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sinsofsummers · 10 months

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sensational; part ii

6.8k | joel miller x f!innocent!reader follow-up to sensational

summary: you've tasked joel with teaching you about all of the things you missed. he's back for more...teaching moments. warnings: smut (duh), 18+, mdni. softdom!joel vibes in this one, joel gives reader an anatomy lesson, pet names (lots of dollface) fingering, praise kink to the gods, masturbation (f and brief m), reader gives joel a hand(y), grinding, bit of a corruption kink toward the end, jesus there might need to be a part 3 note: well. look at what you guys did. you went and loved on sensational so much and asked for a part 2 so often that i just had to grant your wishes. i hope you’re fckn happy✌🏼🥹 (this is all jokes i’m so excited to write more of this dynamic teehee)

You'd never counted yourself as a dreamer of any sort; when sleep clouded your brain at night, every thought faded along with it. Aside from the occasional nightmare, reminding you of your parents' absence, you hadn't had an actual dream since you were a kid.

Of course, that night in Joel's house had changed everything, in every possible way. In just an hour or so he had taken your world into his hands, shaped it, flipped it, and returned it to you, unrecognizable. His name was carved into everything you saw and touched, and this included your dreams.

He was everywhere in your head when you slept. So much so that you'd begun to forget which was reality and which was a figment of your imagination, which made your patrols with him all the more humiliating.

Your hands were cold. It was all you could focus on as you followed Joel along your normal patrol route. Just twelve hours had passed since that night in his house, when he'd touched you with rough hands and what taught you what it meant to feel desired. His words still rang clear in your head days later:

Trust me, doll. I've got so much more to teach you.

It sent your head reeling just to think about it now. The memory of his fingertips grazing the side of your face as he'd said it, those brown eyes sparkling with desire for you—a vision of contentment.

You had leaned into his touch subconsciously, reaching a hand up to trace the line of his wrist. His eyes had darted to where your fingers pressed to his skin, a soft grin replacing his satisfied smirk. "I'd better get you home, then," he'd whispered.

It had taken everything in you to ignore the small pang of disappointment that had bloomed in your gut, but it was an easier task when he'd dropped his lips to your forehead.

"No one'll miss me at home," you'd protested quietly, trying not to relish too much in the feeling of his beard scratching at the space between your eyebrows.

This sentiment was true. You still didn't know how things had worked out so well, but after arriving in Jackson, Tommy (the fact that it was Joel's younger brother made this seem all the less coincidental) and Maria had been more than accommodating. They'd offered you your own space, a house to yourself. Granted, it was much smaller than Joel's, but it was your own. It had become home in the four short years you'd lived in Jackson.

No one was waiting for you at home. It was a fact that used to make your throat close up, memories taunting you every moment they could. Now it was a welcomed thought, if it meant that you could remain in the heady presence of Joel Miller.

But he'd only shaken his head, his brown eyes flitting down to your lips before returning to your gaze. "I'm sure they'll notice when you don't come strolling out of your own place in the mornin'," he'd insisted gently. His thumb traced your bottom lip when your shoulders slumped. You hoped you didn't look as pitiful as you felt, your lip threatening to push outward in a pout.

"Might not be able to keep my hands to myself tonight if I let you stay," he'd breathed. You didn't care if he said it as an apology, or if it was actually true.

Because who were you to disagree with him? It was Joel.

So without more than a lingering hand on your wrist, he'd walked you to your door. When you'd teased him for such a chivalrous act, he'd cocked an eyebrow, glancing sideways at you. "Can't just let you walk home alone after that," he'd scoffed, his voice rough again in the outdoors. A few people were still milling about despite it being darker than pitch after nightfall. "M'not a complete scoundrel," he said with a wry grin.

Your front door always looked so inviting, a place for you to take a breath and relax after a long day. In that moment, it was taking everything in you to put one foot in front of the other and return to your own place.

"Scoundrel," you'd mused, hoping the amusement in your voice covered the way you leaned back with every step, as if you could claim one more touch of his body—arm, chest, shoulder—to send you to bed with nothing but him on your mind. "Kind of a big word, wouldn't you say?" you'd teased him, just as he'd done to you. "Sure you know what it means?"

The twitch of his jaw was enough of a reward for your attempt at humor, but your satisfied smirk had been wiped clean off your face when he'd darted a glance around before leaning in, hovering just centimeters from your face.

It occurred to you in that moment that you'd truly only kissed him once. A shame, a voice in your head sighed. His lips were devastatingly plump, even in the darkness.

Joel had stayed there, his eyes tearing down to your mouth before warning you in that deliciously low baritone, "I know what it is. Best get inside," his jaw twitched once more and you caught him clenching and unclenching his fists, "'fore I show you what it means to be a scoundrel."

You'd gone inside with a shaky breath and the return of that familiar pulse that, it seemed, only he knew how to ignite.

—

Joel chose not to look in the mirror when he'd gone home that night. He wasn't sure he'd be able to stand the way his hair was undoubtedly wild, his eyes hard with desire, and his hands still aching with the memory of her squirming body in his lap.

After four years of near silence, this girl had unraveled him. After all those days on patrol with her, nothing to do except look at her when she wouldn't notice, Joel Miller had been undone.

The next day, waking up early with the stiffness in his boxers begging to be dealt with, Joel spit on his palm and wrapped it around his cock, releasing a sigh. Fuck's sake, he thought with a groan. Can't hardly get a full night's sleep anymore.

It should have annoyed him; it was certainly an inconvenience. But if it meant that he'd get to spend more time thinking about her body and her lips and her eyes when she asked those incessant questions, then so be it. He'd never sleep another wink and be glad for it.

It didn't take long for his release to come, not when the memories of her whines were so fresh in his mind. To think that he'd had her on his lap, hips squirming in that way that only she knew...it was enough to make him—"A grown fuckin' man," he reminded himself—spill into his hands and draw ragged breaths into his lungs to recover.

With an arm thrown across his face, he latched onto the image of her in the heat of ecstasy, her eyelids fluttering shut and her lips wet from constantly biting them.

For a moment, he tried to rein himself in. Can't be doin' this, he'd thought while getting ready for patrol that morning. Don't wanna take advantage of her, or fuck her up cause of my inability to control my own desires.

In reality, he'd considered, did she really know what she was getting herself into? With little more knowledge than the mechanics of reproduction, it had been evident with the events of the previous night that she knew nothing of what pleasure could be. Did he really want to be responsible for her discovery of such things?

But when he went to the stables an hour later and saw her standing in the snow with an extra twinge in her grin and her eyes sparkling despite the echoes of fatigue in her irises, every doubt dissipated immediately. He pretended not to notice the way her eyes lingered on his back when they saddled up, heading out of Jackson for the day.

Joel Miller was never one to deny a woman in need. Why should he have stopped now?

—

"How'd you sleep?"

When you looked over at him, almost shocked that he'd broken the silence, your eyebrow quirked up. "Fine," you answered.

It wasn't that this patrol had been disappointing, it was just...ever since you'd left Jackson that morning, you'd been waiting for him to look at you like he had the night before, or to even acknowledge you in the way that you could still remember him doing.

Maybe it was because Tommy was nearby at the time, or maybe he'd changed his mind after all. Maybe you'd overstepped, asking a man so much older than you to teach you all of this. Maybe it hadn't happened at all—your dreams were rather convincing these days.

If it hadn't been for those girls, hell-bent on making you feel ostracized, perhaps you wouldn't have landed yourself in this position. You probably wouldn't have had any reason to be curious about what it all meant, and you could have gone on in comfortable silence with him on your patrols.

With a heavy mind, you blew out a breath. If it hadn't been for those girls, though—you never would have known the creases that sank into the corners of his eyes when he grinned at you.

Beside you, having held back to come up shoulder-to-shoulder, Joel huffed. "Bullshit, darlin'," he scoffed, casting a sideways glance in your direction.

You tightened your hands on the reins. "Excuse me?" you said sharply.

His chuckle was a soft rumble in his chest, and you ached to feel it against your back. "I saw those sleepy eyes at the stables," he crooned, the corners of his eyes crinkling just like you remembered. "Looks like someone didn't get a good night's sleep."

"Oh, and I'm just supposed to believe you slept like a damn baby, then?" You couldn't help the incredulity in your tone, but you blushed when you noticed him smirking, his lips twitching as he fought a smile away.

"'Course not," he shook his head almost dismissively. "Couldn't tell my brain to stop conjurin' pictures of you shakin' in my lap." He adjusted the way he was seated on his horse, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was getting hard at the reminder of the memory.

You, in a similar vein, were trying to ignore the unmistakable feel of heat puddling between your legs. Keeping your eyes forward, you asked, "Is that a good thing?"

Joel nodded. "A very good thing, dollface. You were so good for me last night."

Any air that had been in your lungs left in a rush, and you put a hand to your cheek, warm despite the winter's wind. You thought you heard yourself whine at the sound of the pet name.

Thankfully, he didn't say or do anything to show that he'd noticed. Instead, he tugged his horse to a stop. "Let's get down here," he said. "Walk and talk, yeah?"

The thought of walking beside him after all that had happened the night before was enough to make you freeze in your saddle, suddenly unsure of how to get down. "Yeah," you mumbled, if only to fill the silence.

You could hear the crunch of snow under his boots as he came up beside you, thick gloved hands reaching for your waist. "C'mon, darlin'," he'd insisted, "I won't bite."

