inside your wet heat. “There you go, mami. Back where it belongs.”

You moan loudly as you feel him grinding his hips, driving his dick as deep as he can reach inside you. Your eyes flutter close, as you savor the stretch of your hole around his fat cock once more. You couldn’t agree more with his words.

You hear Miguel from behind you input a command on a device. It beeps obnoxiously like it’s mocking you. It’s the last thing you want to hear while he is balls deep inside you, his girthy cock stretching you deliciously and filling you up so good. You think to yourself what was so important that Miguel can't put his gizmo down and enjoy the feeling of your warm, tight pussy on his dick? Right after insisting you can go for one more round?

You are about to snap at him for being ungrateful until a hologram appears in front of you. It shows a live video feed of his very own bed and a clear view of your fully naked self on your hands and knees getting ur insides rearranged by your boss. Your hair is a mess and your makeup is all smudged from how he made you cry from all the begging and overstimulation earlier. And he looks so big compared to you, having to bend low to align his hips with yours. You didn't even notice the recording devices planted around the room until now from how your brain was so fogged by lust. There seem to be at least three around the room from different angles. Well, it turns out he wasn’t just bluffing when he said he could record you earlier.

You wonder if he always had those set up. You haven’t really been to his room before. The few “encounters” you had with Miguel happened in his laboratory on his silly little platform, both of you too consumed by lust to think about moving to a more private area. It’s rather unlikely that they’re for actual safety reasons when they all just record the same area. You entertain the idea that him taking you to his room tonight is not just a spur-of-the-moment thing, that he might have all of this set up for tonight for when he has you writhing in pleasure on his bed. How thoughtful, you think. It makes you clench around his dick.

"You really are a pervert," you quip to annoy him. Clearly, the urge to mess with him hasn’t been thoroughly fucked out of you yet. You didn't even get to laugh at your own childish remark when Miguel abruptly starts thrusting his hips without warning, harder this time, dragging out a surprised whimper from you. His tip is bullying your cervix, testing the line between pleasure and pain but you love it. Your eyes meet Miguel's intense red glare on the screen.

"You're still talking," he tuts, his head shaking like he's some kind of pet owner trying to reprimand a disobedient pet "Let me fix that, cariño.”

He brings his large calloused hands back on you – where they belong, you think to yourself, echoing Miguel’s words. His left hand is firm on the flesh of your waist, you are sure they are going to bruise once he’s done with you. His other hand fondles your breasts, the sharp talons on his fingertips lightly grazing your soft skin. You know that when you look at yourself in the mirror tomorrow morning you’d look like you barely got away from being mauled by a feral beast, evidence of how Miguel O'Hara had his way with you and how you enjoyed every single second of it.

You cry out his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s so deep inside you that you can almost feel him in your chest, his thrusts fucking the air out of your lungs.

“Miggy, Mi…. Mig– ah, ah Mi– haaaa –guel ahhh”

Your eyes roll back at the continuous assault on your sweet spot and your cervix with every deep thrust. High-pitched whines come out of your throat as your arms give out from under you, making you fall face-first on the soft mattress. It all feels so good but overwhelming. You think you’re going to pass out.

“Que rico, mami,” he pulls your hair so you can face the screens. “Look at yourself. Beautiful. Taking my cock so well. Don’t worry. I have this all recorded if you’re too cock drunk to watch yourself now, cariño.”

You can't say anything back. You try really hard to come up with something but the only word that comes out of your mouth is “please” over and over again becoming progressively needier each time. He wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, his chest flushed against your back, allowing him to rock you back against his forceful thrusts.

“Gonn’ make sure I put a baby in you tonight, cariño,” he growls in your ear. “I can’t wait to see your tummy swell in a few months. You’ll look divine, I won't be able to take my hands off you even more.”

His eyes are back to a glowing red as they meet yours that are glazed over by tears and lust. His hand tightens his hold on your hair making you tilt your head further, exposing more of your neck for him to suck bruises on. Your tits are bouncing freely at his aggressive pace. Coupled with the high-pitched moans coming out of your mouth, it’s all so pornographic. It makes you feel like liquid fire is running through your veins and pooling into your stomach.

“You’re gonna cum for me? Let go. Come on. cum for me, mami,”Miguel grunts in your ear, his hand on your hair letting go so he can greedily grab at your tits. “I wanna feel your cunt pulsing on my cock. Can you do that for me? Of course, you can. Going to milk me dry.”

And just like that, you throw your head back on his shoulder, eyes screwing shut as another wave of orgasm crashes down on you. Miguel follows closely, filling you up with more cum that drips down your thighs and on the bedsheets. Your body slumps back against his, too tired to keep yourself upright. You don’t even have the energy to open your eyes, content with feeling Miguel’s warm body against yours.

“I got you,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and moving you to lie down on the bed. You hum in contentment, letting him care for your tired body. He bends down to plant a kiss on your forehead before he pulls away. You miss his touch already.

A beeping sound lets you know that he turned off the monitors. You feel him taking the soiled bedsheets, getting up from the bed to get fresh ones. You have half the mind to reach out to him and tell him he can clean up later so you can cuddle now. Your mouth, however, doesn’t want to move so instead you groan as you blindly reach your hands out.

Miguel chuckles at your antics, walking back with fresh sheets and a damp towel to wipe off the sticky mess from your body. He sits next to you on the bed and brings the towel to your tear-stained cheeks, gently dabbing the area around your eyes to get rid of the messed up traces of mascara and eyeliner. You take your hand to rest on your chest trying to calm your wildly beating heart.

The comfortable silence, unfortunately, doesn’t last long. You hear the unmistakable voice of Lyla cut through the air.

“Heeeey, bossman! Heeeey, girlie!” she drawls and your eyes snap open as you snatch the sheet from Miguel’s hands to cover yourself.

“Ay, coño! I thought I said no alerts tonight,” Miguel looks pissed, rubbing his face in frustration before moving to turn off his watch. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

“Wait, wait! Sorry to interrupt the big night, Miguel, but it’s an emergency. Trust me you’ll want to fix this now,” Lyla raises her hands in surrender before Miguel presses a button. She turns to you, looking apologetic and asking for help “Then you can go back to babymaking, right, dollface?”

“I–” you flush, choking on your own words. You begrudgingly turn to Miguel, your lower lip caught in between your teeth. You lower your eyes as an ugly feeling crawls up your chest.

“It sounds important. You should go,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to speak up any louder. “I’d say I can be back up but I can hardly move so you’re on your own, big guy.”

Miguel sighs and gets up, telling Lyla to send him the information and that it better be worth his time.

You are already sexually satisfied and tired – that’s what four orgasms could do to you – but you are a little upset and sulky that Miguel has to be called in for work right now. Stupid anomaly or whatever it is. It’s probably important and a universe out there might be in grave danger. But you can't help feeling like shit about it though.

You like how soft Miguel gets when he cleans you up after sex. You like it when he picks up your tired form and whispers soft words to you in Spanish. Plus, you were looking forward to cuddles. What’s the use of having sex in his room on his bed if not to cuddle afterward and wake up next to each other the next day? And then, suddenly, in the early morning light, realize that you’ve been madly in love with each other all along. Okay, you are more than just a little upset.

Miguel notices you pouting and your eyes getting glassy with tears as you try to roll off the bed. He shoots his glowing red web at you, trapping you where you are before going back to readjusting his watch.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, walking back to the bed as he makes sure his suit is all good and ready for the mission. He kneels on the bed to drag you to lie on your back.

“What are you doing? I'm going to take a shower,” you sniffle trying to avoid his eyes “I’ll take care of myself. you should go”

He hums as he takes both your wrists in one hand and forces them above your head to secure them together with his webs.

“Miggy?” you look at him and there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes. He darts his tongue across his lower lip and you feel a shiver run up your spine.

He doesn’t respond. He only keeps looking at you like he’s going to devour you once more. He brings your legs up to the position he had in before, knees to your chest, cunt fully exposed to him. You blush and your heart starts pounding in your chest. He shoots out more of his web, making sure you’re comfortable and your legs are securely tied in that position.

“Good?” he whispers and you nod in response “Words, cariño.”

“Perfect,” you moan, your chest heaving with need. He smiles at you fondly, caressing your cheek with a curled finger, and plants chaste kisses on your temple, your nose, and the corner of your mouth until he reaches your lips. He hums in contentment as he savors the feel of your lips against his. Then, he pulls away reluctantly and puts on his mask. He sets his watch to the right coordinates opening up a portal to wherever the universe needs saving.

“I’ll be back as fast as I can. I’ll make sure that anomaly regrets ever being made for interrupting my plans for our night,” he grumbles and gives you one last kiss through his mask for good luck. “And then it’s going to be all about you for the rest of the night, hm? I promise.”

He walks into the portal backwards so he can look at you until it closes and takes him away. Your heart flutters in your chest, anticipating what’s to come as you feel the webs digging deliciously into your soft flesh.

•🕷️────✧˖°˖🕸️˖°˖✧────🕷️•

Translations:

Que linda - how pretty

muñeca - doll

cariño - dear/darling

Qué voy a hacer contigo? - What am I going to do with you?

Qué haría sin ti? - What am I going to do without you?

conejita - little rabbit

pobrecita - poor thing

que rico - “[you] look good” (literal: tastes good)

Podría acostumbrarme a esto - I could get used to this

Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces - You're so beautiful. You don't know what you do to me

Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor - You feel so good. You were made for me, my love

Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía. - My beautiful girl, my sweet girl. Mine. All mine.

mami - mommy (as an endearment for a partner)

coño - pussy

A/N: so many thanks to my friend who helped me with translating and giving me tips on some better Spanish terms to use 🙏

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #potchy-writes #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x female reader #chubby reader

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melodygatesauthor · 4 months

Text

Goodnight, Princess

Yandere Dad's Best Friend - Santiago Garcia X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - For @romana-after-dark's Dead Dove December event!

PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!

Summary

Your dad's best friend accidentally discovers that you're a sex worker. He tries to let it go, but it eats away at him until things go way too far.

This fic was written in first person from Santiago's perspective. I know that's not normally something I do, but if you give it a chance I think you'll like it hehe <3

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, non-con, dubious consent, rape, sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, masturbation, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, porn with some plot, smut, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, non-consensual somnophilia, intoxication, implied murder, dad's best friend, age gap, voyeurism, hidden cameras. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (that means that what you see in the tags WILL be in the fic, don't act surprised when you get exactly what you were warned about.)

Word Count: 5.7k

I should’ve put a stop to it the second I realized it was you on the other side of that wall.

Don’t ask me how I knew. A good guess? A hunch? Maybe I’d known you so long that I could tell, based on some deep ingrained instinct, exactly what your lips would feel like wrapped around my cock. You sucked on it like you knew what you were doing, like it wasn’t a challenge for you to take something so big in that pretty little mouth.

I recognized the sound of your moans almost right away. The hum of your voice when you started sucking my dick was the same sound you made at dinner the other night when you popped a spoonful of mashed potatoes in your mouth. Does your dad know you’re doing this? Do you care? Do you ever worry about what he might say if he finds out?

Don’t worry princess, I'll keep your secret.

Our secret.

I bet you never thought I would find out about your slutty little side job. To be entirely honest, I didn’t think I’d find you working at a place like this. If you know me at all, and I know for a fact that you do, then you’d know I’m a lonely man. Years of serving in the military and the endless night terrors have made it difficult to find any sort of real relationship, so I’ve given up. That doesn’t mean I don’t still have needs, sweetheart.

Everybody jerks off, and I’m no exception. I don’t even know how many nights I’ve been in my room, cock in hand while I watch some crappy porno to get myself off. Every once in a while though, I like to treat myself to a little something more. Most people treat themselves to some kind of dessert, or a nice bottle of wine, but I like to treat myself to a night at Club BJ where all the dirty men go to get their rocks off.

I never thought I’d find you there.

Not a chance in hell did I think for even a second that you would be sucking random cocks on the other side of a gloryhole to earn a few extra bucks. You’re so good at it though, princess. How did you learn to swirl your tongue like that? Hm? Was it all the boys at college who taught you how to do that? Did they tell you what a pretty little girl you are while your lips were stretched around them?

They better have. They better have said thank you when they finished all over that beautiful face too.

I couldn’t speak to you. I couldn’t let you know it was me on the other side of that wall, so I hope the $200 tip I left you gets the point across.

When I got home tonight, you were running through my mind like a fucking hamster on a wheel. I’m not sure what to do now, but I can’t shake how bad I want to go back to the club for another round. I’d pay thousands, probably even tens of thousands, just to have more…

But I can’t do that. Not to you, and not to your dad.

That was the first and only time I’m going to know what it’s like to feel you sucking my cock.

—

There’s no possible way for you to know what you do to me, well, for you to know that it was me on the other side of the hole that you were making feel so fucking good. I’m coming back again, despite promising I wouldn’t. I’ve been trying so hard to let it go, but I fucking can’t. You’re like a goddamn siren luring me back to that shithole, and I can’t resist your call.

I’ll be back on Friday, because that’s the night they set the girls up with their asses sticking out through the wall. I would assume the club has you bent over some kind of table on the other side of that wall? I’m not sure, but Friday can’t come soon enough. I feel like I need you.

Maybe if you hadn’t looked at me the way you did when I saw you today at your dad’s for dinner. Were you looking at me like that on purpose, sweetheart? I mean, you must be…right? Or have I completely lost my shit?

I probably lost my shit, let’s be honest.

I’ve known your dad since high school. I even helped him beat up a guy that was hitting on your mom back when she and your dad had just started dating. I’m really not a bad guy, and I’ve never looked at you like this. I mean it. But how can I look at you any differently now? How can I look at you any differently after what you did to me? What you did for me.

“Santi, can you pass the butter?” You asked, looking at me, probably no different than usual but I couldn’t think of anything other than those pouty lips wrapped around my dick again.

Did you notice the way my hand shook when I handed you the butter dish? Maybe not, but they were trembling and to be honest it was fucking annoying. I’m a man in his late thirties and I can’t get a grip on the feelings I’m developing for my best friend's goddamn kid. It’s wrong, disgusting, hell I’d kill someone if you were my kid.

But you’re not, and I can’t fucking help it, even though I tried.

Maybe someday, if you ever find out about any of this, I’ll tell you about how much I hated myself (hell, I still hate myself sometimes), when I came home with that post nut clarity. That might’ve been the best blowjob of my life, but I stood in front of my mirror for a good ten minutes trying to tell myself that I’d never go back to that hellhole, Club BJs. I meant it with all my heart when I said it over and over like a mantra.

Now I’m stuck though. I’m stuck thinking about you bent over with a wall separating the top half of your body from the bottom with countless men fucking you until you’re so full of cum you looked like a damn overstuffed pastry. You deserve to feel good. You deserve to have at least one of those men be someone that cares about you.

I guess I’ll have to be the one to do it. I guess this is how I’ll justify doing something I know I shouldn’t.

I’ll see you on Friday, princess.

—

It makes me feel a little bit better to know that every man in there is at least checked for STDs before he gets to fuck you. Surely you wouldn’t have signed up to work at a place like this if they weren’t. You’re smart, you’ve always been so smart. It’s one of the things I admire most about you.

Still not clever enough to know that I was one of those men who stood behind you that night. In fact, I was your last customer of the night. Your pussy was so puffy and swollen, those guys really stretched you out and fucked you good didn’t they? Don’t worry, princess, I took good care of you and gave your little hole a break. I won’t lie, it took everything in me not to use you the way they did, but I’ll do that another time.

Tonight I was on my knees for you, grabbing onto both of your asscheeks and spreading you out so I could clean up the mess those filthy men made of my little princess. You sounded so surprised, I heard you gasp, when I started eating you out. Did you like that? It sounded like you did. I could feel your thighs shaking and at some point you even started rocking back and forth like you wanted more.

Maybe you wanted me to fuck you. Were you hoping that the mystery man on the other side of the wall would clean you up and then fuck his own cum into you too? Or maybe you were happy to have the break. Either way, I licked your swollen clit until I could hear your pretty moans on the other side and feel your cunt throbbing against my tongue. Your slick tastes so good sweetheart, can’t believe you made something so delicious all by yourself.

“You’re not going to fuck me?” You asked me. I could almost hear the desperation in your voice, like you were begging me to come back and take you.

“No.” I said firmly, faking a deeper voice than my own.

Next time I will though, don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t want anyone else.

—

The same night I ate you out I rushed home to jerk off. It sounds crude to say, but fuck I couldn’t help it. The taste of your pussy was still on my lips. I could still smell you soaked into the stubble on my chin and upper lip. I’m making a mental note to snag a pair of your panties when I come over for the barbecue at your dad’s tomorrow night. Maybe that will help get me through this mess I’m in. Maybe it will help me stop this shit.

I know I can’t keep doing this, but the feeling I get when I’m scrolling through your instagram photos from last summer in your bikini with my cock squeezed in my hand is incredible. I’m looking at those perfect tits hidden beneath such a thin layer of fabric, and your pretty rear is barely covered at all.

When I came it’s like I was possessed, blowing up a picture of your face just so I could imagine myself coating it in all of me. I don’t even really want to talk about how hard it was to clean that mess off my phone.

I feel like I’m losing myself in the depraved thoughts and fantasies I’m having of you. I woke up with soaked sheets and I thought I fucking pissed myself, but I didn’t, it was…something else. I’d dreamt of you. I can’t remember exactly what was happening in that dream, but it must’ve been good, and I’m annoyed that I still can’t remember what it was about.

—

A small part of me, the part of me that still had some morals left, was hoping you’d be working your day job. (honestly I can’t even remember what your day job is, aren’t you a housekeeper? Or a waitress or something?) At least if you were working I wouldn’t have to see you. I wouldn’t have to think about you more than I already was. Not to mention, I wouldn’t have had to sit there and watch you laugh with your ‘friend’ that you’d invited over.

You told your dad when you introduced him, “we’re just friends dad.”

You said it with such an attitude that both your dad and I knew better. You might’ve thought you were just friends, but that guy wanted more, and I knew you were going to give it to him. I could tell by the way you looked at him when you thought no one was paying attention.

I bet you didn’t think I’d hear you both making out in your room that night, but your moans call me now like a moth to a flame. The other barbecue guests had gone home, and your dad was drunk and passed out in his recliner, and I heard you faintly over the hum of the crappy reality show on tv. I didn’t pause the show, I didn’t want to wake up your dad, so I went upstairs silently, masked by the sound on the tv.

Initially, I wanted to walk in there and rip this kid off of you, giving him a few vicious but empty threats before sending him on his way with his tail between his legs. Your voice stopped me in my tracks though.

“Shh, I don’t want my dad to hear us,” you whispered, followed by a sweet giggle.

He won’t, princess. I thought, as though it were me you were talking to and not this loser.

You’d left your bedroom door open, per your dad’s request, such a good little girl. Despite being a grown woman, you still did what your daddy told you, and that’s the only reason I was able to hide in the bathroom and hear you get fucked while I jerked off and imagined I was with you instead of…whatever the fuck his name is.

“Oh god!” You whined, making my body shudder.

That guy doesn’t talk much, and that made it all the easier for me to imagine myself in his place.

When you said, “mm, harder, please…”

I was right there to say, “anything you want, sweetheart.”

I tried to move my hand in time with the light thump of your bed against the wall. It helped. What didn’t help was the fact that I could tell how little you were enjoying yourself. You were making the same sounds you made when you were ass out at the gloryhole. I knew I could do better, I knew I could make your body shake with pleasure like when I was kneeling down behind you with my tongue working overtime on your sensitive clit.

You were pretty good at faking it though, good enough that I was a leaking mess, precum dripping all down my shaft while I worked myself behind the wall your bedroom shared with the bathroom. I really wanted to go in there, tell that guy to get lost and give you the night of your life, but I didn’t. Instead I stood there, spilling a few globs of cum into some toilet paper and calling it good enough.

I was quick to head back downstairs before you even knew I was up there in the first place. That guy had the audacity to say goodnight to me in the kitchen on his way out the door. I let that go pretty quickly because then it was just you and me alone in the kitchen while your dad slept soundly in the living room.

You have no idea how badly I wanted to ask you for the pleasure of taking care of you, of making sure that you got off too, but I bit my tongue. Instead we made small talk about how your college was going and you asked me about Benny, Frankie and Will.

For a moment I had forgotten about all the things that transpired between us, or that I’d done while thinking about you, and you were just my best friend’s kid again. We were just two people who had known each other for a long time, catching up and making small talk. Then you had to bend over in your shorts, and my cock ignored its usual refractory period to spring alive and nag for attention again.

“You okay, Santi?” You’d asked so innocently, as if I didn’t know what that mouth was capable of, or what that body could take.

“I’m fine, sweetheart.”

I’m not fucking fine, but that doesn’t matter.

—

You slept like a rock that night, not even stirring in the slightest when I grabbed your panties out of your hamper by the closet. They didn’t look particularly fancy, so I assume you won’t miss them, will you? Doesn’t matter anyway, you’d never expect that I’m the one who took them.

I can’t even begin to tell you how disgusting I felt when I got home the next morning and I had placed your panties on my bed in front of me like a prize I’d won. I think I stared at them for at least a full ten minutes before I picked them up again and put them in my nightstand. I’ve never been a “panty sniffer” and I tried to convince myself that just knowing I had them in my possession was enough.

Have you ever read The Tell-Tale Heart? I remember when I was in high school I had to, and it stuck with me for some reason. Your underwear in my nightstand reminded me of that story in some ways. It’s like all I could hear were your moans in my ears and no matter where I went in the house the temptation to smell the remnants of your cunt on that fabric was following me.

So finally, here I am, two weeks after you first sucked my cock, and I can shamefully admit that I did it. I smelled them, and sweetheart, you smell so much better without all that cum inside of you. Of course the panties can’t compare to the real thing, which I don’t know if I’ll ever smell without six loads of spend inside, but god I hope I get the privilege one day.

Or maybe I hope I don’t.

I’m still so torn between the fact that you’re my best friend’s kid, and the way I want to bury my dick so far in that pretty little cunt that you’re seeing stars.

