#thank you so much for the request i hope you like it! c:
Note
Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.
Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.
OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT
Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader
Word Count: 2899
Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining
A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:
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The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter.
And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway.
But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence.
Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan.
That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life.
You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together.
Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.
You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you.
“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes.
“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk.
“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop.
Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in.
“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.”
Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.”
“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.”
It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day.
Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually.
There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid.
You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did.
“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.
“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.”
“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner.
The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way.
“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude.
“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.”
Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?”
You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked.
“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully.
“What’d you do this weekend?”
“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.”
Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?”
“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.
You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word.
Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his.
“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.
“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.”
Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of.
You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked.
“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked.
Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.”
You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot.
God, you were down bad.
“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face.
“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed.
You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded.
That was all you needed to hear.
— — —
You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible.
Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little.
You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting.
After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual.
As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken.
“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.”
It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.
Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?”
You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger.
The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision.
“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.”
Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm.
Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed.
Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece.
As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice.
“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!”
“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his.
You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive.
But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless.
No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#basketonthedoorstepofthefbi#criminal minds spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!baureader
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Damiana (c.b. oneshot)
♡ O/S Inspo: Damiana (otherwise known as loveseed) is used to increase the intensity of sexual magick, increase magical energy, divination, dreams/clairvoyance, enhance pleasure and increase psychic abilities.
♡ Summary: You & Carmy wake up extra early on your day off for some reason, so he knows a good way to put you both back to sleep.
♡ W/C: 1,737
♡ Posted Date: 04/18/2024
♡ A/N: OMG Thank you all for 100 followers what the actual heck!!! I want to give each and every one of you a forehead smoochin, thank you so much for hanging out with me and supporting my work! As per usual my requests are alwayyys open! For Carmy x Reader & Carmy x Sydney I woke up today at the asscrack of dawn for no reason at all, and was hit with a strike of writing lightning!! Just in time for my 100 follower celebration :D!!! I hope you enjoy this smutty smutty goodness. Sidenote - Taylor is releasing an album tomorrow so I am bouncing off the walls of my iron cage and gnawing at the bars I'M SO READY!!!! ANYWAYS enjoy my friends <3
♡ Warnings for BTC: Unedited (we die like men!!!) Breeding kink, swearing, smut smut smut, fluffy needy Carmy, established relationship NO USE OF Y/N
➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡
➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡
Early mornings with Carmy were your favorite. Well - the early mornings that he wasn’t jumping in the shower even before the sun had kissed the horizon. But these mornings.
You woke up this morning at 4:52 - it was Sunday, your favorite day. Carmy & your day. The Bear was closed, the single day a week that it was - so it meant your loving, wonderful husband could stay in bed with you until 3 if he wanted.
He’d told you many times before if you woke before him for some reason on your sacred together day, to wake him because he didn’t want to spend a moment without you - but for now, you watch.
It wasn’t often you saw your beloved man like this, fully at peace. Well, other then when he fucked you - but while awake he never fully looked this peaceful.
You carefully brushed his messy curls off of his forehead, dragging your nails across his scalp gently. You just couldn’t help it, you knew how much he loved it.
‘Mmm?’ He grumbled, his voice thick and low, husky with sleep.
“Sorry” you whispered, smiling a bit. You couldn’t help but think of a grizzly bear when he’d make noises like that. While he was in this half asleep - half awake state, he would grunt and huff and grumble, especially on Sundays.
Just like any other day, his internal clock was on time - and today - he has 0 alarms set.
“No ‘s fine been up” he said softly.
You kissed his forehead tenderly, the faintest bit of mint sticking to his breath from last night when he brushed his teeth before practically crawling to bed since he was so exhausted.
“Bear- it’s Sunday- go to sleep” you said, gently rubbing over his bare chest with your soft palm.
“Damn birds” he grumbled, causing you to giggle.
“Y’know it’s the boys, actually? Because the uh…the moms. They go out before the sun, to find breakfast. And the dads are - well. Scientists theorize - that the dads are calling the moms back to the nest, like an alarm the kids are up and hungry” you said softly.
He hums in interest, rolling on his side with his eyes still closed and gently kissing down your neck as you spoke
“All I heard was a really good reason we don’t have kids yet” he said, voice deep and thick with sleep.
“Yeah yeah ok Mr ‘im gonna make you a mom’ “ you imitated his horny raspy voice and he chuckled, snaking his hand under your shirt and rubbing over your stomach gently
“I am as soon as you take this fuckin thing outta y’r arm” he gently bites down on the inside of your bicep where your implant was, sucking gently, causing you to laugh.
“I swear to god - your hormones Carm, it's like you’re ovulating or something” you teased and he snorts a laugh into your skin
“Not my fault you make me horny in the morning” he reached up, palming your breast and squeezing gently
“You were horny before you woke up fucker, I feel you” you teased, wiggling into his bulge that was pressing into your ass firmly.
He moaned softly, rolling his hips into yours “Y’gonna help me out or do I have to go shower?” He teased with a grin.
You roll your eyes playfully “gonna make me work before the sun is even fully in the sky?” You asked and he chuckled a bit
“No. Just stay right like this. I can play with you, right?” He kissed your jaw gently, nipping at the sensitive part near your ear and soothing the sting with his tongue in a way that made you whine.
“Yes. But I wanna feel good too” you said, voice needy already. It was quite embarrassing the effect he so easily had on you, he barely even had to try.
“Oh of course princess, y’think I’d neglect my favorite toy? When have I ever left you without makin’ sure y’feel good mm?” He kissed the base your neck right at the top of your spine, spreading your thighs with his knee, your bodies flush together.
“Well there was that one time-“ you teased as he pulled his cock out
“Oh the one time I punished you f’r bein’ a brat.” He squeezed your hip and trailed his hand around your stomach, rubbing gently before dipping his fingers in your panties, finding your clit and humming in satisfaction when you whine hotly, arching into his frame further.
“Cause you were wearing those slutty gray sweatpants and every bitch in the grocery store was staring at your dick print” you counter, causing him to chuckle, the vibration coursing through you since you were flush to him like one being.
“mmmm and is that why you’re so wet, cause you’re thinkin’ about me wearing something slutty?” He teased rubbing slow firm circles in the way that made you writhe and squirm.
“Stop teasing before you nut all over my back” you smirk and he gasps, feigning offense.
“Someone is mouthy this morning” he moved the fabric to the left, rubbing his thick cock over your folds easily with your slick aiding him, moaning softly.
“Mmmm thank you” you rest your head back on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. “Feels soooo nice.” You mumble as he slowly rolls his hips, the head of his cock teasing your clit just enough.
It wasn’t a full rub, not enough to make you cum for a while, but more a pleasant gentle massage. You felt his hand back on your stomach, rubbing short strokes up and down as he pants, in pure quiet bliss. That was something you adored about him- whenever you were in public, he was shy, quiet. So quiet. But when you were alone together- the man didn’t have an off switch.
Neither did you, but yours didn’t shut off in public, either. You did enough talking for the both of you, it was what drew him to you. The only time you made him more quiet, was when he was playing with you this way in the morning. You were pretty sure it was the time, his brain hadn’t fully woken yet - but he had one thought bouncing around like a DVD video logo his cock was achingly hard.
“I’m probably gonna fall asleep but you’ll wake me right?” You asked and all you got in response was a breathy ‘mmhmm’
He gently bit down on your neck, then your shoulder, then your arm, causing you to giggle and look back at him as well as you could “you wanna suck on it. Don’t you.” You teased, referring to your implant.
Another whiny ‘mmhmm’ and he rolls his hips a bit harder, causing you to moan as his tip ruts over your clit firmer
“So sweet.” You smiled lazily, closing your eyes once more and humming “I love this Bear y’make me feel so good” you said softly and he whimpers
“Fuckin’ hell y’too sweet. Lettin’ me play with you like this sweetheart, the sweetest girl” he praises, pushing the hair from your messy sleep off your forehead and kissing your temple.
“Cus’ y’the best husband” you laced your fingers together and held your hands over your stomach.
“Mmmm y’know I fuckin love hearin’ y’say that, right?” He rasps, hips getting sloppier and rougher as he got closer to his high.
“I do every time I say my husband on the phone you blush. It's the cutest thing that you’re still feelin’ like we’re on our honeymoon 2 whole years later” you kissed his hand sweetly.
“Cause I’m so fuckin’ lucky. Can’t fuckin’ believe y’agreed to take my last name babe. The way you say our last name is so fuckin pretty” he said, kissing your shoulder gently
“I feel so fancy with it. Mrs.Berzatto. Berzatto is so much cooler then my maiden name.” you said
“Fuckin hell sweetheart im so close can I please cum in you?” He begged, his voice needy and wanting
“Of course Bear Y’don’t need to ask” you said and he released your hand, placing his palm at the base of your abdomen and slipping in, filling you to the hilt.
You whimper, back arching slightly “mmm feel’so full” you mutter, gasping as he started a quick snap of his hips, jaw falling slack.
“It’s so fuckin hot that I can feel myself fuck you” he pressed his palm firmer into your abdomen, angling himself in a way to both feel himself better, but also slide perfectly against your gspot
“Yeah y’get so deep bear. Y’gonna fill me up? Y’gonna knock me up? Mmm?” You whine, your own orgasm approaching fast
“Fuck yeah I am princess sh-iiit. Fuck gonna make y’a fuckin mom” he grunts, spreading your legs further and reaching down to rub your clit making you clench around him.
He whimpers hips stuttering as he ruts into you, completely bottoming out trying to get as deep as he can as he empty’s his huge load into you, breathing hard and remaining still inside of you while he rubs your clit in quicker circles.
He could tell you were on the edge because of the way you were clenching and unclenching around his now overstimulated cock, he wanted to get you there so he could remain inside of you for a while.
“That’s it, my good girl. Thank you Angel, you took me so well. Y’can always handle whatever I give you it’s so fuckin hot. Now I’m gonna make sure y’re all taken care of, mmm? Just like I promised” he said softly into the shell of your ear before kissing your head gently.
“I’m cumming. I’m fucking cumming - oh- fuck-“ you whine, thighs shaking as some of your mixed arousal drips down his balls to his thigh.
“Gooood. Tha’s it, good girl” he praised, slowing his fingers to a slow rub as he worked you down.
“Mmm that was so nice Carmy” you hummed, looking back and kissing his lips lovingly.
“So nice princess. Thank y’for letting me” he kissed the tip of your nose gently “can I stay in a little longer” he kissed your jaw gently
“Course- I was actually gonna ask you to. I like falling asleep like this” you laced your fingers together holding your interlocked hands over your belly.
“Y’so fuckin perfect” he mumbled into the skin of your neck.
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto#the bear fx#carmy berzatto#the bear fic#the bear#the bear hulu#carmen berzatto fanfiction#the bear fanfiction#carmy berzatto fanfiction#carmen berzatto fluff#the bear carmen#carmen berzatto blurb#carmen berzatto smut#carmy berzatto smut#carmy the bear#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy#carmy x you#carmy smut#carmy x fem!reader#carmen berzatto the bear fanfiction#carmen berzatto the bear#borders & banners by saradika
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hi! i’m not sure if you’re requests are open, but if they are could you write one where chris’s gf is a little and she’s scared to tell him? thank you so much 💜💜💜
We Should Talk - C. Sturniolo
Summary : Chris discovers something that you weren't ready to tell him yet, and a tough conversation ensues.
Warnings : 1634
Word Count : Crying, mentions of anxiety
Pairing : Chris Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)
A/N : This is an age regression fic, which is purely safe for work and innocent. Any hate/disrespect towards me, my work, or readers, will not be tolerated.
Chris had a lot of social media. Of course he did, his entire job was on the Internet.
He had to have a social media presence to continue to keep that career afloat, but there were some apps that he just didn’t see a purpose in keeping. Every now and again he would redownload some of them just to see what all was going on in their fanbase on those specific apps, but he never really stuck around for long. One of those apps was Twitter, and it was arguably one of the most toxic platforms he had ever seen. Their fanbase wasn’t terribly chaotic, but the app just had so much discourse going on in it at any given point in time that Chris had never felt like it was worth it.
However, he was intrigued, so he had decided to download it and make a burner account so he could be private about his existence on the app, not wanting his notifications to be filled and his direct messages to be completely clogged. That did wonders for his ego every now and again, but he also never checked them and eventually it got overwhelming. But as he finished setting up the app, he saw something unrelated to his fanbase that he wasn’t expecting, at all.
When you finish setting up your account, the app asks you if you would like to sync your contacts. Chris had no issues doing this, as it would make it easier to view some of his friend’s profiles without having to search for them. To put it shortly, he wouldn’t have to go stalking. But one of the accounts that popped up after his contacts finished syncing caught his attention. It was an account covered in pastels, and the biography under it was very… interesting.
“nxsl agere <3 big age __, little age __. obsessed with my daddy who doesn’t know he’s my daddy… yet? nsfw dni!!!”
The thing that really threw him for a loop was that when he looked to see which contact was linked to this account, he read the words “in your contacts as : my girl .” He was confused when he saw this, and curious as well, having not known about this account. He thought he had known about all of your social media, as he followed you on everything except Twitter, but he had still seen your personal Twitter account, but he had no idea you had another one. He wasn’t angry or anything, not being a controlling boyfriend, just more intrigued than anything else. He had never seen an account like this, so he began to scroll through it.
He simply became more and more confused as he looked through the account. He saw a ton of posts about childlike things, coloring, shows, even pacifiers and bottles, and he found so many tweets in what seemed like baby talk, nearly all of them referencing your “daddy”. He really just didn’t understand what that meant until he scrolled through some replies on a post about an ask game, where your mutuals could ask you any questions, and one of them had asked you if you were single. You had of course replied with no, and the same person had asked if Chris was your carer. He didn’t really understand what that meant, but as he saw your reply, it seemed to fall into place.
“i think of him that way, but he doesn’t know. i hope he’ll be my daddy eventually!”
Daddy? The thought of it threw him for a loop. Chris was completely uncomfortable with any sort of daddy or parental kink, but there was something about this that really made him think it had nothing to do with sex. He hadn’t seen anything inappropriate at all, and he had been scrolling for a while now. So he wasn’t grossed out, because even in the biography of the account it says that it wasn’t sexual at all, but he didn’t know what to make of it. Finally, he turned to Google for help.
With the help of an Internet browser, he was able to decipher that the word “agere” was an abbreviation, for a thing called age regression. He continued to go down the rabbit hole of research and articles, and the more he read about it, the more the account made sense. He wasn’t confused or weirded out, if anything he felt sad that you hadn’t been able to come to him about this. He didn’t know how long you had been hiding this from him, and his heart hurt at the fact that you felt like he couldn’t know about it. He only felt worse for you when he saw some sad tweets, deciphering through the baby talk, seeing you upset that you were alone.
When he found out that it was normally caused by a lot of trauma or mental health issues, he realized that it really did fit his girlfriend. You had been through a lot in a short amount of time, and he couldn’t blame you for feeling so desperate to find something that helps you. He was happy for you, more than anything, because clearly this was helping you for the majority of the time. You of course had your sad moments, but he felt like there were a lot of good moments to outweigh them. From your account presence, you seemed like you were genuinely a lot happier, filled with pure and childish joy. The more he understood, the more he wanted to be there for you, to fill that role that you clearly also wanted him to do.
So, then came the problem of how is he going to bring this up to you? He didn’t know how he was going to move forward with this information without scaring you off or causing you to panic. You weren’t home right now, you had gone off to hang out with a friend after work, and he was expecting you back quite soon, so that only gave him a little bit of time for him to figure out how he was going to approach the situation. By the time he heard your car pull into the driveway, he was thinking that the best idea was probably to just sit down and talk to you about it, so that was exactly what he was planning on doing.
He greeted you the same way he normally did, hugging you and telling you he missed you, and he waited until after you’d eaten and were curled up in bed together, enjoying the time you got to spend relaxing with each other to bring it up.
“Babe?”
“Yeah?”
“Can we talk about something? It’s not bad at all, though.”
You were definitely on edge a little bit, despite his reassurances.
“Sure, what’s up?”
Chris didn’t move any part of him from the way he was, not wanting you to sense a change in body language and freak out.
“So I downloaded Twitter today and decided to set up an account, and you know how it asks you if you want to sync your contacts?”
“Yeah.. what about it?”
You were thinking that your personal account had been linked to your number, not your secret one, so you were on edge, but hadn’t figured out why he was bringing this up yet.
“Yeah. So, an account linked to your number came up, one that I didn’t know existed.”
Your cheeks immediately flushed red and you broke eye contact, knowing exactly what he meant now. You could feel the tears coating your waterline, anxiety building in your chest, feeling like a bomb ready to explode. You waited for the ball to drop, for something terrible to come out of Chris’ mouth, but he simply just held you closer.
“I think we should talk about it, okay?”
Nothing but a short “I’m sorry” slipped through your lips, and Chris looked confused at your response.
“For what, baby? You did nothing wrong, I’m not angry at you.”
The realization that he had probably, if not definitely, seen everything, caused a couple of the tears to fall from your eyes, as you desperately tried to stop them from becoming full on waterworks. Chris let out a soft hum, pulling you impossibly closer, wiping tears off of your face.
“It’s okay. I promise, it’s okay. You don’t have to talk much, I can. I did research on my own, I think I understand what’s going on, I just want you to tell me what you want from me, okay? I want to be here for you, I want to help wherever I can.”
The lack of judgment, the pure acceptance, the increasing love, made you unable to hold in any emotion any longer. You cried, and Chris simply held you, letting you cry all of your feelings out.