There was a note of irony in his tone, and you let him pull you from your saddle, landing in the snow in front of him. Your jacket snagged against his, and you stood there for a moment, letting your frosty wisps of breath coil and furl with his. "What do you mean?" you asked, cursing your ever-present confidence when it came to asking him questions. It seemed that you'd never learn to hold your tongue.

"Hmm?" he hummed in response. "What's what mean?" He stepped away from you to grab the reins in his hand and began to walk forward in the snow.

You shook your head and pushed on, stumbling after him. When did the snow get so deep? "You sounded rather..." you trailed off, searching for the word.

"Oh, here it comes," he mused in that serious tone, hardly covering the teasing lilt that rang clear in his eyes. "Bet you're coming up with a big word right about now, huh?"

You couldn't help it when you rolled your eyes and swatted a hand at the back of his arm. "I was going to say you sounded smug," you finished. "About how you won't bite?"

There it was again. That look of slight surprise at your questions. You waited for a few moments, the two of you trudging along in the snow, before he answered quietly. "We're jumpin' ahead of ourselves, but I s'pose it won't hurt." He shrugged. "Some people like it. Biting."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "Like it?" You looked down at your hands, covered in thick gloves. "Doesn't it hurt?"

Joel smirked. "It can," he considered, "if the person gettin' bitten wants it like that." He brushed your arm with his. "But some people don't like it at all. Just depends."

You braved a look up at his face and swallowed roughly, feeling your core pulse at the sight of his rosy cheeks. "Does it have to hurt?" You didn't mean to sound so desperate; you were just curious. "I mean, is it like...like a real bite?"

It happened so quickly that you hardly had a moment to process. Joel stopped in his tracks, pulled you near, and dipped his head down to your ear. "Don't have to," he murmured, and you were just starting to quiver at the feel of his voice next to your ear when he was brushing your hair from your neck and grazing his teeth against your skin. "Can feel good, if the person doin' the biting knows how."

You couldn't help the hand that shot out to grab his arm, as if it were the only thing that might hold you up. "I'm assuming you know how," you said thickly, eyes wandering on his weathered face. Funny, you thought at the sight of his grin, he looks quite young like this.

Joel shifted his arm so he could squeeze your hand once with his before letting it go. "Don't boost my ego too high, sweetcheeks," he warned, but you could hear the humor in his voice. "Might never let go if you do."

You knew he was kidding, but the prospect that he was being serious made your stomach flutter and forced you to clench your thighs together, bringing the forefront of your attention back to the frustration that was pooling between your legs. "Joel," you muttered in a whine, not quite realizing you'd said it until he was looking at you with a twinge of concern.

"What's up, doll?" he asked, slowing to a stop. "Somethin' wrong?"

A curly tendril of his graying hair was blown into his face with the winter wind, and you wished you could brush it away with your fingers like he'd done just moments ago. "I..." you inhaled deeply, and shifted your weight. "I'm..."

It took him a moment to understand, and when he did, his eyes sparkled. "Oh, doll," he cooed, reaching forward to tug you closer to him. "Need something', huh?"

You leaned your head forward until your forehead rested against him, breathing in the scene of pine and old leather and that heady musk that was utterly Joel. Nodding into his strong chest, you brought your hand up to his wrist and tugged it down, down, down...there.

Joel's large hand cupped the mound between your legs and you swallowed harshly as it pulsed again, begging for the sweet release he'd given you the night before. "Fuck," he breathed, the vibrations of his voice rolling against your skin. "Shoulda told me you were this bothered, baby," he hummed.

You lifted your head. "I've been trying," you said in a pitiful whine, although this wasn't entirely true, and he knew it. "Why does it...why do I ache so bad?"

His smirk quivered, and his pupils were suddenly huge as he withdrew his hand from where it covered your heat, exposing it to the frigid winter air once more. "I think we've gone far enough, don't you?" he winked. "Think we may as well head back."

The implications of what would happen when you got back to Jackson made your head spin. Nodding feverishly, you let go of the twinge of embarrassment at your eagerness. "Yes, please," you hiccuped.

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. "Good," he murmured.

—

This was the worst possible outcome.

Just when you'd worked up to exactly where you wanted to be with Joel, with his hands on you and his intentions leading you back to his house (and hopefully his couch), Tommy stopped you at the stables.

Well, not you. Not you at all, actually. He stalked up to his older brother and said, Meeting at my place, Joel."

He'd just gotten down from his saddle to help you do the same and was letting his hands linger on your waist when the interruption happened. With his hungry eyes locked on yours, he'd been leaning into your touch and hovering his hands just inches from your heat.

You could have sworn he jumped out of his skin at the sound of Tommy's voice; you just hoped it was because of his infamous hearing loss on his ride side and decidedly not because he'd been caught standing so close to you.

"We just had a meeting last week," he said gruffly, his eyes still searching yours. For what, you weren't sure—but you were quickly growing addicted to finding those rare flecks of gold buried in the espresso brown seas reflected back at you. His hands clenched involuntarily, and given the fact that they were resting around your hips, you got a delicious lick of pleasure that shot through your pelvis at the sensation.

Tommy didn't seem to be in the mood for dawdling. "And now we're having one this week," he insisted. "My place. Maria and the others are waiting."

You lifted your chin to see him close his eyes in annoyance. His mouth opened once; he closed it. When he opened it again, his eyes flashed along with the movement. "Alright, I'll be there in a minute," he said tersely, and you pretended not to notice the way his gloved thumb rubbed a slow circle on your hip. An apology, perhaps.

When he didn't move, you blushed with smug satisfaction. It had never been more clear that he didn't want to move.

"Joel, it's important." Usually, you'd never had an issue with Tommy. Now, of course, the sound of his voice clawed at your every hope for tonight.

With a soft look at your lips, Joel jerked his head to look at his brother. "I said give me a fuckin' minute," he said, his words clipped. "Fuck's sake," he muttered as he turned around. "Just answerin' a goddamn question," he finished, soft enough that you were sure his brother couldn't hear.

Tommy grumbled his fair share of disapproving words, but you couldn't help the grateful bubble that bloomed in your gut when you heard the shuffle of his boots as he left you alone in the stables with Joel.

He waited a moment or two before letting out a soft sigh. You couldn't have known how disappointed he was, but the way he lifted a hand to your cheek was clue enough. "New lesson, dollface," he said.

A pang of regret hit your stomach and you found yourself shaking your head. "Please?" you asked in a quiet voice. "I don't want a new lesson."

Joel grinned and sucked in a sharp breath. "I know, baby, I know." The familiar phrase threw you back to the night before, when he'd had his hands all over you, reassuring you with those exact words. But now, it wasn't a comfort. "But if I'm not around and you need to feel good..." His hand trailed down your cheek, brushed against your chest and returned to its previous spot between your legs. "I want you to practice touchin' yourself, yeah?"

His voice had become a near-painful whisper, just loud enough for you to feel rather than hear his words caress your skin. "This of me all you want, darlin'. God knows I'll be thinkin' of you at this damn...meeting," he practically spat the last word, but it didn't take away from the pressure that was building and causing you to blink rapidly. "Think about me," he repeated, "but I want you to explore this pretty body for me so you can tell me all about it when I get back."

The sound of his voice enveloped you, that heady sensation nearly making your knees give out. With a slow nod, you couldn't see yourself ever disobeying him. Not when he asked such sinful things of you.

"Okay," you whispered. "I'll try."

His mouth was in a hard line, his irritation at Tommy's interruption still prevalent. But it softened for a moment when he slid a gloved thumb over your bottom lip, letting it get pulled from its place before bouncing back. You darted your tongue out, wetting your lip in a desperate attempt to taste his leather on your skin; to taste him.

"Good," he said softly. Something new pulsed at the sound of his praise, but you fought it down. "I'll see you soon, doll."

—

Despite everything you tried when you got home—despite squeezing your eyes shut and picturing that dimple in Joel's cheek when he smirked, or the way his arms felt when wrapped around you—nothing helped. The pressure remained, the ache between your legs was ever-present, and yet...

You couldn't give yourself the release you craved. Not like Joel could.

There was no telling how long you tried, hand shoved down your pants in a sour attempt to replicate the feeling he'd given you. Your fingers were clumsy, untrained, and entirely new to the task, leaving you desperate and unsatisfied. A strangled whine left your throat when your mind flashed with the memory of his face near yours, his lips on your own, and his rough hands rubbing that small bud at your center. It was maddening.

He'd asked you to do this one thing, and you couldn't deliver. Of course, you'd never even realized this was a possibility; you'd only ever heard of men bringing themselves to the plummeting precipice of pleasure. You never considered that you could do the same.

But you didn't want to make yourself feel good. You wanted Joel to do it.

After what felt like hours, stuck in your house alone, Joel nowhere to be found, and with your hopes slipping into despair, you gave up. Your fingers would never be as rough or as thick as his. You didn't know how to explore your body when you couldn't tip yourself over the edge to ecstasy; it was impossible.

Weary and defeated, you went to bed with a groan. Joel still hadn't shown up. Either it was a long meeting, or...you didn't want to entertain the thought that he'd possibly forgotten about you. About your task to be completed.

You actually did drop off into a dreamless sleep, but when you woke to the sound of a knock at your door, you were almost positive the dreams had begun again. Swinging your legs out of bed, you trudged to the door with sleep oozing in every movement. The door opened with a click, and you blinked.