—

I was first in line tonight. It’s Friday night so your ass was out again and untouched this time. You weren’t wet yet which excited me for some reason. It meant I got to have the honors of making you nice and slick.

My hand looks so big against your ass, princess. I wish I could show you. That was me who rubbed your clit, making you shake and whine for more on the other side of the wall. I’m the one who slipped my thick middle finger in that greedy little hole, and then my index finger, and then the ring finger.

I’m guessing you liked it based on how slippery you got, and how much you moaned on the other side. Do you know how dedicated your customers are? One of them got pissed at me for taking too long with you. I can’t say I blame them, your pussy is perfect sweetheart.

God the feeling of sliding my dick between those pretty pussy lips is like nothing I’ve ever felt. As I bottomed out, I felt your walls were squeezing around me like you wanted me deeper, so of course I pushed in more, all the way until I couldn’t go further. You gasped like you hadn’t felt a hundred dicks inside you before mine.

I slid back again and slammed into you. I heard you begging me to keeping going, and saying, “fuck you’re good, holy shit!”

It was so hard not to say all the filthy things I wanted to when I fucked you, princess. I wanted to tell you how good you looked like that, pussy lips split around my cock like it wanted to swallow me whole. I wanted to ask you if you would like me to stick my thumb in your ass but decided to just try it anyway and see how you reacted.

You liked it.

At least it seemed like you did, your cunt clamped down around my dick like a damn vice grip the moment my thumb popped through your tight little hole. Did you like having something in your ass sweetheart? It’s shocking how tight you are, given how often I know you’re getting fucked. Some of the guys coming in behind me were big, some even bigger than me, but you don’t like them as much as you do when I fuck you, right? Of course not, because you don’t sound like that when you’re with them.

I caught a small glimpse of your eye through the hole. There was a small gap between the wall and your hips and you were looking at the same time I was. Did you see me? Did you have time to realize who I was? Did you come right then and there because you liked the idea of your dad’s best friend fucking you until you were too spent for anyone else?

Your orgasm forced me to come at the same time you did. I can’t even begin to tell you what it felt like to spill my load inside of you like I’d wanted to for so long. I remember so clearly being pushed up against your ass, pulling my thumb out of your hole so I could squeeze your hips and pull you over my dick further. It’s like I was willing every ounce of it to fill you up so full that no one else could. It’s like I was trying to make sure that when you look in the mirror a few months from now, you’ll remember the feeling of the man who fucked a baby into you.

I’m not an idiot. Well, I am, but I know that you’re on birth control. I know that no matter how many times I fuck you, the chances of you actually getting pregant are slim, not that I’d want to get you pregnant anyway. That would be too much, and I don’t want to go too far.

I’m not going to go too far.

—

I went to your house today.

I already had an excuse planned if I somehow got caught while you and your dad were out. If you or your father saw me, I’d say I came back for my hat. It’s not a total lie, I did leave my hat behind, but neither of you needed to know it was on purpose.

Do you realize how much dust has collected on the little stuffed bear you have on the shelf facing directly across from your bed, sweetheart? I doubt it, but it does make for the perfect place to put the small camera I bought.

I feel so fucking gross I can hardly stand to look at myself. But I can’t stand not to watch you touch yourself either. The glory hole is great, but I want to see that pretty face when you’re coming so hard you can’t breathe right, and I can’t do that when I’m on the other side of a fucking wall can I?

Seeing you later that night while I was at my own house, fist closed around my cock and watching you play with yourself is worth all the self loathing in the world. I had the camera feed pulled up on my laptop, and I could see you walking over to your dresser. God, what an array of toys you have. Do you have all those toys because you like them? Or is it because you haven’t found someone who knows their way around your body yet?

If it’s the latter, I promise you won’t need those things once I’m done with you.

Fuck, princess. The one you picked out is so damn big. I’ve seen you fit some pretty big cocks in that little hole, but I was shocked to see you squeezing lube around the head of that thing and gliding it over your pussy lips. You took a deep breath. Does it hurt to take such a fat silicone dick like that?

Fuck, I’m glad I put the camera where I did. Who had you so wet like that? Hm? Were you thinking about anyone in particular? Can you even get that entire dildo in there? I hated to admit how much I liked watching you struggle. My cock leaked so fucking much I thought I was going to come too fast, but I kept it together.

You finally pushed it in, and I’m so damn proud of you princess. You had a really hard time going all the way though, didn’t you? That tight little pussy of yours was stretched to its limit and you were only halfway in there. Why do you even have a dildo that size if you can’t get it all the way in your cunt? Are you trying to stretch yourself out for someone? You don’t have to stretch yourself for me, I’d be happy to take care of that for you myself.

I watched you push it in even more, I was so focused on the furrow of your turned up brow and the way you bit your lip while I stared. We both exhaled the moment you managed to fit the entire thing in. Your eyes rolled back like it was the best thing you’d ever felt. You really do enjoy being stuffed full, don’t you, sweetheart?

You started fucking yourself with it, the sounds of your wet cunt hit my ears like the sweetest music I’d ever heard. I stroked myself in time with your movements, my eyes focused right on your face, and my cock throbbed every time you moaned. Wasn’t your dad home tonight? Shouldn’t you be a bit quieter when you’re doing stuff like that? Maybe you just don’t care if he hears you.

You started fucking yourself faster so of course I was jerking myself harder, trying to keep up with you without losing it too quickly. It didn’t take long for you to come though. Did you like the feeling of that toy that much? You gushed around it, you choked back some moans but several other soft whimpers escaped, filling your room and hitting my ears through the camera feed. I came too, coating my knuckles and my stomach with so much cum I didn’t know I was even capable of producing that much.

Why’d you have to ruin it? Huh?

It was such a good fucking orgasm for both of us, and then I heard you say a name. It wasn’t my name though, was it, princess? I don’t know why that bothers me so fucking much. Maybe it’s because in some twisted way I’ve managed to convince myself that you were putting on that private show just for me. So if you did do it for me, then I don’t want to hear you saying some other guy’s name while you’re fucking your self like that sweetheart.

I just don’t.

—

I lost it today.

I really fucking lost it today, princess.

I found that guy. You know the one who fucked you the other night while I jerked off in the bathroom? That ‘friend’ of yours? The one whose name you called out instead of mine?

I found him.

I…

—

Did you miss me, sweetheart? I’m sorry, but I had to leave for a while, at least until things quieted down, and until you weren’t sad anymore. I know I should feel bad, but I don’t. I would probably do it again a thousand times if I had to.

You seemed fine during dinner at your dad’s tonight. I don’t really think you were that upset over the guy anyway, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to hear his name come out of that pretty mouth again. Ever.

After too much wine during (and after) dinner, I carried you upstairs. You never could handle your liquor. Remember when you were only eighteen and I would let you sneak a few shots under your old man’s nose when he wasn’t looking? Your dad was sleeping when I put you down gently in your bed. Your skin is so fucking soft it killed me to step away from you.

Your eyes opened for a moment meeting with mine. I felt my gut stir at the sight of you biting your lip. Why were you doing that to me? Didn’t you know how that would affect me? I couldn’t resist the way you looked at me that night. No one would’ve been able to. It’s not fair for you to put me in that position and expect that I’m just going to walk away. When I think back to it, this was all your fault, princess.

“Santi,” you said sweetly.

I almost climbed on top of you right then when you grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer. I almost grabbed your throat and fucked you through your shorts, but I held back.

“What, princess?” I asked you, putting a caring hand on your shoulder, trying to fight back my more primal urges screaming in my head.

You shivered, “I-mm-need something towearto mm-bed,” you slurred out.

I could see the curve of your hip disappear into your too-short shorts. I really don’t want you going out in public wearing things like that. I gave you my shirt to keep you warm. I hope it’s comfortable, sweetheart, I can’t let you go cold, can I? When I leaned down to put it over your head, I felt such a fucking ache in my chest when your face appeared again through the hole. Such a pretty babygirl.

“Thank you,” you smiled contentedly and snuggled into your pillows.

I gulped, “princess,” I whispered, slowly creeping my fingers toward the hem of your shorts where they rested on your waist.

“Hm?” You hummed, but you weren’t really awake anymore, from what I could tell.

When I touched your soft, exposed hip you didn’t stir at all, and when I slipped my fingers underneath your panties, then your shorts, you didn’t make a sound. When I pushed both down to your ankles and dropped them on the floor, you didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t have any fucking clue what I was going to do to you, did you?

Did you feel my fingers when I slipped them between your thighs and felt your little wet cunt? I bet you did, even if you didn’t realize you were feeling it. I thought I would wake you up for sure when I pushed you onto your back and climbed over you. And when that didn’t wake you up, I thought, without a doubt, that when I pulled my cock out and touched it against your slick pussy lips your eyes would shoot open and you’d catch me in the act.

You didn’t though, you stayed deep in your drunken sleep, and I could get away with doing anything I wanted to you.

I’m still wondering what I would’ve done if you’d caught me. What would I say? How would I justify this feeling I craved that only you could satisfy? Would I even need to say anything? Surely you would recognize the feeling of the cock that made you come so good in that glory hole. Surely you’d be desperate for me to keep going.

Being able to look at your face, even if you were asleep, while I slid my dick into your wet heat made my brain stop fucking working. I couldn’t even think. It was like my body just took over, hips rocking into you over and over without a care in the world for how loud the bed was creaking.

You still didn’t feel anything when I dipped down and kissed you, my hips still thrusting slowly against you. This isn’t a Disney movie, and I’m no prince charming, but you’re still my little princess, aren’t you? You’re like my personal sleeping beauty, except my soft kisses didn’t wake you from your drunken slumber.

Thank god.

I kissed all the way down your jawbone until I got to your neck. You’re so soft, and you smell so nice. I kinda wish you’d been awake so I could’ve heard you whimper and whine in my ear. I want to hear you tell me how good it feels to have my cock slamming into your pussy, sweetheart. I want to feel your lips on my neck, my chest, all over my body.

“You take me so well, princess.” I whispered in your ear, hoping that somewhere deep in your dreams you’d hear my words and know I was inside you. “You feel so good, I can’t stop. Never felt anything-so-fucking-g-good-I-f-fuck…”

I came so much that when I pulled back my cum poured out of you as if my cock was a dam holding back a river. I still wonder if I should’ve cleaned you up, but I didn’t. Maybe you’d remember that I was the one who brought you upstairs and you’d put the pieces together.

I can imagine it now, you waking up in the morning with a dried up substance between your thighs. You might not know what it is right away, but I’m sure when you go to the bathroom and notice the hickeys peppered all over your neck, you’ll know that something must’ve happened to you the night before.

I’m not sure what to do now.

I need to have you for myself, that much is clear. The thought of someone else touching you ever again is killing me, so I have to take you. I’ll take you away from all this shit, and I’ll take good care of you. You won’t have to work at that nasty place anymore, I’ll be sure of that. And please don’t worry, princess. When your dad is looking for you, and he needs a friend to help him through the tough times, and the times he’s missing you, I’ll be that friend. He will only be sad for a little while.

If things go wrong, and someone finds this…well I guess it’s a journal isn’t it? I won’t be able to deny the things I’ve done. I should burn it, but I can’t bring myself to do that. When I read it back, it’s almost like I can relive our time together. Someday I might show you this so you can understand why I did what I had to do, why I have to keep you.

Until then, I hope you sleep well tonight, your final night in your childhood home. I hope you enjoy your last breakfast with your loving dad, and that the two of you don’t argue before he leaves for work. Make sure you give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him you love him, because I’ll be over before he gets home from work.

Goodnight, princess.

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sinfulspencer · 2 years

Note

Aurora! Congratulations darling, on this incredible milestone! I am so proud of you. I cannot tell you how happy I am to have met you, you truly are a really good friend, I love you❤️

Now onto the smut, aka the natural progresses of our conversations…😏

Woman:

I think you know me well enough to already know that I want soft dom Spencer whispering fun stuff in my ear. I just want a nice little cuddle fuck on his couch and I want him to call me a good girl, that’s it, what else did you expect for me lmao?

(Dm me if you want, you know I’m happy to help, maybe draw you another stick figure lmao 😂)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (18+, minors DNI)

Warnings: SoftDom!Spencer, Sub!Reader, praise kink, degradation kink, dirty talking, oral sex (male receiving, implied female receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink

Words: 2.9k

A.N: Hope you enjoy this, my dirty minded friend @gettingrailedbyreid. Big thank you to my girlfriend @sassymoon for editing this piece.

Aurora’s 3k followers celebration

“I was waiting for you.”

With my eyes still half-closed, I snuggled closer to Spencer as he tried to sit on the couch without crushing me. It wasn’t unusual for me to fall asleep while waiting for him, especially when he got stuck in traffic for a car crash not too far away from where we shared our apartment.

I wanted to stay awake for him so that I could’ve greeted him with a kiss on the lips, but unfortunately my tiredness got the best of me. However, Spencer didn’t seem to mind as he pushed my hair off my forehead to leave a kiss.

“I know you were.” - his lips brushed right above the bridge of my nose - “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“No, I’m glad you did.” - covering my mouth, I let out a yawn - “I haven’t seen you in two days.”

His features were relaxed as his eyes never left my face, even though I could feel he was exhausted. The dark circles around his eyes told me he didn’t sleep while he was working on the case, but he didn’t seem keen on talking about it - and I wasn’t going to pressure him to do so.

“I’m happy you’re back home.”

“You can’t even imagine how happy I am to be home with you.” - Spencer dragged his fingers over my cheeks, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip - “I’ve missed you.”

Leaning forward, I stole a kiss from his lips. “I missed you, too.”

Spencer brought his right hand on my back, caressing it with the tip of his fingers while his mouth never left mine. I could feel in the way he kissed me how much he missed me and how there was something unsaid lingering in the air.

Something that felt overwhelming even for him, in a moment like that.

Spencer broke the kiss, surprising me. “What were you watching, baby?”

Shrugging, I bumped my nose against his. “Just an episode of Grey’s Anatomy, but I’ll finish it tomorrow. Now I want to be with you.”

“You can be with me and watch your favourite tv show at the same time.” - Spencer grabbed the remote from the floor - “I’m not going anywhere.”

Before I could answer, Spencer turned the tv back on and picked up the episode where I left it. I wasn’t really in the mood to keep on watching, mainly because his hands were distracting me and the warmth of his body was all I craved at that moment, but I couldn’t reply.

No, I was too lost in the sound of his voice to care about the other voices chiming in the back from the tv.

Cuddling against his chest, Spencer ran his fingers through my hair while I tried my best to focus on the scenes moving in front of my face. The characters faded away as my brain started to picture the way Spencer looked at me before kissing me, reminding me that what he wanted was obvious but he didn’t ask.

Maybe Spencer was too tired to make love to me, maybe he was too upset because of the case he just worked on so I didn’t pressure him.

Clinging to his shirt, I turned my face so that it was pressed to his chest. Spencer looked down at me but didn’t say anything, caressing my hair and enjoying my presence all around him.

I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t think about the characters making out - all I craved in that moment was my boyfriend inside of me, kissing me, whispering to me how much he wanted me.

Luckily, I had only ten minutes of the episode left so when the screen went black, I looked up at Spencer and stole the remote from his hands to turn off the TV. I didn’t want to watch anymore, I needed to be with him - in any way he wanted me to, in any way we could think of.

“Spencer?”

“Yes, baby?”

I looked up at him. “How was the flight back home?”

His eyebrows arched. “Uh, it went smoothly. I slept the whole time. Jennifer had to wake me up when we landed back in Quantico.”

Smiling, I gave him a kiss on the chin. “Good, I’m glad you rested before coming home.”

Silence fell in the room as Spencer processed my words. I realised they sounded quite wrong, but he didn’t seem to mind - actually, Spencer seemed amused by my choice of words. His lips twitched into a smirk that made my cheeks flush.

“Why did you want me to get some rest? Are you planning on keeping me awake the whole night, baby?”

Playfully smacking his chest, I shook my head. I was lying through my teeth and I thought that it was obvious, especially because my cheeks were burning even more than before.

Nobody in the world was able to read someone’s mind, but after years together, Spencer could read mind. Or, he could read my body language perfectly - so he didn’t fail to notice the way I clenched my thighs together at the thought of making love to him the whole night.

Images that he put in my brain.

Images that flooded my mind before he came home, before I fell asleep.

“Maybe. Would that be a problem, Doctor Reid?”

Spencer reacted at my words with a smile, tightening his grip on my waist before sliding his hands underneath the shirt I was wearing.

“No, not at all. I had the same idea.”

Chuckling, I settled between his legs with my chest pressed to his. Spencer didn’t waste any time and kissed me, keeping his hands on my waist before using them to take off my shirt and throwing it on the floor. His actions didn’t surprise me, it was obvious where the situation was going.

In the direction I craved, I hoped.

“Wonderful, because I’ve waited a little too long…”

Spencer pulled away from my lips. “Yeah? Then, why don’t you show me how eager you are to have me, baby?”

He didn’t have to repeat himself, because I already knew what I wanted to do. Even though the couch wasn’t my favourite space to have sex on, I didn’t complain - all I wanted was to put my hands on his body and ruin him, show him exactly what I thought for the past few days without him.

Spencer wasn’t surprised when my fingers unbuckled his belt. He lifted his lhips to help me take off his trousers and watched me carefully, praising me for looking so cute while doing something so naughty. I wasn’t even done, yet. I had barely started.

I wanted to take some time to watch his body reacting to my touch.

Pulling his boxers down, I pressed a long kiss right above his Adam’s apple. Spencer threw his head back and released a strangled moan, rolling his hips when my hand brushed against his hard cock.

“I’ve missed you so much, Doctor.”

He hummed, tightening his grip on my wrist. “Me or my cock?”

I chuckled, pulling away from his face. “Both. Mostly you, though.”

Spencer looked at me, gently pushing me down between his legs. He didn’t answer my words, admiring me as I settled between his thighs and came close to what I’ve been craving ever since Spencer jumped on the couch.

We were going to talk about everything after.

At that moment, we needed to be with one another physically.

Wrapping my right hand around the base of his cock, Spencer released a long moan as he looked down at me with his eyes filled with lust. I held back my laugh, pressing another kiss right below his head before sliding my tongue all around it. Earning a hiss from him, I closed my eyes and finally gave in.

Spencer ran his fingers through my hair and pushed my head down, forcing me to take his cock into my mouth.

“God, your mouth is fucking sinful.” - he whispered, lost in the pleasure I was bringing him - “That feels so good, baby.”

The praise was turning me on more than it should have. The mere idea of bringing Spencer pleasure was enough to almost push me closer to the edge, because that’s all I wanted to do. I needed to give Spencer pleasure, I wanted him to feel appreciated, worshipped, desidered, craved.

Spencer pushed his hips forward, making me choke a little as his dick hit the back of my throat. He didn’t retract, he just watched a single tear slip down my cheeks and my eyes closing quickly.

“Oh, is that too much for you? I thought you could take my cock inside your mouth, but I guess you can’t.”

His hand pressed me down more. My tongue swirled around his cock as the oxygen decreased, making it even more difficult to breathe and to focus. I didn’t care, I was lost in my desire to give him pleasure that I almost forgot to answer.

I knew why he said those words, I knew he was mocking me.

I pulled back, massaging his cock with both my hands. “No, I can. I can take it, Doctor, I promise. I’m good.”

“I know you are, baby. You’re my good girl.” - Spencer said, bringing his other hand underneath my chin - “Come here, I need you.”

I didn’t hesitate, immediately losing the grip on his private parts and sitting on his thighs. If he wanted me to bring him pleasure with my own body, I was more than ready to do it.

I missed being so close to him, I missed feeling his body underneath mine.

Spencer laughed at my eagerness as he tossed his own shirt off the couch. “You’re so desperate to have me, it’s pathetic.”

“Says the man who was almost ready to come down my throat while I sucked his dick.” - I mumbled, pushing his boxers down with my trembling fingers - “I’ll ask about how you’re feeling later, I promise.”

“Now you just need my cock inside of you, you just want to come.” - Spencer replied, bringing his hands up to my breasts - “I almost forgot how desperate you are to have me, baby.”

Humming, I raised my hips just enough to feel his cock press against my heat. “I guess I should show you exactly how desperate I am.”

Spencer didn’t have the time to answer me because I started to sink onto his cock, welcoming him inside of me with a low moan. His eyes never left my face while his hands dug into the soft skin of my hips, helping me to sit on his thighs.

I placed both my hands on his chest, stabilising myself on top of him.

“You’re so big, fuck.” - I whined, almost collapsing forward - “I’ve missed you.”

Spencer couldn’t speak, I could see the veins in his neck straining and his chest heaving. He was holding back, he wasn’t producing the moans I’ve fallen in love with so I decided to give him a little push. I needed to know I was bringing him pleasure, I needed to understand if he wanted something differently.

Rolling my hips, I pressed my body forward so that my breasts were in front of his face. Spencer didn’t waste any time, grasping both of them in his hands and squeezing them harshly.

“Doctor… You fill me up so fucking good. I’ve missed your cock so much.”

A long moan escaped from his lips, finally breaking the silence he fell in.

Spencer looked up at me, pressing another kiss between my breasts. “Yeah? You like having my cock so deep inside of you, baby? You like being all mine?”

His words sent shivers down my spine, forcing me to move quickly on top of him. Rolling my hips, I threw my head back and pulled away from his mouth but Spencer followed me. With his teeth leaving marks all over my breasts, he gave in to the pleasure and moaned my name.

I loved being his and I loved when he proved to me how excited I was to have him, to feel him, to be owned by the man underneath me.

Raising his hips to meet mine, Spencer started to push inside of me. I stayed still, allowing him to use me however he pleased. The sounds he was making were beyond this world, bringing me even more pleasure than his actual actions.

“You like it when I use you, don’t you baby? You like feeling all mine?”

I struggled to look at him, nodding my head. “I don’t feel yours. I am yours.”

Spencer dug his fingers into my waist, looking up at me. “That’s right, you’re all mine.”

I forgot about how tired I was. I forgot that my knees were burning due to the fabric of the couch scratching my skin. I forgot about how the neighbours could hear me moaning and whining in pleasure.