“You’re safe with me, okay? I’m not going to judge you. I know you’ve been alone in this for a while, and that can change if you want it to. Do you want that?”
He didn’t get a verbal reply, but he could feel the nod against his chest.
“Okay. Do you want me to be your daddy?”
Another nod, and you pulled your face away from his shirt, feeling bad when you saw the giant wet patch, and he immediately reassured you.
“Don’t worry, babe, it’s just a shirt. I can change. It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”
“Thank you.”
His smile was bright, as to soothe your fear, but his eyes showed sympathy.
“You don’t need to thank me. I’m more than happy to be here for you. I love you, and you’re going to be okay.”
As you whispered your own confession of love back to him, you knew it was true.
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Greetings Bestie, I am here with a Magnus blurb request
How about a piece where Magnus realizes he's in love with his partner, and it's at a funny & inappropriate time and place? Like they're in an interrogation or maybe undercover?
Perfectly Bad Timing
Warnings: fluff, police things, more fluff
Word Count: blurb
a/n: Bestiiie, thank you so much for this! I really hope you're going to like this lil' story! 🥹💖
Magnus's eyes were glued to you. Something you didn't seem to notice. If the young man across from you and him noticed? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Anyways, the policeman wouldn't care. He always had just eyes for the wonderful woman he gad the honour to call his girlfriend, but today... Today was one of these days on which he got reminded by himself how freaking much he actually loved you.
During an interrogation in the first case Kurt allowed you and Magnus to be leading inspectors was admittedly not exactly the right moment, but what was he supposed to do?
You two worked at the Ystad police station for almost five years together now and he had never... Never seen you interrogate a person. This time was a first - and to Magnus, it was stunning. You were stunning. The way you talked. How you always found the right words to say against the snappy, arrogant and pubescent teenager. Your smart and witty nature...
Magnus would even go as far and say it was dominant, and he couldn't deny that he found that to be pretty hot.
The palm of your hand slamming down on the wooden table everybody sat at, caused the young policeman to snap out of his daydream. At least a little.
"Stop lying to us, Nils. We knew you were at the boathouse. We found your goddamn fingerprints!" You accused the eighteen-year-old across from you. By now you were utterly frustrated and kind of angry. Not just because the disrespectful young man just wouldn't cooperate, no... You were also angry because you already sat inside this constricting, small room for almost an hour and your colleague/boyfriend hadn't said a single word!
You gritted your teeth and slowly turned to face the curly haired man. "Magnus?" He shortly blinked and looked up; oceanic blues meeting your Y/E/C ones. "Yes?" You nodded at the door. "For a word..."
Magnus nodded in agreement; noticed immediately that you weren’t in a good mood. His chair scratched over the polished floor as he stood up and followed you outside in the hallway wordlessly.
You had crossed your arms and waited for him to close the door shut. "Magnus..." You started and took a deep breath; trying not to snap at him right away. Perhaps he had a reason why he didn't say something yet. "We are in there for almost an hour and after five minutes you kind of zoned out completely. Baby, you are absolutely no help! That's shitty. If you're just sitting beside me and staring holes into the wall, I might as well do this alone."
Magnus swallowed hard. You could see his Adam's apple bobbing. And he was blushing. "I-I know, I-" "Then why are you doing it?" You interrupted him. "This isn't working without you! Nils might be the key to solve this case! We can't let this opportunity sl-"
The policeman had heard enough. He knew what this was about. His head told him that repeatedly. But his heart... His heart just wanted one thing... For his lips to kiss you. So, he did.
Magnus interrupted you with his mouth on yours; hands on your hips and pulling you against his body.
You were shocked at first - like frozen, but then you couldn't help but to melt against his touch. Against his sinful kiss.
"Mags..." You panted, once he broke the kiss to get some fresh air into his lungs. "W-What... What was that about?" A boyish smile grazed the curly haired man's face; cheeks reddening. "Me, realising how much I love you, min älskling. I'm sorry for not doing my job, but... All I could focus on, was you."
Your expression softened. He was so cute and kind. How could you possibly be mad at him?
"Aww..." You hugged your boyfriend tightly; burying your hands in his wild, blond curls. "I love you so so much as well." You kissed him again and again and again; the ongoing integration forgotten... At least for a few minutes.
Tags: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @huntedmusicgardenn @hisredheadedgoddess28 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fictive-sl0th @loz-3 @javagirl328 @icytrickster17 @jaidenhawke @eleniblue @lou12346789 @lady-rose-moon @km-ffluv @herdetectivetheorist @lokiforever @crimson25 @simping-for-marvel @cakesandtom @vanilla-daydreaming @kimanne723 @glitchquake @lulubelle814 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @buttercupcookies-blog @november-rayne @mandywholock1980 @lokidbadguy @smolvenger
#campfire sleepover#2k follower celebration#magnus martinsson#wallander#wallander fanfiction#magnus martinsson x reader#magnus martinsson x you#magnus martinsson x y/n#tom hiddleston x reader#tom hiddleston characters
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Mermista requested & designed by @aut2imagineart ~
#ahh i love she-ra so muuch it was fun to draw her <3#thank you so much for the request i hope you like it! c:#mermista#she ra#she ra and the princesses of power#she ra fanart#she ra netflix#art request#mermaid
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I was not the one who sent that ask 💙
But I do know who it is 🎶
Glad you enjoyed the lil' gift tho, I'm going back to (kinda) trying to réviser for my exams :'(
eee i'm glad you liked it :'Dc (i didn't wanna seem like i was ungrateful for the gift i really do love the art and the sweet intent behind it and the fact you even made me something in the first place >:'Dc i swear you guys are too good for me<333)
and don't think i'm not already planning revenge on you blue! i haven't drawn your pink boys yet after all... >;)
i was also technically supposed to be on a break from social media since i also have exams all week but it's fiiine i'm fine B) (hhh i am sO screwed :'D xD)
thanks again you awesome bean<333
(.....wait- it wasn't you???)
#ask#i am running every possibility in my head but wow ok i really thought it was you xD a very sweet coincidence tho<33#wait does that mean someone else is planning on making some kross content??? wHAT#man i am forever grateful to you guys for fueling my love for this fandom but sometimes you're too sweet for your own good >:')c <333#i wish i knew what you guys wanted to see more coming from me this year! i've gotten some general requests when i asked you all abt it#(and i'm taking notes >;)) but you guys are asking for so little like- i was already planning on drawing all of that so win win right! hhh#i'm getting distracted hhh thank you sO much for everything as always blue!!! i hope you all have a super fantastic day<333
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@kamipyre♚ smol starter call
♔ ———–
“Miss Nakamura,”
they swiftly approach the bench when they spot her; a sitting spot that’s actually not so far away from the gloomy building where Detective Lee’s frowzy office is. A hand holds a plastic bag and the other a drink carrier with a pair of beverages.
“I’ve brought us lunch...well, dessert. Detective Lee doesn’t like these things too much, so I left something else outside his door. I could hear him grumble, so I know he’s okay.”
A small chuckle, before sitting next to Suki and putting the bag between them, as well as the drink carrier. Hands then proceed to fumble about, trying to gather the items he’s brought her.
“I wasn’t sure what flavor you liked, so I brought strawberry,”
they place a medium-sized, plastic cup full of strawberry boba close to her, as well as the thick straw that accompanies it. Then, they fetch the fruit sando (perhaps she’s familiar with it or has heard about it?) they brought her --- the bread is pink. She likes this color, right? Jae-Hwan has seen her sport items with this color, as well as the rose-colored Hello Kitty bandages she tends to slap on Detective Lee’s wounded hands when he’s too distracted doing something else to openly protest. And the pink, sparkly hair ties that they sometimes find latched to Detective Lee’s long hair. The thought makes them smile.
They’re glad the ever so grumpy detective decided to hire a pink beam.
The Inspector leaves the sweet sandwich close to her, too.
“If you don’t like any of these choices, I can change them for something you might like. We could even trade drinks if strawberry isn’t your thing. Mine’s honey milk tea. I also brought a fruit sandwich for myself, but there’s Jumeok-bap in the bag, in case you want something saltier.”
A pause; a friendly grin. He looks up to see her.
“So, how have you been feeling so far? Detective Lee isn’t giving you a hard time, is he?”
———– ♔
#kamipyre#♔ || verse three (arc two).#♔ || interaction (jae hwan | suki).#FERRE!!! HELLO UwU!!!#THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING A STARTER!!! HERE'S JAE-HWAN!! LET THE SHENANIGANS BEGIN :D#I HOPE!! This starter is okay?? I hope I didn't surpass any limits or misinterpreted anything#BUT!! As always!! If you'd like me to change anything absolutely let me know and I will C:#HOPE YOU'RE HAVING A GREAT DAY <3! CARE YOU :D#♔ || queue.
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I absolutely love your Alastor smut! Is there anyway you can make one where your Vox’s ex and Alastor decided to somehow show off to Vox how much reader loves his c*ck more?? A special broadcast maybe?? Please keep up the great work!
a/n: i love vox but if there's one thing i love more, its making him feel inferior to alastor 😍 this is soo good. REQUESTS OPEN! 🩷
tags: 18+ smut nsfw!
vox thought alastor couldn't get any worse, there was nothing that shit-for-brains demon could do to enrage him more. that was until valentino told him that alastor had a new pretty little thing hanging on his arm. "he WHAT?!" vox's voice cracks from the sheer force he puts behind those words. valentino snickers, watching vox run to his security room.
and there you were, locked arms with that fucking deer demon, walking down the street. you looked absolutely enthralled with that fucker! "you've gotta be fucking kidding me..." he growls, static filling his vision. as if alastor can sense that they're being watched, he winks at the camera and pulls you down a more secluded path. vox puts his fist straight through the screen before pacing around the room. it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before his ears pick up that voice, that shitty radio voice.
"good evening viewers!" alastor begins, making vox's head spin around. the tvs were blank, just audio playing through them. he's about to smash the rest of them when something catches his attention. he swears he hears a familiar noise, your noises specifically. then he hears you panting, and blood rushes to his groin first and then his face. "thank you for tuning into a very special late night broadcast." alastor's voice sounds... breathier.
"what the fuck is-" vox mutters to himself before his eyes go wide. "o-oh god." you moan, sounding far too sexy. and enjoying yourself far too much. "yes alastor, fuck. that's so good." your whines play out, filling the room and vox is just about to lose it. "is alastor fucking your ex?" valentino leans against the doorframe, a smug look on his face. "you’re so tight, my dear. your cunt was made for my cock just as i was made for radio." he laughs to himself, his hands finding your hips as he fucks you over his desk.
this little plan of his was working just as intended. he asked, of course, if you'd be interested in ruffling your exes feathers a little bit and you agreed. this special broadcast was only being shown directly to vox through his security. not a single other soul would be able to hear you but vox. it sent a certain chill up your spine, knowing that he was definitely listening. every thrust of alastor's cock presses you harder into the desk, bruises sure to form later in the evening.
"that's kinda hot, yknow-" "SHUT UP VAL." vox feels as though he's about to implode, anger coursing through him in a way he's sure he's never felt. "i am going to finish him. both of them. they won't live this down."
valentino covers his mouth to stop from laughing. "it sounds like they're about to finish each other." and he was right. your breathy little moans are a dead giveaway. "please, please your cock feels so good. g-gonna cum." vox paces the room, plotting your downfall but his cock is hard as a fucking rock in his pants.
"such a good girl, you are. you sing so pretty my dear." alastor grunts, pressing the head of his cock up against your cervix before he feels you clamp down around him. with every pulse of youe orgasm, alastor follows. "cum alastor, p-please fill my pussy." you gasp, riding out wave after wave of deep pleasure. vox should turn this off, he should walk away but he can't make his feet move.
and after alastor finishes deep inside of you, filling you to the point of it leaking down his cock, he lets out an almost sinister chuckle. "thank you my loyal viewers for tuning in for this one of a kind show! we hope you thoroughly enjoyed."
the room is silent after the broadcast ends. that is, until velvette clears her throat. "was that alastor fucking your bitch?" she raises a brow, a slow smirk spreading over her lips when she sees vox's face.
"no one talk to me. i have business to attend to." and with that, vox disappears, leaving valentino and velvette to themselves.
"bold move, i gotta hand it to him."
#hazbin hotel smut#alastor x reader#alastor x reader smut#alastor x you#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor smut#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin alastor smut#alastor#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin hotel imagines#hazbin hotel vox#vox hazbin hotel#hazbin vox
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Wasted Summers
Summary: Yet another cliche store of a friends with benefits arrangement blossoming into something that is so much more.
an: this went from something that I wanted to make a Drabble about, to remembering an awesome request that someone sent in, to mixing them both?? To the sweet nony that sent this, I hope this lives up to your expectations of me, and I thank you (and everyone else) for trusting me with something you’d like to see written out! I tweaked a few things, so I hope that’s okay. The ending is sooo rushed on this bc I really wanted to get something out to you all as quickly as possible so I apologize! As always, I love you all so so much. (P.S chapter two of vampire!Ellie is on the way!)
Warnings: MDNI!!, 18+, smut, angst, Ellie is a giant fucking player and had no intentions of settling down (or does she? 😏), Ellie is extremely emotionally unavailable, scissoring, lots of making out, lots of pet names, reader catches a cold, mentions of headaches, medicine, and just your general cold symptoms tbh, please lmk if I missed anything!
You had only made the mistake of asking Ellie what you were to her one time in your friendship.
You couldn’t really help yourself either. She just looked so fucking pretty that night, praising you so well, saying all the right things. Could anyone really blame you for taking it the wrong way? Assuming that she was trying to send signals to you in the same way that you’d tried to send to her?
“Fuck…that’s it…always so fucking good for me, my good fucking girl” she panted out above you as she drilled her sopping wet pussy down onto yours, your head absolutely spinning with the feeling she gave you, the way your heart overflowed with the delicious feeling of euphoria.
You struggled to keep your eyes open, eyebrows furrowed as your fingers dug into the skin of Ellie’s thighs, your own legs trembling as you felt your orgasm growing closer and closer.
Ellie was quick to grab your cheeks, squishing them together and forcing you to form a pout as she tugged your face to look at her.
“No no no…look at me baby, keep your fucking eyes on me when you cum…that’s it…that’s a good girl” she groaned out through gritted teeth, always loving watching you struggle as you came undone at her doings.
“I’m…fuck Ellie…I’m…c-close” you stuttered out, back arching as your lips parted, glossy eyes staring up at the girl almost in awe as she drove you towards your third orgasm of the night, struggling to hang onto the very thin rope that was keeping you connected to this world.
She smirked down at you, giving you an encouraging nod as her tattooed hands gripped your thighs tightly, sure to leave marks in the morning.
“That’s my fuckin girl…come on baby…fuck…I’m…fuck!” She shouted out, her own back arching as her hips sputtered, her pussy gushing onto yours as she came hard with a strangled moan. The sound of her cumming alone was enough to make your own eyes flutter shut, hands flying down to your mattress as you gripped the sheets tightly, your knuckles aching as you screamed out Ellie’s name over and over again, tears threatening to spill out your eyes with the intensity of your orgasm.
“M-mm….fuck” you stuttered out, struggling to catch your breath as your naked chest rose and fell, trying to find a steady pace for yourself. Ellie gave a lazy chuckle as she stared down at you, her hand coming up to give your cheeks a quick squeeze.
“Did good for me princess..” she praised you, your heart swelling at her words.
Ellie’s words never failed to make your head spin.
She was quick to roll off of you, her back hitting your bed with a thud as she laid next to you, staring up at your ceiling as she tried to recollect herself.
And that’s what it usually was with you and Ellie. She’d come to your house, you guys would either play video games or watch a movie, she would get handsy and things would always end with her tugging you to your bedroom, either between your legs or on top of you. You loved every second of it, being with Ellie, feeling Ellie, it was all perfect all the time but…
You couldn’t help but want more.
Your heart felt empty every time she left, every time she jumped up from your bed, claiming that she either had to wake up early for work in the morning, or she had someone waiting for her in the city, leaving you alone in your apartment with nothing more than a quick squeeze on your hip, and the slamming of your door as she left. And maybe it was the fact that she didn’t immediately leave your bed that night that even prompted you to ask in the first place, a silent sign from the universe that this was your chance to understand where you stood with her.
“Ellie…” you called out her name softly, still staring at your ceiling before you turned on your side to look at her. She responded with a gentle hum, her arm bent and propped against the back of her head. Your heart is beating so fast now, staring at her pretty features, her profile was almost from that of a painting, or a sculpture. It made you wanna reach out and gently trace them, burning the feeling of her face into your memory.
You don’t realize you’re staring until she looks over at you, eyebrows furrowing for a minute before she gives a chuckle. “What? Do I have something on my face?” She questions, and you know she’s teasing you. You roll your eyes before giving her a soft, playful nudge.
A moment passes, and you’re simply staring at her, trying to find the words to say to her, how to properly ask her what you’ve been dying to ask her.
Her features soften, a soft pout on her lips as she turns to you more, her body facing yours entirely. “Hey…everything okay?” She asks gently, and her tone alone is making you want to pass out then and there, the care in her voice almost making you whine.
You take a deep inhale, before your mouth opens and you finally say it.
“What…what are we?” You mumble out, blinking a few times as you stare up at the girl, waiting for her to respond.
But it starts to feel like you’re waiting forever, because Ellie’s jaw goes slack as she stares at you with wide eyes, clearly shocked that you’d even think to ask her something like that. It puts your stomach in knots, and it makes you regret even asking in the first place, but before you can even retract fully, telling her some lame excuse about it being just a joke, or a dumb prank, she’s opening her mouth to respond.