"Sorry I'm late, sweetcheeks," Joel breathed. A distant streetlamp, the only one in Jackson, was the sole source of light that illuminated the edges of his broad body on your porch. He looked near-angelic.

You didn't say anything for a moment, only crossed your arms to keep yourself warm in the face of the wintry outdoors. The relief and anticipation at seeing him here paired with the disappointment and fatigue that it had taken so long warred with each other, creating a dangerous mix as you managed to say, "Are you...hungry? Or something?"

He swallowed, and your head swam with the desire to lay your tongue flat on his neck where his Adam's apple bobbed. "Starving," he groaned, and in one step he was not only in your house but he was all over you, and you were wearing nothing but your thin pajamas.

He'd apparently already taken off his gloves, and when his hand came up to cup your cheek your body registered the chill of his fingers with a shock, despite leaning into his touch all the same. He took a moment to look at you before touching his forehead to yours, pressing his lips to yours gently. You could practically taste the restraint on his mouth, and you wanted nothing more than to beg him for everything.

Something about your face must have given it away when he pulled back because he tapped a finger against your cheek. "You look like you need somethin'." He darted a look down to your legs. "Did you do what I asked?"

You weren't sure what made you lie, but you nodded nonetheless. "Uh-huh."

Even in the dark, he was so close to you that you could see his eyebrow lift in question. You didn't know how he knew, but why wouldn't he? This was Joel. "You didn't come," he concluded, and you ducked your head. "Why not, dollface? I thought I told you to."

The implication that his request was, in fact, a command, didn't slip your mind. Your cheeks burned when you forced yourself to look at him. "I couldn't. I don't know how."

"Sure you do," he whispered. "You did real good last night for me, remember?" His lips ghosted your jaw.

You shook your head. "I don't know how. I've never...made myself come."

When Joel looked at you, you could have sworn his lips twitched, betraying the desire in his movements. "I'm sorry, babydoll," he cooed, bringing his other hand to your cheek. He slotted his lips over yours once more, and it was all you could do not to sink to the floor right there. "We'll have to fix that, won't we?"

You nodded. "Show me? Please?"

Without another word he bent to brush his lips across your hairline—you could have sworn you felt him inhale with his nose in your hair—and murmured, "In the morning, yeah?"

You pulled away to complain but he only gave you a soft smile. It was then that you could see the exhaustion in his face, eyes downturned despite those creases winking at you in the darkness. "But—"

"Told Tommy you need a day off," he clarified. "'Cause you're...sore..." he splayed his hand on your back and tugged you near, voice low. "Ya know, from all that horseback ridin'."

An anticipatory chuckle bubbled from your chest. "No way he bought that," you said breathlessly as he nipped your jawline with his teeth (you were almost sure it was supposed to be a kiss). "I've been patrolling on horseback for years."

Joel shrugged and looked down at you with a smirk. "Who knows? Maybe I should have told him you were waiting for me to come home and make you fall apart on my fingers," he said dismissively, but his tone did nothing to stop your stomach from flipping.

"Oh," you said dumbly, cursing yourself inwardly for how easily you were rendered speechless in his presence. "He'll...he'll really let us take the day off?" Your mind swam with the possibilities of what you could do with an entire day.

He shook his head. "Not us, darlin'. Just you." Tracing the line of your jaw, his lips twisted into a dry smirk. "I'll have to go tomorrow. But," he whispered, squeezing a hand on your hip and cocking an eyebrow at the way your legs wobbled," I'd gladly go every morning all by myself if it meant you were in your bed all day, daydreamin' about me."

It was a heavier confession that you'd expected out of him, and you let out a breathy sigh. "In the morning then," you asked. You swallowed roughly in an attempt to push down the lump of pure need that had risen in your chest, but to no avail.

Joel nodded firmly. "Trust me," he hummed, "in the morning."

So you'd led him to your bed with no more discussion. It hadn't occurred to you that he might not stay the night; he'd come to your place after the meeting like he'd said, and it was the middle of the night. Why wouldn't he have stayed the night?

Despite everything in you fighting to stay awake, the second you returned to your mattress and pulled the covers up, your eyelids drooped. Joel stood at the end of the bed and shed his jacket slowly. "Sleep, doll," he said, his voice echoing in the otherwise silent room as he bent to kick off his boots. "I'll be here when you wake up."

—

Was he getting too close? Was he pushing the boundaries too far, too soon? Probably.

Selfishly, Joel didn't much care.

—

Sure enough—when morning came, when the dull winter sunlight crept into your house and draped the floor in soft yellow, you felt the dip of your mattress beside you and betrayed Joel's presence. He'd stayed. Like he said.

Quite the dedicated teacher, you thought to yourself with a satisfied warmth. You'd felt him climb into bed last night, but despite your every wish for him to press himself to your back and hold you tightly the whole night, he'd kept at least a foot of space between your bodies. Always close enough to touch, but never giving in.

You rolled over and swiped a hand over your face, a few stray strands falling into your eyes. The breath left your chest when you saw him there, eyes open and waiting for you. "Hi," you said, your voice rough with sleep. Again with the monosyllabic responses, you scolded yourself.

Joel hummed, the deep rumble of his voice reverberating through the mattress and into your body. "Looked so sweet like that, darlin'," he mused, his rough hands tucked under his head. He reached one of them toward you and tapped your bottom lip, plump with sheep, with two of his fingertips. "Didn't wanna wake you up."

"You didn't." You weren't sure what made you do it, but you moved closer, shifting your entire body until your nose almost brushed his. Your eyes flitted up to look at the way his graying hair laid messily around the crown of his head, haircuts neglected for who knew how long. "Can we...I want to start now," you mumbled.

His jaw ticked, and he looked like he was swallowing down a grin. "Look at you," he cooed, "so eager. Aren't you hungry, doll?"

You bit your lip and you could have sworn you saw his eyes widen. "Starving," you fumbled over the word, imitating his response to you the night before on your porch.

Joel let go of a chuckle and his eyes danced with mirth. "Always turnin' my words back on me, aren't ya?" When you nodded sheepishly, he slid his hand around to cup the back of your head and he pulled you in, connecting his lips with yours. "Okay, pretty girl," he said. "We'll start. Since you asked so nicely."

His lips were chapped from the cold weather but they were still soft as he pressed them to yours, moving lazily as the two of you blinked away the last clutches of sleep. "Always so soft, these lips," he murmured, and then his hand was moving from your neck to your chest. "Everyone's different, yeah? There's these spots on everyone's body," he said, absentmindedly drawing swirls along the expanse of your chest, making you shiver. "Let's call them...pleasure points."

"Pleasure points," you repeated breathlessly, your stomach fluttering as he rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "Is that—"

He grinned with a nod. "Think I just found one of 'em, doll." He rolled you onto your back and bent his head down, his breath fanning over your chest and warming you through your thin pajama shirt. "This is how we get you all ready for me, when the time comes."

You nodded quietly and let out a shaky sigh as his hands wandered. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you practically preened at the feeling of his lips against your skin while his hands squeezed and caressed your breasts, moving over your stomach. "Joel—"

He paused, hand hovering over the hem of your shirt. "What, babygirl?"

You couldn't help the whine that fought its way out of your throat. "Please," you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut at the pressure that writhed in your core.

Joel's fingers lifted the hem of your shirt, his mouth widening in a grin at the way that your stomach rose and fell in spattered pants. "Come on, darlin'," he crooned, "open those pretty eyes for me. Gotta see you, doll."

It was all you could do not to take his hand in your own and shove it to your core where you needed him desperately, but you did as he asked.

"That's it, baby," he breathed, good girl."

You'd become familiar with the way your stomach clenched at his use of pet names, but this was new. You had done well for him. You wanted to stay that way. "Will you touch me please? I need—"

"So eager," he murmured, leaning in with his lips to your earlobe. "Lemme take my time with you, dollface." And then his lips were wrapping to the soft part of your ear, his teeth grazing at your skin. Paired with this sensation and the heady feeling of his hand on your waistband, fumbling to push his hand beneath it, you arched your back and released a series of high-pitched whines.

"JoelJoelJoelpleasepleaseplease," you were overcome with the pure, unbridled need that was speeding through your body like a tidal wave on a summer day.

"Alright, darlin', alright," he acquiesced, pushing his hand into your waistband and pulling it down over your hips. You didn't even have the mind to be shy about being laid bare to him this way; you just needed him to touch you.

Before you could beg him again, he had his fingertip on your core, sliding it gently through your slick heat. "Oh, baby," he groaned, rutting his hips against your side. His bulge pressed into your hip and you flexed your fingers to reach for it. "M'never gettin' used to how wet you are for me," his voice shook.

One finger became two, and then his fingertips were rubbing sweet circles to your sensitive bud, drawing near pornographic moans to tumble past your lips. "Can I touch you, please?" you begged, your hand fisting your bedsheets. "Wanna touch you, Joel, please."

He hummed against your ear as he swiped another finger against your bud and lifted your hand to his lips. "Sure thing, doll," he said, and placed it in his hair. Your fingers instinctually carded through the coarse strands, and you blushed when his eyes fluttered closed. "Hold on tight if you need to, pretty girl," he grinned, and lemme know if it's too much."

You were going to ask if what was too much, but then he dipped his finger further down your core, notching it at the small opening. You hadn't even thought this far ahead, that things would eventually lead here. Something pulsed and you whined, tugging his hair in your hand.