All I needed at that moment was to feel him come inside of me, showing me how much he missed being mine and owning me.

“Look at you, being a slut for me sitting on my dick. Does that feel good, baby?”

“Yes, you feel so…”

I couldn’t even finish my own answer, collapsing against his chest while Spencer barely gave me the time to take a deep breath. He was pushing in and out of me at a quick pace, raising his hips so that he could fill me exactly how I needed.

The pleasure was spiking within me, I could almost taste it.

“Oh, you can’t even speak.” - Spencer chuckled, sliding his hands down my back to smack my ass - “You’re fucking pathetic, but I love it. I love when you get like this, just a good girl desperately riding my cock.”

I hid my face in the crook of his neck, struggling to follow the rhythm of his hips. I was getting close to the edge of my desire, my brain was completely empty as a chorus of moans and whimpers fell from my lips.

I couldn’t speak, I was so lost in my own pleasure.

“Are you going to come for me, baby?” - Spencer asked, pressing a soft kiss right below my chin - “Do you want to come all over my cock? Show me how much you missed me?”

I nodded, scratching his shoulders before pulling away from him and sitting on his thighs. His cock was still buried deep inside of me, moving in and out at a quick pace that brought me closer and closer.

“Y-Yes. Please, let me come. I need it, Doctor, please.”

“Go ahead, baby. Come for me.” - Spencer whispered, cradling my face with one hand before bringing it down to my waist - “Come for me, baby. Let me feel how much you adore being fucked like this.”

His words and the way his hips hit mine over and over were enough to push me off the edge. Shocks of pleasure burned through my body as the orgasm washed over me, leaving me shuddering and whining on top of him.

“So fucking perfect for me, baby. You’re all mine, only mine. My good girl.”

I didn’t know how he was able to speak at that moment, because I couldn’t even form a complete and coherent sentence. My whole body was burning with desire as the last drops of my pleasure spilled out all over the couch, between my legs, down his cock.

Spencer didn’t stop his movements, allowing me to ride the pleasure he was bringing me before he fell apart and joined me in the euphoria. His moans echoed inside of our living room, covering the squeaks of the couch underneath our weights. The warmth he filled me with almost brought me to tears, as I fell forward with my face hiding in his neck.

I’ve missed the sensation of being owned, of being his.

Spencer uttered my name one last time as he welcomed me in his arms, nudging his nose against my neck.

Even if I didn’t see him, I knew he looked ethereal.

“I love you.” - I mumbled, closing my arms around his neck - “I love you so much.”

Spencer hummed with his lips pressed to my bare shoulder. “I love you more, baby.”

It took me at least five good minutes to come down from my high. My arms finally stopped shaking and my whole body came back to its normal temperature, though my heart was still beating rapidly against my ribcage.

Being so close to the man I loved and showing him how much I loved him were my favourite things to do, the only things that made me truly happy and made me feel appreciated, wanted, needed.

Giving him pleasure was everything to me.

Untangling myself from Spencer’s grip, I hopped off the couch. The essence of our desire dripped down between my thighs and I had to stop myself from collecting it, because I knew how much Spencer loved to watch the mess we’ve caused.

So I turned around, picking my shirt off the floor.

Spencer sat on the couch and brought his hands on my waist, staring at the liquids staining my skin. I looked at him for a brief second and I was almost down on my knees again for him: he had a satisfied smirk on his lips, the same smirk that made me fall on my knees for him too many times.

“Adorable.”

“Adorable? You came inside of me.” - I chuckled, turning around so that I was facing him - “You should clean me up, Doctor. You caused this mess.”

I barely had the time to release a strangled yelp when Spencer grabbed me by the hips and pushed me down on the couch again.

“Oh believe me, I’m going to do more than cleaning you up.”

It felt good to have him home with me again.

Please consider liking, reblogging, or commenting on the fic if you are on the taglist. Otherwise, you are essentially asking me to take an extra step to include you while offering me absolutely NOTHING in exchange, which is a pretty shitty feeling.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid smut imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut fic #doctor spencer reid #doctor spencer reid imagine #doctor spencer reid smut imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x fem reader

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risararelywrites · 2 months

Text

starring — bestfriend!miguel o’hara x female reader/you

sum it up — your man can’t do it like he can

be warned — smut, 18+ MDNI, cheating on your boyfriend (he deserves it tbh), dry humping, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (use a condom pls), cowgirl and lotus position, breeding kink, creampie, possessiveness, praise, he talks you through it

this many words — 5.3k (very roughly edited, got a little carried away..)

a word from our author — r&b lovers, this one is for you. and shoutout to ll cool j and boys II men (I suggest listening to the song if you’ve never heard it!)

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 |𝐀𝐎𝟑

you’re all a real man can need and ever ask for

On his back, spread out across his mattress, and staring at the blades of his ceiling fan, Miguel O’Hara knows he is royally screwed.

He can’t even remember the last time he’s had a crush, much less one this intense. You’re the first in years and for the past few months, you’ve been destroying him completely.

He doesn’t know up from down and he can’t tell his left from his right—all thanks to you. How it even happened, he doesn’t know but ever since he set his sights on you, everyone else became invisible.

There’s only two things stopping Miguel from making a move. One, you’re his best friend. Two, you’re in a relationship already.

but I don’t wanna violate your relationship so I lay back in the cut with a crush that’s a trip

You’ve been friends since college when the two of you ended up in the same study group. Fate brought you together and he knows only the grace of God allowed you to tolerate him for so long.

He’s always loved how outspoken you are. You and Miguel used to go tit for tat debating about everything from class readings, to theorems, to homework answers.

Despite all the back and forth, you shared a mutual respect for one another that survived graduation and blossomed into a real friendship when you both entered the adult world.

Years have passed and the both of you are still joined at the hip. You know everything that makes Miguel tick (saying made up words like “irregardless”) and he knows just what to do to make you smile (usually involves bringing you food). The inside jokes between you could fill a stadium.

He can’t lose that. It would kill him.

still, he can’t stop me from having daydreams

But Miguel can’t get you out of his mind. Every time he’s with you he thinks about what it would be like if you were his girl. How he would hold you, kiss you, please you, make you happy, and make you feel loved.

He wishes he could go back to before he decided he wants to be with you. That was easier. That was before Brian came along and made him realize his feelings for you. Though, by then, it was already too late.

Brian. Fucking Brian.

The scowl etched in his brows is deep, bordering on permanent if he doesn’t start thinking happier thoughts soon.

The thing is, Miguel doesn’t actually care about your romantic relationship. He just pretends to because you’re his best friend. Truthfully, your boyfriend could die today and he’d be on cloud nine.

Brian. Fucking. Brian.

He really needs to stop frowning but he can’t. Brian has you and he doesn’t. What is there to smile about?

He won’t say he hates him because “hate” implies that he cares somewhat about him—even if in a negative way. Miguel doesn’t care about Brian. Honest. He cares about how Brian treats you. So far, the reviews aren’t the best.

Any time you’ve brought up your boyfriend within the past six months it’s in relation to how much of a dickhead he’s being at the moment.

There was the time you argued over where to have dinner for your birthday. You wanted Italian and he wanted sushi and also to go 50/50.

One time you fought about him putting very little effort into your Valentine’s Day plans. He made last minute reservations at a cheap restaurant with terrible ratings and you got food poisoning.

Recently, there was a heated discussion over how much time you spent with Miguel.

Miguel found that one particularly intriguing. Was Brian threatened by him? Good. He should be. He would never treat you the way Brian does because he would treat you a billion times better.

Bottom line: there are a million reasons to leave your boyfriend and Miguel could name them all. You’re just too nice to leave him. You want to see the good in everyone.

To Miguel, you’re everything a man could need, more importantly, you’re everything that he wants. That idiot you’re dating doesn’t appreciate what an amazing, stunning, witty, hilarious, supportive, caring, and perfect girlfriend he has. That’s the part that drives him insane.

A sigh that crescendos into a guttural groan escapes him. He may be more than royally screwed at this rate.

Maybe this is more than a crush.

The more Miguel thinks about it, the more he knows that he has to tell you. Friendship be damned. He can’t stand by another day and watch you be with Brian knowing that he can treat you much better. If it doesn’t work out, you can still work as friends he’s sure. Either way, he won’t let you go.

I gotta take you from your man, that’s my mission

There’s a knock at his apartment door. He isn’t expecting anyone and he knows it’s not the mailman because they already dropped off his coupons and bills.

When he answers the door, he’s shocked to see you standing there wearing a scowl that mirrored his only moments ago.

It’s like a cosmic confirmation that this is his chance. He can’t send his thanks to heaven with you right in front of him so he settles for a megawatt smile instead.

“Hey.” Miguel greets you. He wants to gauge where you’re at before revealing his hand. The confession sits at the tip of his tongue. He’s eager.

“Can I come in?” You don’t even really greet him back and that’s his second clue that something is off.

“Yeah, of course.” He moves to the side.

You slide past him and make yourself comfortable on his couch.

“Thought you were busy today.” Miguel mentions, still trying to play it cool. He joins you on the couch after locking the door.

“I thought I was going to be busy too.” You shrug. Your attitude is seeping from your pores.

He could tell you were a bit upset when he answered the door but now Miguel can see it’s deeper than that. There’s a grey cloud thundering over your head that makes him glad he held off on his confession for now.

It doesn’t take a genius to pinpoint the culprit.

“Brian did something?” It’s less of a question and more of a statement. You confirm anyway, completely fired up.

“Oh Brian did something, alright. He forgot our six-month anniversary!” You toss your hands up in the air looking at Miguel like can you believe this?!

Unfortunately, he can. Immediately, Miguel sees red.

How could he do that to you? Is he stupid?

“He is stupid!” You agree which makes Miguel realize he said that out loud.

“And he’s such a dick!”

He is! Miguel thinks.

He’s careful not to say it out loud this time. Miguel isn’t sure if he should chime in or keep quiet while you’re in this volatile state. He chooses the latter while you continue.

“I don’t even know why I put up with him!” You’re up pacing in front of his coffee table now.

Miguel doesn’t know either.

“I do so much for him!” You really do. Too much if you asked Miguel.

“I try to be a good girlfriend and I know I’m not perfect but I don’t think I’d forget something as important as this. I guess that’s because it’s only important to me. It’s like he doesn’t even care about me. Sometimes I feel like I’m in this relationship by myself..”

Your steps have slowed as you process everything. Defeated, you plop back onto the couch beside Miguel.

“Go ahead, say it.” You gesture your hand at him.

“Say what?” Miguel’s brows furrow in confusion.

“Oh come off it, Mig, you were never his biggest fan. I know you didn’t really like Brian or think he was good enough for me. Just say ‘I told you so’ already. I can take it.”

Miguel didn’t know he was being that obvious with his dislike but regardless he’d never make you feel worse like that. Seeing you this downtrodden hardly feels like a victory.

I would hold you in my arms and ease your fears

“Come here.” He commands with his arms opened up. You can’t resist his embrace even when you’re not upset so of course you scoot closer and lay on top of him. His arms wrap around you and his lips press softly to your temple. You feel yourself finally relax after being mad all day.

“I’d never do that, okay?” He murmurs softly into your hair. “Not about this. I’m sorry that happened, hermosa. You deserve so much better than him. One day you’ll find someone who is.”

Miguel just hopes that when the time comes, you’ll let it be him.

The conviction in his tone makes you lift your head up from his chest to look into his eyes. You can tell that he means all of it.

“Yeah?”

“Are you kidding?” His hand comes up to cup your cheek. “Absolutely. You deserve someone who makes you happy. Someone who considers you and your feelings and goes out of their way to make you feel important. You’re an amazing woman… You deserve someone who can appreciate that.”

His last statement is a loaded one neither of you want to touch. It sits between you like a motion activated bomb. This pregnant pause is bordering on awkward but you can’t stop gawking at him and he damn sure isn’t going to look away from you. Finally, you speak.

“..It sounds like I deserve someone like you.”

Miguel is quick. “No, you deserve me.”

It doesn’t come as a suggestion. This is the confession he’s been sitting on for six months. The elephant he’s lugged in and out of every room with you like its personal caretaker. The hardest part for him is hardly over.

“Mig… do you have… feelings for me?”

hey lover, hey lover, this is more than a crush

“I have a lot more than feelings for you.” He could say the L word but he doesn’t want to send you running for the hills. It’s exactly what he means though.

You can read between the lines well enough. All you’re wondering is how long had this fine print been there and how are you just now seeing it?

“How long have you…”

“Too long.” Miguel huffs out a laugh but you know nothing is really funny right now. “Too damn long. I would’ve said something sooner but you were in a relationship… You looked happy.. I didn’t want to mess that up.”

“I wish you would’ve.” You confess.

Miguel’s mind must be playing tricks on him. He probably fell asleep when he was laying on his bed thinking about you earlier. That’s what this is, he thinks. There’s no way you said what you just said.

“What?” He says stupidly.

“I said,” You sit up straight and throw your legs over him to straddle his waist. “I wish you would’ve. You would’ve saved me a lot of time and a little bit of heartbreak.”

His head is spinning. He told you and you didn’t turn him away. Better yet, he can feel the weight of you holding his hips down because you’re on top of him telling him you feel the same. Wait. Do you feel the same?

“You have feelings.. for me?” Miguel asks from below you.

This big idiot, you think to yourself. If he didn’t get it in college of course he doesn’t get it now.

You lean down, pressing your chest to his and he groans softly. “I feel like I wanna kiss you. How about that?”

“Ok.” His hand holds the side of your chin and guides you to him. Your lips meet his it’s a soft kiss, you two are just getting to know each other intimately, and it’s sweet.

I kissed you softly and you yearned for more

His other hand finds your waist and urges you to grind on his erection. The bulge is rock hard even through all the layers of clothes but the friction is delicious against your aching clit. Your hips rock faster against him as your mouth falls open to spill a beautiful moan from the back of your throat. Miguel takes this opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth where he swirls it around and against yours.

Both of his hands grip your waist now. He helps you rub against him even when he pulls away to ask, “So is that a yes?”

“God,” You groan, breathless and nearing the edge, “For someone so smart you really act so dumb.”

Miguel’s bottom lip is caught between his teeth watching you use him like this to get off. “Need to— mm, need to hear you say it, nena. Please.”

“Yes, Miguel,” You mewl. That lazy grin appears on his face when he peers up at you. “Fuck. I have feelings for you.”

You’re so wet that you’re starting to glide against the seat of your panties but you can’t stop. Your movements are frenzied. You’re bouncing erratically on top of him with your hands on his throat not even caring if he can breathe. Miguel doesn’t care either he just wants to watch you come apart.

“Look at you, preciosa, you’re so close. Mmhm, so close I can see it on your face." Your hands around his throat have his voice so gravelly and thick with lust. It drives you crazy. Your release is building rapidly, quicker than you can keep up with. Miguel notices this right along with your movements getting sloppier.

"Don't stop baby," He chokes out.

"I won't." You promise with a whine. "Mig, I'm close."

"Yeah? Keep rubbing that pretty pussy on me like a good girl. I wanna see you cum so fucking bad.”

You want to please him, do everything he says, be a good girl for him. So you obey with a whimper. "Oh my god, Miggy. You feel so good." You completely fall apart on top of him, eyes fluttered closed, mouth wide open letting those pretty little moans escape you. He can't get enough but he holds back until he can get inside you.

"Así, baby, that's it. Back and forth, just like that. Tan perfecto, chula. My good girl. So perfect for me." Your hips have a mind of their own, still rocking against his bulge while your ride it out until they slow to a stop.

"C'mere." Miguel sits upright and grabs your chin to bring you into a searing kiss. This one is much different from the first. It's filthier. He's hungrier. You can barely keep your head up. Both of you moan into each other's mouths. His hands are everywhere on you. He sucks your tongue into his mouth with a delicious groan. You had no idea he was like this.

"You don't know how long I've been wanting to do something like that." Miguel pants into the crook of your neck.

"I think I may have some idea." You chuckle breathlessly.

"Let's get you out of these leggings so I can paint a better picture for you." He slyly starts tugging the waistband. You hardly put up a fight and raise up so he can pull them down your legs along with your panties.

"Can you lay back for me, pretty girl?" He can tell you love all these pet names so he keeps using them. “Need to taste you.”

kissin’ on your thighs under moonlight

You lay back with a pillow under your back to prop you up and your head settled on the arm rest. Miguel dives between your legs to plant wet kisses all up and down your inner thighs. You sigh in complete bliss while threading your fingers in his wavy locks. Your legs drape over his shoulders and his thick arms encircle your thighs, the palms of his hand ensure your legs can’t close without his say so.

searching your body with my tongue, girl, all night

"Estás tan mojada, nena. I'm starting to think you might like me or something." Miguel jokes. There's a comeback ready to go on the tip of your tongue but it dies in your throat the moment he places a wet smack of a kiss on your clit.

"Ohhh.." Is all you can say. His tongue parts your lips in a deep swipe at your core. Over and over again he repeats. Sometimes he stops to suckle your clit into his mouth. He loves the way you taste, way better than he ever imagined. You grip the strands of his hair tighter and bring his face closer to your pussy which elicits a groan from him.

"You like using me to cum, don't you?" You nod helplessly. That isn't good enough for him though. "Be a good girl, use your words."

Emboldened, you stroke his cheek and reply, "Yes, Miguel I like using you like a little fucktoy."

His smile is a wicked curve. He always did love it when you two went back and forth with each other. "There she is."

"Mhm. Now spit on it and make a mess for me, cariño." You order him sweetly. You’re so wet that you don’t really need it but he complies. His warm saliva lands right on your clit and the impact makes you mewl.

Miguel wants it on every inch of your cunt, his tongue spreads and laves it all over you mixing with your slickness. The taste, god just the taste of you makes him drool even more. He’s fucked his fist more than a few times to this exact thought before. Each time has led to a mess between his thighs, on his fingers and on his chest.

You hold his head to you with both hands bucking upwards into his mouth. So needy and desperate, Miguel thinks. He loves to see you so into it.

“That’s my good girl, mm.” He kisses your pussy between licking and sucking. “So needy.. fucking my face like this so you can cum all over my mouth.”

“Yesss.” You cry softly. That’s exactly what you want. “Hold your tongue out.”

Every command from you is a direct call to action for Miguel so he obeys. You grind against it and he moves his head with you, lapping like a dog at a water bowl. He pants like one too from holding his mouth open for you.

Your thighs tighten around his head, one hand goes to your breast to squeeze and the other stays in his hair to guide him. His wet tongue is stiff against your clit and just barely slips into you when he reaches your opening. Those shallow thrusts and swirls against you have you seeing stars.

“I’m close, I’m close, I’m—” Your sentence is cut off by a gasp and then the loudest moan you’ve made all night. Miguel clamps his lips around you and sucks hard. Your orgasm is searing. Tears prick the corner of your eyes. You don’t stop flopping until Miguel’s lips let go of your bundle of nerves.

He gazes up at you from between your legs, eyes meeting your fucked out expression.

"You're so fucking sexy, you know that baby?" Miguel presses kisses all over your thighs and lower stomach then finally on your lips. You cradle his head in your hands. His tongue swirls into your mouth giving you a taste of yourself.

“Think you can give me one more?”

Your bottom lip wobbles. “I need you insi—”

Just then, your phone rings. It’s Brian. Everything you and Miguel have done in the past twenty minutes comes back to you in a flash.

Miguel can tell just by your reaction who’s calling. “Answer it.”

“No! I don’t want to talk to him right now!” Your phone is still vibrating in your hand.

“Why not?” Miguel grins. He knows damn well why not.

“Because we— I can’t just— No!” You toss your phone to the opposite end of the couch. It stops ringing once it lands on the cushion. You let out a sigh of relief.

“Don’t tell me you’re having regrets?”

“No! Never I just didn’t expect him to call. It feels like he knows what we did.”

“Let’s tell him what we did.” Miguel runs his hand along your side, peeking under the fabric of your shirt. You shudder. His breath fans across your neck as he whispers “Leave out the guess work.”

You’re putty in his hands, pliant and eager. “Miguel—”

Your phone rings again. You try to reach it but it’s in Miguel’s hand before you can get to it. His finger hovers over the green answer button.

“You want me inside you?” He asks, holding you by the throat.

“Please..” You plead, eyes looking up at him through your lashes.

“End it. Because I have no intention to share you.” He places the phone in your hand. You answer just before the last ring.

“H-Hello?” Shit. You already sound guilty.

“Speaker.” Miguel mouths. You press it so that both of you can hear.

“Be honest with me, are you at Miguel’s place right now?” That makes you snap. Not even a hello in response. Not a Happy Anniversary. Just inquiries of your whereabouts.

“I.. cannot believe you right now, Brian.” You’re frowning hard but Miguel’s scowl has you beat.

“We talked about this, babe, I don’t like you being around him so much.. I don’t trust him.” Miguel scoffs. He has every reason not to given what you two have done today but that’s not the point

You are irate and vengeful now. Hell hath no fury quite like yours.

“Fine! Yes I’m at Miguel’s, Brian! Do you wanna know why I’m at Miguel’s? Because you forgot our fucking anniversary! All day I waited for you to say or do something to even acknowledge it but you didn’t so yes! Yes I went to his place in hopes that he would cheer me up! And he did!” You chuckle mirthlessly.

“He let me fuck his face, Brian. I guess you can say that cheered me up a little but I’m still a little hurt from what you did to me.”

“I’m sorry, baby, please don’t do this. I love you.. God, I’ll make it up to you I swear. Just let me make it right, please. I’m so fucking sorry.” Brian pleads. He actually does sound a little sorry. That’s too bad. Maybe it would’ve worked in the past but you’re over it now.

“Oh, I bet you are.” Your lips form a pout even though he can’t see you.

“It’s a little too late for that because,” You look to Miguel who’s watching you with lust-heavy, half-lidded eyes. “Now he’s gonna let me ride him. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Mhm.” Miguel confirms. His arms wrap around you and he lifts you off the couch. “Gonna make it all better, nena.”

“See?” You tell Brian. “He’s gonna make it all better. Don’t worry about me anymore, we’re done.” You hang up not even caring to hear his response and drop your phone on the couch.