“I…we’re friends…you know that, don’t you?” She asks carefully, eyeing you as if this should all be common knowledge to you, as if you’d always been on the same page to begin with.
You blink a few times at her, unable to respond to her or even agree with what she’s saying. You feel choked up, throat closing up as the inevitable tears threaten to spill past your cheeks, the girl of your dreams confirming that you two are in fact not on the same page.
“Don’t you?” She repeats, her voice growing worried as she stares down at you with her eyebrows furrowed, scared that she’s seeing things when she notices the way your eyes gloss over.
And it prompts you to quickly clear your throat, practically sucking the tears back into your body as you give her a quick nod, all while scooting away from her a bit. Because suddenly, it feels like Ellie is entirely too close to you in your bed.
“Yeah…yeah I do” you try to chirp out, putting on your best attempt at trying to sound like you weren’t completely dying inside.
Of course she can see right through it, the girl staring down at you wearily as she tries to read you. You almost hope she’ll speak up about it, comfort you and tell you that whatever you had going on was okay, and it was normal to not have a label on things.
But she doesn’t.
She gives you a quick nod before she awkwardly clears her own throat, the tension in your room thick as she reaches behind her on the ground for her t shirt, quickly pulling it on over her head before she scrambles out of your bed to search for her clothes. One by one, she silently dresses herself in her underwear, and her jeans, and soon, she looks exactly like the way she looked when she first got to your house.
You aren’t sure if Ellie’s ever been so eager to leave you before.
You inhale deeply as you sit up, tugging the blankets over your chest, suddenly scared to be bare in front of the girl, as if she wasn’t sucking on your tits mere moments ago. You can’t even find it in yourself to ask why she’s in such a hurry, the embarrassment from your first question eating you up to almost nothing as it is.
Ellie’s the one that breaks the silence first.
“Right…so…I gotta meet Jesse in town…I’ll uh…” she trails off as she trips over her own feet, walking backwards to quickly open your room door. It looks almost like she can’t leave quick enough, so you simply nod and give her a wave, with a half smile.
“Yeah…bye Ellie” your tone is dismissive, way too dismissive and you know that. But at this point, you want Ellie out of your apartment just as much as it seems like she wants to leave. It’s too awkward, to much of a grey area has covered the both of you that you desperately want to escape now, even if you were the one that brought it onto yourself.
She’s taken aback by the way you rush her out, regardless of the fact that she’s being just as dodgy as you are, if not more. She tries her best to ignore the way her heart aches at the way you’re dismissing her, avoiding the way it makes her feel like you’re kicking her out. Instead, she swallows thickly and gives a quick nod before she stutters over her own words, a sorry attempt at a goodbye, and leaves.
When she does leave, you’re left with a heavy feeling settled onto you. It makes you feel like you’ve done something wrong, like you’ve ruined something by talking too much or opening your mouth. Things were fine between you and Ellie, a bit confusing, but if it wasn’t broken, why try to fix it?
That night, you could only lay in your bed that smelled too heavily of Ellie, and think of all the ways you could try to force not only her, but yourself to forget about the events that just took place, desperate to get back to the way things were.
Waking up with a sore throat and a runny nose a few weeks after the incident with Ellie seemed to be just your luck.
Perhaps all of the stress and overthinking that you endured during the time weakened your immune system, the lack of sleep that you were getting not helping much either. You couldn’t really help it, not entirely at least. You should have seen it coming though, all the signs were right there in front of you.
Things had been fine with you and Ellie after everything happened that night, everything going back to normal almost too easily. You were both very much on the same page of pretending as though none of it happened, and Ellie only confirmed that when she texted you the morning after asking if you were going to attend some plans that your friend group had included you in a few days prior.
While the relief you felt alleviated a lot of the stress the situation brought on, you couldn’t avoid the nagging feeling that came with the unknown. Your overthinking was in overdrive of course, constantly wondering what Ellie was thinking, what she was going to do with your friendship, it was all too overwhelming.
Things that night with Ellie were fine, great even. You two were sat together in the booth of the lounge that you had all met up in, her hands dancing along your thighs, toying with the hem of your dress as you laughed at something Dina said. To your surprise, she even leaned into you towards the end of the night, whispering in your ear, asking if you wanted to get out of there, which was a telltale sign that Ellie wanted to get you alone.
You should’ve known you were coming down with something when you gave her a shy smile and politely declined, making up some excuse about being tired. Tired was an understatement, you were exhausted, and the worst part was, you couldn’t put your finger on what the hell was going on with you. Ellie could sense it to, frowning at the way you quickly brushed her off and scooted out of the booth, making you the first one to go home that night.
You thought it was just a lack of sleep, your body begging you to just relax and take care of yourself for once. Making a big cup of tea and giving yourself a warm bath would do just the trick, surly. You felt hopeful when tucking yourself into bed and drifting off to sleep almost instantly.
However, the next morning was brutal. Your throat felt like you’d been swallowing nails, your nose stuffy, head filled with so much pressure it felt as though it would pop at any time. Instantly, you knew you were sick, and as inconvenient as it was, you were due for it. You hadn’t gotten sick in who knows how long, so it almost felt like your body was forcing you to focus on yourself rather than Ellie for once.
You always wondered how people function properly when they were sick, getting things done, being productive, because you were the complete opposite. Being sick meant shutting down for approximately seven to nine business days until all of your symptoms were at least a tiny bit alleviated. You wouldn’t talk to anyone, or even tell anyone that you were sick, all you wanted was to sulk in bed and feel sorry for yourself until you got even remotely better.
You didn’t even text Ellie.
And your absence is what sends her into somewhat of a frenzy of anxiety. She’s so used to hearing from you almost every day, if not through text messages or calls, then through other apps where you two can send stupid memes and videos to each other. The first few days she rights off as you simply being busy, even if the entire situation at your house has her on edge and she’s thinking the absolute worst. But a day or two turns into a week, and it’s the longest Ellie has ever gone without hearing from you.
So now shes worried.
Because what happened to you? Are you angry with her? Have you finally realized that Ellie isn’t enough for you? That this awkward little game that you and her are playing is far too good for you? Because it is. Ellie knows deep in her bones that it is, she knows that she’s playing a dangerous game with you, dangling someone as fantastic as you by a thread, keeping you both separated by the whole friends with benefits facade that she knows is a load of bullshit.
And why does she do it? The same reason why anyone does, of course.
Ellie is a coward.
She’s the biggest coward there ever was, terrified of commitment, scared that the second she makes you here’s entirely things will change, and she’ll be forced to lose the single best thing that’s ever happened to her.
That, and the fact that you and Ellie have been friends since you were kids.
You both happened to be the new kids at the school in town, and it’s what brought you two together. You found friends in one another, and you decided to tackle the cruel adolescent world of middle school together rather than on your own.
The friends with benefits thing didn’t start until college, when one drunk night together lead to you straddling Ellie in some gross frat bedroom, grinding down on her as you pushed your tongue down her throat. At that point, Ellie had experienced many different nights with many different girls, earning a bit of a reputation at your university as a player, which you were very aware of. But regardless of all the girls she’d fallen into bed with, no one ever made her feel the way you did, never even came close.
And Ellie knew she couldn’t let go of that.
It became her own personal addiction, the silent agreement of fucking her best friend becoming a very frequent occurrence. Sleepovers would turn into nights filled with kisses and bliss, study sessions would almost always end with Ellie hovering over you with her hand shoved between your legs, playing with your pussy as much as she wanted until you became a moaning mess for her.
You two never truly discussed what you were, not until that night at least.
Ellie always thanked her lucky stars over the fact that you simply went along with it, allowing her to play with your body whenever she wanted, and you with hers. It was like a blessing, her beautiful best friend that she’d been obsessed with since the first day of sixth grade, now letting her see her in a way that she knew many didn’t see you in.
She should’ve known it was too good to be true.
Because that look in your eyes that night made Ellie’s heart race, and while she’d dreamt of you asking her that more times than she could count, it suddenly became her biggest nightmare. She couldn’t leave your room fast enough, the look of want, need, love in your eyes, practically begging her to make you more than just her friend she occasionally fucked.
As much as she didn’t want them to, she knew things would change after that.
She saw it in the way you acted that night at the lounge, denying her of alone time with you, quickly scurrying out of the booth as if you couldn’t get further away from her. And now your absence was only further confirming Ellie’s worst nightmare. You were done with her, years of friendship flushed down the fucking toilet because she was too much of a fucking coward to…
To….
To tell you how in love with you she was.
For once, why couldn’t she suck up her pride and just admit that she was in love? Did love make her weak? Did it mean she had to leave behind a life she didn’t even enjoy that much? The girls were great, a fun way to pass the time, but none of them held a candle to you, and she knew that. She even tried hooking up with someone the night she left your apartment, and it made her feel fucking sick.
And now you were leaving, and she had no one to blame but herself.
In true Ellie fashion though, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.
As much as she knew she didn’t deserve one, she wanted an explanation. You both had been friends for too fucking long for her to be thrown away like this, even if it was her fault.
So? A little over a week since that night at the lounge, Ellie is marching her way up to your apartment, and landing a hard knock on your familiar front door.
The noise makes you jolt out of your sleep, the sound of the harsh knocking echoing throughout your small apartment. It makes you whine, because after yet another miserable night with no sleep, you were finally able to knock yourself out with some cold medicine you had delivered to your house. The sleep was heavy and uncomfortable but it was the only way you were able to get even a little bit of shut eye. You hoped and prayed that whoever it was would get the memo that you wouldn’t come to the door, however another string of knocks made you groan loudly, your sore throat rattling as you did so.
Your bones ached as you tossed your blanket back and swung your legs over the bed. The cold wooden floor was unwelcoming to your feet, making you shiver as you pushed yourself off of the bed with weak arms, slowly trudging towards your door.
When you finally get to it, you try your best to clear your throat, knowing that it’s all in vain. Nothing was strong enough to bring back your voice from the raspy sound that it was now, all the coughing and sneezing making it so that you could barely get one syllable out let alone a full sentence.
“Yes?” You rasp out as you opened the door, pouting in annoyance as you rub your sleep filled eyes, arms wrapping around your body to stop the inevitable shiver that ran down your spine every second.
Ellie feels her heart break when she sees you. Your hair is messy, dark bags settled under your eyes, nose red, and skin lacking the usual radiance you always emitted. You didn’t even wear your usual cute matching pajama set, instead wearing a big t shirt that nearly swallowed you whole, and a pair of baggy sweatpants that were extremely faded.
You were sick.
And all the mean things she had planned to say to you suddenly disappear, now replaced with the urge to take care of you, and beg to understand why you didn’t call her when you started feeling this way.
“Baby…” she almost whines out, heart aching at the sight of you. You didn’t even realize who it was at first, your fever ridden brain having a hard time adjusting to the figure at the door. Her voice gives it away first.
“Ellie?” You croak out, and the sound is nearly enough to bring Ellie to tears.
Without another word, she’s gently pushing past you to get into your apartment, shutting the door behind her. Her eyes never lead your figure as she studies your face.
“Ellie…you shouldn’t be here, I’m really not-“ you try, because the last thing you want is to get Ellie sick, subjecting her to the hell that you’ve had to live through for the past week.
She quickly cuts you off, shaking her head as she grabs a hold of your wrist, tugging you to your room.
“When did you start feeling this way?” Her tone is stern, but soft, and it makes your heart melt.
A nasty cough rattles your chest, and you groan at the pain you feel in your tired lungs. You let her pull the sheets back and help you into bed, instantly sighing as the warmth wraps you up, making you feel a bit better.
You clear your throat before you respond. “The morning after the lounge…didn’t wanna bother anyone” you confess, now letting the girl tuck you into bed.
There’s a permanent frown on her face as she bring her palm to your head, which only deepens when she feels how warm you are. “You’re burning up…” she mumbles under her breath.
She looks around your room, only to see that your beside table is littered with tiny signs that you’d been trying to take care of yourself. There were cough drops, different bottles of medicine, a box of tissues and a small compress. She sighs as she grabs one of the bottles, reading the back before she speaks to you again.
“When’s the last time you took this?” She questions, another ugly cough rattling through your poor lungs, making you whine as you push your face into your pillow, feeling utterly fed up with the current condition of your body.
“Dunno…just been trying to sleep it off instead” your words make Ellie frown deeply, knowing how stubborn you’d always been with medicine, often times far too deep in felt pity to even bring yourself to take it.
“Well you’re going to take some now..come on, sit up” she urges you gently, her tattooed hand gently grabbing your arm and pulling you sit up. She shook out the correct dosage of medicine for you before she handed it to you with a bottle of water, her green eyes filled with worry and concern as she eyed you as you took it.
She felt her heart ache at the mere sight of you, a permanent pout on your lips, eyes drained of the familiar brightness she’d come to love oh so much. She could see how much it visibly pained you to even drink the water, your hand coming up to cup your throat as if to soothe the pain from the outside in.
“Hurts?” She questioned gently, her hand coming behind you to rub your back gently. You give her a slow nod, eyes closing as you lean into her and her touch, the feeling of her warm hands making the chill in your bones melt almost immediately.
She gives you a nod before she helps you lay back down. “Stay here…I know what’ll help, okay baby?” She reassures you. You’re too weak to even respond, a shaky sigh leaving your lips as you settle down against your pillow, the medicine already doing its work to give you a break from the intense cough your body had grown used to within the last few days.
Ellie is on her feet once she’s sure you’ve settled, walking out of your bedroom and into your kitchen where she grabs your little tea kettle, filling it up with water and putting the water to boil. She grabs your favorite mug while the water heats up, as well as some peppermint tea and some honey.
She finds herself deep in thought while she waits for the water to boil, a soft frown playing on her lips as her knuckle raps against your counter.
Ellie absolutely hates herself for not being more proactive with you. She should’ve known you were getting sick from the moment you weren’t responding to her text messages earlier in the week, it was a typical sign on your end that you weren’t feeling like yourself, something that you’d often do to not burden anyone with what you were feeling. But you were all alone, and it was Ellie’s job as your friend to take care of you when you needed her.
She sighs to herself as she finishes making up your tea, tapping the spoon on the edge of your mug before she brought it to her mouth, humming at the taste before she nodded to herself and brought it to your room.
The medicine must have knocked you out immediately, because your eyes are closed and your lips are parted in the slightest as soft snore escapes from your body. It makes Ellie groan to herself as she gently sits on your bed, hating the fact that she had to disturb your sleep.
“Baby?…come on pretty girl…wake up and drink a bit of this, then you can go back to bed” her soft voice reaches you in the depths of your fever ridden brain, and it makes you blink your eyes open to see if it’s another dream, or if she’s actually there.
Hazy eyes blink back at Ellie, a soft whine leaving your lips as you bring your hand up to rub your eyes, the nasty cough rattling through your chest as you promptly sit up for her, reaching out and taking the mug.
“You shouldn’t be here Ellie….what if I get you sick?” You croak out before bringing the mug to your lips, taking a sip of the warm drink, allowing it to soothe your aching throat.
Ellie watches you intently before she rolls her eyes playfully. “Jokes on you, getting sick would just mean you have to take care of me” she gives you a wink, and you groan softly, nudging her with your blanket clad foot before you take another sip and set the mug on your bedside table.
“Feels like my fever broke…I should be able to take care of myself now, El” you try, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you settle back against your pillow, tugging your blankets up to your chin.
Ellie watches you closely, you were clearly in need of sleep, exhaustion taking over your weak body the second your head hit the pillow. She simply hummed at your response before she pushed herself off the bed. You assumed this was here obeying, silently leaving because she assumed you were already fast asleep, however the girl was kicking off her shoes instead, leaving her only in her sweatpants and her t-shirt before she promptly crawled in next to you in your bed.
You whine softly, but still let her tug you closer. Her strong hands are like ice on your warm thigh, tugging it over her leg and pressing your body against hers. She’s so warm, and you can’t help but push your cold hands under her shirt, pressing against her warm stomach. She chuckles softly as it makes her shiver, keeping you close regardless.
“Might as well stay since I’m here now, yeah?” She hums out softly, earning only a weak hum from you in response.
Ellie isn’t sure if she’s ever seen anyone fall asleep so quickly, soft snores leaving your lips again as she holds you close, rubbing small shapes into your back as she simply lays there, holding you in your bed.
It makes her heart ache when she realizes this is the first time she’s back here with you since you asked her what you were to her that one night. It makes her wonder how much things would’ve changed up until now if she’d told you the truth, told you just how much she wanted you to be hers and only hers, dropping the stupid act of being single and being free for you would’ve been much smarter than what she did instead.
Seeing you sick, in bed and all alone made Ellie feel like she’d failed you, not only as someone who was madly in love with you, but as your friend. What kind of friend ignored the signs, forcing you to take care of yourself when you felt so poorly.
Watching you lay there, sleeping soundly as you so deserved in her arms made Ellie’s heart burst with a feeling she knew she’d had for you for such a long time, since she’d met you really. Taking care of you felt even better.
So that’s exactly what she was gonna do.
Ellie doesn’t leave your side the entire time she’s there with you.
Which is about three days. You were already coming to the end of your cold when she had found you, and while it felt worse than when you first got sick, the end was near.
Your heart would flutter every time Ellie would wake you up for your medicine, or gently tug you out of bed for a warm bath, she’d even managed to run down to your favorite cafe for a bowl of soup in record breaking time to make sure you were getting something good to eat. She did everything in her power to nurse you back to health, never once agreeing with your many pleas to leave you there alone before you got her sick.