"Look at you, so ready for me," he murmured against your neck. His tongue swept out to lick a small stripe along the sensitive skin there and when you let out a stuttering breath he chuckled. "You are ready for me, aren't ya, pretty girl?"

You couldn't nod fast enough. "Please," you choked out, and then he was pressing his finger inside you.

It was a small intrusion, but overwhelming all the same. In all your years, you'd never had the thought that it could feel this good to have him close to you like this. He was only as far as the first knuckle, but with the way that his bulge was nudging your hips, he wanted much more. "Good girl," he breathed, "such a good girl, openin' your legs like this."

"Wanna touch you," you whimpered again, vision blurring with the desperation that coursed through your veins. "Please, Joel, let me touch you."

He kissed you, but you could hardly focus enough to move your lips against his. "Already touchin' me," he said. "You want more?"

"Yes," you nodded feverishly, releasing your hand from his hair. "I wanna..." you looked down at his bulge and licked your lips.

Joel's eyes were wide as he whispered, "For fuck's sake, darlin', when you're cryin' about it..." he swiped a thumb across your cheeks, collecting a teardrop you hadn't even known was there. "How could I say no?"

Thankyouthankyouthankyou were the only words in your mind, a jumbled mess as you reached for him. Your finger traced his length and before you knew it, you were reaching inside his boxers to release it from its constraints. "Holy fuck," you whined, bucking your hips into his hand as you saw just how big he was, long and thick and heavy in your hand. "Need it," you found yourself whispering. "Need you."

It was all you could do before he pushed his finger further, then out, and then in, just enough to throw you closer to that addicting edge of ecstasy. Once again, you found yourself enveloped in the thick pressure of pure desire in his arms.

He pressed the pad of his thumb to your bud and swirled circles in your heat, his lips connecting to your ear once more. "Alright, baby. Alright, baby," he practically chanted in a low tone, nibbling on your lobe just hard enough to pinch the skin. "C'mon now, squeeze my finger like that, that's it," he groaned, drawing out the final two syllables, "good girl."

With his hand in the crux of your legs and his mouth connected to your ear, whispering the filthiest things you'd ever heard in your sheltered life, you threw your head back into the pillow and curled your legs toward him, your hand squeezing his cock tightly as you continued your strokes.

The sounds that erupted from your throat as you burst in a state of pure pleasure were the most pitiful (and yet electrifying) noises you'd ever heard yourself make, and you couldn't help but continue rolling your hips into his hands, chasing the feeling until it became more intense and your legs began to twitch again. "Joel," you mewled, voice breaking, "I need you."

A teasing chuckle sounded, and your cheeks warmed as he removed his hand from your slick. "So much you don't know, dollface," he crooned, tracing his index down the line of your nose. He pushed another, shining with your release, into your mouth. The sweetness nearly made you fall apart again. "Don't know if you're ready for that."

Your body was on fire, nearly throbbing with the insatiable need to be wrapped in his arms, with his hands everywhere, his lips anywhere. Your hand had been moving on his shaft, but his hips stuttered with your next words. "I am," you insisted, "I need you, please. I wanna feel you everywhere."

Joel's pupils went wide and he shuddered out a breath, mumbling a string of curses with his eyes shut. He thrusted his hips into your hand and then your skin was sticky and warm with his own release, some of it landing on your stomach where you lay beside him.

"Shit," he groaned with a rueful smirk. "Maybe I'm not ready for that yet." His breath fanned deliciously over your skin as he continued. "Can't hardly last long enough with the thought of stretching you out like that, baby."

You grinned, and you didn't mind the fact that he could definitely see the flush in your cheeks. "No?"

He shook his head. "Fuck no. I don't wanna think about how quickly I'll come if I were to be inside that pretty pussy yet," he said with a short and gentle tap to your mound. When your hips arched off the mattress and you whined at the sensitivity, he cooed apologetically.

"Isn't that a good thing?" you frowned slightly. "I thought I was making you feel good."

"Makin' me feel too good," he mused, bringing his hand up to hold your face toward him once more. He winked. "Can't have me comin' before you do, sweet girl. Not very gentlemanly of me."

You couldn't help the pang of doubt that clouded your face, and it must have been obvious, because then he was cupping the back of your head and pulling you to his chest. Humming into your neck, he smirked. "Besides, I want to be able to take my sweet time with you. To see you squirmin' beneath me like you do, baby? S'enough to make the pope leave the goddamn church."

tysm for reading, i can't believe you guys convinced me to write MORE filth for these two. u made it to the end, lemme know what you thought!

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cupcakeinat0r · 5 days

Text

Your loser, Middle-aged Genetics professor with a dadbod <3

pt. 6

The semester is almost over, and finals are just around the corner. Miguel and you had been tutoring students for test prep. Your help was greatly appreciated by Miguel, cutting his work basically in half, and he sees that you were good at it, too. It seems that paying attention in his class the whole year paid off. Granted, Miguel was fine as hell, so you never wanted to miss class.

You had to be honest, though, when you volunteered yourself to be Miguel’s little TA, you didn’t think it’d be this difficult. Is this what Miguel went through? For five years? Damn. Poor baby probably hasn’t had a good night’s sleep since he started this job. You didn’t know how he did it, and it’s only been your third day of tutoring.

Not to mention that some students were, and you hate to admit it… incompetent. There were moments where you had to refrain from making certain faces toward students who acted like they hadn’t been to a single class of Miguel’s. But because you were so kind and patient, you sat with those few and made sure they left that hour feeling prepared for their final. Now you understood why Miguel’s temper was a bit short. Yours would be too if you had to deal with students who never put in any effort. Of course, some classmates also knew as much as you did, only needing the sessions for review.

Aside from tutoring, you and Miguel’s relationship was evolving. Your heated kiss in the lecture hall has been on Miguel’s mind non-stop, replaying the scene over and over again as a bedtime story for the past week. He couldn’t believe that his dreams were coming true. You had him whipped. That one kiss was what broke the dam, and now, Miguel was unleashing kisses on you. He’d sneak one in at every opportunity he had. Every little interaction would go something like this:

Say you were on your way to a session with a classmate, it’s early in the morning, the hall is empty, and no one is around other than Miguel who you consequently pass by as he leaves his private office. The scowl on his face immediately softens when he sees you, all done up pretty like always.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He still sounds as if he’s just woken up, his velvety timbre filling the quiet hall. It felt like you were Juliet and he was Romeo, forbidden lovers meeting in secret.

“Oh! Professor O’Hara-“A small squeal leaves your lips when he pulls you into his embrace, his brawny arms enveloping you completely. You giggle into his chest, your hands snaking up his soft belly and around toward his back, where they almost touch. “Calmate, mama, no one’s around,” he whispers into your hair, pressing a sweet kiss there. You breathe in and smell a manly musk from the fabric of his turtleneck. You had to lift your head from his chest or else Miguel would not stop kissing you all over. It was like there was no ‘off’ button, there was only ‘on’ when it came to you,

“Miguel, I’m already running late, they’re waiting for me!” You loudly whisper, only half-trying to push him away since he felt so warm and soft, but you really did need to go.

“Lo siento, mamita, but how can I resist when you look like this? Can you blame a guy?” He steps back and raises your hand to twirl you like a princess. You smiled bashfully, your cheeks going red. He was so corny and he knew it, slightly cringing at his own effort to be “cool”. It made you laugh because he would NEVER act this way in front of anyone. Anyone except you. He smiled, laughed, and made cheesy remarks only for you. God, you needed this grumpy dork.

“Migggg, stop it, I really need to go!” You softly laugh, covering your cheesy smile.

“Nunca, preciosa,” His voice is low when he pulls you back in, “But alright… how ‘bout a kiss before you go?” and with a smile, you get on your tip toes, and Miguel lifts you into a tender kiss, and when he kisses you, he breathes you in. It’s like you’re his life supply when he kisses you.

Just when you thought the kiss was over and you were about to be on your way, he didn’t let go of your hand. You look back, and you’re met with those damned puppy dog eyes, “Wait, one more? Please?” He was so pathetic, but how could you tell him no? Of course, you wouldn’t, so you come back and give him another deep kiss.

Once you two pull away, his forehead remains on yours and he whispers, “Otra mas? Porfa?” He coos. “I thought you said one more?” You teased his adorable pleading, but you took his chin with both hands and kissed him anyway.

Two more kisses turned to three, four, five, six… and Miguel wouldn’t stop; “One more?”, “Okay, now one more.”, “Another one.”, “Otro besito…”, “no, not yet, one more, one more”, “mkay, last one.”, “wait wait wait, one more…” and the two of you broke into soft laughs as he kept asking for more kisses, you slowly trying to pull away as you were passed late now. With each step back you took, Miguel would step closer, keeping your body against his with his bulky arms. The once silent hallway was now filled with quiet, giddy laughter as Miguel attacked you with pecks. There was something so innocent about it all, the harmony between your high-pitched giggles and his low chuckles, accompanied by the continuous smacking of his lips on yours in a peaceful, early morning within the high-ceiling school walls.

“Miguel O’Hara, please!” You snap at him, still in a whisper, but you both just laugh. “Okay, okay, fine,” he finally lets go of you, watching you leave with a content smile,” I’ll see you later? Don’t leave without passing by, please,” you smile back at the buff nerd and his concern for you. “I will! I promise!” You scurry down the hall to meet with the student who’s probably wondering where you’ve been. Miguel doesn’t step back into his office until you’re out of sight, his mind still a little foggy from the interaction.