“Take me to your bed.”

“Sí, señora.” Miguel is practically floating up the steps as he carries you. This couldn’t have gone any better. You want him and he wants you and nothing else is in the way of you being together.

He places you down on his bed and reaches for the hem of your shirt to lift it over your head. The sight of your tits makes him groan. You’re going to be the death of him.

“Your turn, Mig, shirt off.” You don’t have to tell him twice. His t-shirt gets lifted above his head and discarded to the corner of the room. Your eyes rake over his chest unabashedly. It feels good to shamelessly stare at him the way you used to try not to. Dammit he looks good.

“Shorts too.” Your voice is a little shakier this time. A fresh helping of arousal pumps through you now that has you crossing your thighs.

He goes for the waistband about to tug them down when your hand catches his. “Wait! Let me..” Miguel raises his hands amused. You hook your fingers into his shorts and slide them down.

His fully erect length springs up against his stomach. He’s already leaking from earlier when you bounced on it through his athletic shorts.

“My, what a big cock you have.” You gasp dramatically.

He decides to play along. “The better to fuck you with, querida.” It makes you giggle. You lean back into the pillows and he follows you like a predator. He slides behind you so that your back is to his chest and his head rests in the crook of your neck.

“What big hands you have.” You spread your legs wide allowing his hands to run along your inner thighs.

“The better to stuff this greedy little pussy with.” He pats your center with a flat hand. Your head falls back against his shoulder when his fingers begin to draw lazy circles, spreading your wetness all over your clit and puffy lips.

“I need them inside of me, Miggy.” Your eyes plead better than your mouth. He can see that you’re desperate to be filled.

“Keep your eyes on me.” Miguel sucks his ring and middle fingers into his mouth and slowly plunges them into you until they reach the hilt. All without breaking eye contact.

“Mm.” Your face scrunches up a little in discomfort, his fingers are so much bigger than yours that it feels like three maybe four.

“Mírame.” He kisses the furrow in your brow. You open your eyes again to find his reddish-brown ones admiring you. “Just like that. You’re doing so good f’me, baby.”

“I’m so full.” You whimper up at him. The stretch is so tight but so good that your eyes start to glaze over.

“Ya sé,” He kisses your plush lips. “That’s what you wanted, right? This dripping pussy. You just want it stuffed full until you can’t think anymore, hm? Is that why you pulled my fingers right in?” Your mouth falls open but no sound comes out.

“Answer me.” Miguel chuckles lightly. He knows you can’t. He can feel you growing wetter by the second, his fingers start to glide easier against your spongy walls. “Tell me how good it feels, bebé.”

He nips at your neck for not answering fast enough. “So good,” you choke out, “It’s so good, Mig.” You clutch the back of his neck and watch his fingers go in and out. Faster and faster.

“You hear how you sound around my fingers? They’re drenched, baby. Listen.” The loud squelching noise it makes upon every re-entry makes you sheepish.

“Ahh! I’m close, baby!”

“De veras?” Miguel tuts and pulls his fingers out. “Can’t have that, baby.”

“Miguel.” You whine. Frustrated isn’t even the word.

“Next time you cum, it’s going to be around my cock not my fingers. That’s what you really want anyway. C’mon, bring your leg over.” Miguel lays down and pulls you on top of him to straddle.

“I’ve thought about this a million times.” He grabs his dick and tugs up and down in languid strokes. “Now I get to make it real.”

You can see him leaking precum from his tip. You wonder how it will all fit. You can’t wait for him to try.

“No condom?” You ask breathlessly. It's not an issue for you, you're just shocked.

“I’ll pull out baby, I promise. Lift up for me.”

Your hips lift just enough for you to grab him at the base, line his tip with your entrance and slowly sink down. “Fuck, inch by inch, baby, you can take it. I know you can.” Miguel coaxes you further down until you bottom out.

“Ohh..” You both moan loudly at the feeling of him all the way inside you.

“That’s it baby, good fucking girl.” Miguel praises. His hands rub up and down the sides of your body while you get used to the stretch. You can feel every vein and every twitch of his cock inside of you. “Tell me when to move.”

“Slow.” You tell him. “It’s been a while.”

His hands hold your hips steady while you lift up slowly to the tip and back down to his base. “Dios.” He groans almost winded already. You repeat the action a little faster loving the way it sounds when he stuffs you full.

“Your pussy feels like heaven around me, bebé. Just like I knew it would. I love watching you bounce on me.”

All you can do is moan at his filthy words. You love it when he talks to you like this. You bounce up and down a little faster with the help of his hands on your hips. You can feel the tip of his dick kiss your cervix with each thrust.

“Don’t get quiet on me, nena, tell me how it feels.”

“So deep, Miggy.” Your head is thrown back from all the pleasure building up inside but you can hardly articulate any of it.

“Ay, pobrecita is that all you can say?” His poor baby, so cock drunk that she can barely hold her head up.

“You see how good it feels to be mine? Aren’t you so glad you belong to me now?” Miguel pistons his hips up into you throwing you off your rhythm. You fall forward onto his chest while he continues to fuck you.

“Nobody else gets to have you. You’re my angel,” The sound of his thighs slapping against yours gets louder and harsher while he whispers to you. “Don’t you ever fucking leave me.”

“I won’t.” You promise meekly.

“Good. I would lose my mind.” He shifts into an upright position and brings you with him. “Wrap your legs around me.”

You follow his orders, resettling onto his lap. The new position hits a spot deep inside you that has you curling your toes behind his back. “I’m close, Miguel. Let me cum please.”

“Do it, hermosa, I wanna feel you cum around my cock so bad.” Miguel encourages, rolling your hips against him.

That feeling that’s been building up in the pit of your stomach washes over you completely, making you gush around him. You bite his shoulder to keep from screaming at the top of your lungs as your orgasm shudders through you. Your pretty gasps for air fill his ear.

He holds you close while you ride it out, making sure your hips keep a steady rhythm for him. The sound of him entering you is so much louder now with your extra wetness.

"Keep going for me, amor, I’m almost there. M’gonna put a baby in you so everyone knows who you belong to."

"Shit, Miguel." You clench tighter around him at the idea. He picks up on it of course.

"You like that? M’gonna cum so deep inside you and I want you to take all of it. Tell me you want it."

"I want it, baby." You grab his chin and look into his eyes. "Please. I want you to fill me up so, so, so bad. I need it."

"Oh fuck, oh fuck." Miguel's thrusts get sloppier as he grunts harshly. "Only you get to have my cum, nena. It's yours, fuck, it's yours."

You feel him shoot off thick ropes of cum deep inside your pussy. His chest heaves as he catches his breath but his hold of you remains. It's tighter even, like he's afraid to let you go.

His lips kiss the top of your head. "Mine."

"Yours." You reply.

we experienced pleasure unparalleled into an ocean of love, we both fell

🏷️ 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: @pxtched @to-the-endoftheline @huniedeux @12vamppp @aniharas @oharasfilipinawife @ayrusss @ultravioletrayz @mreowmoreww @thesilenthill @posttraumaticscribblez @pu-ssyprinc3ss

#from the desk of risa ✍🏽#is it hot in here? 🫦#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara #Spotify

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angry-geese · 3 years

Text

Slasher!Geto x Reader

Warnings: nsfw/mdni. modern/college au. extremely dubious consent, predator/prey, knifeplay, glove kink (kinda??), manhandling, fingering, mating press, breeding kink, creampies/unprotected sex, slight praise kink- Geto calls the reader a good girl. afab reader. dark content warning

Notes: my first time writing for Geto so i apologize if hes ooc. implied Yuji x Megumi (its mentioned like once), and Yuji and Sukuna are brothers in this. this wasn't beta read so ignore any mistakes lol

Word Count: about 3.4k

jjk masterlist

You weren't sure what to expect when your friends invited you out to a bonfire with them. The place you recognize; an old abandoned barn, mostly used to hide out and smoke in. It's long fallen into disrepair. The property is abandoned. At one point there was a house too, but the forest is too dense, and it's become too overgrown for anyone to bother with.

You’re not dressed for the weather; shivering as you snub out your cigarette. Your shoes are beginning to hurt your feet. You're certain you'll have blisters in the morning. You never expected to be here long, and had plans to go to a party at a friend's house afterwards.

Yuji and Megumi had to be in on it. Yuji could hardly keep a secret, let alone pretend to be dead to save his own life. You saw the smile he cracked as he sprayed fake blood all over his boyfriend. Megumi even asked if this was where he was supposed to fall, before saying "oh, right" and dramatically flopping to the ground. As you wandered off to smoke, they were gone, probably off to terrorize more of your friends.

It looked real. A prank. Someone—probably Yuji's weird brother, Sukuna—must have planned this. He’s done it before. Sukuna takes far too much joy in scaring people. You must have gotten turned around when he started chasing you. You can't be very far from your friends.

The path narrows as you get closer to the road. The car shouldn’t be that far away. There’ll be a creek, with a bridge, and then it's another few yards until the clearing. At the end of the lot is Maki’s car, and the field with the barn.

Instead of stumbling across the lot, you find a gravel road. Though it's clearly not used often, the bushes are trimmed back away from the road, and it's fairly well maintained. There's a ‘No Hunting sign’ nailed to a tree. The paint is faded. It must be a few years old.

The road is easier on your feet than running through the woods. You figure if you don't come across the parking lot, then you'll come across a house, or someone who knows where you are. Preferably one of your friends. Nobara. Or maybe Yuji. They seem to know the area better than you.

You have no choice but to walk. The sun is setting, and you'd rather not be lost in the woods after dark. You doubt your friends will leave without you, but you don't want to keep them waiting any longer than you have to.

At the end of the road sits a house. It's a little old, though much like the road, it hasn't fallen into disrepair. The paint is peeling in some spots, but in others, it appears to have been fixed. The shutters and curtains are drawn tight. No car sits in the driveway. A bit of smoke drifts from the chimney. Though it's faint, and white. The fire must have just gone out.

The thought of a warm fire makes you shiver. A chill settles into your bones, cutting right through your thin costume.

The porch light is motion activated, and comes on when you walk up the steps. The bright light makes you wince, but the sign of civilization is comforting.

When you knock, no one answers.

"Hello?" You call out. "I was at this party and I kinda got separated from my friends. I could use some help."

A hand reaches out from behind you, grabbing you by the collar. You stop like you’ve hit a brick wall. The force is nearly enough to knock the air from your lungs.

“Gotcha!”

The man spins you around to face him. You don't recognize him. He’s too small in stature to be Sukuna—or Yuji, for that matter, but too tall to be Nobara or Maki. Not to mention his hair is black, and far longer than either of theirs. He can’t be Choso, either, as he’s dressed differently than Yuji’s other brother, who had left hours ago. His costume wasn't anything your friends were wearing; Yuji and Megumi were both dressed normally, and Inumaki was a ghost, though he took his costume off halfway through because he couldn't see.

He’s not one of your friends—or anyone you recognize. You didn't see him in the car, or in the parking lot, or even in the barn.

Your gaze turns to the knife in his hand. He must be one of Sukuna’s friends. He’s probably in on this. He’ll know how to get back.

“Oh!” A soft gasp leaves your lips. The corners of your lips turn up in a grin. “Don't kill me, I want to be in the sequel!”

“And let a cute thing like you slip out of my hands?" He asks. "No way!"

You laugh, and roll your eyes. He’s not unattractive, though he isn't your type. Really, you just want to get back to the bonfire and warm up. Maybe if you were drunk you’d give that a second thought.

“I’ve gotta be getting back to my friends,” you say, “they're over-”

He's not letting go. If anything, his grip on your wrist tightens.

“Yeah. Very funny.” You say. “You can let me go now!”

This draws an amused sounding hum from him. His bright, black eyes scan you, taking your form in hungrily. It's predatory. Like he's a dog eying a small rabbit. You want nothing more than to shrink under his gaze. He drags the tip of the knife down your exposed stomach.

The metal is cold against your skin. Goosebumps raise along your exposed flesh. The blade itself is clean. Almost unsettlingly so. Wouldn't a prop have fake rust? Or at least be a little dinged up? Or have that same dullness that plastic does? It feels too real to be a prop. Like it'll actually cut you.

"I don't think I will."

The contents of your stomach have seemingly turned to cement. You let out a soft “whatthefuck” under your breath.

"You're not with Sukuna, are you?" You ask, swallowing hard.

He lets out a soft ‘tsk’ before saying “you and I both know the answer to that.”

The reality of the situation is slowly setting in. Your eyes widen.

“Oh christ. Don't-” a noise resembling a sob escapes you, “don't hurt me!”

"You think I'd just kill you here?" He asks. "No. You're far too special to kill now,

"Why don't you start running? I'll give you to the count of three. Then, if I catch you, I get to do whatever I want with you."

His sing-song tone of voice sets you on edge. Every fiber of your being is telling you to run. Your eyes are wide, though you nod. There's something oddly hypnotic about his gaze. His bright black eyes. They're not the eyes of a man, but an imitation of one.

He cracks a soft smile as your eyes meet his.

"Good girl," he says. "I like girls who listen,

"One,"

Your feet are moving before your brain is telling them to. Your hands find the door handle, and twist. It's unlocked. You throw it open, squeezing through the crack in the door, and slamming it shut, doing both the handle's lock, and the deadbolt.

"Two," his voice is muffled now.

There's a soft thud as something hits the door. You kick off your heels and make a break for the top floor. Somewhere downstairs you hear glass breaking.

"Three!"

The voice comes from inside now. He couldn't have broken down the door. You must have left something unlocked. Maybe he came through the back?

Humans are persistent hunters. While other species wait for a time to strike, humans simply follow their prey, letting it run and run until it tires itself out.

Adrenaline is beginning to kick in. You find the first closet and shut yourself in it. The room is cramped, and smells faintly of moth balls. You crouch, trying to make yourself as small as possible. You can peek through the shutters in the closet door. They're angled downward, allowing you to see out, but not allowing him to see in. The jackets hanging in the closet do little to conceal your shaking form.

That's when you notice something out in the hall. Your phone. It lays on the floor, face up. It must have slipped out of your hand. You didn't even hear it drop.

He walks by you at first. You listen to his footsteps as he checks each room on the second floor. He's gone long enough that you think he's finally gone downstairs.

Your phone begins ringing. Not quietly, either. You lean a little closer to the door, trying to get a look at the caller ID.

It's Nobara.

Shit!

Shitshitshitshit! Not now!

A shadow covers the door. Instinctively you jump back. Fear prickles in your fingertips, and leaves your palms damp with sweat. You clamp a hand over your mouth to help muffle your breathing, which you’re certain he can hear. The shadow stops, standing there for a moment, before moving on.

Your foot slips, knocking over an umbrella leaned against the wall. You let out a sharp gasp, followed by a: “Shit! No!”

Before you can catch it, the umbrella clatters to the floor. You could almost swear the noise echoes through the house. You're shaking now, your body trembling as both your hands move to cover your mouth.

You're dead. You're so dead!

He leans down just enough for your eyes to be level with his. Though the closet is dark, you know there's enough light for him to see you. The look in his eyes is unreadable. His head tilts to the side. He clicks his tongue, either with disappointment, or excitement, you can't tell.

"There you are," he coos, "found you!"

He’s smiling. Not a predatory grin, but a smile that you’d give a friend after not seeing them for a while. It makes you shudder. As the door opens, you're preparing to make a break for it. He seemingly senses this, and wraps his arms around you before you can run.

You squeal, and kick your leg out, slamming into his shin. Hard. He lets out a grunt of pain, his grip around you loosening. Really, you were hoping to hit somewhere soft, but seeing as he drops you, this'll work. You're certain it hurts you more than it hurts him- it feels like kicking a brick wall. Pain shoots up your leg, from your toes, to your hip. But enough adrenaline has kicked in that you can ignore it.

You've only stunned him. You make it around the corner, to the top of the stairs before he grabs you, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Let me go-” you try to bring your elbow out, but he grabs your arm, caging you against the wall in his arms. The back of your head presses against the cool wood of the wall. His gloved hand moves to cup your face, tilting your chin up to look at him. Your eyes screw shut. If you kept them open you'd only be looking at him through tears.

His free hand trails up your thigh. There's no warmth to his touch. All you feel is the cold leather of his glove as his hand wanders under the hem of your skirt. Your hand clamps over your mouth to stifle your gasp as you hear something rip- your tights.

“No panties?” He clicks his tongue. “Dirty girl…”

His words make your face burn. Either with shame, or with arousal, you can't tell. It takes a considerable amount of energy to open your eyes. It's like your body doesn't want you to.

Geto’s face is mere inches from yours. The smell of something sweet is on his breath. He says a soft “good girl” upon seeing your eyes, and the shameful look that fills them. He's speaking to you like a lover. Softly. He's touching you like one too. The thought of all this makes you nauseous.

Then why are you enjoying it?

You refuse to meet his gaze, instead turning your eyes to the ceiling.

Something trails to the slick spot between your legs. It's too cold to be his hand. Though his fingers aren't particularly warm, this is something else. It's metal.

The handle of his knife.

He's… violating you! With his stupid knife!

You want to scream. You want to bite his hand. You want to run.

Your body freezes as the handle of his knife presses against your slick cunt, slowly working inside. That's when your eyes fly open, unblinking. It's hardly bigger than two of his fingers; there's little resistance as it presses into you. You can ignore it until he angles it in a way that presses against your g-spot.

“Oh!” He gasps. There's genuine excitement to his voice. “Is that sensitive?”

You shake your head. But both of you know you’re lying.

Your thighs clamp together in an attempt to shove him away. The moment his gloved fingers find your clit, your legs turn to jelly. The feeling of the leather is odd, though not unpleasant. You grip onto his forearm to help steady yourself. Your nails leave little crescent shaped indents on his arms. Your teeth dig into your tongue to help stifle the soft moans that threaten to fall past your lips.

Your orgasm rolls over you far sooner than you expected. He practically forces it out of you, working you with your fingers until you’re nothing but a writhing, moaning mess. Your slick drips down your shaking thighs, onto his fingers, which he cleans off in his mouth. The moan that leaves him is nothing short of lewd. You couldn't possibly blush any more.

In your weak state, there's little you can do to stop him as he hauls you into his arms, throwing you over his shoulder. All you can do is claw at his back pitifully as he carries you to the nearest bedroom.

A squeal escapes you as you’re tossed roughly onto the bed. The mattress does little to cushion your fall. He’s quick to climb on after you, caging your body under his. His fingers work under the hem on your shirt, shoving it—along with your bra—up over your tits. Soft grunts and groans leave his lips as he rubs his growing erection against your thighs, groping your breast in his free hand. The warmth of your skin seeps through his glove, into his hand. He drags the tip of the knife across your exposed stomach. The sight of your slick cunt is almost enough to make his cock stand to attention.

With one hand he undoes his belt, shoving his pants—along with his boxers—down his hips. He's not too intimidating in size, but he's certainly not small. The hairs towards the base of his cock are dark and unruly. Precum leaks from the head as he gives himself a few strokes.

“Oh god-” You can't tell if your words are meant to be a curse, or a prayer.

“There's no god here, my love,” he says, “only me.”

There's no stopping the moan that falls past your lips as he presses into you. Your hand moves to cover your mouth. Your teeth dig into your fingers so hard it feels as if you’ll draw blood.

His free hand—the one that's not groping at your bare breasts—moves to cup your cheek. Your eyes only meet his for a moment. His bright black eyes never leave your face, studying your every movement. From the way you blush, to the way your face countries in pleasure.

“Look at you,” he coos, “how pretty.”

Your eyes screw shut. You’re desperate to look at anything but him. More words of praise fall past his lips. His thumb softly traces your cheekbone. You don't understand how someone can be so rough, yet so gentle.

The kiss he pulls you into is rough, and full of need. Geto nibbles at your bottom lip until you allow his tongue to enter your mouth. A line of saliva connects your lips to his as he pulls away.

The sound of his hips slapping against yours fills the room. His nails leave little crescent-shaped indents in your skin as they dig into your hips. Heat pools between your legs, only furthered by his erratic thrusts. He wants to take his time with you. And he will. But you just look so nice under him, blushing and hiding your face in your hands, he can't help it.

Your orgasm has left you sensitive, and far more reactive to his touch. You can practically feel each vein and ridge of his cock as he ruts into you. He leans down to suck a dark mark into your pulse point. It makes him wonder how your heart must be racing. How fight or flight should be kicking in. He's overcome with the urge to mark you as his.

Geto can't tear his eyes away from the sight of your breasts and how they bounce with each thrust. He licks a stripe down your neck, chuckling when you shudder at the feeling of his warm tongue. His lips are glossy with a mix of your saliva and his, and bitten a shade of pink.

A whimper escapes you as he pinches cruelly at your nipples. The soft noise makes his cock twitch. He leans down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, nipping at it softly.

Geto’s hands plant on the back of your knees, shoving them towards your chest. The new angle allows him to hit deeper than before, the tip of his cock just barely kissing your cervix. The sensation is strange. You've never had a partner hit so deep before. It's not painful—not like you expected it to be—though it's not the most comfortable feeling.

“It's too deep!” You say. Your nails have dug into your palm hard enough to leave marks.

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips. The look in his eyes is nothing short of predatory. You feel small. His gaze only makes you want to shrink.

“You can take all of it,” he says, “can't you?”

You frantically shake your head, but he only coos at you, telling you that you can take it.

Geto gives no warning when he’s about to cum. It does cross his mind to say something, but his thoughts are too clouded with pleasure to act on it. His mind is too hazy with the thought of you fucked full of his cum, having it leak from your swollen cunt. Or how you’d look swollen with his child.

His body seizes for a moment as he cums, spilling his seed into your unprotected womb. The signs are there; in the way his breathing grows heavier, or how sweat beads on his forehead. But between your own pleasure, and his constant taunting, it goes unnoticed by you. He never stops thrusting, only fucking deeper into your abused cunt.

You’re none the wiser until you feel something dripping down your thighs.

When you finally cum, you cum hard. Your orgasm rolls over you like a wave, pulling you under and spitting you out wrong.