When you finally stopped asking her to leave you, you were left with the plaguing thoughts that you tried getting rid of, the ones filled with Ellie denying your question, denying you of the answer you wanted so badly when you asked her what you were to her. It made no sense to you, someone that used your body at their disposal, caring so much for your health and your wellbeing, you truly couldn’t outweigh the reasons as to why Ellie was suddenly here, when she wasn’t before.
It didn’t take long for your fever to break completely, and for the cough to subside to something that happened only once in a while rather than every minute or so. It was finally starting to look up for you.
Which meant Ellie had to leave soon.
You were sat up in your bed while Ellie was in your kitchen, washing up some of the dishes from when you and her had eaten together, a permanent frown on your lips as you toyed with the blanket draped over your legs.
Ellie returned, a soft smile on her face as she watched the way you were sat up, looking far more alert than a few days prior.
“You’re looking so much better, baby…that’s good to see” she hummed out as she moved to crawl into bed with you, taking her usual spot. She leaned in, wanting to press a kiss to your neck, she lets out a soft huff when you try to pull away.
“Hm? What’s the matter? I already told you I don’t care if I get sick…” you can hear the smirk in her voice as she leans in again, this time aiming for the corner of your lips.
You just couldn’t take it anymore.
You pressed your hand to her chest, finally looking into her eyes. She can tell by the look on your face that this is much more than you fussing over her getting sick.
“I can’t…what is this Ellie? I appreciate you taking care of me and helping me get better but…” your words trail off, a soft pout on your lips as you struggle with the words you want to say before you let out a gentle sigh, eyes dropping from Ellie’s, looking down at your lap instead.
“This feels too intimate…the kissing…the way touch me…” you explain, your voice falling to nothing but a small, hoarse sound.
“I want to respect what you said about us…but you’re making it really hard when you treat me like I’m your girlfriend” you sigh out, hating that you even had to explain any of this to Ellie in the first place.
She’s frowning at this point, eyebrows furrowed as she eyes you carefully. It feels like you’re practically twisting the knife that had been lodged into her heart from the moment you asked her what you were to her. She ignorantly wished you two could just ignore it all, let it blow over while she pretended she could have you in the way she wanted, all while hurting you at the same time.
“I think we just…shouldn’t do these things anymore…the kissing, the fucking….” Your words are shaky, and Ellie can hear that you’re at the brink of tears without even seeing your face.
And she knows this is it, she’s lost her chance.
You finally look up at her, your eyes red and filled with tears threatening to spill out onto your soft cheeks.
“I’m sorry…I appreciate you coming here and helping me but I can’t-“ your words are cut off by Ellie’s lips on yours. Both of her hands are cupping your face as she gives you a kiss so filled with passion, it’s nearly enough to make you whine. But as good as her lips feel, you’re quick to push her off.
“Ellie no! I told you, you’ll get sick” you complain, your hands wrapped around both of her wrists as you pull them away from your face.
A moment passes as she simply stares into your eyes, a pleading looking written on her face as if she’s silently begging you to hear her, to understand what she wants to convey all without saying a single word in the process.
But you don’t.
“I’m not like you, Ellie…I get attached, and I want more with you…more than you want with me and it just won’t-“ it’s the second time she’s cutting you off for the night, this time she speaks.
“And I love that!” she blurts out finally, her voice cracking with the amount of emotions that filled her up, from simply staring into your eyes.
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you eye the girl closely, shaking your head as you try to understand. “But you said….” Your words trail off, because even recalling the words she’d said to you that night hurts.
Ellie sighs softly before she shakes her head. “I know what I said…and I’m an idiot for it” she groans out, knowing deep down this would always have been the outcome of her actions, whether she wanted it or not.
She reached forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before her hand dropped down to cup your cheek gently.
“I’ve wanted you…since the moment I laid eyes on you” she breaths out. You can practically hear the relief it brings her, just from admitting it to you. Ellie feels as though the weight of the world is lifted off of her shoulders when the words fall from the tip of her tongue.
You simply stare at her, eyes wide and eager to hear more, practically begging her to go on.
Her pink tongue darts from her behind her lips, thumb stroking your cheek gently before she continued to speak. “I felt like when we started doing this…it would be my ticket to finally telling you how much I love you…clearly I’m too much of a coward for that” she chuckles out, only half joking as the bitter words fall into the air of your room.
The moment of silence that falls between the two of you feels like an eternity, it feels too long since you’ve said something and it makes Ellie feel sick. She didn’t know what she was hoping for when she told you, it whatever was happening was far from it.
And so, she begins to panic.
“I’m sorry I ever said those things to you. I just didn’t know what to say when you asked and I panicked and it just-“ it’s your turn to cut her off, leaning in and pressing your lips to hers to shut her up. It makes Ellie melt as soon as you do, a soft whine leaving her lips as one of her hands falls down to your waist, wanting you as close as possible.
Your lips work against hers for a moment before you finally pull apart, a soft smile on your lips as you stare into her eyes.
“So you love me, hm?” You tease her, and it makes Ellie whine as she falls back to lay against your pillow, tugging you down with her by your waist as she pulls you to straddle her lower body.
“That’s all you gathered? Here I am confessing my undying love and apologizing at the same time and all you get is one thing” she smirks as she stares up at you, her hands caressing your bare thighs.
“You’re lucky I’m used to your idiotic tendencies…I don’t think anyone would deal with this behavior” you hear her again with a fake pout, which earns a fake groan from her end before she gives your thighs a firm squeeze.
“Good thing it’s you then, hm?” She mumbles out softly, making you giggle before you bend down to attach your lips to hers, wanting nothing more than to enjoy the girl now that feelings had been confessed.
After a moment of your lips against hers, you hear Ellie groan, which makes you frown as you pull away. “Everything okay baby?” You ask softly, only to see that Ellie is pouting childish up at you.
“My throat kinda hurts…”
#ellie williams smut#ellie williams#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x you#ellie tlou#ellie williams x female reader#ellie x y/n#ellie the last of us#ellie x you
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Devotion
Summary: You give yourself to Miguel, and he's about to show you what complete devotion looks and feels like.
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x spider-woman!reader
Word count: 6.5k
18+. Miguel POV. Reader POV. V*rginity loss. Cr*ampie. F*ngering. C*mplay. Org*sm denial. After care. Edg*ng. Br*eding k*nk. Mentions of pregnancy.
Part 1. Previous Part.
Thank you so much to @ancientbeing10 for the help with the Spanish 🩷
Miguel had scooped you up in his arms effortlessly and carried you to his bedroom, slowly placing you on his bed.
He then leaned in to place a kiss to your temple, sending a shiver down your spine.
You tilted your head back, hoping to have his lips on yours once instead.
The truth was that you were absolutely smitten by him. Relationships are often complicated. People are complicated. Miguel was a complex person, and yet, you felt drawn to him.
You could still remember the first time you realised your feelings for him transcended those of a regular friendship.
It had begun with him looking after you in the lab. It had been innocent and fleeting enough, but the heart works in strange ways. The way he was so adamant about you having to take care of yourself awoke in you a feeling that you were seldom presented with:
Affection.
His lips hovered over yours, snapping you from your thoughts, and you brought a hand to the side of his face. "Please kiss me…"
Even through the darkness that engulfed his room, you could still spot a faint smile.
And he did as you requested.
Your back arched nearly instantly, seeking more of him. Even though your body had barely recovered from your orgasm, you felt desire flare inside you at an alarming rate.
He quickly deepened the kiss by parting your lips with his experienced tongue, and you eagerly let him in, moving your hand to the back of his neck, yanking him closer.
Nearly losing balance, Miguel placed both hands on either side of you for support, settling in between your legs.
A moan rose in your throat, and you broke the kiss at the feeling of your clit throbbing, as the underside of his cock settled between your folds.
"We can stop."
You stared into his crimson eyes. "Do you want to stop?"
He pressed a fleeting kiss to the corner of your mouth. "This isn't about me."
Oh.
Desire had clouded your mind, almost making you forget that you were still very much inexperienced. But you still craved the fluidity and eagerness of couples who already knew their way around each other's bodies… with no virginity in the way.
Truth be told, if there was anyone who you'd give yourself to, it would be Miguel O'Hara.
You wouldn't utter these words out of fear of sounding ridiculous at best, and desperate at worst.
"I want more…" you whispered instead, rolling your hips and causing his cock to slide along your clit.
He moaned, but gripped your hip to a halt with strong fingers. "Are you on birth control?"
The question caught you momentarily off guard, and you blinked. "What?"
"If you want to continue… I have to know."
"Yes—Yes, I have an implant."
Hormonal imbalance had been the sole reason, though. Irregular periods accompanied by terrible cramps had taken a toll on you.
Pregnancy had been the farthest thing on your mind.
Miguel groaned lowly before burying his face in your neck, lips caressing your flushed skin, which caused your hips to jolt into him.
He immediately hissed from the sudden friction, and began to match your tempo deliciously slowly.
You bit your lip, not wanting to moan embarrassingly loudly with each slide of his cock against your clit.
He quickly grazed his thumb across your lower lip, releasing it from your teeth's grasp. "Please… let me hear you…"
The plea mixed with his gentle touch was enough to have your mouth part in a whimper.
"Louder."
Your eyes fluttered shut once the tips of his fangs began to poke your skin, and you couldn't hold back the loud moan that erupted from your throat.
Wet sounds and sticky sounds echoed all around you, as you began to drip, adding more and more layers of your own wetness around his cock.
Ambient lights were suddenly switched on, an orange and yellow gradient filling your field of vision.
Miguel brought his lips to your cheek. "Are you sure you want this?"
You sank your fingers into his soft hair, arching your back slightly, your nipple piercings digging into the taut muscles of his chest.
In reality, you were terrified. Miguel seemed to be on the thicker side than what you had expected, and you didn't see yourself taking more than one of his fingers, so his cock definitely overwhelmed you.
Would it hurt? Would he be gentle? Would you even enjoy it?
The preconception that having sex for the first time was a painful ordeal was engraved into your subconscious. Growing up, you had heard some scary recounts of first times from your friends.
But you were still clinging on to the hope that Miguel knew what he was doing.
So you took a deep breath, staring into his eyes. "I'm sure…"
He shifted to press a kiss to your forehead. "You can tell me to stop if it gets too much," he murmured. "And I will."
You had no doubt he would.
But it still made your heart speed up, and an uneasy feeling spread throughout your body rather quickly.
He reached over you to grip one long pillow and eased it under you until your back pressed against it, angling your torso so your eyes could be met with the sight of his cock dripping precum.
Now you understood why he had turned the lights on.
Then, you heard a click and stared as he removed his dimensional travel watch, placing it on his bedside table.
Oh.
Your soaked folds were wrapped snugly around him, and you gasped as you spotted your swollen clit peeking from under his cock.
"Does that feel good?" Miguel asked, voice strained.
You could only stare in complete and utter fascination, as he kept dripping more and more precum, the droplets eventually running down along your folds.
"Yes… you're really…" you paused briefly, completely transfixed with the amount of precum. "Is it normal for you to…"
Miguel's eyes followed your line of sight, and he chuckled upon realising what you meant.
"With you, yes."
His bluntness had your walls clench instinctively around nothing in anticipation.
He then raised his hips and you watched as strings of precum mixed with your wetness dangled from his cock, before he kneeled at your side, slowly dipping the mattress.
You were about to protest at the loss of contact, but he immediately silenced you with a hungry kiss, drawing a couple of whimpers from you.
The taste of him had become so familiar to you by now, that it served to soothe your frustration and impatience.
Your hand tapped around blindly until it found what it was looking for.
Wrapping your fingers tightly around his hard cock, you tugged gently, and Miguel quickly broke the kiss with a delicious hiss. "Fuck…"
The heat pooling between your legs was becoming unbearable and, with each throb of your clit, uncertainty gave way to burning desire.
"Miguel… please…"
He pecked your cheek. "I need you ready for me."
You pouted in response. "I am."
He then brought his lips to your ear, whispering softly, "Can you take more than one of my fingers, then?"
Your heart faltered once you felt one hand trail down from your neck, caressing your hardened nipples, before traveling down until it reached your swollen clit.
"Can you, sweet girl?"
That term of endearment had begun to grow on you, and it almost made you moan out your answer.
"I think… I think so," you said, trying to muster your confidence.
He then pressed a kiss to the pulse point on your neck.
You watched as he traced your clit with his middle finger, coating it in your wetness. The view was hypnotic and you stifled a moan as he rubbed at your entrance once, before plunging the finger inside.
As if seeking an immediate anchor, you gripped his cock tighter, feeling beads of precum steadily spreading across your hand.
"Easy, cariño… not so tight."
This wasn't even considered dirty talking, but it was enough to have you buck your hips against him, and he eased inside easily, burying himself knuckle-deep.
Crimson eyes watched your every reaction attentively, and you gasped as the heel of his palm pressed down on your throbbing clit.
"Tell me how it feels," Miguel cooed, sliding in and out of you at a torturous pace. "I need to know."
You hummed in response, trying your best to ride his finger through throaty whimpers.
He paused abruptly. "Use your words."
You snapped your half-hooded eyes to him. "It feels good… really go-" the word died in your mouth as he began pumping into you once again.
He unclasped your fingers from around his cock. "I know you're eager, but if you keep touching it like that I won't last…"
You were sticking out your lower lip in a silent plea, but decided to bring your precum-soaked hand to your breasts, letting the warm liquid drip onto your nipples, earning an approving growl from Miguel.
"Do you think you can take a second one?" he asked, bending over to swipe his tongue across one nipple. "You set the pace."
The sight of him tasting himself on you was the most erotic thing you had ever experienced, and you immediately nodded, just so you could feel his tongue again.
Suddenly, you felt a second digit probing at your entrance, and you couldn't keep your chest from heaving rapidly at the stretch.
Miguel shifted closer to you, catching your eyes in his. "Relax, cariño… you're doing great."
You tried. You really did try to stop your walls from tightening around his fingers, but your body was moving involuntarily at the sudden intrusion.
He placed a reassuring kiss on your cheek. "Nearly there…"
A raspy whimper parted your lips and you allowed yourself to relax ever so slightly, until he was buried as deep as he could.
The discomfort of the stretch turned into impatience, and you rolled your hips, seeking more and more friction.
"More…" you mumbled desperately.
Your eyes dropped to the mesmerising motion of both fingers sliding in and out, glistening with your wetness, as your swollen clit peeked from between your folds.
Wet sounds filled your ears and your head fell back once his palm pressed against your clit. Miguel immediately took advantage of this angle, and had his lips on your neck, sacking gently.
The familiar coil in your lower abdomen warned you that you were nearing the point of no return. The delicious friction mixed with his thick fingers fucking you at a steady pace.
"You're so close…"
You bit down on your lip so hard you feared drawing blood. At this point, you didn't trust yourself to utter any words, and chose to lose yourself in the blissful moment.
Miguel took your hand in his and had your fingers wrap around his cock once again with a hiss. He was so thick and hard and warm and leaking so for you.
"Let me fuck your hand…" he growled into your neck, snapping his hips. "Just… squeeze harder…"
You eagerly gripped him tighter, feeling strings of precum sliding down your wrists as he matched his hips with the tempo of his fingers inside you.
"Miguel… Miguel…" you managed to moan as you neared the precipice.
His lips were on yours all of a sudden, and you crumbled under his touch, whimpering into his mouth as his tongue found yours.
You were so close.
So deliciously close.
"You’re doing so good," he praised you over and over again.
Your back arched reflexively as the blissful turbulence of an orgasm began to wash over you.
And then, it was gone.
Your peak never came and your moans immediately died in your throat.
Confusion took a violent hold on you, as you slumped into the pillow and mattress underneath you.
Miguel had removed himself from you entirely, and you were left clenching around nothing, mourning the loss of his touch.
"Miguel…why?!" you protested, as you felt tears prickling the corners of your eyes.
You dropped your hand from his cock to grip the sheets, hoping to rein in your frustration in between sobs.
"I'm sorry," he said, sounding truthfully. "I want you to come around my cock, cariño…" he added, before kissing your quivering lips.
You wanted to be mad at him for denying you of your pleasure, but he managed to gain a nod from you instead.
The mattress dipped around you and even through closed eyes, you could tell he was positioned right between your legs.
He then brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting you. You felt slightly taken aback, not expecting him to do this.
"You taste really good."
You laughed nervously. "I do?"
His lips tugged upwards. "Don't take my word for it, then."
He brought two glistening digits to your lips and you immediately took them in, savouring yourself on him.
You sucked on him for a moment, enjoying how he looked so smitten by it.
He pressed your tongue flat with his fingers, before sliding out, saliva dangling from the tips.
"You're so hot."
That compliment threw you for a loop, and you immediately looked away, not quite feeling like you deserved it.
He cradled your face with his hands. "Look at me."
Slowly, but surely, your eyes met his as you tried to even out your laboured breaths.
"You are. You are beautiful."
Your heart clenched and you were left speechless at how genuine he sounded.
You felt like you could cry from this. You didn't cry easily, but his words always found a way to tug at your heartstrings like no one had ever managed to.
He craned his neck to press a soft kiss to your wet lips, and you felt his cock resting against your throbbing clit.
"Are you sure of this?"
"I am. Please, Miguel…"
He caressed your cheeks with his thumbs. "I'm not going to last long," he whispered softly. "But neither are you."
The jab at your stolen orgasm had you pouting at him.