If someone had told him at the beginning of the year that the grad student who always showed up in the cutest outfits, sat front row, and always gave him the prettiest, lip glossed smile would requite his feelings, he would laugh at their face (or simply just stare menacingly at them, more like). When he chose to settle down and take this job, he would’ve never thought he’d find you. You were that something he didn’t know he needed.

You might’ve bitten off more than you can chew. By fault of your sweet nature, you decided to take in a few extra students, which left you in the library hours later, your forehead on your forearm, a bit of drool pooling on the table, and snoring. Miguel had been doing some tutoring as well, though, he finished earlier than you and started doing some other collegiate duties. It was unknown to him that you did this, so he thought it was strange when you didn’t come by for that long. He knew you wouldn’t have left without saying anything, so he began to grow worried as hours went by. He made his way down to the lecture hall, but there was no sign of you there. He immediately started thinking the worst, a million different horrid explanations running through his mind as he picked up his pace through the hallway.

His heart eased when he saw your sleeping form in the library, the only light coming from the aged lamps on each of the tables, but the relief is short-lived once he realizes how long you’ve been working and how tired you must’ve been to fall asleep sitting like that. Making sure to be quiet as there were still two or three other students there, Miguel walked towards you, faintly smiling at your snoring.

“Mama… Mamita…” he whispers, nudging your back gently, waking you up. Your eyes, blinking continuously, adjust to the dim lighting of the library and you make out the large figure beside you. It’s your sweet, darling professor.

“Mph… huh?” you stretch your arms above your head, letting out a yawn, “Oh my God, sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you say with a tired chuckle, your eyes still adjusting.

“Mama, what are you apologizing for? Ugh, I should’ve come to check on you sooner.” He sat beside you, but then one of the students quickly hushed him, giving him a dirty look for interrupting their study sesh. He raised his hand mouthing ‘sorry’.

"Did you need something?" you softly asked him, not wanting to be hushed as well, and he just replied by intertwining his long, girthy fingers with yours under the table where no one could see. "Nothing, mamita, however, I need you to go home. You weren’t supposed to stay so late.” He tuts, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles like he always did. He already didn’t like that you were tutoring on top of your own schoolwork, the only reason why he let you help in the first place being that you wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Oh, Miguel, always worrying about everyone but yourse-” You were cut off by another hush by the same irritated student. You both looked back at them, Miguel looking back with a scowl this time. He looked like he was about to say something, but you pulled away his attention with a sheepish smile, “Maybe we should go talk somewhere else.” You whisper. Taking your advice, he stood with you and followed you to a more private section of the library.

Settling in a small nook area where the two of you are surrounded by shelves of books, you sat on the floor, Miguel following shortly after. “So, care to explain why you’re still here?” He speaks while finding a comfortable position.

You both lay against the shelf, your head tilted upward as you respond, “I just figured I could help a couple more students, is all. I guess it was after I finished with the last student and started studying for my other classes was when I knocked out.” Miguel lifts his arm so that he can wrap it around you, offering a cushion between you and the hardwood of the shelves.

“Do you ever not study?” he raises a brow, but you’re quick to retaliate, “Do you ever not work?” You both chuckle. “Touché.”

“How do you do it?” you ask.

“What do you mean?” You lay your head on his shoulder. “You basically run this entire department on your own. All I’ve done was tutor for a couple of days and look where that got me.” Miguel chuckles at this. “I know sometimes it may not seem like it, but in all honesty, I love what I do, and you’ve gotta give yourself more credit than that, mama. You’ve truly been amazing, sweetheart. Always have been.”

“Well,” you snuggle into him a little more, relishing in his natural warmth that rivals the library’s cold air, “You helped.” Miguel returns the gesture by wrapping his arm tighter around you, sensing that you are becoming cold. “We helped each other, how ‘bout that.” you look up and smile at him, your cheek against the soft fabric of his cable-knit sweater (that fits juuust right on him).

“Speaking of which, what’s this class you’re studying for?” you sit up straight and let out a tired sigh. “It’s another lecture,” you grab a hefty textbook from your bag beside you, letting Miguel take a look at it, “On top of creating a thesis, I have to memorize all of this.” He looks through his glasses that are hanging low on his nose and skims over the material.

“How much of this have you memorized?” he still looks at the pages. “About half maybe.”

“Let’s fix that.” he sat up straight, positioning the book to where you can’t see its contents. “What’re you doing?” you’re suspicious of Miguel, knowing very well that he should be going home and not staying to help you study for a class that he didn’t even teach.

“I’m helping,” he clears his throat, “Which years did the ‘Modernist’ era in English literature begin and end? Please provide a short explanation of what catalyzed this period-” You ignore his question, attempting to take the book. “Miguel, you’ve done enough for today, you should be going home!” but he doesn’t let you have it.

“Mama, I just found you dead asleep while sitting up. You were gonna stay either way. I’d much rather be here so you don’t pass out again n’ make sure you get home safe. Please?”

He’s literally the most perfect man ever. The person currently sitting in front of you just left his office doing whatever important task he usually occupies himself with to check up on you and is willing to stay here until you feel ready for your final. You’re convinced he’d do anything for you, and you’re right in thinking so.

“Fine,” You’re beginning to realize how hard it actually is to say ‘no’ to Miguel, but you know Miguel was a bit of a pushover when it came to you as well, so you guess it’s alright, “But I feel like there should be some sort of incentive, though… some motivation.” you cheekily smile.

Miguel’s eyes shift above his lenses, intrigued by your proposition. “How ‘bout this. Every time I get something wrong… you get a kiss.” He chuckles. “Alright, and I’m guessing if you get it correct, then I should reward you with a kiss, right?” he says matter-of-factly, making you smile again. You were hoping he’d suggest something like this.

He’d ask a question, you’d answer, and depending on if you got it right, Miguel would give you a kiss, or if you got it wrong, you “had” to give him a kiss (not much of a punishment, to be frank). You didn’t even wait for him to finish asking you a test question at times, you would just give him a tender kiss on the cheek just because. Some kisses, though, Miguel would get distracted, taking it from an innocent peck to a heated, handsy kiss, and reluctantly, you’d get him back on the task at hand. It got to the point where you ended up seated between his legs, and you'd start getting all these answers correct, so Miguel would plant kisses on your neck, sucking on the skin there. They would surely leave hickeys for the next day, but you didn’t care.

With your back against his hard chest and tummy, it was very hard to not delve into both of your fantasies. It was when Miguel began faintly bucking his hips against yours, his hardness expanding as he got blinded by lust again. "Miguel! Not here!” you'd whisper, and Miguel would groan in defeat. Trust, if you two weren’t in public, you would’ve let him do anything and everything he was thinking about doing to you.

That, having to stay quiet, and making sure no one was coming, it all made it feel like you were both teenagers again who were out later than they should be, laughing and shushing each other.

The incentive being kisses actually worked in the sense that it kept you up, so not only was it an excuse to make out in the library, but it did technically help you memorize…

An hour or so passes by and you’ve gotten to the point where you know everything you need to for your final, but you didn’t want your time with Miguel to quite just end yet. You don’t know if it was the making out or what but you were suddenly wide awake now.

Miguel is about to test you on a topic one more time when he sees your eyes wandering the shelves, “You like to read, Mig? Just curious.” You look up at him. You were too tired to care whether or not you looked presentable enough for him, but he thought you looked absolutely adorable like this. Your hair lost its volume, your lip gloss was no longer shiny, and your mascara was a bit smudged from when you fell asleep earlier, but he found it so endearing. He wouldn’t have minded waking up to the sight every day for the rest of his life.

He closes the textbook, taking this as your way of ending the study session, “Yeah, I like it. I’ll read recreationally when I have the time.” He chuckled, looking at you like you were the only source of light on the planet. You shifted your head from where it rested against his arm and laid down on the floor, your head now resting against his soft stomach like a pillow. Your gaze focused on his hand that was now in yours. Your soft touch brushes against his more calloused, warm skin, playing with his fingers as you speak.

“What do you like to read? Fiction? Non-fiction? Give me details.” You continue to fiddle with his fingers.

He starts to play with your hair with his free hand, moving any on your face, “Hm… I tend to gravitate toward non-fiction. You?"

"Anything romantic for sure," it doesn't take you even a second to answer, "Ever since I was a little girl, I always envisioned myself in those fairytale stories. Princesses, royal balls, a prince charming..." your eyes glanced up at him when you mentioned princes, and his smile grew.

"Oh, yeah?" He smirked, his brow raised. "Mhm. I kinda feel like I’m in one right now, actually.” His cheeks darken at this, licking his lips as he looks away to hide them. “Has anyone ever told you how handsome your smile is?” You add on, making him melt furthermore. He honestly can’t believe you’re saying all this about him. Miguel was usually the man that always knew what to say, but romance? Not his field of expertise, and much less when it came to you.

“Not really, no. Don’t show it much these days.” He looks back down at you, completely smitten by the angel currently lying in his lap.

“Well you should do it more often, it looks nice on you.” You’re not sure what came over you. It was so easy to praise him and watch him become goo from your words and touch.

“Then maybe I should spend more time with you.” Now it was your turn to be bashful. “I make you smile, huh?”