Geto pulls out slowly, so as to not spill any of his cum. The little that does fall out, he quickly plugs back in with his fingers, warning you “not to spill a drop.”

You roll onto your side facing towards the window. Though you can't see him, you feel his eyes on your back. His hand strokes your hair, down the curve of your spine. Such an action should be that of a lover, not… him. But your body gives in to his touch before your mind does, slowly relaxing against him. Your face buries in the pillow, which is cold, and smells of mothballs.

Exhaustion has set in, leaving your limbs heavy, and your head feeling light. The feeling of his fingers across your back does little to help that. You're not certain how much time passes as you lay there. The sun has disappeared behind the trees entirely. You can only fight off sleep for so long before it threatens to drag you under.

“Did you really think I was done with you?” He asks.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #getou x reader #suguru getou x reader #suguru getou smut #geto smut #not osha compliant #cw dubcon #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

claimed || alpha!Andy Barber x reader

summary: an interrogation with an alpha is no place to have an unexpected heat.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut (dub con; the reader goes into heat and can’t think clearly enough to say no), a/b/o dynamics, loss of virginity, mentions of misogyny/discrimination against omegas, vague noncon and violence references, kinda housewife kink, possessiveness, breeding kink, praise, overstimulation, knotting, slight bondage (reader is handcuffed), slight pain kink, implied/subtle age gap, pregnancy mention at the end, kinda soft!dark andy but he's really not that dark

"This would be a lot easier for both of us if you started telling the truth."

You chewed your lip, looking away from the man across from you; it was impossible to keep eye contact when his gaze bore into you like that, when he gave you that stern, dominating look.

Andy Barber was so obviously an alpha, he was one of those types that just reeked of it. Figuratively— with the way he towered over you, his masculine body and strong features— but also literally considering his scent was filling the room now: pine, cinnamon, sage, and something a little bit sweet that made your mouth water.

It made sense for an alpha like him to have a high-powered, high-pressure career like this; he probably got a real kick out of squeezing information out of scared betas who couldn’t stand up to him.

And that was the role you were going to play now, because he was wrong: it would not be easier if you told the truth. If he knew what you really were, you’d be doomed.

You’d been hiding successfully as a beta for a long time by now, and you weren’t about to give it up now, even if it would likely have the charges against you dismissed. Omegas lived sheltered, oppressed lives; sought constantly by alphas, they had their pick of the finest since omegas were so rare, but until mated they were extremely vulnerable— and afterwards they were usually made to be subservient housewives, constantly bearing children as a consequence of their extreme fertility.

Maybe some omegas were okay with that, plenty probably loved that lifestyle since it was sort of the instinctual habit of an omega by nature, but not you. Never you. You wanted a life, a real life, your own life as more than an alpha’s mate. Thankfully you’d found the right mix of suppressants and perfumes to hide your scent, the right work schedule so you could always be home for your rare heats, and voila: to the rest of the world, you were a beta.

Being a beta meant being unnoticed, unacknowledged, never pursued and never courted. And that was exactly how you wanted it.

If Andy Barber knew that the man you’d stabbed was an alpha trying to force himself on you, there was a chance he would understand that it was self-defense and let you go. Then again, a lot of alphas seemed to think that being forced to mate was just par for the course for an omega; surely Andy wouldn’t be one of those types, as a man of the law, right?

“I can’t,” you finally answered.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me,” he assured, some of his anger shifting to a soothing tone. It really did calm you down; he must have been using his ‘alpha voice’ on you, and the fact that it worked should’ve been a red flag but you didn’t notice. “Let’s start from the beginning. You said you were at home but no one has confirmed your alibi. You said you didn’t know the victim but you obviously reacted when I showed you his picture. And, you said you weren’t there at the time of the murder but we found your DNA on the body.”

A little smile pulled at the corner of your lips, exactly not the reaction Andy had been expecting. “You’re lying,” you whispered.

He tensed up as you called his bluff. The DNA found at the scene was in the process of being analysed, sure, but it would be weeks until the results came back. “How can you be so sure?” he pressed.

“Because I. Wasn’t. There,” you hissed, glaring back at him; he shook his head solemnly..

“No, that’s not it. I can tell when you’re lying, too, you know,” he warned. “Tell me how you know I don’t have your DNA at the scene?”

“Because… because…” you breathed, blinking a few times as the room started to get warmer. Your head was spinning, your thighs clenched together— and when Andy reached out to rest his hand on yours and ask if you were alright, his touch sent it all into overdrive.

No, no, it wasn't your time yet. It shouldn't have come for a few more days, and you’d arranged to be bailed out tomorrow so you’d go into your cycle safely at home and not in jail. But now it was beginning and you had no way to stop it. Had the smell of an alpha really been enough to start your heat early?

Andy watched you start to pant and sweat with a furrowed brow, unsure what he was witnessing because he’d never had the opportunity to see it before. His ex-wife had been a beta, he'd never even met an omega before— they were quite rare after all.

But what he lacked in experience, he made up for in instinct; his body told him everything he needed to know about what he was seeing. “Omega,” he growled lowly, watching your whole body erupt into shivers at the timbre of his voice.

As far as alphas go, Andy was relatively level-headed, not as preoccupied with instinctual desires to dominate, to claim, to impregnate. A lot of alphas viewed mating with a beta as settling, although it was the much more likely outcome, statistically speaking. Andy, though, never really saw it that way, even knowing how much harder it would be to have a child with a beta. Their fertility was significantly weaker, both the males and the females, and Jacob was the product of years of trying; in all their marriage him and Laurie had never used any contraceptives and she only got pregnant the once.

But an omega? Especially a young one like you? He could knock you up right now, if he wanted. That power was intoxicating. It was exactly what he never knew he needed so badly.

“I don’t need the results of your DNA to know what you are,” he explained firmly. “I can’t believe I didn’t know before— you must have tried really hard to keep it a secret, little one. You must be so afraid of who you are… and who I am, for that matter. It must scare you to imagine what I could do to you.”

You whimpered, the noise tugging his heart in conflicting directions; to comfort you, or to make you do it again.

“I’m not going to hurt you, if that’s what you think,” he assured. “Not if I can help it…”

Honestly, he wasn’t so sure he would be able to help it; he felt his own sanity slipping as he watched you writhe and cry, instinct overtaking logic in the both of you.

"Alpha, please," you shuddered, the title making his cock harden instantly, uncomfortably filling the trousers of his suit.

"You smell so good," he purred, taking his jacket off as he stood up to cool off a bit. "I can smell your heat, Omega. I bet everyone in the building can—” he glanced to the locked door— “but I'm the only one here."

"Need you," you whined, tugging on the handcuffs that kept you bound to the table.

"Stand up, bend over," he commanded, and he'd barely finished speaking when you'd already done it, bent at the hips with your forearms resting on the table as you waited for him. "Good girl."

He rolled up his sleeves and took his place behind you, caging his body in with yours, nuzzling into your neck to get a deep breath of your scent.

"Fuck, so sweet," he groaned. "Waited so long for this. To feel an Omega on my cock. Never thought it would really happen. Has an Alpha ever taken you before?"

"No, I never… no."

"Not just unclaimed but a virgin. Christ, am I dreaming?"

But he was too far gone to take any more time to appreciate his luck— he needed you now, and he was taking you all for himself.

If he wasn't so overcome with need he wouldn't have thought to tear your clothes off, but now he didn't even think to question the idea, shedding you of your clothes like they were made of paper until you were completely exposed to him, your wet core vulnerable while another wave of your sweet scent filled the room.

"Look at all this," he grinned, kneeling down to lap at your folds and taste your slick. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your channel craving to be filled. "All for me, Omega?"

"Yours, it's all yours…"

"Doesn't it feel good to be claimed, little one? To be owned?"

"S-so good," you agreed. "Want your knot, Alpha. Want your mark."

A growl echoed in his chest when you said that, and he craved nothing more than to bite your neck and bond you to him for life.

But, it would be better if he saved that for a little later.

He stood up again and gave your ass a quick slap— nothing too rough, just enough to make you yelp all cute and whiny— before grabbing your hips to pull them back into his. You gasped and pushed back onto him, shamelessly rubbing yourself against the thick outline of his cock.

"Gonna make a mess on me with all that slick, Omega," he growled, but it was by no means discouragement.

"Want it in me, please," you sobbed. Unable to resist your begging anymore, he hastily opened his belt and fly, sighing with relief when he wrapped his hand around his cock and pulled it out. Your whole body visibly quaked when he swiped the swollen head through your folds, coating himself in your plentiful arousal.

Without any further warning, he pushed his cock in with a loud moan, a cry tearing from your throat as he tore into your body. "Shh," he soothed as his fingers rubbed your spine, "that's my girl, that's my pretty Omega."

But pain wasn't really your issue; it hurt, yes, but what made you cry was that you were already on the edge, about to come from hardly anything. When he thrusted once, you lost it and your legs quivered as a new wave of slick started to dribble down them.

"Are you coming?" he asked darkly.

You could only nod, biting your lip to try to keep from moaning too loudly.

"Oh my god…" he groaned, amazed at how sensitive you were. Clearly he wasn't the only one realizing how powerful and incredible it could be when an alpha and omega mated.

He started to really pound into you then, each brutal thrust knocking you forward.

"Feels good when you come for me, Omega. Do it again."

You couldn't help yourself; his voice had complete control over your body, his words a command you were helpless to resist. With a broken whimper you came again, walls squeezing his cock in a weak and stuttered rhythm.

"It's better than they say it is. Even better than I imagined. So fucking good," he sighed. It felt so right, that was the thing. It felt like your body was made to be claimed and owned by him.

"Want your knot," you whined, "please, Alpha—"

"If I give you my knot, you're mine. My Omega. You will never allow another Alpha to touch you. You will not speak to another Alpha, look at another Alpha, even Betas are off-limits. When I bite you, you'll be bonded to me and become my wife, you'll never disobey me or leave me. When I knot you, you'll give me a child. Is all of that perfectly clear?"

It was everything you'd wanted to avoid just an hour ago. Now it was your greatest dream come true. "Yes, Alpha. Yours, Alpha."

"Want to be bred, Omega? Bred by your Alpha?"

"Please!" you sobbed.

"Then keep coming and I'll let you have it soon," he promised. "I'll give you all my come like you need so badly."

You whimpered as your walls seemed to try to suck him in deeper, gripping him so tight that it made his head spin. Orgasm after orgasm washed over you, too many and too numb to count, each part of you slowly stripped away and replaced with pure, all-consuming pleasure.

The base of his cock began to swell and you mewled proudly— that is, until, it just kept growing and you couldn't imagine taking anymore.

"P-pull it out," you begged instead.

"I told you that you would take my knot, was I not clear?"

But you hadn't realized how big it would get, how far it would stretch you— and it was still going. "It hurts, Alpha, please!"

"You'll get used to it, gonna keep it in you all night and give it to you every day so you'll have plenty of practice. Take my fucking knot while I come inside you and breed your cunt."

When his knot finally grew to its full potential, streams of hot come began to fill you, deeper than you had ever imagined possible. It was overwhelming, apparently unending, and one final orgasm rocked your body as you milked his cock for all it was worth.

He wrapped his arms around your body, holding you close and soothing you as you shivered and cried, his kisses trailing up your shoulder to your neck where, finally, he sunk his teeth into your skin and left his mark on you.

Your walls quivered around him at the feeling of being claimed, mated for life. In that moment you didn't notice or care that it was to a man you barely knew; he was your Alpha now, that was all that mattered.

He kissed and licked over the sensitive bitemark, whispering praises your ringing ears couldn't quite process yet.

At least you were getting bailed out a day early.

Andy kept his promise about exactly how owned you would be. For the first few months you didn't even leave the house, he was too busy filling you with his cock every day. Although he was happy to claim you anywhere he happened to find you— the shower where he hopped in randomly, the kitchen where he bent you over the counter, the living room where he pinned you onto the couch— his favorite place was the bed. It was rougher and more animalistic in the other places, but in bed he was possessive in an entirely different way.

"My wife, my sweet little wife," he whispered in your ear as he slowly thrust all the way into you, making your back arch until your chest pushed against his. "My Omega. All mine."

"Yours," you agreed.

The protectiveness increased tenfold when your scent changed during pregnancy, even more when you started showing; he was obsessed with the way you looked full of his baby.

As for you, omega life was better than you'd expected. At times you felt smothered by him, but simultaneously you felt worshipped and loved like you never thought you could deserve. He certainly spoiled you, though he expected your unwavering loyalty in return.

That part was easy, though. Love, not fear, kept you in check when other alphas had a wandering eye. They knew you were mated, the bitemark scar (which Andy never, ever let you cover) and ring (which Andy never, ever let you take off) were sign enough along with the change in your scent to them. Occasionally one would shoot his shot and get unilaterally rejected by you before getting his ass kicked by your husband. If only they knew what you'd done to the last alpha that tried to creep on you; how you met Andy in the first place.

In the end, maybe it wasn't so bad to fall into your instincts, your natural role in society. Andy sure made it pretty enjoyable with the way he brought you to the height of pleasure over and over every night. "Mine," he promised you in deep whispers, "from the moment I saw you."

#andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #alpha!andy barber x omega!reader #I'll add tags when I get home later

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hollyhomburg · 3 years

Text

Before I Leave You (Sneak Peak)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Someone always has to leave first; They just didn’t expect Yoongi to come back with a new omega (who's clearly been through some shit).

Pairing: Beta! Yoongi, Omega! Reader, Omega! Jungkook, Omega! Seokjin, Alpha! Namjoon, Alpha! Hoseok, Alpha! Taehyung, Alpha! Jimin,

Tags: Polyamory, groupsex, sexual and non-sexual Dom/sub undertones, heat sex, praise kink, brief humiliation, Spanking, knotting, breeding kink, emotional abuse, physical abuse, forced mating marks, graphic murder scenes, negative self-talk, self-esteem issues, non-verbal characters, abandonment, PTSD, hurt/comfort, gluttonous fluff, agoraphobia, implied/referenced self-harm, suicidal thoughts and brief desperate suicide attempt, unreliable narrators. Gender dysphoria, transgender characters, internalized homophobia, internalized transphobia, internalized misogyny, unintended outings, epilepsy,

W/c: 100k+ (87k completed so far)

A/n: long time no see~ this is what I’ve been working on for the last few months! I hope everyone will like it. Updates will be once a week on fridays or saturdays at 5pm EST. This will also be cross posted on Archive of our own.

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“You shouldn’t be out here- you’ll get cold.”

Your hands play on the bannister. In the fountain, something trickles though it’s not full. It’s too early in spring and the flowers in the garden are reluctant to burst through the ground for fear of frost. Yoongi wonders how you’re not shivering. “It’s not the 1800’s Yoongi- people don’t die just from being cold” your revealing dress is probably something that your husband chose for you. it makes Yoongi’s blood boil.

You look a little bit better tonight, though Yoongi can't tell if the color in your face is actually real or from the thick layer of makeup that hides the bruises. The haze in your eyes, like you’re dissociating from everything, isn’t there anymore. Tonight, You’ve got a clarity that Yoongi savors. The scar is healing well, pink and hardly notable under the line of your jaw. Yoongi wouldn’t know it was there if he wasn’t looking for it.

Yoongi searches your face. “You misunderstand me, I said that I don’t want you to be cold, but maybe if you caught a cold- I could help you get better.”

He knows his words don’t make sense- but still you recognize what he wants to say but can’t. I could love you, I could make it better, I could care for you and only treat you with the gentleness you deserve. But Yoongi doesn’t say any of that- no- he only leans forward and offers his hands. “One dance? Before I take you home?”

Yoongi will drive you away from here- will take you and go to some gritty fast food place and get you full of however many calories your husband has made you skip. And he’ll spend the whole drive thinking about leaning across the console to kiss you. He could do it- quick. You’re not wearing lipstick and no one would know. Maybe he can’t help you yet- so starved of love that you look like a ghost. But tonight, he can surely make sure your stomach and your heart is full with the careful care that Yoongi knows he’s good at giving.

You keep Yoongi at an arm's length as he leads you in the waltz, day dreaming of a hypothetical illness, some sickness that can be fixed by a few days rest and some warm soup that Yoongi could provide. The two of you pulled together in a bed however big or small- you wouldn’t mind as long as you got to be this close. His hand on your forehead crooning, “you’ve got a fever lovely.”

It’s a beautiful day dream, but not better than reality as he pulls you in tighter against him in your skimpy gown. It’s only to keep you warm- he justifies. And you melt into his hold. His hands are wide, warm, and better than any jacket as they cup your sides and the small of your back. You stumble on the uneven cobblestones of the garden and Yoongi heaves you up so that you’re balanced on his toes.

He spins you, going faster in the practices steps, making you giggle- a sound that he’s never heard from you and wants to hear again and again. You slow to a more gentle pace, Swaying softly from side to side. You rest your whole body against him and Yoongi holds you up.

For the first time he can smell your real scent, you smell sweet and bready, like a freshly baked cake, something warm inside on a day that the rain pours outside. You smell like cozy lazy Sundays and cupcakes. Yoongi wants to bury his face in your neck but won’t without asking.

He wonders if you like his scent just as much as he likes yours.

Before he can ask, you pipe up. “You just had to take all the good didn’t you?” its not said bitterly, but musing. Out of two brothers, why would one have so much more softness than the other? One gentle and kind while the other is bloodthirsty and violently selfish. Why did you have to choose wrong?

“What would it be like Yoongi? If you took me away from here what would it be like?” you’re crying, barely daring to utter the words. The two of you both know from experience that tempting fate never ends well but you’ve never wanted anything so badly.

Yoongi struggles to hold onto your happy scent. You know how much wanting something you can’t have can hurt you. Reaching out like you’re prepared to grasp the future he’ll paint for you, holding onto the lapels of his coat as you cry. Yoongi just runs his hands up and down your back to comfort you through the longing.

Like this garden aches for rain, Yoongi aches to give, anything and everything, his heart on a platter if that’s what you wanted.

“We’d get takeout every few nights and play rock paper scissors to decide who gets to be the little spoon, we’d have a rule of no yelling in the house, I’d take you out to the ocean and make you s’mores whenever you wanted. You could steal my clothes and I’d never ever say a word about It.”

You laugh at that- somehow, Yoongi just knows that’s something you’d do. He’s known enough omegas, he knows that courting one means you voluntarily give up half of your sweatshirt collection. He keeps speaking softer, like to whisper his wishes out loud is like trying to hold onto a shooting star.

“And-” Yoongi takes a deep breath, tilting his face forward so that your foreheads are aligned. So close. This is the closest Yoongi has ever let himself get to you. “-I’d love you until we’d both had our last breath. I’d leave you sticky notes on the refrigerator telling you that I love you every time I had to leave. I’d never- ever let you be cold. And I’d show you my pack”

Yoongi can feel you swallow thickly at his promises- and he hopes- hopes more than anything else that they’re not empty ones. You always forget that he has someone else- that there are several someone-else’s who have Yoongi’s attention the way you do. He is the moon and you’re just something he orbits around. There are other celestial objects caught in his orbit. “What are they like? What’s it like to have a pack?”

Yoongi tries not to let himself get misty eyed, “it’s everything, it’s love and having everyone there all around you but it’s also so much fun, you’re never alone- you always have someone to be around and it’s not even- it doesn’t even feel tiring. Even when you want to sleep you’d rather stay up with them.” Yoongi slides his finger underneath one of the straps of your dress, playing with it. “Telling you what they’re like- well- that would take me hours”

Your laugh is pretty, and it slips through yoongi’s fingers like smoke “That sounds beautiful.” Yoongi holds you like you might be a piece of that- a piece of his pack that he hadn’t known he’d been missing. That's probably why your next words hit him so hard.

“I wish I could have seen it. Get back to them safe alright? Do me a favor and love them like you would have loved me.”

*Part 1 Coming Friday April 9th @ 5pm EST*

#bts fanfic #bts mafia au #bts omegaverse au #bts polyamory au #bts x reader #bts poly au #bts werewolf fic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts hurt/comfort #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #omega! reader #bts a/b/o au

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kirencer · 3 years

Text

teen dream

Chip’s not an idiot. He’s just a bit blind.

Especially when it comes to the blatant feelings that Reader has for him.

Word count: 6.5k

Warnings: NSFW, Spitting, Oral Sex, Breeding Kink, Implied Impregnation, Vaginal Sex, Praise, and mentions of past loss of virginity

A/N: This fic is written for @imagining-in-the-margins’ Discord Server’s June & July Prompt: Only One Bed. Enjoy!!

Boring. It’s one of the only ways to describe the town I live in. Not only is it full of small minded people with small ideals, but it’s also completely lacking in my favorite person.

Never mind how I had moved away for a quieter life, especially once I realized that said favorite person — the lovely and handsome, but mildly ditsy, Chip Taylor — would likely never notice me in the way had — and still — wanted. But alas, here I was, staring at the familiar number in the hopes it still belonged to him.

Last I heard he was dating a girl named Liza, and while it made me happy he had someone to love it just hurt knowing that it would never be me on the receiving end of his affections. Though I do think I would much prefer to spoil him with all the love in the world.

(Chip deserves it and even more. god, he’s just so perfect and kind. the type of man to kiss with a burning passion that leaves you breathless and gasping for more of him to drown in. i would know. there were the kisses we shared ages ago, when we were teens. drunk and eager to get our firsts completely over with. to him, it probably wouldn’t be much. to me, however, i grasp onto the bits of him i got that night, the way his hips felt pressing against mine. even more, i hold delicately — the way he held me — the memory of feeling love from him, even in the simplest no-strings way)

Before I can back out, the phone is ringing in my hands. His voice on the other line is mildly groggy. Shit. It might be late where he is, I feel bad for just a minute before I realize I need to answer.

“Uhm. Heya, Chip!”

There’s the sound of wind rusting on either side, “Shit. Hi, Y/N. Just give me two minutes to pull to the side. I’m on the road.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I can call back later?”

“No no, it’s fine! I’m just on a … road trip? Yeah. I’m on a road trip.”