He groaned in response. "Try to relax as much as you can, okay?"
You swallowed hard with a determined nod. "Okay."
You felt his cock slide along your soaked folds, grazing your clit, before you felt a small pressure at your opening.
Instinctively, you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the pain and discomfort.
But Miguel kept his hold on your face with one hand. "Please look at me…"
You took a deep breath and mustered the strength to stare into his crimson eyes.
"I've got you," he promised, brushing his knuckles across your heated cheek.
And you believe him.
Even when you felt the tip being pushed slowly into you, your breath caught. Your gaze faltered and your mouth fell open in a strained gasp. You felt his other hand press flat against your thighs, and you spread your legs as much as possible, hoping it would be enough to ease him in.
"Breathe…"
You slowly let out a shaky breath, realising he had stopped.
"Are you okay?"
No.
You wanted to be, but you could feel yourself tense up and you brought your hands to claw at his back, feeling the muscles underneath his skin flex as he adjusted himself.
But you still nodded. You wanted to be done with this. First times can be tricky, but you would have to keep your fear of pain at bay until the worst had come and come.
He pushed his hips into you again, and the stretch had you holding your breath again, as a sharp sting tore through your entire body.
You didn't dare breathe.
Your chest became so tight it ached, and you felt the familiar tension in your eyes, as the first tears began to blur your vision.
"Stop… please…" you begged, tapping on his back.
He immediately halted, his face softening. "Do you want me to pull out?"
You shook your head, the motion causing one tear to slide down from the corner of your eye. He captured it with his lips, a silent reassurance that he would take care of you.
Deep down, you feared he might be turned off by your hesitancy. You were sure he wanted to go deeper and faster, but the discomfort was gripping you hard.
"How much…" you sobbed, staring down at the length of your body to find where the two of you were connected. "... is it almost there?"
Miguel smiled warmly at you. "Nearly there, sweet girl."
Your lungs expanded with a deep inhale and you sighed through your nose. "Go…"
You dug your nails into his skin as he slid deeper inside, drawing a sharp gasp from you. This time, you had to bite down on your lip again, feeling Miguel's unwavering stare on your face.
"Tell me to stop, and I will."
But you didn't want him to stop. Not now. Not when you were so close to being filled to the brim with him. No amount of pain or discomfort would take that away from you now.
He was being so gentle and caring, assuring that you were the priority here.
And you wanted this to be on equal grounds, soon.
His pleasure would be yours.
Your pleasure would be his.
He was kissing every single tear away, whispering praises, and you knew he was fully buried inside, once he stopped moving again.
This time, you felt him shudder under your touch, breath coming out in shallow pants.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice raspy and shaky.
"Yes."
You would be soon.
The pain hadn't been as bad as you had expected and once you began to relax, you could feel the remnants of it slowly fading.
The two of you remained still for a few more seconds, with only the erratic breathing keeping you company.
"I'm not going to last long," he confessed, burying his face in the curve of your neck. "Can you relax a bit more?"
You tried to drain the tension from your muscles, and you immediately felt his cock twitching inside you.
He was so deep...
"Please move," you asked, ready for what was to come.
Miguel inhaled sharply, and you felt him drag it out slowly, earning a few pained whimpers from how thick he was.
Before you could take a deep breath, he slammed slowly into you.
Your clit was swelling up again and you knew he had bottomed out again when you felt his balls press into you.
But you needed more. You needed to feel more.
"Can you go faster…"
He dragged his fangs along your shoulder. "I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't. Please…" you begged.
Miguel set a slow pace at first, and you heard the wet sounds of your pussy clenching around him, which had him groan with each thrust.
Your gaze was on how his cock reappeared only to disappear back inside you, visibly struggling to move past your tightness.
"So good… fuck…así… no pares," you heard him mumble mindlessly each time he pushed all the way back into you.
You managed to snake one hand in between your bodies, and you immediately gasped as the tips of your fingers slid past your clit only to finally touch his slippery cock.
His pace quickened slightly, and he removed your hand with his, pressing down on your pulsing clit.
"Just… just like that…" you whimpered breathlessly.
You arched into him, your pierced nipples digging into his chest, and he suddenly stilled.
"I need you to come first," he rasped, drawing circles around your clit. "Please… please…"
There was something incredibly riveting about having Miguel O'Hara begging. Such a strong and serious man, was now on top of you, completely taken by how you milked his cock, and how close he was
His thumb left your clit, and he pulled his torso away from you and moved back, pressing your legs together with both hands and pushing your knees into your chest.
The new position nearly pushed you over the edge, as your walls pressed further around his cock. His thumb was on your clit in an instant, and you moaned and whimpered, gripping the sheets with both hands, holding on for dear life, as he skilfully brought you closer and closer to the edge.
"Come for me… clench around me, cariño," he urged desperately.
You heard the sound of fabric tear as your grip tightened around the bedsheets, plunging you into a blinding orgasm. Your vision blurred and you arched your back, feeling rhythmic contractions ripple across your walls, gripping his cock hard.
As your chest heaved rapidly with a rush of adrenaline, you felt him slam into you only twice before reaching his own peak.
"Mierda, te sientes tan bien… carajo," he mumbled in between groans, as he buried himself as deep as possible, finally spilling himself inside.
Even through the numbness of your orgasm, you could feel his cock twitching inside you, filling you with a burst of warmth.
Beads of sweat poured from your skin, and you felt completely spent by the time he finally slid out of you. A whimper escaped your lips once he was fully out, and your walls involuntarily clenched.
You felt him slide his cock along your folds a few times, the added friction on your oversensitive clit making your jolt.
He released his hold on your legs, and you let them flop down, feeling something beginning to seep out of you.
"Wait here," he said as he slid out of bed and pressing a sloppy kiss on your parted lips.
You remained still for a few seconds, before curiosity got the best of you, prompting you to slide your band in between your legs.
A warm liquid began to coat your fingers and you propped yourself on one elbow, watching in awe as your clit and folds were covered in his cum.
You dragged a small quantity from your entrance and brought it to your lips, eager to finally taste it.
Its saltiness and warmth invaded your mouth and collected it with your tongue, slowly swallowing all of it.
"Does it taste good?"
Your eyes widened slightly as you found Miguel standing next to you, fully naked. He was a complete marvel of muscle and beauty, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks as his burning gaze bore into you.
He had a towel in his hand, and slowly kneeled on the floor, tapping his finger to your jaw to have you fully face him.
Miguel was so very handsome. It was almost criminal. Sweat-damp strands of thick hair covered his forehead and you brought your free hand to brush some of them aside.
"Does it taste good, cariño?"
You smiled innocently, removing your fingers from your mouth. "You can taste it yourself."
Miguel's lips met yours and his tongue slipped past them hungrily. Your eyes fluttered shut and you pushed some of his cum with your tongue into his.
He eventually broke the kiss and you felt the soft fabric of the towel being softly pressed to your forehead.
Some drops of cum coated his gorgeous lips and you found yourself unable to look away from his face.
"Let me take care of you."
Affection and devotion.
You nodded as exhaustion slowly weighed down your body.
His lips curled into a faint smile and you mimicked him. "What?"
"You're so… perfect," he drawled out, sliding the towel down the side of your face and neck.
You giggled. "Is this a post-sex thing?"
He arched an eyebrow, looking very serious all of a sudden. "You're doubting me?"
Your smile faded slowly. "Oh, I just… I… don't think I'm perfect. No one is."
Miguel pressed his lips together, his gaze shifting to your breasts as he continued to pat the sweat away.
"You are to me," he mumbled.
You had heard so much about love over the years, and thought Tom had been the personification of it in your life. Even after what had happened between you two, you never doubted he was the one who had gotten away.
But now?
You weren't so sure anymore.
And it wasn't because Miguel was so easy to offer you compliments and praises. That was easy to do. It was much harder to be stricter with those one cared about, and Miguel didn't hold back from grounding you when you needed the most.
After all, he managed to get a hold of your heart with the way he took care of you.
Just like he was doing so now.
He reached in between your legs, and you jolted from the surprise.
"Was I too rough?" he asked, uncertainty dripping from his low voice.
You shook your head. "You were perfect."
His crimson eyes met yours and you smiled warmly, allowing him to clean the cum mixed with your own wetness.
"You said no one is perfect."
"I'll make an exception for you," you said, feeling your eyelids grow heavier and heavier.
He leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek, and your vision darkened as your breathing steadied. You faintly felt more cum drip out, which Miguel quickly wiped, and vaguely wondered how much was still left inside you.
But your thoughts were cut off by your drowsiness, feeling exhausted and as you lay limp on the mattress.
You were almost dozing off when you heard his voice. "Want to take a shower?"
A grumble left your throat. "Later… I'm so tired."
"I'll carry you."
For the second time that night, Miguel took you in his arms with little to no effort, and sauntered into his bathroom, occasionally pressing loving kisses to your face.
You had looped your arms around his neck for support and groaned lightly as he stepped into the shower, tepid water hitting your skin gently.
"Can you stand?"
"Yes, yes…" you said, fighting through a yawn and landing on your feet and easing your hold around him.
Miguel silently washed your back witj both hands, and you were able to feel more cum drip from inside you, blending in with the running water.
You pressed your forehead to the tile as he moved the wet piece of cloth in between your legs, and you flinched away.
"Did I hurt you?"
"It's just a bit sore…" you breathed out, reaching down to touch your numb clit. "It's fine… don't worry."
You then turned around to face him and tip-toed to place a wet kiss to his jaw.
Adoration didn't even begin to cover how you felt about this man.
Maybe he would be your first 'I love you'.
Maybe.
- 2 months later -
Miguel shot his laser-like string of web to the side wall of glass that led to his apartment.
The window was open, and he smiled to himself.
You were home.
He flung himself upwards, the opening presenting itself as the perfect entryway, and he swung through it, landing gracefully on the tiled floor.
His digital mask vanished, and he ran a hand through unruly hair.
Immediately, his senses were hit with the familiar smell of freshly cooked empanadas, and he immediately smiled as you entered the kitchen, specks of flour resting on your cheeks.
"Hey, you," you greeted sweetly.
"Hey."
He closed the gap between you two in an instant, taking your face in his hands.
"Are these empanadas all for myself?"
Your eyes fell to his lips. "Depends."
He dusted off some of the flour with his thumb, raising an eyebrow. "On what?"
"Payment."
"Oh, really?"
You hummed, bringing your lips so close to his, he could feel your breath fanning them lightly.
"What sort of payment, sweet girl?"
He could almost taste you, and his heart jolted in his chest.
It seemed that he was doomed to having your presence have this permanent effect on him. No matter how much time passed, he could not get accustomed to the hold you had on him
"One kiss."
He quickly complied, tasting your sweetness.
You were quick to break the kiss, however. "And… promise you won't be upset."
At this, he felt a faint scowl settle on his face. "What did you do?"
The reply to his question came in the form of Peter B. Parker waltzing into the kitchen, with an empanada stuffed in his mouth.
He waved and tried to speak, but his voice only came out muffled and intelligible.
Miguel's scowl deepened and he glared at you, earning an innocent shrug.
"Peter and MJ are visiting, and I thought it would be nice to invite them over," you said endearingly, offering him a napkin.
Peter beamed. "Thank you! And Miguel… not a surprise to see you here," he added, wiggling his eyebrows.
"What is that supposed to mean?" he grumbled.
MJ walked in with Mayday clinging to her shoulder. "Hey, Miguel!"
He inwary winced, already anticipating an upcoming headache. In all honesty, he just wanted to spend some time with you after arriving from a mission, and now…
"MJ," he greeted flatly, before patting Mayday on the head, her curls bouncing lightly.
She stuck out her tongue in response before breaking into laughter.
"He's not even using doors anymore, Peter," MJ started with a devious smile. "It's serious."
Peter nodded, taking Mayday into his hands. "Definitely serious."
Miguel's scowl deepened further and he watched as you laughed nervously.
The two of you hadn't told anyone about your relationship. Miguel would rather keep it that way.
Why?
Because this was the result, and it annoyed him to no end.
"Oh, wipe that frown off your face, Miguel O'Hara," MJ scolded. "Everyone knows about you two, already."
"What?"
Peter quickly brought Mayday to him. "Here, hold her. It will calm you down!"
Miguel reflexively took her in his arms, but kept his gaze on MJ. "What do you mean?"
She rolled her eyes, joining your side, as you began to clean off the counter. "All the missions together… always coming in together… spending time at the lab," she continued, listing off everything with each finger. "Peter and Jessica told me all about it."
Anger flared inside him briefly, but it quickly plummeted as defeat took over.
"Just a coincidence."
MJ shrugged. "Sure."
Mayday sat on his shoulder, tugging gently at a few strands of his hair, giggling. He winced in pain and removed her from him in an instant, holding her far away from him.
You turned to him and moved to grab her from his grip, pressing her adoringly against your chest. "Don't worry, Mayday. He's just a little bit grumpy, but he's a cutie, too!"
His scowl softened at the sight of Mayday melting into your touch.
You really were a natural at this...
"You're the cutest, though," you whispered in her ear, and she immediately gave you an ear-to-ear grin.
MJ was glaring intensely at him with a knowing smile, and he cleared his throat.
The last thing he needed was them realising how he yearned to be a father, with you carrying his children.
"You're so good with Mayday," Peter praised, stealing another empanada from the plate, and earning a death glare from Miguel who considered hiding them away. "Imagine Mayday and Jessica's kid having another friend to play with!"
Your eyes widened lightly. "Oh! I… I think…"
Miguel wanted to catapult Peter through the window, but he wouldn't do so in front of his wife and child. He always found a way to be inconvenient, and even though Miguel agreed with him on this, he couldn't let it show.
Out of spite.
MJ motioned for him to cut it off, and the two of them walked out, leaving a babbling MJ with you.
You chuckled. "They're good fun, right?"
No.
But he wouldn't dispute that with you, because this was what you did. You adored making people around you feel included and your love language definitely spoke louder.
As you rocked Mayday against your chest, lulling her into a peaceful silence.
"Actually, I have something for you," you whispered with a smile.
Miguel's brow quirked again. "Please don't tell me Hobie Brown is about to burst through the ceiling."
His remark caused you to stifle a giggle. "No, but he might pop up later today."
Miguel's face hardened again.
"I'm kidding, Mr. Grumpy," you said, pointing to an envelope on the table. "Open it."
He glared suspiciously at you before shifting his attention to the piece of paper. Once he unsealed it, he peered closely at what was inside.
A small plastic rod.
His eyes widened and his lips parted.
That was…
"Yeah. I had my implant removed," you said, standing close to him. "The spider-doctor told me to wait out for my next cycle, but…" You began rubbing Mayday's back as she dozed off with a yawn. "Pregnancy can happen earlier than that if we try…"
Miguel was too perplexed to say anything.
You were indeed aware of his breeding kink, and he would gladly give you as much time as you needed. Even if you ended up deciding not wanting to have children, he would be more than fine with that decision.
He was too in love with you to push you beyond your comfort zone.
And yet… here you were, willingly fulfilling his wishes.
"Say something," you said, nudging his arm with yours.
He swallowed, finally meeting your eyes. "You didn't have to…"
You nodded. "But I want to, Miguel. And I know you want it, too."
There was no denying it. The past few months had been torturous at times. Each time he fucked you raw and spilled inside you, knowing fully well nothing would come of it. Witnessing his seed going to waste would torment him.
He pressed his hand to your head and pulled you against him, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Te amo."
You lifted your head to stare at him. "I love you, too."
- A couple of weeks later -
Miguel stormed into the lab later that afternoon, needing a refill of his serum.
But he didn't expect to see you still there, sitting on a chair, and tapping at the screen in front of you.
"What happened?"
Your head turned and he was met with tired eyes. "Oh, I was wondering if you could draw some blood."
Alarm bells chimed inside his head right away and he was quickly in front of you, scanning your face for any signs of distress.
"I'm okay, Miguel," you assured him with a faint curl of your lips. "Just want to check something."
You sounded off.
So he quickly gathered what he needed to comply with your request, always eyeing you from the corner of his eye.
He came to sit next to you and motioned his fingers so you'd lay out your arm for him.
"Did something happen?" he pressed again, pulling the sleeve of your lab coat upwards.
You shook your head, gaze dropping to his hands.
He wasn't convinced in the slightest, but decided to give you some space, offering a respectful silence.
Hi fingers tapped your skin, tied a latex glove just above your elbow as a tournique, seeking a bulging vein.
"It's funny…" you said with a sigh.
Miguel lifted his eyes briefly, finding yours staring right back at him. "What is?"
The faintest tug at the corner of your lips had him relax slightly.
"The first time I met you… you also drew my blood for testing," you said, and your tone told him you held the memory of it fondly. "And now, here we are again."
"Under different circumstances, I'm sure."
"Better ones."
He was unsure of what you meant by that, so he dropped his eyes to your arm again. Once he found what he was looking for, he punctured the soft barrier of skin, watching as the vial in between his fingers filled with liquid.
As he withdrew from you and pressed a pad to the wound, a weird feeling began to loom over him.
Could it be that...
He eyed you curiously, hoping for you to confirm his suspicions, but you remained silent.
"Apply some pressure," he asked, and you nodded, your fingers replacing his.
Scooting over to the analysis machine, he placed the vial inside and watched the liquid being sucked inside.
"Why do you need your blood tested?"
You shrugged, but he could sense you were holding something back.
By the time the first results began to appear on the hovering screen, he scanned them, looking for an outlier.
It didn't take long for it to show up.