“Quite frequently in fact. It’s ruining my reputation, makin’ me go soft.” You chuckle along with him. “Just face it, you’re my big, scary teddy bear.” Miguel’s heart skips when you say ‘my’. As much as his past self would’ve hated being called that, he loved the possessiveness in it. He was truly yours, since the beginning. “Only if you’ll be the princess I protect.” You smile like an idiot. You hated him (you wanted him so bad).

“This actually reminds me of a certain story...” He ponders on a specific story, one that brings old memories. A faint smile grows on his plush lips.

“Oh, yeah? Mystery, sci-fi, romance…?” you say romance with a badly executed French accent, making him chuckle, “Eh… maybe it’s a romance…” He says with a growing smile.

“Awe, I knew it, ya big softy. Which one?” You two began discussing your favorite romantic books. Turns out Miguel is a bit of a hopeless romantic himself, though, he’d never reveal that to anyone. You feel compelled to get up and search for your favorite book from the shelves surrounding you, which you both end up doing. Once you’ve found y’all’s respective books, you both return to the same position on the floor, but Miguel’s mood makes a shift. There’s a moment when Miguel’s spirit seems to die down, and you catch it. He looks down at the book with somber eyes. He flips through its pages, his brows furrowed and eyes narrow. “You alright, Miguel?”

Miguel clears his throat. “I’m fine. Um...” He thinks about what he’s about to say and whether he should even share it. There’s a beat between the two of you.

“What’re you thinking about?” You can see the gears in his head turn.

“Nada, mamita, I’m fine.” He lies. He looks at you with a weak smile, but his eyes say differently.

“Anything you have to say is important to me.” You give his hand a small squeeze. “Please?”

He squeezes back your hand and kisses your wrist. Miguel then worked up the courage to share something he hadn’t told anyone in what felt like years. Sure, his two closest coworkers knew about it, but that’s about it. Miguel didn’t have many, if at all, true friends outside of his work, but he felt you could be trusted. He felt that comfortable with you. Your softness tore down his tough walls.

You learn that he had a daughter. Her name was Gabriella. He mentions how much she loved playing sports, being outside in the park, and how much she loved it when he read to her. The book currently in his hand was what she would pick almost every night. He’d read it in different voices for each character, making the story come alive for his precious little girl. No matter how many times he read it to her, she listened as if it were the first time. Seeing the little smile on her face made all the fatigue from work melt away. That’s why he chose it as his favorite book.

He lost Gabriella to what he described as an ‘incident’, but you didn’t urge him to say anything more than what he was comfortable with, respecting his boundaries.

“Sometimes, I’ll come back to this book and it almost feels like she’s here again.” He opens the book to the first page. Its cover and spine were intricate, the title reading ‘Beauty and The Beast’.

He branched away from the book for a moment and began to go on and on about what Gabriella was like upon your request to know a little more about her, and instantly, his mood lifted. He speaks about her kindness, intelligence, curiosity, and her extensive imagination. He spoke about her favorite foods (sweets, of course) and even the foods she wasn’t a big fan of. He talked about their post-soccer game rituals of getting ice cream and how they would spend their mornings together eating their favorite cereal before school. With the way he spoke about her, a ball started to form in your throat. It was evident that he loved being a dad. You didn't think you could fall for Miguel harder than you already did until now.

Maybe that was why he was so hard on everyone in his class; maybe it was simply the paternal desire to see your pupils do their absolute best and succeed. It made you sad because this meant that not only has Miguel been alone for all these years, but he’s been alone on account of losing someone he loved so dearly. His precious daughter. And to you, that’s even worse.

You wanted to say how sorry you were for his loss, but you figured he’d heard that millions of times. You wanted to say something that actually meant something.

“Gabriella sounds like a wonderful person,” You say with a small smile. Miguel looks at you, not really expecting a response like that, “And If you were the one raising her, then I know for sure she was absolutely wonderful.”

“She was. Thank you.” Miguel looks down at you, you both sharing a quiet moment. “She would’ve really liked you.” He says softly, looking down at his lap where you were. His thumb caresses your cheek, making you smile even wider.

“Yeah?” You try to hold back any tears. This had to be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to you. “Yeah.”

The moment is so sweet and so soft and it felt so nice to be able to just relish in the small silences with him. And when you spoke, your voices were barely above whispers. “She would’ve thought you were a real-life princess for sure. I know I do.” You blush at this, Miguel’s hand on your face only adding more heat to your rosy cheeks.

“Well, I think I would’ve really liked her, too. I wish we could’ve met.” You place your hand on top of his. Despite you also feeling saddened by this, there’s still a sense of gentle positivity in your voice.

“Me too.” Miguel’s face softens at your response, scenarios playing in his head. Moments between you and his daughter. What life could’ve been like had his daughter still been here to interrogate you as soon as she had the chance, and then just as quickly become your #1 fan. He’s quiet when he’s thinking about this, and you feel the urge to hug him.

You sit up from his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, Miguel’s face buried into the crook of your neck. “Thank you for sharing that with me.” You whisper in his ear before kissing his head. You rub his back with your other hand, feeling his breathing deepen.

Miguel lifts his head to look straight at you as if to admire you, “Thanks for listening.” You can’t help but pepper kisses all over his face: forehead, nose, cheeks, eyelids, and Miguel feels like he’s in heaven. At last, he takes your face in both hands and kisses you on the lips. No other dialogue needed, the two of you sit in peaceful silence again, literally just appreciating each other’s existence. The moment is interrupted by the opening of a door in the distance. Surely a night-time guard.

“Y’know… we can get in an awful lot of trouble if we’re seen together like this.” You break the silence with a whisper. The teenage-like ambiance returns, winning a smirk from Miguel. “I know. I guess I just can’t bring myself to care right now.” His eyes trail all over your face, landing on your lips. He kisses you again, his lips descending to your neck and his hands squeezing the flesh of your butt. Ticklish and breathless, you begin giggling, ‘Miguel!” but he doesn’t stop, “Miguel O’Hara! What if they see us!” you whisper.

“Mm, like it when you say my full name.” he muffles into your neck. “Miguel!” you laugh again, trying to push him off. “Take me home! We have class tomorrow!” is what finally stops him. He may or may not have let the heat of the moment get the best of him. “Yeah,” He runs his hand through his hair and fixes his glasses, “You’re right, you’re right.” He stands up, offering you a hand. Without making it look suspicious, you both walk past the guard as well as a few students (who were either passed out or too deep in their downward spiral of an all-nighter).

Miguel drives you home in something you didn’t expect a college professor would be able to afford. He had his hand on your thigh the whole way, but not before he asked if that was okay, to which you happily granted. The entire car ride, Miguel had you smiling, blushing, laughing at his dated jokes. You were so sad when he pulled up to your place, still not wanting the night to end even though you were tired out of your mind.

“Thank you for taking me home, my knight in shining armor.” You lean over, puckering your lips as you wait for a kiss. “Of course, Princesa, anything for you.” You both share probably the billionth kiss of the day before he speaks again. “See you tomorrow bright n’ early?” you nod, letting out a soft ‘yeah’. “Alright, get some rest, beautiful. And don’t be late.” he playfully enters professor mode for the last sentence, and you play along. “Of course, Professor O’Hara. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Miguel kisses you again and bites your lip, the tension rising once again. “Mm, that’s one you haven’t called me in a while.” You giggle from how easy it is for you to excite Miguel, your absolute loser of a professor, but he’s your loser, and that’s all that matters. You feel his hand snake to your inner thigh, his tongue making its way down your throat, “Mm—Don’t get any ideas, mister, you should head home and get your sleep as well.” He lets out a defeated huff, “ay, Mamita, can’t keep doing that t’me…”

As much as you also wanted to be there with him, having him bounce you on his lap or taking it in the backseat, you also didn’t want for Miguel or yourself to miss class the next morning. Miguel agrees, sharing the very last, tender kiss of the night before finally saying goodnight to each other. You close the car door behind you and say one last thing through the window, “We should do this again. It was nice.” Miguel smiles at you, promising you he’ll take you to the public library one of these days.

In exchange for more kisses, that is. Or perhaps more.

a/n: Haiiiiii, I hope you enjoyed <3 He's so cute n needy ur honor!! He simply just wants to be held!! I have 5k ish words to prove it!!! (So sorry omfg)

Want more Dadbod!Miguel? Here's my masterlist, bae! <3

<3 Tags <3

@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi i @hyjionie @maomaimao @pomakori @pinkhelados @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow @hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @cl3stevu @mintssanctuary @ghost-lantern @snails-doodles22 @love4saturn @sukunash0e @tinythebunni

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tamayakii · 5 months

Text

Fathers Love

notes: honestly i went in so hard without a plan this kinda fell through so I'm so sorry if it sucked, i wrote this in like, an hour with no beta reader or breaks. Sorry homies, this is all u get until i get more inspo <3 tags: @inuyasha330 warnings: angst, daddy daughter angsty, the way i was tempted to make this emotionally incesty but i DIDNT- thank me for that. anyways, dives over the pier.

The atmosphere felt thick around you, sitting in an unfamiliar environment. Your only comfort was your older brother but even then he felt distant, you saw the stars of the galaxy and more; you saw things that amazed you.

“So this is what I missed out on?” whispering to him, when you had gotten your powers he had offered you a trip through the stars but you had rejected it; terrified of the powers granted to you through your DNA.

Days before the incident in Chicago, your father had forced you to get a superhero suit when he found out that you too were blessed with the viltrumite powers, promising that he too would train you as he did Mark but; that no matter what you were still his little girl.