I move a bit on my bed. Huh, a road trip. It’s not really like him to be on one, but I won't say I'm not surprised. Chip always felt like the kind of guy not afraid to find where life takes him.

“...So why are you calling?” Chip’s voice sounds through the receiver, a car passes by whoever he is and blocks me from answering.

“I was going to ask if you had a couch or something i could sleep on, I was thinking of going somewhere. Anywhere but here, yknow? But since you’re on the road i’ll let you go!”

“I could pick you up? I mean, as long as you don’t have anywhere you’re really wanting to go. I don’t think I'm too far from you.”

“A-are ya sure? I don’t wanna intrude. Plus ya have a girlfriend…?”

“Me and Liza? No, no. God, no. We broke up and she’s — well, she’s dead.”

“Oh my gingersnaps! Chip, I am so sorry for your loss.”

“No, don’t be! She wasn’t the uh, nicest girl I’ve met. My offer stands, though. I’d love to pick you up.”

“Well, you always have hated to drive alone. I’ll send you my address. See you… when you get here?”

“Should only be a couple hours. In all honesty, I was planning on driving to you anyway. It’s … been a while, doll.”

“I've missed you too. See you soon, potato Chip.”

———

Five hours later, I find myself outside of my apartment with a duffle bag. Inside is what I'll need to get me through at least a few weeks away from home. I don't have much that would need to be taken care of. I have no animals, nor any plants. I did have a cactus a few months ago, but I overwatered it.

Chip had messaged me five minutes ago that he’d be there soon and I felt a mix of excitement and fear mix in me. Bouncing on my heels was both an expression of my budding anxiety as well as the energy flowing from me. It had been so long since I’d seen him. When I had called him, it’d been the first time we’d talked in a little under a year. Around the time he had met Liza.

While I did feel mildly bad because she was dead, there was an odd giddiness I felt.

Years ago, before I left, I was desperately and far from mildly in love with Chip. For a while there, I had assumed that he would eight confess in some sweet way that only he would manage. Either that or I would stop being a rearing scary cat and ask him out.

Of course, that last sleepover, I had thought then, too. I mean, wouldn't it be romantic for him to confess his undying love to me? Especially in the gasping moments after, when my head was lying on his chest. His hand was stroking over my hair, the other wrapping around me. It was such a loving embrace that for a moment I could almost feel how his chest would have rumbled with the words, whispering them into the air around us like a secret. One that I would have never told except in return, letting all of our pieces feel safe with the other.

With him — especially after we had taken each other's firsts — I had never felt more safe with another person. Chip had looked at me in awe, and when he had whispered my name it was a prayer.

God, I loved how safe my name felt in his mouth. I never felt the need to tuck it away for just myself, hide it away against my chest. With a man like Chip, I never felt stupid. He made me feel cherished and like the secrets I whispered would be ours to share.

My bag swings a bit in my hands, tapping against my leg. Across the street I see a red car pull to a park. Through the windows I see the familiar silhouette of Chip. His door opens and I watch as he steps out and immediately locks eyes with me. Chip Gives me a small wave and I drop my bag, quickly running across the street and hitting him a bit in the process. I wrap my hands around him, hugging him tightly, as though he’s prone to disappearing at a blink.

Chip’s arms wrap around me as well, pulling me even closer to him. He smells faintly of cologne that is much too ‘fancy’ for him and the kind of sweat that accumulates on a road trip. Underneath the mostly unfamiliar scents is him and it melts me how glad I am he still smells like himself.

“You’ve gotten taller,” I note, head resting on his shoulder while we both decide to not pull away just yet. Chip’s arms flex slightly around me, “Oh, you’ve also gotten stronger. Must be big enough to lift the old log now, huh?”

A warm bubble of laughter comes from him, warming me more than the subtle press of his skin to mine. I pull away softly to look at him as he responds to my mention of the gigantic log that used to perpetually rest at our old hangout spot. There was a bet as to who would pick it up first, and Chip never had the most money under his name. I had put twenty on him though, long before we all forgot about the bet.

“I’ve done enough work to lift two of them, I bet.” I inhale quickly, in faux and joking shock.

“Don’t you get ahead a’ yourself, buckaroo,” I quipped back at him, moving one of my hands from the small of his arm to his bicep. Under my hands was quite a bit more muscle than I had firstly anticipated. He must have been doing a bunch of manual work, especially since he had a warm tan, the kind that comes with working outside in Louisiana.

In a way, I almost envy him. Though I know it’d likely be more grueling work than mine, I miss the sun and the heat.

Chip rolled his eyes at me, smiling softly, “Never. I’m not smart enough to overestimate.”

I pull away from him abruptly. A scoff leaving my lips. “See, now you’ve lost huggin’ privileges. I don’t hug dummies who call themself not smart. No siree you know I don’t. Now, take it back or I will … not go on the trip!”

He blinked dully at me, his hands falling to his side. A determined expression fell on his face as he stared at me. “I am so sorry for calling myself not smart. It may be the truth but — OW! What was that for?”

I placed my hand on his check, right where I had gently tapped him. “Do it again, and no self deprecation this time.”

Chip looked at me with his sad puppy dog eyes, hands moving to cup my face.

“Doll, I am so sorry for what I said about myself and I promise that I’ll never again call myself dumb because you think that I am smart. If I ever do call myself dumb then I will give you … a thousand dollars. Deal?”

I laugh, rolling my eyes, hands clapping over his on my cheeks. “An’ where would you get a thousand bucks?”

“My gl— I’d make it somehow.”

Quickly I flip my hands to interlace mine and Chip’s together. I narrow my eyes at him with a slight smirk fighting to raise over my nonchalant expression. “Instead of giving me the pay fee, there's always the cheaper option of kissing me hard enough to make me forget thatcha said anything.”

Rosey flush blossomed across Chip’s cheeks, his mouth falling open. I realize what I had said and then drop his hands, backing up a bit. God, I should have just kept my mouth shut. Now I've gone and made him uncomfortable, which is not the way to go. It’s just so easy to be around him and to love him that it feels silly to want to do anything but kiss him. I could say it now, and get it over with. Get all of the rejection done and gone, but the prospect of more time with him is like dangling a carrot to a rabbit, I’m always gonna hop after it, longingly. The best thing for us both at the moment is for me to try and hint to him about my affections. If Chip seems to not enjoy them? I’ll back off, and keep them to myself, while I wait for them to pass.

(i know they wont ever go away, not after this long, but abstinence makes the heart grow fonder and after all this time away i am more fond of Chip than ever)

“It’s— Chip, I’m just messin’ with ya. I promise.”

Chip shakes his head side to side, a small frown playing on his lips, “Yeah, of course! I knew that, yeah.”

“Good. I don’t want t’ make you uncomfortable, darlin’. Please let me know If I do, okay?”

He shakes his head yes, and looks to be about on the edge of tears. “It’s been too long.” Chip runs a hand under his eyes, “Shit, I forgot how kind you are.”

I hum slightly to myself, looking back at my bag to make sure it hasn't been taken by anyone. “I think I forgot too.”

———

We leave from my state three hours later, crossing the border just an hour before sunset. For tonight we would drive, not stopping until we hit the AM’s.

It is easier to leave than I had previously thought. Especially with my teenhood best friend next to me, his laughs at my dumb jokes from stories I use to catch us up with eachother.

There isn’t a lot for him to learn, sadly.

I had spent my years without him floating from small group to small group, knowing that no two or three people would ever compare to the sweetest man in the world.

Chip had pulled over twenty minutes ago, allowing me to take the wheel, and he was recounting a story himself.

“So then one of Liza’s friends was trying to get me to listen, but I was honestly just a bit too tired and zoning out. Obviously Liza told them I was gonna be the one man not touched during a zombie apocalypse, but that's not the point. So I was just sitting, and this drunk girl had a giant fishbowl drink, and spilt it all on me before I could realize and move,” Chip finished his story with a laugh that faded away as he realized my lack of a humorous expression.

I glanced over at him, brows furrowed deeply. There's a flicker of anger inside of me that makes me want to hurt a dead woman. It’s because of her that Chip is so self deprecating, and doesn't realize why he’s not stupid. She must have got it in him that he’s an idiot. My blood boils at the thought. Sure, Chip may not be book smart, but he is the most emotionally smart and kind man I 一 no 一 anyone will ever meet. The man who grew from the boy that I met on the first day of highschool, all legs and elbows and grins, grew up and into himself beautifully. Anyone who doesn't see the beauty of Chip is the blindest person to walk the earth.

I have to grip the wheel tight as I try to piece together the right words to explain how fucked up it was what Liza had said. It bewilders me, how anyone could feel an ounce of the pure love Chip could hold and then decide to put him down and belittle him. If I had gotten even an ounce of the chance Liza had, I would make the most of it and show him all the ways he could be loved. All the ways he deserved to be loved.

“Chip, did Liza make you feel stupid?”

He looks out the window and back to me and I can tell he feels embarrassed to answer. It’s because the answer is yes.

“Well you're not. And all the stuff she said is wrong. God, I don't even know what she said in all but it’s wrong. Chip, believe me when I say, you are amazing, and worth everything ever.”

“She made me feel like she was the only one who would ever love me.”

“Well I promise you that she’s wrong. I have proof. It’s because I love you.”

Chip looks at me, his eyes blinking fast and his shoulders rapidly rising and falling. Again a red blush falls completely across his face and down his neck, then disappearing past his collarbones, underneath his shirt. “You love me?”

“Of course I do. You're my best friend.”

Chip closes his eyes and smiles at me softly, but he looks almost a touch, sad?. “Yeah, you love me like a friend."

———

“Ooh! Chip, can we go in there?” I said, pointing towards the store just thirty feet from us. We had driven through the night, before deciding this morning to stop at the city and walk around, going in stores and such. Chip had told me we could go anywhere I wanted, and so I was definitely abusing his words by dragging him everywhere.

He wasn’t complaining, though. However, as we neared the store I had pointed at, his face paled and his brows shot into his hairline. Immediately in the store’s window front were mannequins in flouncy and silky lingerie.

Chip wandered behind me as I walked through the rows of lace and such. I paused in front of an all white set, including garters. My hand felt over the material, it was soft, and the opposite of scratchy. The kind of material I preferred. I grabbed it off of the hook, turning around to look at Chip, who was looking at his feet with an expression that screamed ‘help.’

“Do you think this would look good on me?” I held it up to my body, asking Chip with an innocent expression. But, what I was doing was far from it. I was hoping he would say yes, and that he would start to think about me in it. I wonder if he’d imagine how it’d feel to peel it off of my body, showing more and more of my skin as the flimsy material is tossed to the side.

Chip blinked at me, mouth falling open. “Why are we in this store?”

“Well, there's this boy, Chip. I want him to see me lookin’ very pretty for him.”

“Back where you live?” I shake my head, and Chip hums. “Well, what exactly are you asking?”

"I’m asking you, if i was wearing this would you rip it apart to fuck me? I — well, I want to know if I’d be attractive.”

A moment passes as Chip stares at me. Not at my face, though. His eyes wander over the rest of me, mostly the areas where the lace would be. He’s redder than I’ve ever seen him and I feel like I’m about to die. “I want your opinion for a reason Chip. That’s why I’m asking you.”

Chip inhales deeply, head falling backwards before looking me in my eyes. His eyes are dark, as if the honey brown of eyes had been added to a dark tea. “Doll, you’re killing me.” Chip takes another long breath in, exhaling shallowly, “Yes. You’d look very good in that. Okay?”

I hand the garment over to him, wrinkling my nose at his snappiness. My lips curled upwards, “Ah, Chip. Are you jealous?”

He scoffed. “I’m not jealous. W-why would I be jealous? There’s no reason. S-so, I'm not jealous.”

Chip tried his best to be convincing, but he rambled just a bit too much. A fuzzy feeling settled in me. If he was jealous then he, in some form, wanted me. I smiled and started walking towards the register.

A plan was forming in my mind. One that would show me whether or not he truly did want me.

When we reached the register and had my one item rung up, Chip beat me to pay, handing the person a hundred dollars from his wallet. I was taken aback because I'd never known him to be one to carry around bills larger than a twenty.

Hm, inter-est-ing.

I would ask him, but he was allowed his privacy. I trust him enough to tell me on his own time. I mean, I wouldn’t immediately tell him if I acquired a large amount of money or such.

It would explain a lot of things, though. Him saying he could give me a thousand, the trip money — he told me I wasn’t allowed to give him any to pay for anything — and it explained why he was pulling into a hotel that would be much too fancy for what would have been our normal budget.

“Are you sure we’re at the right place?” I ask him hesitantly as Chip parks and reaches for his doorknob. He pauses before opening it, looking over at me with a confused expression.

“This is the right one. I would have taken us to the motel a mile or so away but … I don’t like motels. Anymore.” Chip opens his door at that, moving around the car to grab our clothes and such.

I follow behind him, closing my door gently behind me compared to his less than gentle slam. He’s always been just a bit too rough when closing doors, but he shut it almost purposefully with anger. I go to grab my suitcase but Chip pulls it out of the trunk before I could. “Just like how you don’t want me to touch the radio?”

He nods, “Exactly.”

“Will ya’ ever tell me what that's about?”

I pull the trunk closed for him, and Chip slings his duffle bag over his arm. Chip seems to want to do all the work, though, and grabs my suitcase by its handle to roll it. “Maybe,” he says softly, with a sheepish smile. “Probably not?”

“It’s okay. I’m comfortable with you just saying how you’d feel better. No need to explain why.”

I open the door for Chip, before we both make our way to the reception desk.

There, we are told that the room Chip had called about was not yet ready, and wouldn’t be until the morning. As such, we were left with the only availability room, the honeymoon suite.

While this would work better for my plan, I was still freaking out. See, there’s the chance that Chip doesn’t want me, and then he’ll be freaked out. Or, he wants me but he doesn’t want to love me. Which would be much worse than him not desiring me, because i’d spent one night as his already, and to go though another without ending with Chip as mine would be torture.

Chip showers first and I spend the time he is gone relaxing myself, and digging through my clothes for a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. Chip exits the bathroom right as I’m balling up my clothes, hiding my newly bought lingerie from his eyes.

I shower as quickly as I can, scrubbing down anywhere that I need to clean, before hopping out to dry off. First I put on the bra, though it barely should be called one considering its lack of support and its sheerness. After comes the underwear, the design being quite harness like around my waist. Thin, silky white strips of fabric wrap around my waist, connecting to the panties, it is all adorned with the same ivory flower pattern as the bra. The harness also connects to sheer thigh-highs. All together, in the mirror, the white against my skin gives me a look of innocence.

(since Chip had previously taken my innocence, would he be more inclined to fuck me if i presented innocently, an angel in white?)

Just as I’m tugging up my sweatpants, do I hear a devastating sound. My sweatpants rip, right down the back seam.

I don’t have any other bottoms that would comfortably cover my plan, and even if I did they’d be out with Chip. My only option is to play my hand with the cards I've been dealt. I stare in the mirror, and at the very least, I’m lucky I still have my tank top.

I open the door, walking out and acting much more confident than I was inside. Chip’s eyes look up at me with a smile, before they trail down and widen at the fact that my lower half was barely covered. His eyes do not break away from my thighs as I walk towards the bed, clambering on it next to him. As I shift around, my tank top slips a bit, and I can tell that Chip is staring at every inch of my exposed skin as possible.

“Was your shower nice?” I ask him, trying to do my best to breathe evenly under his gaze. Chip hums at me, head tilting up to mine but his eyes do not break from my skin at all. “Yeah, it was, uhm, not cold.”

I nod in agreement, sliding my hands up my thighs and my torso to hug myself. The way Chip’s honey brown eyes follow my movement does not evade me. “Mine was too, and then my parts ripped. But, it’s nice to shower, get all clean. Plus my soap makes my skin super soft.” I grab Chip’s hand from the bed, pressing it to the skin by the collar of my tank top, “Feel.”

Chip’s fingertips stroke over the skin. It’s a fleeting thought as to if his palm can feel my heart's rapid flutter. The idea disappears as fast as it appears, blown away by Chip’s hand sliding past the edge of my tank top. His hand touches the edge of my bra cup, freezing in place.

“You said it was for some boy.”

“Wh — huh? My underwear? Did I say that?” I question, far too frazzled at the feeling of Chip’s hand sliding farther into my shirt. His hands had the perfect amount of softness with callouses and so at his touch I was melting.

“Yes,” Chip breathes, his body leaning even closer to mine. “So, why are you letting me see you then?” He pauses to take a breath, fingers inching farther under the edge of my bra, stuttering as one of his fingers grazes the lace, “A-and why were you even planning to wear them under your pants if you didn’t want me to see?”

“Do you want to see?”

Chip’s breath hitches in his throat, hand pulling back from my shirt. He licks his lips, and my heart is erratic with the thought of him wanting me. It’s stupid to say, but I felt like a dumb teenager again. Drunk off of cheap beers and asking Chip if he’d want to have sex with me so that we wouldn’t be virgins anymore. Chip’s pupils swallow the warm brown of his eyes, “Show me.”

I shift my posture, Chip moves as well. He is on his knees in between my thighs as I pull the end of my tank top over my head.

An audible groan falls from his lips as he takes in my full form, and how the set he bought looks on me.

“I’m gonna touch you, Doll,” is all he says before his hands are gripping at my thighs. He doesn’t bother to ask, and I am grateful because I don’t think I would be able to talk anyway. His thumbs trace the edge where the thigh highs stop and become skin. I have to bite back a whimper when one of his nails scratches upwards towards my hips. I stay as still I can while letting his hands wander where they please. Index’s slipping between a ribbon of silk and my skin, palms sliding over my chest.

Chip’s hands stop by my face, one of them cupping my jaw as he pushes forward to press a featherlight kiss to my bottom lip before capturing it in between his teeth, and tugging. I’m jolted back into moving, arms slinging around his shoulders to pull him closer as he kisses me with the same passion I remember. Except now it’s a honed talent, and there isn’t the clumsiness of accidental teeth gnashing. Just the gentle push and pull of his lips as he goes from licking into my mouth to gentle pecks against my smiling lips.

Throughout this I am pulling him closer, hands lacing into his hair as one of his hands wanders more, grabbing onto the flesh of my ass.

I shift around until I'm sitting on Chip’s lap, rocking my hips against his as he kisses down my neck. My stomach feels like it’s exploding when I rub against Chip’s erection.

My proof is here; in the way he’s kissing me, and the way he’s holding me. Chip wants me.

Chip is panting as he pulls away, looking into my eyes with a smile. “Do — shit — do you want to?”

“Please,” is my whine of a reply, hips wiggling against him impatiently. Chip slides me off of his lap, and moves quickly so that his face is in between my thighs.

I am thunderstruck by how different he looks. See, he had gone down on me a while back, and all I really remember is how he looked up at me like I was a deity or a monarch. Other than that, there was the unabashed way that he was almost embarrassingly good at making me come from his mouth alone. Surely, if his kissing is better, then this will be too. Chip looks up at me and this is something that has not changed, the expression in his eyes.

“Fuck, you’ve always been so beautiful,” Chip notes, pressing a scratchy kiss to the inside of my thigh.

I think I like the way his scruff feels against my skin a bit too much. “I was, ah, just trying to get you to notice me.”

“Hah, it worked. Honestly, all I ever wanted was to kiss you. I wanted you to be mine,” Chip’s breath against my cunt is torture, as he is so close but still too far.

“Well, I'm yours now,” I say, the words being just as true as the fact that Chip has really pretty hands.

“I know, I’m not stupid. You’re all mine now, pretty. No escaping.” Chip wraps his arms around my thighs, nails pressing crescents into my skin. He uses his grasp to hold me steady as he licks at my lace covered pussy. I try to press myself against his face but his hold keeps me from moving too much. One of his fingers snaps the band connecting to my thigh high, the skin stinging at the slight pain. In my moment of focus on that, Chip pulls my panties to the side and laps gently at my clit.

He sighs with pleasure as he stares down at my cunt, lapping a bit at the wetness he has caused. Musing to himself quietly. “Tastes better than I remember.”

Then Chip dives in, spreading my folds with a hand while his tongue licks greedily, his stubble scratching nicely at my skin. A large glob of spit falls from his lips and drips into me. Chip's other hand uses his middle finger to push his soot father into me, and there’s a tensing in my tummy that tells me I'm already close despite having barely been touched.

Chip slips in another finger before he pumps them in and out of me, sucking with fervor at my clit while I practically babble incomprehensibly. He curls a finger at my G-spot, thumb replacing his tongue so he can speak. “Shit my memory doesn’t do your pretty whines any justice. Be a little louder for me, sweetheart. I want it to stick this time.”

A loud cry rips from my lips as the knot in my stomach finally snaps, hips wiggling as my orgasm washes over me. Chip laughs slightly, pressing a small kiss to my very over sensitive clit. His fingers are gently slid from inside of me, and Chip brings them to my lips. I blink at him as he waits — rather impatiently, I might say — for me to open my mouth.

“Doll, be good for me and suck,” he says, fingers tapping against my lips again. I open them, eagerly wanting to please Chip. He groans as I suck them clean, tongue soaking up the taste of myself with vigor. I whine when he pulls his fingers away.

“Chip,” my voice barely vocalizes. He shushes me gently, hands again cupping my face as he leans to give me a small and quick closed-mouthed.

“I don’t think you’ve gotten an idea about how good you taste. Can you open your mouth again for me?” I nod and open my mouth, tongue pushing over my bottom lip as I look up at him with pleading eyes. There was a pleasant flush that told me Chip wasn’t really used to being in charge like this. Chip closes his eyes as he swirls around in his mouth, fluttering them back open as a glob of spit drips from his lips, wetting his bottom lip and dripping down his chin into my mouth. The spit falls against my tongue, and I suck on it, moaning at how the taste of Chip and the taste of me blended in a way that wasn’t at all gross.

If anything it is delicious, and I savored the taste as long as I could before swallowing. The taste of Chip lingers as he whispers praise to me, shifting our bodies so that he’s posed above me. Chip’s pants are far gone, having been tossed at some point that I don’t feel like worrying over. A hand slides behind my back, expertly unclipping the bra so that Chip can toss it behind his head, hands replacing the skin the bra was covering. It’s only for a moment, though, as he then continues on to unclipping the straps of my thigh highs, and sliding down my panties. Effervescently they are also tossed to the side, however the stockings are left.