Miguel's heart lurched as the confirmation hit him, and he checked it twice, but there was no mistake.
< hCG (mIU/ml) - 145 >
The human chorionic gonadotropin was colloquially referred to as the pregnancy hormone, and its level could inform how far along a pregnancy was.
This value had Miguel guess you were around three weeks.
"Why didn’t you tell me right away?" he managed to ask, swallowing the lump in his throat.
He felt you looping your arm around his, resting your head on it. "I figured it would be more romantic than peeing on a stick and showing it to you," you chuckled softly.
In all honesty, he wouldn't care either way.
How could he?
In front of him was the proof that the bond he shared with you was now bearing fruit.
"... besides… this is your field, right? Genetics," you said, tightening your grip around him. "It felt right for you to find out this way."
Miguel felt overwhelmed all of a sudden, upon realising just how you never missed anything. Down to the last detail. Everything you did always held a purpose, no matter how insignificant it might seem at first.
"I…"
You shifted until you were in front of him, and quickly laced your arms around his waist, placing your chin on his broad chest, eyeing him with absolute adoration. "Come on, Miguel… don't tell me you're surprised it happened so quickly."
He truly wasn't.
He had bred you over and over again over the past few weeks, always making sure you would lay still after each time, a pillow under you, not allowing any cum from going to waste.
You had protested at first, but he excelled at providing after care, and those sessions soon turned into opportunities at exploring your intimacy to the point you were eager to be filled over and over again.
His sweet girl…
"I think I love you," he blurted out, immediately realising how ridiculous he sounded.
Your chuckle reverberated across his skin. "You think? I hope you're more sure than that. There's no turning back now."
His arms circled you, pulling you into a tighter embrace as his gaze met yours. "Thank you."
You quirked an eyebrow. "For what?"
"Everything."
Author's note: Thank you so much to everyone who has been with this story from beginning to end. It means a lot. I hope you were able to connect with these characters in one way or another 🩷 I will be missing Miguel and sweet girl so much... this story wouldn't be anything without your vital support, and I will forever be grateful! Ruby~
Masterlist
#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel o’hara imagine#answered ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾
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Breakfast
Husband!Joel Miller (no outbreak) x afab!Reader
Summary: Your usual Saturday morning routine with your husband takes a turn, for the better.
W/C: supposed to be 1k as per my celebration rules, but... it is now 2k... Oops... I’m sure y’all don’t mind😚.
18+ MDNI: Implied age gap (8 years per request hehe<3). Feminine pet names. Oral sex (reader recieving). Implied domesticity kink. Slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms. Soft Dom!Joel. Dom/sub undertones. Joel being a check-in king (safe word system in action, we love good communication). P in V unprotected. Breeding kink (y'all should expect this from me from now on LOL). ONE (1) USE OF "DADDY" (I had to, I'm not sorry). Sweet sweet aftercare.
A/N: This is in response to this request made by @survivingandenduring for my 1k follower milestone celebration. I remember you being one of the first to accompany me on my journey, and now that we're here together celebrating something I'm so humbly honored to experience, it feels so surreal. I love and appreciate your existence so so very much. Thank you.💚 I hope y'all enjoy!! (Pics for aesthetic purposes only)
MASTERLIST || L'S 1K CELEBRATION
Saturday mornings are your favorite. They’re lazy. They’re warm. They’re spent wrapped completely in the arms of your husband, Joel Miller. Whether it’s your lips or your limbs tangled in between the sheets—Saturday mornings are for you and him.
So when you woke up this morning to the other half of your bed colder than usual, you woke up with a frown. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you pull yourself to the restroom to brush your teeth and wash your face, not bothering to change out of your sleep clothes since you made Joel promise you that you guys weren’t going anywhere today.
“Darlin’?” His Southern twang calls out.
“In the bathroom, baby,” you respond, rubbing in the last of your face cream.
With a soft knock to your door, he’s entering, a crooked grin at the sight of you. You can’t help the grin that breaks across your face—no matter how long you two have been married, the bashfulness of two teenagers crushing on each other will never go away.
“Good mornin’, beautiful,” his gruff voice rasps, walking up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, his lips ghosting the sweet spot below your ear.
“Good morning, handsome,” you reply, leaning your body into his large, warm form.
“Come back to bed,” he whispers, his face burying itself deeper into the crook of your neck.
“Where’d you go?” You ask, not particularly liking the fact that you didn’t wake up with him this morning.
Joel turns you in his hold so you’re facing him now. “I’m sorry, my love, I thought I’d be quicker than I was,” he tells you, catching the tone of disappointment in your voice. “I went to make you some breakfast,” he admits. “Nothin’ fancy, I just- I wanted you to eat.”
You narrow your eyes at him, flashing him a small smirk. “What’s your motive, Miller?”
“Uh-” he stutters, not expecting that from you. “No motive, baby. What, a man can’t make sure his lady eats?” An exaggerated offensiveness evident in his inflection as he speaks.
“Please,” you giggle. “Every Saturday, like clockwork, I either wake up with your tongue, cock, or fingers inside of me,” you state matter-of-factly. “Why breakfast now?” you ask, your eyebrow quirked up, his signature look. You cross your arms over your chest for good measure.
Damn, you’re good. And damn, he’s so fucking in awe of you. “Fine,” he relents. “The last few times… after we’re done… you get super jittery and lightheaded. Like your blood sugar is low or somethin’. I dunno, I just, I don’t wanna be pulling so much energy from you, especially on an empty stomach.”
Your jaw would be on the floor right now if it wasn’t attached to you. Oh. My. God. You knew what you were getting into, marrying a Southern gentleman and an older one at that; and you knew just how considerate a lover Joel Miller was, but it never fails to leave your heart—and your pussy—fluttering at how attentive your man is. You are so damn lucky.
Going back to the room and settling on the bed, Joel climbs up beside you and feeds you your breakfast—one of your absolute favorite combos: a greek vanilla yogurt, your favorite granola, and chopped up fresh strawberries. You make this almost every morning, but something about him making it just makes it taste a thousand times better—leaving your body energized for what was next to come… because shit, did you need it.
“Joel,” you sob, tears falling from your eyes as they fight to stay open.
He lifts himself off your cunt, bottom half of his face shiny with your arousal. “Gimme one more, darlin’, then I’ll give you my cock,” he tells you, his heavy breath fanning across your spent center.
“Joel, I-” you whimper, “I can’t.” Your hips bucking into his face says otherwise. He taps your hip three times. Safe word? He silently asks. One tap for green, two taps for a yellow, three taps for red—an immediate stop. Your hand nearly ripping his curls out of his head softens, tapping his neck once as you attempt to gain your breath back, soft whines blessing his ears.
He nips the inside of your thigh before he speaks again. “You can,” and then he’s diving back in, tongue breaching your entrance as his nose rubs perfectly at your clit, hurtling you towards your third orgasm of the morning.
“Oh, fuck-” you nearly scream, head pushing into your pillow with your eyes clamped shut, back arching off the bed. Joel throws his arm across your lower belly, keeping you down and open for him as he licks you through your high.
Finally, he relents with a satisfied smile, placing a chaste kiss to your clit. “Knew you could give me another, my darlin’ girl.”
“Mmm, baby, please,” you say, reaching for his jaw to bring his face to yours. Not yielding to your touch completely, he brings himself up slow—the tip of his nose dragging up your naked body, Joel placing open-mouthed kisses up your belly, up your sternum, all the way to your lips, your arousal lingering with his own flavors in a deep, needy kiss.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he says into your lips, nipping your swollen lip before pulling away to let you speak.
“N-need you,” you breathe, desperate. You bring your hands down to his boxer-clad bulge, your fingers causing him to twitch.
Joel tuts, pulling your hand away and bringing it up to the side of your head, his large hand holding it down. “And I need you,” he says, biting your lip again, “to use your words, baby. C’mon,” he urges. Outside of the bedroom, you are very outspoken—this morning’s interaction as evidence—yet, when you find yourself a writhing, moaning mess underneath him, all words are stolen from your brain, all the breath is stolen from your lungs.
“Please,” you start, more determination this time. “I need you inside me, Joel, please fuck me.” You hike your legs higher up, your thighs hugging his waist as you shift your hips, your wet center rubbing against him.
“Such a good girl f’me,” he praises, sitting up to guide his boxers down, leaving you with a complete unobstructed view of his tanned and toned naked body, his soft tummy turning the pupils of your eyes into hearts. He’s so fucking sexy, and, well fuck, you just said that out loud.
Joel blushes, leaning back over you to kiss your forehead and your lips before he’s lining himself up with you, his sensitive tip breaching your entrance at a slow pace, his girth thick enough to stretch you every single time in all your years of marriage.
Your eyes slowly shut as he kisses at your neck. The depth he’s able to reach as he slowly pumps in and out of you, the pubic hairs at his base rubbing against your clit, his deep groans making butterflies erupt in your belly—everything is utterly consuming your body, forcing your already sensitive body to your fourth orgasm of the morning fairly quickly.
Joel is rocking at a steady pace, one hand underneath your lower back while his other cups the back of your head, his fingers rooting themselves into the base of your hair and applying a slight pressure, knowing the sensation drives you absolutely wild. The moan that floats through the air is enough for Joel’s cock to twitch inside of you, threatening to release at any moment. With all his strength, he lifts his head up from your neck to hover above your own, reveling in the furrow of your brows and the needy gasps coming from your throat.
“Darlin’,” he rasps.
“Mhm,” you squeak, unable to form any words.
“Look at me,” he tells you, hips speeding up. He knows he’s only making it harder for you.
Your eyes slowly peel open, but your eyes immediately roll back, the pleasure making your mind go numb.
At your action, Joel is slowing, his hips coming to a near halt. That gets your eyes open. “J-Joel? Baby?” you call, your voice quivering with frustration. You were getting close.
“Need those pretty eyes on me, darlin’,” he explains, his hips only starting back up because of your eye contact.
“Y-yes, baby, okay,” you reply shakily, wanting to do anything for him to continue.
He moves in and out of you again, incorporating a delicious slow grind with every push in. The pleasure is too fucking much, and your eyelids are slipping again even though you’re trying with every ounce of your strength to keep your gaze fixed on him, you fail.
Again, his hips come to a painful stop. “Darlin’,” he warns. “You stop, I stop.”
“I-” you cry. “Joel, I can’t.” Tears pool at your waterline.
His hand comes to your face, his thumb catching the runaway tear. “You can, baby, and you will.” It isn’t a request.
You wrap your arms around his neck, keeping Joel as close to you as possible, his breathing keeping you grounded as you attempt to keep your eyes on his. Satisfied with your attempt so far, Joel starts moving, and this time, he completely lets go. Thrusting into you not too fast or not too slow—and he’s going hard, every push would make you slide slightly up the bed if he weren’t holding onto you the way that he is.
Your eyes flutter, not shutting completely but not staying open, and Joel makes a warning sound, his mouth spewing filth to keep you focused on him.
“Need to see those pretty eyes while you flutter ‘round me.”
“Don’t you wanna be filled? I know you want it—crave it.”
“Keep them eyes on me, babygirl. I’ll give you what you want, just lemme see you.”
“Fuck, Joel, please-!” you scream, your hips thrusting on their own accord, your climax shattering throughout your entire body.
“Thaaat’s it, baby, atta girl,” he moans out, the sensation of you sending his eyes nearly to the back of his head. “Fuckin- give it to me, baby, just like that.”
“Sh- shit, baby, fuck-” you cry, “please, Joel, please.”
“Please what, baby? Use your words,” Joel rushes, chasing his own release as he pushes you through yours.
“Please- please cum inside me, daddy, fuck- needa feel you,” you sob, your fingers gripping onto his back muscles, leaving bright red scratches in their wake as he rails you into the mattress.
“Yeah, baby? I’ll- oh, fuck-” he whines, his balls pull taut, his tummy muscles clenching, and within seconds, he’s cumming inside you, the sticky warmth covering every inch inside of you, leaking out of your entrance as he continues his movements, slowing himself down to a stop.
You two lay there for a moment, your chests heaving against each other. Joel places a kiss to your nose, then your lips, then he’s lifting himself off you, heading to the bathroom. You hear him start a bath.
He comes back after a minute, guiding you to sit up and make your way to the bathroom. He kisses your shoulder. “You alright, darlin’?”
You nod your head yes, a content smile across your features, eyelids heavy. He pulls your chin between his thumb and his forefinger, making you look at him. His signature scowl, the playful version, is on his face. Those damn words, baby, he’s telling you.
“I’m more than alright, baby,” you finally verbalize. “I love you.”
“I love you more, baby,” he kisses your cheek. “My darlin’ girl,” another kiss to your forehead. “My beautiful wife,” your other cheek. He continues on like that until he’s peppered your face in kisses, consuming your body with a love quite like no other. You’re a giggling mess by the time it’s over, begging for him to give you a second to breathe.
Only then when you two settle against each other in the warm, bubbly water, does he ask his burning question.
“Did, uh… did the breakfast help you?”
You take a moment to register how your body feels. It feels light. Not light as in lightheaded or weak—like previous weekends. No, you feel light, warm, content—you feel energized, like you can take on the world right now despite the fact that your legs are still made of jello. You feel good.
“Yeah,” you say. “Helped a lot.”
“Good,” he replies in success, kissing the top of your head before he starts massaging every part of you he can reach.
End note -
I love you, you beautiful humans 🫶🏼
Also, please check out the links highlighted in red on my pinned post to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help 🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.
divider in middle of fic made by me, vine graphic at top & bottom made my @/saradika-graphics
@pedrostories
#L's 1k follower celebration#endless thoughts fics#pedro pascal#pedrohub#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal smut#smut#pedrostories#drabble#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel x reader#joel miller fluff#joel miller one shot#joel miller x female reader#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#tlou smut
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spencer reid waking up the next morning and reader's chest is cOVERED in hickies/bruises and he is freaked out and is so sorry that he hurt reader, and she has to talk him off a ledge bc she just bruises easily? thank you!
Thanks for requesting!
Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 728 words
Spencer’s wanted to get you like this forever. In his apartment, in his bed, with the pale morning light washing over your features. Your face is all smoothed out, placid and pretty against his pillowcase. Your eyelids twitch as you dream. Spencer’s never put as much stock into dreams as some other psychologists, but he really wants to know what you dream about. He hopes you remember enough to tell him.
You stir a bit, rolling onto your back and letting the covers slip down from where you’ve been holding them tucked them underneath your chin. Spencer’s chest warms at the sleepy movement, but he pauses at the mark that’s revealed just above your collarbone. The bruise is stark and angry in the early sunlight, red turning to purple. Spencer’s heart contracts. Is that from him? He doesn’t remember treating you so cruelly.
He holds his breath, brushing gently over the spot with his forefinger. It has to hurt. How could he have done something like this without knowing? He remembers kissing you there, sucking a little, but nothing that would leave a mark like this.
You shift at the touch, and the sheet falls another few inches. Two more, one on your shoulder and another just below the first. Spencer sucks in a breath.
You hum and roll towards him, eyelids peeling open. “Spence?”
Spencer’s working the sheet out from under your arm, trying to get another look at the bruises. Trying to prove to himself that he did actually see them.
“Spence,” you say again, groggily. “What’re you doing?”
“Sorry I—” He lets the sheet go, trying to collect himself. “I just—I saw the hickeys, from last night, and I—”
“Oh, are they bad?” You push yourself upright, letting the sheet fall away completely.
Spencer is aghast. He’s lost for words. He needs to be thrown into federal prison.
Bruises cover your chest. Your collarbones, your breasts, the undersides of your breasts, your shoulders—all of it. Spencer doesn’t recall marking you up so thoroughly. He hardly recalls kissing you in half these places.
“Oh my god.” He looks at your eyes, repentant. “Sweetheart, I had no idea I was being this rough with you. I’m so sorry.”
“Spence,” you laugh. “It’s okay.”
“You should have said something if I was hurting you. I never want to do anything like—”
“Hey,” you cut him off, and you’re still smiling, which he thinks is really rather inappropriate. He’s desecrated you. “It didn’t hurt, okay? I was fine, and I’m still fine. I just bruise really easily.”
Spencer feels his eyebrows bunch disbelievingly. “This easily? These look like they could have been done with a pellet gun.”
You shrug, looking a bit bashful as you pull your shoulders up around you. He’s willing to bet you’re fighting the urge to cover yourself with the sheet.
He covers one of the marks on your shoulder with his thumb, watching your face carefully. “Does this hurt?” he asks, pressing on it gently.
Your eyelashes don’t so much as flicker. “No,” you say honestly.
Spencer feels like his chest might collapse in relief. “Jesus. That really scared me,” he admits.
Your lips twitch. “Yeah, I could tell. Sorry for freaking you out.”
“Sorry for defacing you,” he responds, pressing an especially gentle kiss to the side of your neck. “And for waking you up with my freak out.”
You let your smile bloom, bright and endearingly kind. “I don’t mind,” you say.
Spencer analyzes you, contemplative. “You know, that sort of bruising could be caused by an iron deficiency. Or a lack of vitamin C.”
“Mhm?” You’re completely uninterested, leaning forwards to kiss his chin. You nose at the stubble on his cheek.
“How would you feel about having some spinach in your eggs?”
You sit back. “You’re going to make me eggs?”
“Well,” Spencer smiles sheepishly, “first we have to go to the store for spinach and eggs, and then yes. If you want, I’d be happy to make you eggs.”
“Okay,” you say breezily, swinging your legs out of the bed, “but if you’re only doing it so I’ll stop bruising, you should taper your expectations.”