You were always his little girl, when you came into this world Nolan had shed the first tears he ever would shed; he was so fearsomely protective of you. Never letting you go out alone, finally seeing the purpose of the backpack leashes marketed towards parents, always always kept you close to him. Growing up he was your hero, he was your everything.

Now the suit feels uncomfortably tight with the memory of his words when he saw it on you for the first time, “just like me” he said, back then it was a compliment but now it was your fear.

“Yeah.. it’s amazing. Isn’t it?” Mark replied in turn, looking at you. There’s a pause before he puts his hand on your shoulder, “it’s gonna be okay.” he answers, you want to believe him. You wanted to but your gut told you otherwise but you stifled it. “I hope so.”

The rest of the flight passed by quickly, with sleeping and eating orange-coloured goo there wasn’t much else to do besides daydream. After a while; all the stars looked the same, passing you by like blurs.

You wondered about where your father went, leaving Chicago a mess, beating your brother to near death- Leaving the world without a word to you or your mother. How many stars away was he? You were left no time to wonder before Nuolzot announced your arrival, waking your brother up.

The skies were pink turning into blue, and purple buildings and large arches decorated the sandy planet. The spaceship hummed as it slowly landed, a horde of blue bug people awaited your arrival.

Cautiously you followed Mark, so close that you were practically his shadow. While he stared in wonderment, you looked for the meteor showers that were supposedly destroying the planet, but there was no sign of them. Only clear skies, no orange fiery balls of death. You held onto Mark's forearm, your gut twisting as Nuolzot took you further from the ship.

“Wait, what exactly about this planet needs saving? Where are the meteors?” Mark questions, you let out a small breath. So he noticed too, you stared at the alien from behind Mark. Face twisting when he answers, forgetting about his own planet's demise that he had cried out about in your backyard before finding your brother at college.

Mark stopped, “The ones that kill billions?” He questions slowly. Stepping in a way that covered you from Nuolzot, as if he was gonna attack as an answer to Mark. But only to leave you two in confusion about his answer,

“The Monarch will explain all.” You begin to wonder who the Monarch was, what it was. Was there no one else to help this planet? Why come all this way when there must be nearby planets that could help?

“Your Majesty!!” The alien calls out, pulling you out of your thoughts, “May I present, Invincible and His sibling, Of Earth!” You and Mark stammer before bowing, figuring it was the most respectful thing to do.

“Hello, Kids.” Shock runs through you like a viper, making your heart drop and your limbs go numb. “It’s been a while.” Your bottom lip quivers and you look up- Dad. There he is, tears fill your lash line as you rack your head for answers,

“Dad?” Marks voice sounds like the wind, moving farther away. Your brows further, shaking your head as you watch Mark approach him. Memories of childhood and happiness flood through you like a dam broken, the love for your father washes over you before something else hits you. Anger, Despair, Sadness.

It was like looking the devil in the eye, the same one that had killed thousands. Your fists clench as you step back, lowering your head as you gaze at him through your eyelashes. Body quivering with the amount of power it takes to not scream at him, to hit him, to ask him why he ruined everything.

And Mark hugs him. He fucking hugs him. It’s like a knife in your heart, biting your lip so hard you taste the iron in your blood. The longer their embrace goes, the longer your heart squeezes. Emotions wrap around you like an old friend amidst the eye of a hurricane, words become distant as you remember all of the pain he put you through, put your mother. Your brother.

You’re brought back to reality when Marks hand touches your shoulder, Nolans eyes catching yours making you flinch from his gaze. “Guess they don’t know you like we do… Fuck you.” Thats the last word your brother says before he takes off, for a few seconds you look back at him. The man that is your father, he goes to reach out; mouth opening and you take off just like Mark. Catching up to him, tears being blown away by the harsh oncoming wind.

But despite all that, he catches up to you; “you’ll never make it home on your own!” You speed up, leaving Mark and Nolan behind. You wanted your silence to hurt him, to cut him deeper than he cut you but it wasn’t possible because he made a hole in your heart.

Mark catches back up to you and Nolan follows again, bargaining with Mark. Promising a ship back home, that Nuolzot wasn’t lying. That they do need help. You let out a yell of frustration; can’t they leave you alone? If you had to fly back to earth on your own you will.

You keep flying, even when Mark doesn’t follow anymore. You keep going until you feel your body adjust to the lack of oxygen, till your tears float in the endless void of space.

“Wait! Wait up!” You stop at your brother's voice, lips quivering. “Please. Wait.”

“Look.. just five minutes-” He bargains “What?! No! Absolutely not! I- No! Are you insane?!” You push him away, but he floats back, angering you more. He grabs your forearms,

“Just five minutes is all. Is there is actual trouble; then we’ll help them out. If not, we can leave. It’s just five minutes.” Mark explains, his dark eyes are wide and begging.

“..fine. But i’m not saying anything to him.” Mark nodded, before pressing his forehead against yours. “That’s okay,” he answers gently before flying with you beside him.

“Five minutes.” Mark orders, Nolan looks at you but you don’t look at him,

“don’t you wanna say anything to me?” Nolan asks- arms out in defeat. He expected this, expected hatred, expected yelling or anything. Anything but silence. He hated silence. Especially from his little girl, that hurt him the most. Both you and Mark flew down to the civilization in response, following Nolan through the building. Mark and him made small talk- more like argued.

You spaced out, trying to bide back the pain that holds you tight, you look up to see another bug alien approach your father and kiss him. Your mouth flies open; Words are exchanged but they’re tuned out.

Seconds feel like hours, Nolan walks to a crib and realisation hits you hard. You feel sick, he made a new family. You’ve been replaced. You’re not his little girl anymore, you were nothing to him. Bile rises through your throat,

“I’m gonna be sick” You shout, turning and sprinting out the door to barf into a potted plant, Mark storms out afterwards and Nolan goes chasing, his bug mate as well. “Oh dear- are you okay?” She asks, holding the baby in one arm and the other rubbing your back. You feel bad, normally you would be thankful for any pity when you barf but now her touch makes you wanna scream. Shrugging her off, you sneer at her before storming off as well.

You see your father and brother, rage making you see red. “What I did on Earth was..” Your fist connects with Nolans jaw as he speaks but it only makes him stumble a bit.

“Fuck you! Just fuck you!! You get to come to earth and make a family- make us love you as if you loved us and then you fuck off to make a new one!?” You cry out, your voice breaking from the strain on your vocal cords. Nolan rubs his jaw, his eyes hold anything but anger, but youre blind to it.

“Please... It’s not what you think.” He pleads, holding his hands out. You slap them away and push him,

“You put me into this fucked up world! You promised me you’d never leave me and look what you did! You left me! You almost killed Mark! Mom cries every night and i don’t know what to do with myself!” You hit his chest, “you said i was your little girl but you left and made a new family like we were nothing! Well fuck you!” You hit his chest over and over again, to no avail.

“Please. Listen.” He grabs your wrists, “You have to listen. You and your brother need to help these people; if not, viltrumite will kill them. They already know i left my post.” Tears roll down your cheeks, and you lean your head back and thrust into his nose.

“Post!? We were just some fucking post to you!? Why do you care about them? Why not us? What about me!?” Headbutting him made no difference, you struggle in his grip. The sight of his babygirl crying broke him; he was supposed to protect you and all he did was hurt you.

“Look i.. I needed you and your brothers' help. They’re good people. We need to save them”

“What about me dad? What about me? Where were you when i needed saving?” your words fall more gently, and you press your forehead on his chest. You wanted to be his little girl again; giggling in his arms as he swung you around.

“I promise, we can talk about all of this soon. But you have to help me save these people.”

And like the little girl who did anything for her daddy's approval, you caved. You hung onto that promise, not realizing that he wouldn’t be able to keep it but for now, it comforted you, warm like your father's love.

#invincible x reader #invincible #nolan grayson x reader #mark grayson x reader #wow thats not alot of tags...

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jaylaxies · 6 months

Text

KINKTOBER DAY 28 — CHOKING KINK

PAIRING: spider-man!mark x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, choking, fingering, slight bondage, usage of nicknames, breeding.

WC: 1.3k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, loves! i couldn’t stop thinking of spidermark so here we are! i hope you guys will like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

✎ kinktober masterlist

“Shh, baby. Don’t want your parents to hear now, do we?”

You truly couldn’t believe that it was happening—that Spider-Man was in your room with his slender fingers wrapped around your throat.

You’ve always wanted this from the day you first saw him, on the day he saved a lift full of people from falling down and crashing to the ground. You were one of those who got stuck in the lift too, which was the traumatic onset of your tiny crush on him.

No one knew who was behind that mask, yet his suit clad figure was a sight to see, his build lean and slightly muscular, not to mention he smelled brilliant (a little something you gathered when he saved you).

To add to it, his ever so attractive voice always grasped everyone’s attention, you thought he was funny too, which is exactly why you ended up making a poster full of glitter saying:

Choke me, Spider-Man!

It was a silly joke, albeit you’d definitely be lying if you say you didn’t get wet dreams about the superhero, because you did. Detailed ones at that.

Maybe carrying the poster with you at all times was a bit of a stretch but you did it anyway, granted that your city was full of crimes and spotting Spider-Man was an easy task, which is why you proudly held up the poster in the crowd whenever you saw him, after he fought with the villain that is.