Chip runs his fingers through my pussy lips. One of his hands moves to my waist as the other gently slides his cock through the wetness at my core. Truly i’ve been feeling far too impatient for this game of teasing, “Please, Chip. Just fuck me.”

He laughs at my practically dying expression, “Okay!” And then, he sheathes himself deep inside of me in one smooth thrust. All of the air from my body escapes from my lips in a wanton moan. Chip moves gently as he shifts our position once again so that we are chest to chest, and he can easily kiss me. As I adjust to the size of him, he licks the seam of my lips which once again open for him.

The push and pull of his kissing reminds me of a wave, rocking gently and washing over me. It’s a force that is much stronger than myself and I don’t mind succumbing to it.

Chip’s hips are thrusting before I even realize that he’s stopped kissing me. Instead he’s looking at me like i’ve hung the stars in the sky, and done it all just for his view.

If it was a feat a mortal like me could have managed, I would have for him. Placed each twinkling moment perfectly so that in the far edge our names would be together, forever in the sky.

I would beckon the moon whenever he wanted to gaze at it, change the tide so that he might have a swim. For Chip, I would do anything. If after this, he didn’t love me back, then I would even let him go.

Chip groans as I tighten around him, and he nuzzles himself closer to me in as many ways as he can, his face pressing into the crook of my neck.

This time, when his chest rumbles with words that I've dreamt of hearing, it’s not a hallucination. “Doll, I — I’m in love with you.”

I gasp as he thrusts just a bit harder, mouth barely unable to speak at the pure bliss floating through me. It’s a dream I've had for so long to hear him tell me he loves me, in more than the way that best friends would.

“I'm in love with you too, Chip.”

Chip moves from my shoulder to kiss me, biting down harshly on my lips. “Do you know how jealous I was? Shit, I thought about dragging you to the changing room in that shop and fucking you right there. Making you know that I'm the only man who should ever see you, not some boy.”

I’m helpless but to lay there and moan as his thrusts increase in pace, and I can tell that he had felt more than just a bit of resentment at the thought of someone who does not exist. “I bet he wouldn’t have made you feel so good.”

Chips hand moves to where our bodies connect, two fingers rubbing circles on my clit. I feel overwhelmed and I have barely even been whelmed.

“Chip please, it's too much,” I moan as I near orgasm, thighs shaking as he does not stop his brutally loving pace.

“You can take it,” he murmurs back, “You’re so doing good for me, pretty.”

At the thought of being good for him my eyes roll back, struggling to not cum on the spot.

“Good for you?” I pant.

“Of course,” Chip remarks back, voice ripe with sincerity. My hips roll against his on his next thrust, and he moans my name. “Shit sweetheart, you take my cock so well. I wanna fuck you hard enough to break you, doll.”

In a way he already was. Like a running river eroding at a rock, he was chipping at me and I know that he will, unlike the actual river, spend as long as he can to build me back up. And I will love every second he takes when he remakes me as his. Though, deep down I was his before we even kissed that drunken night.

In some way, I’ve always been his.

“Chip I’m so close,” My arms pull tight to Chip’s shoulders, trying to grip him for stability as I am so scared I'm going to spontaneously combust. Or wake up from this dream.

Chip presses his lips towards mine, “Me too, baby.”

“Cum inside Chip, please.”

His hips stutter against mine, collecting some of the spare wetness from where he’s fucking me to circle at my clit, egging me closer and closer to the edge. “Gonna cum in you deep, fuck a baby into you. Shit — you’ll look so pretty like that.”

My head falls back against the pillows, a barely audible whine falling from my lips as I cum around Chips cock. He follows me after, my cunt milking him.

Chip isn’t wearing a condom, and I’m not on birth control, so I can only hope he means what he says when he wants to fuck a baby into me. Considering that it’s very likely he might have.

Chip pulls the blankets over himself as he lowers his body into mine, head resting on my chest. He makes no move to pull out and I don’t mind, I like how close we are.

“I hope you know what I said was true, I do love you. I have since we were teens, even if — even though we grew apart I still love you, Y/N.”

“I still love ya too.” Chip laughs breathily, pressing a kiss to my clammy skin.

“Can you promise me something?”

“Hm?” I ask sleepily, forcing my eyes open despite how inviting closing them seemed to be. Plus he is warm and I am so comfortable in his arms.

“When I wake up, can you promise you’ll still be here?”

“Of course, Chip. I wouldn't want t’ be anywhere else.”

Chip smiles up at me, “Thank you, Doll. And also for making sure I know that I’mnot stupid.

I shake my head, pressing a kiss to his hair. “No, Chip. Thank you for making m’ longest standing dream finally come true.”

#chip taylor #chip taylor x reader #68 kill #friends to lovers #childhood friends #chip taylor 68 kill #fanfic #x reader #gn!reader #chip taylor x gn!afab! reader

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darthmaulification · 3 years

Text

din djarin nsfw alphabet

A/N: i STILL have writer’s block when it comes to all the other stuff i have to get done that it’s INFURIATING. 🙄😤😡 i literally write two (2) sentences, and then my head says “no thoughts, all done :)”.

so anons still waiting on your stuff, have faith, i will get them done eventually!! 🙏🙏😭😭

but i want to get more stuff out more regularly, so take another nsfw alphabet, my brain is melting. 💗

(again, i imply fem!afab!reader and also, there is sensitive content (abortion) under X)

nsfw below the cut! 😘

A = aftercare (what are they like after sex?)

Din may be a bit unsure at first, but he is so sweet when it comes to aftercare. He’s got a caring nature already, and when it comes to making sure you’re clean, comfortable, and content after sex, Din is very soft and gentle. He’ll be asking you the whole time about what you need, how you’re feeling, complimenting and praising you for being perfect. Once he’s done making sure you’re okay, Din will conclude every time with kisses and cuddles, holding you close to him all the while whispering to you in Basic and Mando’a about how much he loves you.

B = body part (what’s their favorite body part of their partner? what about themselves?)

Honestly, Din has spent so long without showing someone else any part of him, that he is fairly insecure about how he looks. He’s a tad... embarrassed by his body, because he wants it to be perfect for you, but he doesn’t feel like it is (of course, you think he’s perfect). Din has a lot of self-criticisms, he worries that he’s too old for you, that his nose is too big for your liking, that he’s got a soft tummy and not like men your age. So Din doesn’t have a favorite body part, he’ll just like anything that you like.

Now on you... Din is a big fan of your face. He comes from a culture where one’s face is kept hidden unless you’re family or spouse, so to have you in all your glory and beauty is almost overwhelming to him. He loves your eyes especially (windows to the soul, and all), how they’re so expressive, what they look like when he’s fucked you cockdumb... all glossy and hazed... Din also loves your lips in particular too, the smile that tugs them up, what they look like when you say his name... and for another obvious reason that tends to happen when you’re below his belt on your knees...

(Also Din is a boobie man, full stop).

C = cum (basically anything to do with cum)

Din cums a lot, and he wants it all over you. If you let him, he’ll splatter his nut on your face, belly, breasts, ass, and other places that he loves and wants marked. He likes seeing you all messy and sticky, covered in the stuff that he creates just for you. Din goes kinda feral though if you beg him to cum inside you, allow him to bottom out and let loose past your tight cervix straight into your womb... makes his brain fizzle out. Also, Din’s cum tastes abnormally sweet, almost too sugary, much like the sweet man himself.

D = dirty secret (what’s their dirty secret?)

Din wants to be cucked. Like he really wants to watch someone else fuck you (consensually, of course), and him not being able to do anything about it. It’d be such a fucking tease and edge for him that the thought makes him feel some sort of way in his pants.

Also, not so much of a secret but still dirty, Din can play the role of a dom to a T, but in his heart, he’s a sub. Just take the reins on day, there’s not much he’d be compelled to do to stop you.

E = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Most, if not all, of Din’s sexual experiences before you were clumsy, quick fucks with sex workers at brothels or cantinas. He had most of them when the desire became to high to ignore, so really the closest around satisfied him enough. And although most of the conquests had no specialness or emotion to them, they did shape the way Din moved around bodies, aided in his ability to please and such. So Din is rather experienced, he knows what he’s doing and how to make things steamy, but he’s really never been able to truly connect with someone before. Even though he’s well versed in the art of sex, there’s a few learning curves for him to accomplish, particularly making sure he meets your needs the way you want them met, not how he thinks you may want to do things.

F = favorite position (what’s their favorite position?)

By far, Din loves nothing more but to bend you over a table, or the console board of the Razor Crest, and pound into you from behind like there’s no tomorrow. He loves to have the warmth of your ass, heavy and plush, against his pelvis all while he’s up to the hilt inside your core. Din also likes the control it gives him, having you squirming and moaning under him, one of his hands heavy on your back keeping you down while the other squeezes your thighs and hips, or plays with your clit. Din might also get a bit grabby with your hair, pulling back your head enough so that he can nibble at your neck and hiss all the dirty things he wants into your ear.

The close second for his favorite position though is having you tied up to the bed, wrists and ankles bound. It’s one of Din’s favorite sights in the entire galaxy.

G = goofy (are they the more serious type, or more humorous?)

Din is serious about making sure he’s doing all he can to make you a moaning, cockdumb mess, that’s for damn sure. He’s very driven in that regard, serious about the task at hand and all the things he has to do to make sure you know just how much he loves you. Din isn’t a stoic robot though, he’s too vibrant and compassionate of a man for that, so he’ll being saying sweet things to get you to blush and smile, grinning against the shell of your ear before kissing your neck, maybe nipping playfully at your ass or stomach too... Din knows how to give a good time.

H = hair (how well-groomed are they?)

Din is a functionalist, so he likes to keep his bush below the belt to a minimum, or at least manageable, so he trims it and sometimes shaves it fully. Though he does have a tendency to let it grow a bit if he’s having a dry spell or if he just doesn’t have the motivation... but once the tuft starts catching on the zip to his pants (he goes commando, the dork), that’s when Din knows he’s got to shave. All his body hair elsewhere; head, face, legs, back, arms, etc, Din doesn’t care much about except his moustache and tasteful stubble which he does really like to keep. Of course, Din keeps everything as clean as a whistle.

On his partners, Din doesn’t have much of a preference, but he does lean towards someone who at least keeps their stuff trimmed (and clean, of course). However, he won’t force you to do anything, it’s your body, your decisions.

I = intimacy ( how intimate are they during sex?)

Just... so intimate. Of course, Din fucks like a beast in rut, but he’s so consuming and raw with it, it’s nothing short of perfect. Din wears his heart on his sleeve, so sex is constant “I love yous” in every word and action, even when it’s all vulgarity and dirty and horny, but it’s love nonetheless. You’re able to feel it from how he presses against you, molds against you like liquid heat, how his hands make your body his own, how he kisses you with stars in his eyes, how he tells you over and over again both vocally and silently, “Thank you”.

J = jack off (do they masturbate?)

Mm... it depends on his mood. He masturbated more when he was younger, when he had more time and drive to do so. Though once he got older, and life happened, and he’s almost non-stop running around chasing quarries... Din’s just too darn tired. It got even less so when Grogu came into his life, because oh my Maker the horror Din would feel if somehow his son caught him in the act. But Din is only human, and has that accursed Mandalorian sex drive, so sometimes the urge does rear it’s head, and he’s gotta make his hand and penis best friends again.

Doesn’t help when you’re occupying his thoughts either.

K = kinks (any kinks?)

Y’know that cliché where it’s like “normal looking person whose an absolute freak in the sheets”? Yeah, that’s Din. This man is the epitome of that. Here’s his kinks:

Bondage. Din really likes the sight of you tied up on the bed, at his mercy like a bunny in a hunter’s trap. He wants to have you bound by your wrists and ankles, maybe even tying you to the bedposts, and fucking you senseless while you beg to be able to touch him too. Din favors using handcuffs (technically binders, but Star Wars lingo is silly sometimes), but he’ll use whatever you’re okay with too. And, of course, if bondage isn’t your thing, he won’t ever force you to do it. (psst, Din doesn’t mind being tied up either)

Spanking. Kind of the only aspect of the “S” part of BDSM that Din will every really partake in. He likes landing a good few firm swats on your flanks, likes seeing your ass and thighs jiggle from the force of it, the bright flush that may appear afterwards if you let him go at it a while. Din also likes just being able to touch your ass too, so a nice spank to your bottom becomes the physical message of “You’re in for it tonight, mesh’la”. Oh, and he’ll make you count.

Daddy kink. Oh Maker, if you call him Daddy, he’ll lose his mind. Din has such a big Daddy kink that even if you call him it in a nonsexual situation, he’ll be feeling that warmth until he’s able to steal you away and rail you good. He loves being the Daddy and you being his “Sweet girl” or “Cyar’ika”... the dynamic runs him wild.

Breeding/pregnancy kink. Din wants to fuck a baby into you so badly he dreams about it. It’s been impounded into him that family and parenthood are really big deals, so you bet your ass he wants to fulfill that part of his Creed by making sure your pussy’s stuffed, womb is filled to the brim, and your breasts are swollen and milky. Din wants so so deeply to see you pregnant with the kid that you and him make, he desperately wants a family with you.

Breast/nipple kink. Yeah, Din really really likes your tits. There’s something about the shape, the texture, size, weight, etc that activates some primal monkey part of his brain that has him drooling. Din loves to knead and fondle your breasts, roll them under his large hands, press them together, watch the soft flesh squish and mold around his fingers. He especially loves the cute nipples of yours, pinching them between his fingers, tweaking them. Din also really likes sucking on your tits, leaving marks all over them, playing with your nipples with his tongue...

L = location (favorite place to “do the do”?)

When you both have the opportunity, Din really really likes taking you in a good, proper bedroom, something that the uncomfortable, tiny bunk on the Razor Crest really doesn’t account for. If it were up to him, he’d want to spend his entire life with you in bedroom fit for a king, taking you over and over again on a mattress that feels like a cloud. It’s no shock then whenever Din actually shills out the credits (being the frugal man he is) to buy a hotel room is the sex borderline godlike.

M = motivation (what gets them turned on?)

A sure-fire way to get Din fully and completely riled up would be to wear something real scandalous. Be that a shirt that shows a tad bit more, or pants that are tight enough to reveal you aren’t wearing panties, or (Din’s favorite) a set of cute lingerie... Din will get hard in his pants. It’d be even more so if you tease him in public, but be warned he’ll fuck you mean for that.

N = NO (what’s their turn offs?)

Very early on, it was, obviously, taking off his helmet. If you asked, or Maker forbid tried, the mood would drop pretty extensively if not entirely from Din. He’d get uncomfortable, go silent, and the first time it happened, he left the room. Removal of the helmet was a very big one before he eventually showed you his face.

After you’ve been able to kiss his face over and over again and cry because you think he’s so beautiful? Nothing comes to Din’s mind really besides the kinks that are... nastier. Like literally, y’know... some other bodily... stuffs. Anyways, Din is pretty adaptable when it comes to kinks/positions and stuff. The pros of already being a kinky man...

O = oral (do they have a preference in giving/receiving?)

Okay, Din really loves his dick sucked. The way that you wrap your lips around his shaft, kiss the tip of his penis, fondle his balls, lick and slobber on him... makes his eyes roll to the back of his head. He especially loves being able to watch you try and take all of him in your throat, seeing the tears of pleasure squeeze out your eyes, the way you hollow your cheeks around him and suck. Din loves it when you go down on him.

... Now that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like going down on you. There is no place Din would want to be more than with his face between your legs, lapping at you like a starving animal. He’ll spend hours with his mouth on your cunt, swirling his tongue around your clit, driving orgasm after orgasm from you until you’re shaking from overstimulation and begging him to stop. Din loves your pussy, the way you taste and smell... drives him wild.

P = pace & PDA (are they soft, sensual, rough, or feral? are they open to displaying the relationship?)

Din will most often rail you into the mattress with a fervor. He tends to fuck hard, and he likes to play rough. The pace he keeps is something that makes you see stars every time he thrusts, when he ruts into you so hard that your entire body moves. However, Din does this all with a type of passionate sensuality that leaves you in tears, he fucks you sure, but it’s also fully fueled by unwavering love. When he’s feeling especially sentimental, Din will indulge on this love, and he’ll go slower, deeper, make you feel nothing but the weight of him.

And PDA... Well, Din doesn’t take the helmet or beskar off in public, so PDA is every time Din steps in front of you to shield you protectively, it’s when he offers to carry whatever you’re holding, it’s when he fights for you, it’s when he stands close to your side, when he sends you long side-eyed glances that make you feel the love, it’s when he nudges your shoulder with his, when he lets you wrap your fingers around his, when he drapes you with his cloak, surrounding you with him... It’s the little, subtle things, the personal things that mean you’re closer to him than anyone else.

Q = quickies (what’s their opinion on quickies?)

Maker, yes. Din becomes kinda addicted to having sex with you, so any and all chance to pull down his and yours pants and rut you both into a quick release is perfect for him. They don’t happen all that often, you’re both too busy most of the time, but if there’s a window of opportunity, Din will take it.

R = risks (are they okay with experimenting? do they take risks?)

Din’s kinda a big baby, so anything you may want to try with him in the bedroom that’s out of the norm will have him a stuttering, blushing mess. Most of the time though, once you’ve explained whatever you’re wanting enough, he’ll be down to do it because he knows you’re fine with it, and so is he. Though Din has his limits, a few things in particular that he’d never risk: safety and his Creed. He won’t ever try something that would potentially put the both of you in mortal danger, and wouldn’t do something that breaks his Code. Other than that, Din does enjoy pushing the boundaries a little once you’ve started, and he might even become more advantageous.

S = stamina (how many rounds can they last?)

Din can last long enough, that’s for sure. He’s not borderline superhuman like some other men, but Din doesn’t tap out early either. With the skill he has with his hands, he’s easily able to make you cum a couple times before he dicks you down, and sometimes he’s even able to draw out an orgasm or two when he’s balls deep inside you. It all usually depends on his energy level, if he’s pumped up and well rested, expect a long, long night, but if he’s so tired he can barely keep his eyes open, honestly he might just cum if you jerk him off a little bit.

Though sleepy sex with Din, although it’s very short, is also a bit of an exercise in absolute trust with him. He’s able to fall asleep in your arms, all worn out and buzzing from his orgasm, it makes him feel fully at peace.

T = toys (do they own/use any toys?)

Haha, no. Din is such a minimalist, he didn’t own any type of luxury like that, unless you count the handcuffs, but he technically uses those for his job. It really is he just doesn’t have the space nor the credits he’s willing to spare, and he didn’t have a partner before you so really it would’ve been pointless for him. But now that he’s got you in his life (and bed)? Yeah, Din might splurge a little bit and buy some things to make your romps a bit more... interesting. Be that a vibrator, some silky rope, a plug... just some fun things.

U = unfair (how much do they like to tease?)

He likes to tease, because edging you edges him and that satiates the deep-rooted sub inside of him. Din likes to have you begging for release just as much as he likes the feeling of his cock practically screaming to sink into your velvety core. The teasing really goes both ways, even if Din is the one who’s technically doing all of it. He also gets really into dirty talk (for as long as he can actually speak) and will be saying all sorts of nasty things in your ear like “C’mon, cyar’ika, tell me you want my fingers” or “Pretty girl, use your words. You want my cock or no?”.

V = volume (how loud or quiet are they during sex?)

Din is loud, but in a quiet type of way? He like... whisper yells, like his voice is already naturally low, so when he’s got you all in his grasps it’s like the volume of his voice doesn’t increase, but the intensity does? Din fills the room, essentially, being the only thing you hear, even over your own moans, squeals, screams, etc. It’s mostly a lot of strained dirty talk, like each word Din says to you is determined, but he’s got to push them through clenched teeth because his dick’s twitching so hard and your pussy is just too good... and shit, once you’ve drawn the first moan out of him, it’s over for him. Din will be moaning. Once he’s lost in the sauce, which happens sorta quickly, Din becomes just as incoherent as you, maybe being able to babble out something about seeing you fat with child or maybe about how well you’re swallowing up his cock, but it really devolves into lengthy, horny moans and hefty grunts. So yes, our man’s is loud.

W = wildcard (what’s a random headcanon?)

Din loves when you tell him how much you think he’s attractive. He’s spent basically his whole life with his face in a bucket and his body in armor, so he’s never gotten compliments about his authentic self before. This kind of hampered his self-confidence and racked up his insecurity? Din doesn’t necessarily have any specific qualms with how he looks, but he also is very unsure of how you think of him. So when you tell him that you love his face; his crooked, hooked nose, his soft, honey brown eyes, his patchy stubble, and even his ridiculous moustache... it makes his heart soar.

This same sentiment goes for his body too, which Din does have a couple of more prominent issues with. For one, he’s a tad soft around the middle (age + indulging himself + taking excessive off days = weight gain) which makes him feel semi-insecure about what you may think when you don’t see chiseled, perfect abs, and he’s just generally self-conscious about his age. But when you’re fine with it? When you say you find his chub endearing?? That he’s really not that old and that he shouldn’t worry about it??? Din is beyond happy.

And in a complete 180, Din has a very high sperm count. Like astronomically high. A medical marvel type of high. So... if you indulge on his desire for a big family... expect a lot of little Djarin brats really fast.

X = x-ray & x-tra (what’s underneath those clothes? any more random headcanons?”)

Din is built like a himbo. He’s built like he’d ask you what pussy size do you wear when he buys pads for you. He’s built like the dude that comes into the store you work at every so often who’s just so captivating and out of this world handsome that you stare at him as he looks at the same thing he always does, until he leaves after not buying it for the third week in a row. He has a very good figure, muscular in all the right places from a lifetime of brutal physical activity. Din’s arms and shoulders are probably his best feature, the entirety of the appendages being toned with taut, powerful muscle and perfect for holding you. His chest is quite toned as well, though his pecs are softer and have a smattering of chest hair brushed on the muscles. Although he has a relatively trim waist and a defined Adonis belt, Din’s belly is actually pretty soft. He’s like a muscular boy, but with a bit more chub (if anyone gets that reference, you’re extra sexy), so Din doesn’t have a defined set of abs. He does have a dark happy trail that leads to the special someone between his thick-muscled thighs.