“There’s no way I’m letting this happen again,” he says. “I can’t mark you up every time I kiss you.”
You hum. “I never said I minded.”
“I mind.”
“Well, to each their own.”
#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid one shot#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fandom
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"Give Me Five" - Choso Kamo
4,591 words.
₊˚༊*·˚ warnings. nsfw (18+), ice-hockey player! choso, bestfriend's brother trope, p in v, resolved sexual tensions, foreplay, fingering, titty sucking, choso fucks you in his jersey, orgasm denial, praising, hair pulling, rough play, nsfw links (underlined), spitting kink, mirror play, feral choso
₊˚༊*·˚ notes. I absolutely enjoyed making this special request for @moonriseoverkyoto! thank you all so much for 700 followers ^^ included a link for you lovelies as a gift, hehe I hope to send more work your way soon :) thank you for the love and support this whole month!
rightful art credits to @/kmskc_f, @/yume041624, @/elcheggen, @/uoru1_juju (all on twt)!
(russian translation) - creds to @juliabelll 🩷
Goosebumps formed all over your skin as you were met with the coldness of the rink. Bits of regret filled you for being stubborn this morning, choosing to not wear extra layers. Squinting, you look around to find a close friend of yours, not too far a figure jumping up and down catches your eye.
"Hey! Over here- I'm here!" Yuji called to you in his typical, chirpy voice. Multiple heads turned to the sudden commotion, followed by another look to your direction. Embarrassed, you facepalm; whispering quiet apologies to others as you squeeze past the row of seats, making your way over.
"Yuji!- I got caught in traffic. Did I miss anything?" You fold down the seat next to him, the excited Yuji passing you another one of those generic team jerseys that he also had on. You take a good look at it before putting the garment over your head, the team colours being black and yellow.
Beside you, the boy rummages through a large plastic bag of popcorn. "Mmph- No- My brother would be happy if he knew- You were here." His eyes were wide open and alert, observing the game like a hawk.
"..Ah, it's nothing. If I didn't go, I would have been rotting at home." You giggled, knowing the real answer. As soon as Yuji sent the text, 'wanna go to my brother's game next weekend?'. You had to go. You've been dying to go. Ever since you met Choso for the first time, you made good use of every opportunity you had to see him.
He had an unforgettable face, and a dreamy body you'd sometimes, and shamelessly catch a glimpse of from time to time. But you were doubting, and unsure if the feeling was mutual. The man was busy, which drove you to think he had no time for a woman in his life.
You fixate your head to the rink in front of you. Of course, you got a hold of the best seats. Yuji being the brother of a world renowned hockey player had it’s benefits.
The same bag of popcorn lands firmly onto your lap, Yuji reaching for the soda cup underneath his foot. "Hmm, he looks pissed though. I think I know why." He leans back, index finger scratching at his head.
You furrow your brows, taking several glances around the ice. A familiar back faced you, 'Kamo' and '12' plastered onto the behind of his jersey. Dark hair effortlessly left down, not too much going on. A couple loose strands falling onto his face, Choso looked like a dream. Yuji beside you shrieks for his name, cheering his brother on.
Choso spins around, glaring at the audience. He was outraged, and you weren't sure why. He didn't dare smile, or wave. Yuji grunts at his brothers reaction, smile fading and slouching back down onto the seat.
"..Oh, I get what you mean now." It was undeniable that Choso was a different person behind his helmet, and that he took the sport seriously. He always wanted to make everyone proud. As one of the best players on his team, everyone counted on him, so there was a generous amount of pressure on his shoulders.
The screeching blow of a whistle shrills throughout the arena for half time, Choso violently shoving his hockey stick onto the ice. Plenty of teammates approach him, others choose to not get involved. Either way, he shoves past them. Everyone around you seemed confused, wondering what made him so agitated. You watched as he cursed to his higher-ups, hands strongly gripping onto the side wall.
"Every day, I fucking hate this sport more and more." Choso speaks through gritted teeth, angrily ripping off his helmet. "Piece of shit."
The staff team stands aside, ushering him out of the rink. His coach guides him over to the side bench, crouching down to give him a typical, motivational chat. Choso only puts his head down and into his gloved hands, becoming more and more annoyed by the second.
"Kamo- you know what? Bring your ass back to the locker room and give yourself five." Not knowing what to do, his coach decides it was best for him to blow off some steam. Not letting out another word, he storms off back into the locker rooms, the crowds groaning as he does so; the privacy invading camera focusing on him.
Chatter filled the air between the crowds around you. “..What happened to him? Your brother just stormed off.” You turn to Yuji, confused and filled with millions of questions.
"No clue, but I'm still a bit hungry." Yuji sighs, looking at the now empty plastic bag of popcorn. He takes a sip of what's left in his soda cup.
"..What? You are?" You look through your purse for some money. More than enough, that's for sure. A wrinkled twenty bill was tucked away inside. "Here- I'll go and get you something. It's on me."
You could've sworn that you had seen happiness twinkle in his eyes. This boy certainly loves to eat. "..Really?" He smiles, in response you nod your head up and down.
"Yeah! Just give me five, I'll be back as soon as possible." You warmly confirm the offer and he nods, shortly before you had to endure the entire process squeezing your way back out of the row.
You walk off into the tunnel leading to the outside of the arena. So many halls, and I’m not even familiar with this place. The two minute stroll led you to nowhere anyways, resulting in you doubting yourself. “…Where’s the food court?” You pout, coming to the conclusion you had probably been walking in circles this whole time.
The next long corridor you were met with was filled with doors everywhere. Loads of them. “..Ah.. have I been here before?”
Walking past each door, you look around for anybody nearby who was able to provide some sort of guidance. Hopeless, there was no one at all. Until one door you had walked past was slightly open, the light on. Maybe someone was in there? You genuinely just wanted to get your hot dogs.
You retrace your steps backwards, the faint sound of two voices coming from the room. Curious, you peeked your head through the slight gap.
"I don't think I did my best out there." It was Choso, elbows on knees on a padded seat. Heaving heavily, pulling the last strings of himself together. His coach with arms crossed in front of him. The conversation was hard to make out, but you were still able to put together some bits of it.
Clutching tightly onto your necklace, you couldn't help but feel concerned. Choso adored this sport with his entire heart, but so much he didn't have time to do anything else. Yuji always talked about how distant he could be when preparing for the new season.
The cursing stops, and before you know it, the door in front of you was wide open; framing you to look like an absolute snoop. You howl, instantly stepping back from the door frame. The same coach stood in front of you, an appalling look on his face. "Who the hell are you?! A money hungry reporter? Guards!-"
You nervously laugh, "Oh- No, no- I'm not a-", endless words were coming out of your mouth in a complete babble.
"..I know her." Choso who was watching everything unfold, tilted his head to the side, looking to see who was at the door.
The coach looks at you with an unamused expression, giving Choso a double look. His voice grows low, speaking in a discreet manner. "How about you talk it out with him. He needs it." He says before walking away from the frame, giving you a stare down as he does so.
Dumbfounded, a string of words only come out in a disoriented patter, "..I was just, looking for the.. concession stand.."
Choso on the other hand, keeps quiet. Blankly staring at the carpeted floor. His gloves and skates were off, but his jersey still on. You gulp, considering if you should speak anymore; scared that you'll only tick him off further.
Your hands rested in each of your palms, unsure whether you should step inside. "..I'm here with your brother, actually- cause he invited me to-"
"I know. I wanted you to come. I invited you, I told him to ask you." Choso speaks lowly, his tone different from when he was talking to the coach. He lets out a labored sigh, mumbling. "..Only for me to play like absolute shit,"
Processing what he had just said, it still changed your entire perspective. You didn't know how to think of it though, so you simply looked over it.
Deciding to approach him rather than standing at the door like some stranger, you close the door behind you. Recalling the coach talking about 'money hungry reporters', you didn't want to take any chances. "..I don't mean to pry, but do you want to talk about.. this?" Sitting down on the free seat beside Choso, you were careful with your choice of words. You didn't want to dig the hole any deeper. Making yourself comfortable, you set your bag away to the side and faced him.
Choso's voice was more soft, and it wasn't as stern to when he was talking to his coach. "..I just don't approve of how I'm performing lately."
Personally, you didn't know much about ice hockey. Nor did you store any valuable advice for it in your brain. It pained you to think that if you were to give him advice, you'd sound like a typical high school guidance counselor.
"Oh, well um.." You purse your lips, trying to come up with something to say. "Is it because you're.. stressed?" Still unsure of what to do, your hand slowly makes its way onto the flat of his back; slowly rubbing shapes all over to comfort him.
"Probably." Although his voice was now mellow, Choso's replies were becoming short and quick. You were afraid that this talking out was of no use to him.
Your hand stops its movements, "..Should you do something about it? Like let it out?", Choso lifts his head up, turning to you. A gulp forces down your throat at how intense he was eyeing you, your own eyes unable to hold contact.
Choso blinks, head turning away once again to rest his chin on his palm. "..I don't know how." That was his problem, Choso wasn't good at letting out his emotions. He usually bottled them up, and solved his personal problems on his own— you could almost refer to him as a stoic being.
Clearing your throat, you bite your lower lip to try and think of something. You gave him the advice, but you didn't know the method yourself. This is why I could never be a therapist.
You mentally curse at yourself, trying to come up with a suggestion that isn't so cheesy like, do what you love to do!
"..I don't know either.. Me- I guess?" A worried expression washes over your face, a mazed Choso turning his head to you for the second time.
A perplexed, questioning noise came stirred up in him. "Huh? What do you mean?"
Eyes fluttering, you were unable to provide him with another answer. What did you mean by, 'me'? Was it just another one of those moments where you let your mouth speak before you think? "..You could let it out.. on me?"
Chosos demeanor had altered, his chin peeling away from the warmth of his palm. His body sat upright as he looked at you, his lips slightly parted. You couldn't tell if he was mortified or enthralled; and you were almost begging for him to say something.
He closes his mouth and swallows some spit to nourish his dried out throat, before standing up in front of you. You feel as if your beating heart were to take over your entire body and head any second now. A lingering tension in the air so thick— not even a lumberjack could saw through it.
Choso's eyes surveying you from top to bottom, studying the features on your face— his thumb swipes across your cheek in a tender, reassuring matter. He was grateful of your offer, but he just couldn't bring himself to directly accept it.
Choso's hand slowly moves down your face, the tip of his thumb gently pressing down on your lower lip. "..You look good in our jersey," His thumb forces the rest of its way into your mouth, "..but even better if it was my own." Was this a code phrase for, 'I need to fuck you, and I need to fuck you now?' His thoughts drifted off to filthy things—like imagining himself rutting into you in his own, bespoke jersey, 'Kamo' in a dirty gold written on your back as you take him whole like a good girl.
Your breath hitches, his finger gliding over the surface of your tongue before he decides to pull it back out. Choso starts to take off the gear on his upper half, both the body pads and jersey.
It was difficult enough to keep your eyes off the now, half naked Choso in front of you. His body muscular and perfectly carved from all of the work he's been putting in for preparation, Choso was more than pleasing to look at. He tosses his jersey and gear beside you, his hands grabbing onto the flesh of your waist.
Lifting you from the seat, you wrap your legs around his torso, lips desperately locking onto each other as he switched positions. The two of you now sitting back down on the seat.
Short mewls and gasps for air leave your mouth as you started to pull your top over your head; Choso's hands roaming all over the surface of your ass. Your hands travel down his chest, your finger tips tracing over his abs painfully slow. Tongues tangling, Choso swallowing any moan he could get from you, especially after the distressingly slow period of yearning for one another. It felt like a reward.
Being the skilled man he is, his fingertips undo the clasp of your bra effortlessly. Groaning in satisfaction, eyes closed and sucking; a free hand fondling with the other.
You claw your fingers through his hair, quietly moaning as he hungrily latched onto your nipple. Arching against his bare skin, you ached to keep him close, and possibly closer. Amidst the sucking, Choso reaches for his jersey beside him, gesturing you to put it over your head. He fulfilled his wish. You proudly raise your arms up, feeling the fabric graze against your skin. It was quite massive on you, hence himself being twice your size.
Impatient, your curious hands wander off to the waistband of his pants; his safety gear already being off had made it easier. Reaching down and past his skin tight shorts, a thought evoking in you causing your hand to withdraw.
"..W-wait," You pant, "What about everyone out there?" You couldn't help but worry about those outside who would start to get suspicious. You knew how much this mattered to him.
Choso rolls his eyes. "I don't really care, they're assholes anyway. Let them wait." His lips only make its way back onto the skin of your neck, warm breath fanning down your sternum. He didn't care if everyone else were to wait outside. He had been waiting for this moment, dreaming about it - and would do anything to not miss it.
Using two hands, you possessively grab onto his jaw to keep him closer, Choso's hands cheekily moving up inside the jersey and cupping onto both of your tits. He really loves them, doesn't he?
Pulling away for another breath your lips miss his already. You hop off his lap, hastily unbuttoning and kicking off your jeans. They fly away to the other side of the locker room, Choso pulling you back into his embarace. But this time, you were facing the other way.
His fingers tug onto the hem of your panties, pulling them back until they snapped against your skin; the stinging sound echoing throughout the room.
You intently watch yourself in the full length mirror across from you two, Choso using his hands to guide your legs open; his head falling onto the crook of your neck.
Choso's hand slowly made its way down to the your panties, his fingertips moving the fabric to the side. Toying with your folds, taking his sweet time. His delicate, addicting touch giving you shivers all over. You close your eyes to indulge in the ecstasy of this moment; scolding yourself for not doing this with him any sooner.
His same fingertips circle your clit, the speed of his movements fluctuating; which resulted in you grabbing onto his bicep, your body sinking down into his lap. Choso watches you break into pieces under his touch, how you repeatedly tap on his arm- asking for leniency.
Choso leans down to your ear, his throaty voice almost sounding like he's purring. “Just relax for me, I can feel you’re too tensed up.” Wasn’t it supposed to be me who gives him advice? Why is it that the roles have reversed?
The back of your head presses deeply into his chest, Choso bringing retrieving fingers give them a generous suck before pushing them into you. His fingers curl up inside, working them in a motion that emits a squelching noise.
“C-Choso, it’s too much- please,” A whimper crawls out of your throat, the man above you cooing and hushing you.
Your hair raising pleas being the catalyst for him only wanting to do more than he already is. His middle finger taps and teases and your bundle of nerves, his strength making your tug on his wrist pointless. “..Shh, you don’t want them to hear, do you?”
You frantically shake your head from side to side, Choso grinning against the top of your head as he had you wrapped around his finger. Cock straining against his shorts, he would take a photo to make this memory last.
His gestures come to a halt and you whine, Choso had forbidden you from orgasming. "Choso!" You hiss as he glues his hands to your hips, twirling you around against the seat.
Mindfully pressing onto the flat of your lower back, he bends you forward; in need of support, your hands reached for the wooden slabs that divided the seats. His strong hands rip your underwear into fragments off your body, Choso sneering at you nagging him.
His actions in no rush, the same hands that were cupping your pussy now feeling down your back, Choso sheepishly grinning at this fresh new view, a degree of gratification fills him for the hundredth time at the sight of 'Kamo' and '12' plastered on your back.
You reach behind you, barely tapping your fingers on Choso's pelvis to grab his attention. He leans down to hear what you had to say, the imprint of his cock imprisoned by his shorts pressed against your bare pussy.
“..Let it all out, I promise I’ll be okay.” Your hand snaked behind his head, fingers combing through his hair one last time. His body heat glossed over your behind, a position so intimate.“Just tell me if I’m hurting you, alright?”
Nodding in approval, Choso withdraws into his old position. Grabbing for his girthy cock out of his shorts, he groans as he jerks it ever so slightly. Forming an orb of spit on his tongue, letting it fall directly onto his length. He doesn't waste anymore time to slide it in, the objective of not hurting you still at the back of his mind.
You let out a long, awaited whimper that broke out into a pained sniffle, his entire length stretching you out. Your anchoring onto the wooden panels only grew stronger, Choso stilling in you for a few moments. The two of you create a symphony of guilty satisfaction, Choso himself unable to process that you let him inside of you; luckiest man in the world, he thought.
His grip on the plush of your waist transition into a soothing massage, “..Are you okay?” Concerned, he regards your strained noises.
Tears well up in your eyes, Choso rubbing his hands up and down your back. “..I-I’m fine.” You replied, managing to form some words. Even though it hurts, you didn't want him to stop. You wanted this as much as he did. He inhales deeply, grunting as his hips stroked into you slow and deep. He took you in like a work of art, savoring every minute, second with you.
“Fuck, Choso- just go faster will you? I know you want to.” You choke out, words dying in your throat. Choso obeying the green llight, you felt him grab and twist onto the fabric of the jersey behind you, his hips snapping into you at a faster pace.
A cacophony of skin slapping and moaning echoed throughout the room, Choso brings his hand down to toy with your clit; heightening your stimulation. Your entire body jolting with each of his thrusts, his little praises like 'good girl', and 'you're taking me so well' making your sex pool like mad.
Broken and choppy curses slip past your wet llips, Choso letting go of the jersey and fixing his grip on your scalp, pulling your head back towards him.
His hand sneaks underneath your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact as you furrow your brows up at him. Your mouth stays wide open, moans no longer heard coming out from it. "Look at me baby," lids shut at the colossal pleasure, Choso needs not to repeat himself; but he does. "I said, look at me," Hauling your eyelids up, a vision of Choso glaring down at you from above— he wasn't the same person as the one half an hour ago.