He also, from time and age, has a bit of a weathered look to him that makes him look experienced and jaded. His body also has a smattering of scars, most of them old and silvered, from scuffles and fights he’s had in his past.

Big Dick Cum Daddy Din is hung. His penis is a mouth-watering 9 inches (22.86 cm) of throbbing glory, not overly girthy (2 inches, 5.08 cm, in width) but perfect nonetheless. He has a very prominent vein on the bell end of his cock, as well as fairly defined ridges on the sides, like he’s fucking ribbed for your pleasure. His penis is actually circumcised, so the head of his cock gets especially red once you’ve got all the blood and horniness in his loins. Din’s balls are perfect too, weighty things that hang a bit lower that only shows their virility.

Din is pro-choice. He’s a firm believer in people having autonomy over their bodies and having the ability to choose. So when it comes to abortion, even though the thought admittedly makes Din a little uncomfortable, he would fully support his partner choosing to have one, if that was their decision.

Also, Din is a bisexual icon, I don’t make the rules.

Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Yes. Ever since you come into his life, Din is horny like a teen boy all over again, it’s almost ridiculous. At the very beginning, it’s just a lot of him fantasizing about what he wants to do to you, because A) you’ve both just met, B) his Creed, and C) it’d be so embarrassing for him for you to find out how much you affect him. But once you two start getting closer, and spend weeks and months dancing around each other, Din starts to get a bit more flirty, more frisky. You definitely start noticing how much he’s wanting you, so really it comes to the point that at any time you reciprocate your feelings and consent, Din will be on you in a second. After that first time, it’s over for y’all. Din will want to fuck all the time, everywhere, whenever possible. Your pussy becomes his dick’s permanent home.

Z = zzzz (how fast do they fall asleep after?)

Din isn’t an easy sleeper in general, so after sex it’s really not much different. It always takes a while for him to fall asleep, so you’ll definitely be passed out before he even starts to feel tired. He’ll spend most of his time after making sure you’re taken care of with his exquisite aftercare, and then mumble sweet nothings to you as you fall asleep. Even after you’re out, Din will still lie awake and talk to you quietly about anything and everything that comes to mind before he eventually falls asleep too.

#star wars #star wars din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

𝖗𝖔𝖈𝖐 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖔𝖆𝖙 || pirate!Jefferson x reader

summary: Captain Jefferson is feared by every would-be sailor, every tradesman of the British isles, even his fellow pirates; yet, he's oddly gentle with you... for now.

word count: 4.2k

warnings: smut (dub con, this is a dark fic! mostly soft dark tho!), unwanted creampie, verrryy slight breeding kink, implied/threatened noncon, unwanted touching, lots of praise, mentions of the plague (but this time it's not the current one), pregnancy mention, alcohol consumption, religion mention, use of a knife (not quite knife kink but not violence either), slight yandere vibes

Perhaps if you had woken up sooner, earlier in the siege of your ship by the pirates, you would’ve had more time to flee and make it to one of the lifeboats. If you hadn’t been so exhausted from a long day beforehand, you would’ve surely roused from sleep at the first signs of trouble. If you had thought to put on boots and not tried to run from your room barefoot, you might have made it further before the invading crew had taken over.

Then again, this all could’ve been avoided if your fiancé had helped you onto the lifeboat instead of leaving you behind to die. Useless fucking bastard. Now here you were in the hands of your ‘saviors’ who pulled you from the flaming wreckage of the ship they themselves had destroyed. Their intentions were anything but altruistic, though; you weren’t a survivor, exactly, but a captive. Survivors didn’t typically have their wrists tied in front of them.

“Pretty,” one of them growled as he ran a finger down your cheek; you turned away as best you could but you couldn’t do much with them holding your arms and circling in so close around you. Another finger pushed against your lips and probed your mouth, the salt of his skin easily the worst taste you’d even experienced.

“Got all her teeth, too,” he noted. “Must be rich.”

“Who gives a fuck if she’s rich?” yet another sneered, reaching to start pulling up your skirt as you tried to kick him away. “All that matters is she’s warm.”

“You know we have to bring her to the Captain,” someone behind you noted.

“Yeah, but can’t we have a little fun first?”

“No,” the voice answered back firmly, making all the men around you visibly deflate.

“Fine then,” said the man in front of you as he dropped your skirt, and you were relieved slightly just to know they had to leave you be for now. “You’d better be a good girl for the Captain, then,” he informed you through his rotted grin, “and maybe we’ll get reacquainted when he’s done with you.”

With that, though they didn’t seem too ecstatic about it, a few of the men in the crowd guided you across the ship, bringing you to a windowed door. at the stern of the ship. It was likely the first mate that knocked; you were too busy being restrained to do it yourself, and the other men were too busy restraining you.

“Come in,” a voice answered from the other side.

The door creaked a bit as it was opened, and you felt the need to recoil further when you saw the man in his chambers, staring you down coldly.

“We found her in the wreckage,” the first mate explained, “figured you would know what to do with her.”

“Oh, I know what to do with her,” he agreed flatly, and you heard a few snickers behind you. “Bring her here.”

You figured ‘bringing’ would involve more walking, but instead they essentially threw you into the room, laughing as you stumbled to the floor since you were unable to catch yourself with bound hands.

The door slammed shut behind you unceremoniously, and you were left to look up at your new, singular captor with watery eyes. He wasn’t nearly as repulsive as the rest of his crew, he was even… not bad looking, if you tried hard enough to see him that way. It helped that he was better dressed and groomed, though he still looked plenty erratic in his own peculiar way. At least you were indoors now, protected from the cold ocean breeze of the evening, and with someone whose gaze was a bit less ravenous than the others that had been on you so far.

He offered his hand to help you up, but you defiantly made your own way back onto your feet.

“A bit of an independent type, I see,” he noted with the slightest smirk. “You must really hate this, then.”

“Would anyone enjoy being captured by pirates?” you asked, voice a little too shaky to really sound properly indignant.

“Many prefer it to drowning in the Indian ocean,” he frowned tightly. “Some might even be thankful to those that show them mercy.”

You were about to ask what he considered mercy, but then he took a knife from a leather holster at his side, stepping closer and carefully slicing the ropes off of your sore wrists. “Th-thank you, sir,” you whispered, rubbing the tender skin, raw in a few places.

“Captain Jefferson,” he corrected instantly, voice tense even though his body language was still relaxed; nonchalant, even. “You’ve yet to enlighten me to your name, darling.”

For a moment you watched him twirl his knife around in his fingers and almost forgot your own name to answer him with. When you did stammer it out, he gave you a smile that lied just between friendly and predatory, white teeth sparkling in the dim light of his lanterns as he sheathed the blade at his waist.

“Lovely,” he cooed. “It suits you. That dress on the other hand,” he frowned slightly as he looked you up and down, “is atrocious.”

“It’s only a nightgown,” you defended, “and it was much nicer before it was torn and sullied by your men outside.”

“Well, I’m afraid it just won’t do,” he decided. “You see, I have a lovely dinner prepared this evening and I couldn’t allow you to dine with me in tattered rags.”

“You’ll feed me?” you realized aloud.

“If you choose to accept my hospitality,” he clarified, and the way he said it made your skin crawl; there were no friendly dinners with pirates, you knew that much.

“Your kindness is… appreciated,” you half-lied, “but I cannot accept. I’ll go to the brig.”

“No, you won't. You’ll be spending the night in my quarters. With me,” he added, making his intentions exceptionally clear.

“I most certainly will not!” you defended, incensed. His jaw tightened as he glared at you, just for a moment, before he turned calm and polite again.

“I could leave you to my crew,” he offered casually. “Forty-eight drunken sailors who haven’t seen a woman since we left port eight months ago... I imagine they would be considerably less kind with you.”

You swallowed, but the lump in your throat didn’t go down.

“So, get changed and join me for dinner,” he instructed. “There’s something you can wear in that closet over there,” he explained as he motioned to it, “and a screen you can change behind.”

It was an odd request, but frankly, you were in no position to refuse it. He walked to the other end of the expansive quarters to examine something on his desk, and you awkwardly made your way to the closet to acquire the garment before you ducked behind the screen.

You didn’t really feel comfortable changing at this point, and you didn’t really trust that he would give you privacy; you stalled for quite some time, just waiting for him to suddenly appear and try to catch you nude, but the moment never came, and you finally relented and began to undress.

Admittedly, it was nice to peel the wet, cold nightgown from your skin and slip into something warmer. The dress he’d provided was a burgundy silk pattern, much more flamboyant and revealing at the bust than anything you would wear in your spare time, but you still indulged in running your hands over the soft fabric and toying with the lace hem of your sleeves briefly. It was slightly old-fashioned and it made you wonder how he’d come upon a dress like this in the first place, let alone what compelled him to keep it.

You tried to tie the lace up the back but couldn’t quite get them all, bending your arms awkwardly to try to reach but sighing as you realized it was useless.

“Um… Captain?” you called out sheepishly.

“Yes?” he answered immediately, voice echoing from across the room.

“Could you help me with the bodice here?”

You didn’t really see him step behind you, but you heard him come closer and felt the warmth of his presence. He delicately brushed his fingers over the back of your neck, ostensibly to make sure your hair was out of the way, before taking the strings in his hands and lacing your dress the rest of the way, tightening it slightly. “Not too tight, is it?” he asked quietly.

“It’s fine, thank you,” you nodded as he tied them. You expected him to walk away but when you turned around he was still there, staring down at you with eyes that were darkened at yet sparkling in the candlelight. “Should I put on jewelry as well?” you asked nervously.

“No, this will do nicely,” he announced, his voice a little deeper than it had been before, his fingers reaching up to brush over your exposed clavicle. “You look beautiful.”

“Um, thank you,” you answered hesitantly, glancing away from his all-consuming gaze.

A heavy silence filled the space between you before he finally broke it with a smile. “The table’s set, you can take your seat,” he explained, stepping back and giving you room to walk to the dining table; it really was a fine meal, one you recognize as stolen from the kitchens of the ship you had been on before, the one that was rubble at the bottom of the sea now. “Is it to your liking?” he prompted, making you realize you were forgetting to mind your manners. It was probably best to stay on the good side of such a dangerous and unpredictable man.

“It looks delicious, thank you,” you rushed as he pulled your chair out for you, and you flattened your skirts to take your seat.

And it wasn’t a lie; around the candelabra was an array of meats, cheeses, and fruits, even some small tarts presumably for dessert. Any other circumstance and you would feel comfortable digging right in.

He didn’t sit across from you right away, moving instead to a liquor cabinet which he knelt before. “I have red wine, aaaand some mead,” he offered as he searched through bottles, picking two to show you. “Or are you a moonshine sort of girl?” he asked with a wink.

“I’ll just take the wine, thank you,” you mumbled. He nodded and poured you a goblet, unsubtly eyeing your cleavage from his new vantage point. You motioned that he’d given you enough, leaving him to pour his own drink and cork the bottle again before taking his seat.

“I hope you don’t mind if I pray before the meal,” he interjected suddenly, “I’m a devout Catholic.”

“Oh, go ahead,” you nodded.

He chuckled slightly, making you feel foolish. “I’m joking, obviously. I’m a pirate.”

“I didn’t want to make any assumptions,” you mumbled. “I’ve heard pirates are superstitious, after all.”

“So religion is superstition?” he mused, lifting his goblet to take a drink.

“That’s… not exactly what I meant,” you compromised as you shifted in your seat.

He just looked at you, seeming to relish in your discomfort, as he began to eat from his plate, still staring at you. "You're not eating," he finally noticed.

"I suppose I've lost my appetite," you weakly explained, pushing a grape across the plate with your fork.

"Is it me? Do I… repulse you?"

You couldn't determine if the question came from insecurity or was some sort of trick. "Um… no," you answered. "But it is the circumstances you've put me in."

"I really mean no harm. It's been many years since I've had a chance to enjoy the company of a beautiful woman for dinner, that's all."

"But I'm spending the night here?" you remembered.

"Yes," he agreed.

No harm indeed, you thought to yourself as you nearly rolled your eyes. "You dishonor me," you protested. "My fiancé—"

"I think we both know he's dead," he interjected sternly.

"He made it to a lifeboat," you informed the Captain.

"Do you not hear the storm outside?" he scoffed, standing up to approach his window and throw open the curtain, revealing the heavy rainfall and lightning strikes on the water. "No lifeboat could withstand that."

Just as you hoped to find something to say to break the silence, something that would distract from his obvious and unfortunate truth, but he spoke again first.

"Say, shouldn't it have been the women and children first?" he realized with a furrowed brow, turning back from gazing out the window to examine you. "How did he make it on and you didn't?"

"There… there was only room for one more…"

"He took your spot," Jefferson realized, before suddenly bursting into laughter. You frowned and felt your eyes sting as you looked at the napkin in your lap. "And you say I dishonor you, when your betrothed left you to die so he could save himself!"

He walked closer, and you tried harder to fight your tears as he leaned in right in front of you.

"We really should thank him for his cowardice, shouldn't we? He's made you the only survivor of the wreck of the Princess Marianna," he grinned, and in a moment of weakness to your anger, you looked up and slapped him across the face.

"It wasn't a wreck, it was a siege," you corrected with shaking anger as the Captain rubbed his cheek, "and I'm not a survivor, I'm a prisoner!"

"Is this how you think prisoners are treated?" he snapped, grabbing your wrist tightly when you reached out again. "Dressed in silk, given fine wine?"

"Stolen wine," you grimaced, "and I assume the same for the dress?"

"No, the dress wasn't stolen. It belonged to the woman I loved before she died."

You straightened suddenly, stunned by his confession. You hadn't even considered that a pirate could really love. "I… I'm sorry."

"So forgive me if I can't muster much sympathy for your dead fiancé, it's just that I can't imagine claiming to love someone and choosing myself over them," he explained with ill-concealed contempt, looking away. "I'd have given my life to save her. But there are no lifeboats in a plague."

Your eyes that watered with rage before now brimmed with sympathy; the hand that reached up strike him before now delicately cradled his face, soothing where his cheek began to turn red. "My mother…" you trailed off. "The plague took her as well. It's cruel to see someone you love rot away."

He looked back at you again and you felt exposed to his stare, like he could see right through you.

It made a chill run up your spine, but it was oddly pleasant. He held out his hand for you to place yours in, guiding you to stand before him as he drank in the sight of you.

"You haven't had any wine," he realized softly. "Drink."

Hesitant but entranced by him, you grabbed the goblet from the table and took a sip. His hand gently tilted the bottom further, encouraging you to drink more, until you were gulping down the whole portion. As you finished, a drop fell down from the corner of your lips; his thumb wiped it away, and he brought the digit to his mouth as he sucked off the flavor from his own skin.

You didn't even mean to watch him dart his tongue out and lap up the liquid, but it made your thighs clench of their own volition. "Sweet," he whispered, and you forgot he was talking about the wine.

He took the goblet from your hand and set it down, turning his attention back to you as he ran his fingers over your shoulder, gentle enough to make little goosebumps prickle your skin all over. His gaze trailed over your face in the same pattern that his fingers did, his delicate touch making you shiver as he caressed your cheek, your jaw, your lips and finally your chin which he lifted slightly.

“Kiss me,” he requested softly.

More willing than you expected or were willing to admit, you leaned in closer to him and pressed your lips to his, chaste at first before he started to pull you closer and move his lips with yours. It was him that traced the shape of your mouth with his tongue before sliding it between your teeth, breathing heavier through his nose and wrapping his arms around you tighter.

You found yourself being pushed back, guided to his Captain’s desk, which he lifted you just enough to set you on. Without breaking the kiss— though it did become much hungrier and more intense— he roughly hiked the skirts of the borrowed dress up your legs, grabbing you tightly as he held you by your thighs.

Perhaps you could blame it on the alcohol, but you weren't even really feeling it yet and you were melting into his touch, moaning softly against his lips. Just when you were beginning to really like his fingers rubbing circles on your inner thighs, he removed his hands from your skirts. Instead his hands fumbled at your back to loosen the very same lacing he had helped you to tie before, releasing you from the dress just enough that he could tear the front down to expose your breasts, which he instantly reached up to grope in the palm of his hand while you both sighed a little at the feeling.

"Beautiful," he sighed as he started to kiss his way to your ear, biting gently around it. "So beautiful…"

You were devoid of words or even thoughts, operating only on primal instinct as you shuddered and fumbled with his coat and vest, hoping to see more of him in return. He smiled against your skin, apparently pitying you enough to lean back and help remove his layers of clothing. When you pulled his scarf away, you gasped at the sight of a scar that encircled his entire neck.

"How did you—?" you began to ask with a concerned whisper.

"I was sentenced and hung for piracy," he explained quickly. "It didn't take."

He kissed you again as he kept stripping with your rushed assistance; you didn't get it all off, just enough to leave him in a loose-fitting undergarment that revealed his scarred, masculine chest which moved with every deep breath he took.

Your fingers trailed down the expanse of skin, your breath a little heavier as you found the belt of his trousers. He grinned and opened it himself with one hand, while the other moved under your skirts again, drifting higher and higher until he finally swiped a finger through your sex.

The feeling made you choke on nothing, and he did it again, gathering and encouraging your arousal. You never got a look at his member, your clothes blocking you from seeing anything useful, but you could feel the shape of it pressing into your thigh.

You didn't know enough about what to expect to be sure that it was particularly large… but you were intimidated either way.

His forehead rested on your shoulder as he guided the thick, spongy head through your folds, seeking your entrance hastily. Even just that pushed your lips wide apart, your head getting dizzy as you realized he intended to put that inside of you. When he found it, just barely beginning to push forward, he straightened up to stare down into your eyes.

“Look at me,” he demanded. “Look at me when I take you.”

Blinking quickly, you did as you were told, looking up at him and feeling your gut sink and your heart twist at the idea of being stripped of your decency in such a way by this man. It was hard to believe it was really happening; it was hard to comprehend the way it titillated you.

All at once, he shot his hips forward and filled you, making you nearly scream though you managed to suppress it to a gasp. He watched you closely the whole time, giving only one moment of stillness to adjust before he began to pull back and start the cycle all over again, each movement stretching you wider than you had ever dared to imagine.

His expression was almost blank, almost unreadable, except for his eyes; they burned with enough passion to consume you in the flames, seeming not to blink as if he couldn’t miss even a moment of your pain and your pleasure.

Releasing you from his stare, he looked at your lips instead which he captured in another dominating kiss, one that trailed over your jaw as he began to really find his pace and increase the brutality of his body carving its space inside yours. More than anything, you focused on keeping your eyes shut and trying to distract yourself from it so wouldn’t audibly moan.

His tongue and lips laved your neck as he thrusted into you, the shadow of stubble on his face just enough to scratch your skin while his hands guided your legs to wrap around his hips. You would surely fall limp onto the desk if he didn’t cling onto you so tightly, strong and calloused hands clutching your back.

When he reached some very specific place inside you, a jolt of energy through your body shot your eyes wide open and your hands up to clutch at his shoulders. “Oh—!” you choked, gasping for air as he drove the head of his cock right into it again. He pulled away from your neck to smile down at you proudly, watching you moan and shiver at the overwhelming sensation.

“Didn’t know it could feel good, huh?” he taunted huskily. “Didn’t think you’d like it?”

He continued his assault on your neck, sure to leave a mark now, and it was all you could do to hang on for dear life as he slammed into you, the loud noises of his skin on yours filling the room.

Pressure built and built inside you, threatening to seize up at any moment. His speed kept increasing, kept pushing you to the edge faster and harder until you cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders as your body tightened and relaxed rhythmically.

“Oh god,” he moaned, right against your ear, “beautiful… you can’t imagine how wonderful it feels when you let go for me.”

He didn't slow down even slightly, keeping you suspended in pleasure with every desperate thrust into your pliant body.

"Do it again," he demanded darkly, but you were already spilling over the edge and sobbing at the onslaught of sensations filling you from the top of your head to the ends of your toes (which curled without you even realizing). He grunted as your walls gripped him with every wave of pleasure, his fingers digging into your supple flesh, sure to leave marks in the morning. "That's it," he purred, "give me everything."

You realized with dawning horror that his moans were getting louder and deeper but he showed no signs of stopping to finish outside. “Wait—”

“Fuck,” he hissed against your ear, holding you tighter as you started to squirm. “You’ll make me come.”

“Not inside,” you whimpered, swinging your arms to try to push him away, “you have to— please take it out—”

He growled and grabbed your wrists roughly, making you yelp a little. “You’re mine now. I’ll do with you what I please.”

“No, I can’t,” you whined.

“You can,” he promised through his teeth. “You can take all of it, beautiful… you can take every last drop of my seed inside you.”

You sobbed and struggled but ultimately as you felt his cock begin to flex against your channel and heard his panting breaths against your ear, you knew it was too late and he was spilling himself within you. He groaned and you let out one last weak whimper, going limp in his arms as you felt warmth begin to bloom from your core where he’d filled it.

The only grace he could’ve given you in that moment was just to leave you alone, toss you into the brig like you would’ve preferred in the first place, but he couldn’t even do that: he stayed inside you, holding your face and kissing you slowly while he caught his breath, mumbling praises you didn’t care to parse.

He carried you to his bed, undressing you from the gown until you were bare and had only his body to shield you from the draft in the room.

"I never told you something about my beloved," he whispered in your ear as he cradled your body under the blankets of his bed. "When she passed, she was with child. I lost both of them… and now you'll be filling their space and giving me what she couldn't, what I'm owed."

You blinked blankly through silent tears that streaked down your temples.

"Oh! And I never told you the name of this lovely vessel you'll be residing on," he realized with a breathless chuckle. "Welcome, darling, to the Devil's Fortune. I hope you enjoy it here… because I won't ever let you leave."

#dark!jefferson x reader #dark!jefferson smut #dark!jefferson ouat #sebastian stan dark fic

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