Choso drops yet another ball of spit into your mouth, patting on the bottom of your chin telling you to shut and swallow, letting out a throaty sound in approval.
Clawing his fingers back into your scalp, he pushes your head back down. His leg lands onto the seat beside you, his thrusts brutally drilling into you deeper than before; Choso definitely rearranging your guts. You let him use you, so he did exactly that. Hell- if you two had a bed, just make sure you have enough saved for a new one the next day.
Makeup was unfortunately ruined from tears and spit, your hair no longer in perfect style from all the grabbing. His heavy balls relentlessly slapped against your clit, Choso huffing quietly.
He takes a hold of your two wrists, prying you from the comfort of the seat and commanding you to stand. Hypnotised, you watched everything unfold; Choso still holding onto your arms behind you as he continued to rut into your hole like a mad man.
Your cheeks were stained with tears, all sorts of unimaginable feelings stirring in the pool of your stomach; Choso already grows bored of the position. He swiftly lides you off his cock, turning you around for the fifth time today so he could see your beautiful face one more time.
Unsure of what was to happen next, you tiringly wrap both of your hands around his neck as he cupped onto the surface of your ass, lifting you up and sinking you down onto his cock. Your head rests against his chest in exhaustion, Choso’s anchored grip slowly loosening, choosing to move into the inside of your legs. Short paced breaths and eyes shutting at the new sensation of him fucking up into you. It was light work to him, carrying you was no problem at all.
Pushing both of you against a nearby wall, your back almost slid up and down the cold panels as Choso grew feral, his cock bullying but thoughtfully kissing your cervix at this unforgiving pace.
You fail to keep your eyes open, body taken over by bliss as he bottoms into you, convinced you had lost your voice. Choso could feel your silky juices move down his shaft, walls constantly clenching around around him.
“Don’t you dare close those eyes,” Choso orders, your hands hysterically tapping onto his shoulders to let him know you were going to snap. Your face winced in pain, you knew that you were going to have a hard time walking for the next week or two.
“..C-Choso,” you choke out, a threshold about to be met as the unfamiliar coil in your stomach urges to let loose.
His thrusts deepening to push you over the edge, cock sloppily moving in and out of your hole; his entire length coated with you.
“Just let it out— let it out.” he desperately whimpered, your mouth forming an ‘o’. His words like a spell, something that will haunt you for days coming. Choso’s eyes faux-sympathetically looking into yours that were blinking like mad as he felt your legs shiver in his grasp.
You shatter and cry at the orgasm that washed over you, bringing yourself to look at his cock withdrawing from your puffy, used cunt. Choso's jaw clenched, beads of white endlessly form at his tip, his balls twitching at the same time your gummy walls pulsed and throbbed around him.
He doesn’t let go of you, bodies still overheating and glistening from sweat. Instead he carries you back to the seats, sitting you down like a fragile porcelain doll. “My legs,” your voice raspy from the endless moaning, “..they’re so sore.”
Choso leans in for a meaningful kiss, your cock-dazed smile forming against his lips. His hands kneading your thighs. The locker room smelled of filthy, sinful sex—but that will just air out in no time. “..You need me to walk you out?”
“Choso, you can’t. There are cameras everywhere.” You grab your purse off the ground, in search of your phone. Almost forty five minutes have passed, your eyes widening. “Huh?! How long have I been gone for?"
He attempts to wipe the stained carpets, a faint white still engraved. Atleast he tried. “Pussy too good I forgot where I was, I’m not gonna lie.”
“Not funny, Choso. I need to get back to your brother!” Scurrying around the room, you pick your jeans off the ground, Choso whistling behind you causing you to turn your head,
“..Guess these aren’t of use to you anymore?” He holds the fragments of your panties up, torn to pieces, the dismaying mempry angering you as you were reminded of it for the second time.
You snap at him, Choso not taking any inch of you seriously. I mean, he literally had you whimpering, fucked you in his jersey and melting under his touch less than five minutes ago. “You fucking owe me a new pair.”
“I’ll buy you a hundred.”
You hurry out into the lobby, looking around for Yuji. Not having time to fix your hair, you almost scream as you walked past a reflection of yourself, mortified at how you looked. It’s okay… he wouldn’t suspect anything, right?
A familiar coral haired person was lounging at the sofas down the end, of course that had to be him. “Y-Yuji? is that you?” The head turning to your direction, it definitely was him; his eyes were shocked to still see you alive and standing before him.
You sit on the free armchair beside him, “..I’m so sorry, something just.. happened.” Nervously smiling, you wipe the residues of dried spit off your chin, your head stuck in one direction to avoid looking at Yuji in the face. Airing yourself with an invisible fan, you look away in all sorts of directions.
“It’s cool, the game got cancelled anyways- and I got my hotdogs.” He points to the four empty wrappers on the table in front of him. Yuji leans back against the sofa.
“..Uh— ..Is that, Choso's jersey?"
Fuck.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me, ily guys sm!!🎀🩷
[luvwestwood masterlist]
#choso kamo smut#choso smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk smut#choso kamo x reader#choso x you#choso kamo#choso x reader#jujutsu kaisen choso
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Skrillex requested by @100-skrillecs !
#i never thought i would draw skrillex someday wow#thank you so much for the request i hope you like it! c:#this was a new experience#art request
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can you do more sub Francis mosses??
WANT THAT MAN TO BE FILLED TO THE BRIM AND WHIMPERING SKBDJDBDJC
sub! francis mosses x gn! reader
summary: making lots of milk with francis
wc: 1.8k
content warning: nsfw, lactation, francis in lingerie, feminization, milking, nipple play, overstimulation, dirty talk, porn with no plot, anal, cock can be seen as a strap, mention of cunt
author's note: thank u for the ask, anon :)) I LOVEEEE SUB FRANCIS guys. idk why this was so filthy. like i started writing this with no ideas and a dream (to finish this fanfic). anyways hope u enjoy this, ily guys !! not proof read, minors pleaseee dni !!
if you ever wondered how milk was made, here's how.
there sat your boyfriend in his cow-printed lingerie, all collared up, looking up at you with a bashful expression. his cock was painfully hard, barely contained in his panties.
"feel s'full, dovie..." francis moaned, squeezing his thighs together. he squirmed in his seat, barely containing himself. "milk me?"
he looked up at you with a seemingly innocent expression, but made such a lewd request with his hands cupping at his big chest. you tugged him by this leash, bringing him to his knees on the floor.
"you were so shy when you started making milk," you tugged at his nipple through the bra, slightly soaking the fabric with his milk. "now look at you. always looking so forward to making it f'me," you chuckled at the desperate look at his face.
"m-mhm, wanna make lots of milk for you, hngh...!" he nodded desperately, biting his lower lip to suppress his moans. his hands gripped at his knees, his bottom shaking in anticipation.
you took both nubs between your fingers, rubbing them. "just for me? did you forget this milk's for your neighbors, hm?" you tugged upwards again, making his eyes cross and his teeth grit in pleasure.
"hnghk!"
almost immediately, milk started to leak from his chest, spilling down the sides of his body. you slid the bucket by his waist, letting the droplets roll in.
"this is more than usual, francie," you peered into the bucket seeing a substantial amount of milk in the bucket already. "think i needa drink the leftover, yeah?"
you leaned over, lip pressed against the bra, looking up at his flushed face. his lower lip was quivering and you could hear the thumping of his heartbeat through his chest. "m'kay, hmmngh..."
you latched your lips around the fabric, sucking out the milk that drenched his bralette. your other hand slipped under to toy with his perky nipple.
you slid the fabric off his bouncy chest, admiring the pinkness of his nubs, soaked in his own milk. "oooghh...! t-there's so much, 's so, mmnGHH! so wet, so wet, nnnggh!"
"that's all you honey, taste so sweet f'me," milk was dripping of your chin as you sucked on his sopping wet nipple while pinching the other one.
you could visibly see francis' cock twitching in his cute, little panties at your words, humping the air as you suckled and toyed with his nubs. "aaaagh, 's really c-coming out, hGHK!"
whatever you just did made milk squirt out of his nipples, the substance spraying all over him and into your mouth. you looked up at him while you gulped the substance, fondling his free nipple soothingly.
"didn't know you could do that, honey," you pulled off his nipple with a pop, smirking up at him. he was slumped against the bed, cum sticking to his panties. "lots of milk down here too," you chuckled, rubbing your thumb over his slit through the fabric.
"h-hnnngh! s-sticky...feels, ngh, sticky, dovie..." francis pouted, grinding his bulge against your fingers for friction.
you tugged at his leash to ease his antsy behavior, a moan escaping his lips from the pressure around his neck. "none of that. such a slutty little boy, so eager to be milked, hm?" you cooed, feigning innocence.
he had little tears in his eyes, frowning at the way you scolded him. "'m sorry, dovie. jus' wanna cum lots for you, hm?" he leaned closer, his bottom lip puffed out and soaked.
"you're so pretty, honey. look so pretty in your panties," you continued to rub his slit, as francis collapsed into your hold. "y'gonna keep these on f'me, hm?" you began to stroke at his length, tilting your head down to see him shivering.
"unghh...uh-huh...'m gonna, gnnghh, gonna be good for you," he mindlessly babbled, nodding his head. the way you complimented him made his head swirl and his chest feel fuzzy.
"mhm, always such a pretty boy f'me. always such a good listener," you cooed, tugging his cock through the leg of his panties, stroking faster than before.
francis nodded, eyes rolled back with spit dripping down his lips. "mnngh, mhm...feels so good, dovie," his hand was pressed against your chest in attempts to stabilize himself.
"y'gonna give me lots of milk, right? my pretty princess gonna give me lots of milk, hm?" you squeezed the base of his cock, rubbing with more force.
he squeezed his eyes shut, still nodding at your words. his eyebrows furrowed, concentrating on cumming for you. "h-hnnGH, o-oh, might cum soon...! f-feel it c-coming, 'm cummin! oooghhHHH! cumming!" he moaned, shaking his head.
cum splattered on your shirt and his tummy as you slowed your hand. francis breathed heavily against you, little tears slipping down the sides of his face. "s-so, ghhh...good...."
"feeling alright, honey?" your hands slithered down to his waist, rubbing at his sensitive hips. he bucked them, twitching in your grasp.
"m-more, dovie, ngh...there's still lots of, m-milk left, please," he pleaded, weakly looking at you with tears in his eyes. he wanted you to milk him dry, until he couldn't walk anymore.
you smiled, pinching on his sides playfully. "on your hands 'n knees, honey."
he immediately knew what you meant, quickly getting into place. from the angle you were looking at him from, you could see his erect cock pressed against his flushed tummy and his outline of his balls in his all too tight panties.
"you're so cute, francie," you fondled his balls, making him squirm at your touch.
he groaned, lips pursed into an 'o' at the action. "o-oghhhh...t-there's no milk in there, ngh," he protested, his hips shaking at the way you groped him.
"there's a ton of milk in here. look," you squeezed his balls, cum squirting out of his dick into the bucket you skillfully placed underneath of him.
"HNNNGHK!"
he hated how embarrassingly loud the high-pitched squeal he let out was. he felt like the entire apartment complex could hear the way his moans. but it's not like he minded, he wanted every one to know how good you were making him feel.
"look at you squirting like a pretty princess today, huh francie? such a cute little hole here," you toyed with his slit, making him jolt.
he came three times in such a short amount of time, but he still had more in him. "look at how this one's throbbing for something in here," you removed your hand from his cock to circle your thumb around his pulsing hole.
it was a pretty shade of pink, fucked into so many times that it was basically vertical like a cunt. you rolled your thumb over the wetness of his hole, slipping it in teasingly.
"h-hnk! w-want your cock in here, dovie..." he shook his hips slightly, pressing his backside into your finger to dig deeper than it currently was.
you smirked at his pleading expression, pulling your thumb in. he whined at the emptiness, but squealed out a moan when your pointer and middle fingers plunged back into his hole.
"o-oonngh! s-so deep...!" he threw his head back, eyes rolled to the back of his head.
your fingers jammed so deeply that they just barely nudged his prostate, making him squeal from the sensation. he felt tingles all over his body, blood rushing to the tips of his toes.
"this loose cunt doesn't need preppin', huh? 's soakin' in here," you teased, rubbing the tip of your fingers against that special spot. you were knuckles deep in his hole, he was more than ready.
"i-i can, unngh! take it, dovie! p-prepped myself before, hnnnggGHH!"
you pulled out roughly, spanking his ass roughly with your free hand. you quickly pulled your cock out, stroking it with your slick-covered hand. "of course you would expect more than just milking, greedy boy."
"'m sorry, dovie, i-i jus', ooOGH!"
francis threw his head back, he could see stars when your cock pressed deeply into his cunt. he tightened around you, sucking you in deeper.
you paid no mind to his whimpered, thrusting into him wildly. his jaw went slack, tongue spilling out of his mouth coating his saliva. spit dripped down his chin as his head shook every time you thrusted back into him.
"such a needy little princess. so greedy for my cock, huh?" you tugged harshly at the leash, making him tense up from the pressure around his throat.
he was panting like a dog, but being milked like a cow. he came for the fourth time, squirting all over the ground, completely missing his designated bucket.
"oooNNGH! s-so, fuck, deep!" he mewled out, hearted thumping out of his chest from all the pleasure he was feeling. his tip was throbbing red, tired from cumming so much. but the cum bubbling in his tummy made him think otherwise.
as you tugged at his collar, your free hand reached down to fondle with his nipple. there was still milk spilling out of his tits, dripping down to his tummy, mixing with his cum.
"hnnNGHK! yesyesyes, c-cum in me dovie, please! hnnghh!" he babbled, as you rutted into his cum-filled hole. you cummed long before but he didn't notice until he was filled to the brim with your seed.
you continued to fuck cum deep into his tummy, so deeply that you could see the outline of your cock. "f-fuck, you're so needy today, honey," you grunt, squeezing his tit.
"trained these tits so well. milkin' so much f'me now," you flicked his buds, milk spilling out. this was the second time he squirted from his nipples in one night.
you were slowly losing stamina, despite cumming less than francis. francis was fully fucked with your cum, but still had so much left in him. his breasts were filled with milk and cock still begging for more release.
his mind was so hazy, face flushed from the endless orgasms. you pulled out of his hole, watching the cum seep out. it filled his inner walls generously, so much that it was dripping down his inner thighs.
"n-no! why'd you, hnghh, pull out, dovie?" he whined, shuffling back to stuff himself full of your cock.
when he sat on your cock, even more cum spilled out, dripping on the floor. you roughly sat him down on your lap, his back pressed against your chest.
francis started to grind his hips against your cock, but you shook your head. "no moving honey," you growled, fingers gripping at his hips to still his movements to force him to cock warm you. he really thought he could get away with breaking the rules.
"no...moving, hngh?"
your nails slightly scratched against his chest, little to no milk squirting out now. he almost out of milk. unfortunately for him, as revenge, when you regain your stamina, you wouldn't give him a break.
francis was in for a long night of milking.
#francis mosses#francis mosses x reader#sub francis mosses#milkman#that's not my neighbour#that's not my neighbor#thats not my neighbor#x reader#smut#ncrescent asks
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Hello!! I’m not sure if this has been done before, but may I request how Trey, Cater, Azul, Rook and Idia would react to their s/o plays with their hair when cuddling with them?
Also, I wanted to say that I really like your writing. It feels like I’m reading a masterpiece, and whenever I get a notification from your blog I can’t help but feel giddy and wonder what masterpieces have you written today!! I hope you are taking care of yourself though, it’s not good to strain yourself!! :c
(I did this for Cater which pretty much feels like the same thing!
and thank you so much dear <3)
Azul Ashengrotto:
Azul struggled hard with intimacy and even something as simple as running your fingers through his hair would take some getting used to. It’s better to announce what you want to do, not just because you get the gift of Azul’s flustered face, but because it gives himself a chance to think about it. He’ll normally allow you to at least try, as long as there’s an agreement that the minute he said no you’d stop, but he found having his hair played with wasn’t all that bad.
Idia Shroud:
Idia is trying not to sweat too much from cuddling, let alone you lovingly playing with his hair like you’re the most wholesome couple on the planet. He quickly realized that the visual novels ARE right, that having your scalp massaged and your hair twirled was the greatest feeling in the world. He wondered if he could employ your services as sometimes when he was in a raid he could get so tense he became tilted, but thought twice of it since you’d turn into an even bigger distraction.
Rook Hunt:
Rook is like a purring cat, unable to deny the draw of your soft, skilled hands as they worshipped his silky locks of hair. He chuckled as he thought about your natural smell passing along to him from how much you touched, the gentle breeze blowing making it seem like you were present when in fact it was just your remnants left over on his skin. It’s not an unpleasant thought, as smell was often used to mark territory, and you’re completely lost as Rook rambled about how honored he was to have you mark him up.
Trey Clover:
Having you play with his hair had always made Trey laugh, as it wasn’t quite long enough to do much with but you always seemed entertained by it. It was always so soft and lovely, you couldn’t help yourself, and sometimes you’d massage his head when he had a headache just to get your hands in his hair again. Trey couldn’t find it in him to complain, thinking that as long as it made you happy he’d fake a headache or two just to give you a reason.
#Twisted Wonderland#TWST#Twisted Wonderland Imagines#Twisted Wonderland x Reader#TWST Imagines#TWST x Reader#Azul Ashengrotto#Trey Clover#Idia Shroud#Rook Hunt#Azul Ashengrotto x Reader#Trey Clover x Reader#Rook Hunt x Reader#Idia Shroud x Reader
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