The people around you laughed, but it wasn’t mocking, it was more of an amused chuckle, and you could have sworn you noticed spidey look your way, before swinging away, much to your dismay.

This went on a few times. You were practically waving the poster when it was the fourth time, yet he didn’t pay you any attention, leaving you dejected as you dragged yourself back home from Uni, chuckling at your state.

Crush on a superhero?

Pathetic. He’s loved by countless people all over the world, what makes you think he’d have time to give you even a sliver of his attention when he’s so busy saving the world?

Clicking your tongue, you threw the crumbled poster in the trash can of your bedroom, dimming the lights as you sat down on your bed, ready to change into your nightwear before opting to sleep to take your mind off things.

Just then, a loud sound of knocking on your window caught your attention, which was funny considering you lived up on a pretty high floor in your apartment building. You thought that it must be a bird, still, you decided to open the curtains to check it out.

Shock would be an understatement to explain what you were feeling the second your eyes laid on the person right outside your window.

The reason for your sour mood, or rather, the reason you spent hours trying to ease the pent up frustration in you each night, moaning out with need, was hanging by your window.

“Oh god,” you breathed out, brain short circuiting for a few seconds before you shook your head, opening the windows for him to come in.

Who knew Spider-Man would actually care enough to notice you?

Then you realized just how awkward the situation was, and you didn’t have much to say anymore now that he was standing right in front of you, looking around as if he was inspecting your room.

“Spider man,” you breathed out, and he chuckled.

His attention was on you now, walking closer to you, “so, you’re the one who wanted to be choked by me,” he said smoothly, and you couldn’t help but shamelessly gawk at his figure, mouth watering at the sight.

“Uhm—I mean, holy fuck you’re actually here,” you tried to voice out your thoughts, but they were a mess, which only caused him to chuckle at your shocked state.

“Didn’t you want me here, baby?” He asked and you felt your knees buckling at the deep tone of his voice.

You took another step back, only to lose balance and trip. But good for you, your spidey was quick to shoot his web on your silky night blouse, pulling you close and right into his arms.

He smelled so good.

“Careful. We don’t want you hurting your pretty face,” he whispered, tracing his glove clad finger along your jaw, gripping your chin when he noticed how your body had gone still, “deep breaths, babe.”

“Are you gonna fuck me?” You asked, voice coming out in a low whine, eyes twinkling with hope.

He chuckled, pulling his mask up which had you bubbling with anticipation, you really wanted to see what he looked like. However, he stopped a little too soon for your liking, only exposing his lips, leaning in to mumble against your own.

“I’m gonna fuck the life out of you,” he whispers, a gasp leaving your lips as you pulled him closer into a rushed kiss.

He was quick to take over, kissing you harder as he pushed you down on your bed, “undress, quick,” he ordered, and you fumbled while getting everything off your body.

Your cheeks were warm, your eyes on his figure, which was now devoid of his costume, faint abs and strong muscles on display for you, but your mouth practically salivated at the sight of his cock, thick and hard.

Just when you sat up to touch him, he grabbed your wrist, pushing them up your head and shooting webs to make sure they didn’t move.

You never knew you’d be into web-play but here you are, getting wet by being constrained by webs.

“Please,” you begged in hopes that he’d touch you, or do something, anything.

“So needy, aren’t you?” He clicks his tongue, his fingers caressing your cunt, collecting your wetness, “so wet already,” he smirked, “wanna be fucked all night, huh?” He asked, continuing working his fingers between your legs, arousal leaking from your cunt.

His other hand was wrapped up around your neck, fingers tightening enough for you to gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt lightheaded with the whole situation, but you couldn’t have asked for anything better.

He was so good with his fingers, thumb pads circling your clit while two digits plunged in and out of you, eliciting moans out of you.

“Shh,” he whispered, his hold around your neck tightening which caused you to open your mouth, giving him the perfect opportunity to lean in and spit in your mouth, watching the glob travel down your tongue till you gulped it down, earning a praise out of him, “good girl.”

He pulled back right when your body started shaking with the orgasm building up in your lower abdomen, his hold on your neck loose to let you breathe some more before he took it to the next level.

He ran his lips down your neck, sucking harshly as he lined his cock to your eager folds, your expression blissful and your entrance so wet, it made it easy for him to bottom out, “so fucking pretty,” he groaned out.

His voice strained as he started fucking you into your mattress, his power was evident with how precise and hard his thrusts were. It was a lifetime opportunity for you, and you wished to savour every second of it as you wrapped your legs around his slender waist, pulling him even closer and deeper in your pussy.

He hit your spot over and over again, “cream my cock like a good girl, baby,” he rasped out, his own orgasm approaching.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, with his fingers still gripping your neck, the lack of air was evident but it somehow made you feel as if you were floating with unadulterated bliss around you as you finally reached your state of euphoria, coming undone on his cock, exactly when he filled you up with his cum, mixing it with yours as he emptied himself in you.

You whined when he pulled back, getting dressed after draining you, “you’re leaving?” You asked, frowning.

“Gotta save the world now, pretty,” he whispered, removing his webs from your wrists before pecking your lips and rushing out of the window.

Maybe making the poster wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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moon-rivr · 5 days

Text

so real

part three of congratulations series masterlist

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: more angst 👹👹, depressive thoughts, use of a vape, drug addiction (rapture)

synopsis: miguel’s boss, tyler stone, offers him an.. alternative route to deal with his grief

author’s note: CAN I TALK MY SHIT AGAIN 🗣️‼️ anyways i’m sure you all knew by now but none of this is 100% canon :3

word count: 6.3k

Church bells echoed through his head time and time again, the relentless sound practically playing on cassette in his head. The sound was accompanied by the sounds of Tempest's screaming, screams of anger and fear combined. Screams that would engrave themselves into his very being, reminding him of his failures. Why didn't you save me? I trusted you!

He patted the spot where you'd laid to him next to him, finding it empty. That was enough to wake him up from his restless slumber. He scrambled up to his feet, his mouth open to call out for you but nothing came out. All that was running through his head was the worst possible outcome, of finding you seriously injured or possibly even unconscious. The only thing he could do was listen as you called out to him: Miguel. Miguel. Miguel.

"Miguel."

"Miguel," his eyes snapped up open, realizing that was just another dream. He looked down to see that you were laying down next to him, your face grimacing as you wiggled. Oh shock. He'd clung on to you too tightly, practically almost squeezing you against his body. His grip immediately loosened, your body immediately relaxing. The loss of contact was evident even if you'd only moved a couple inches away from him.

His very being craved to be next to you, as selfish as it was. Your comfort was the only thing that he needed now, more than the very oxygen he inhaled.

"I'm sorry about that," he muttered, his voice hoarse from sleep and from all the crying he'd done just a couple hours prior. "It's okay, just go to sleep," you mumbled groggily, still half asleep. You rubbed your eyes, looking over your shoulder at him through half lidded eyes. You'd never seen him look so.. miserable. And yet, you had no idea who he couldn't save. You had no idea how to help, all that you could really do in this position was stay where you were and offer him your presence.

Sleep did not come back to him after that, despite how comfortable your body felt next to him. Every time he shut his eyes, the image of Tempest's rotting corpse came to the forefront of his mind. How no matter how hard he'd tried, he had nothing to account for that in the end. All that he had to account for the amount of effort that he'd put in was the amount of guilt within himself, the amount of blame that he placed upon himself for not doing more. Even if the rational part of his brain tried to convince him that he did the most he could.

He looked over at you, entranced by the small fall and rise of your chest as you slept comfortably next to him. The way your mouth slightly parted to let out a couple snores. Silently admiring all the little things he took for granted in the few times that he had you in his bed. Probably would be the last time that he got to see you in such a vulnerable position. "I love you too, chiquita. It's always been you," he whispered, kissing the top of your head before closing his eyes once more.

He was tempted to pull you back into his chest once he saw you stirring awake, a yawn escaping from your lips. "Morning," he spoke up as he saw you get up from the couch, stretching your arms out. You looked restless, probably from the uncomfortable position you'd been forced in. "Morning," you didn't even bother looking back at him, going over to the kitchen to get started on making a fresh pot of coffee.

Miguel leaned against your kitchen counter, his attention solely focused on every single one of your movements. The coffee pod that you'd chosen to put in the machine- a vanilla espresso. The amount of sugars and creamers that you'd set down on the counter. The slight curve of your body as you leaned against the counter, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. The way that you tried to avoid his not so subtle staring, your eyes flickering to all the small surfaces around.

"Why'd you come to me last night?" you decided to bite the bullet and ask the question that'd been rummaging through your brain all night long. For claiming to have nothing 'serious' with you, he was sure comfortable coming to your apartment at wee hours of the night. Not that you discouraged that activity by any means, though. Maybe you were more responsible than you would've liked to admit.

"Because I needed you."

"You can't do this to me. Treat me as if I'm nothing to you and then seek me out when you're at your lowest."

"I never treated you as if you were nothing to me."

"And yet, we were nothing serious? Or are you going to deny saying that?" You were expecting for him to have some kind of comeback to that, but he stared down at his coffee like it was single-handedly the most interesting thing in the world. The silence almost suffocating, you could almost see the gears turning in that big head of his.

"Look I don't know what happened but serio-"

"Tempest.. passed away last night and I couldn't save her. No matter how much I tried to."

Now that had stunned you into staying quiet, an apology at the tip of your tongue. For what, exactly? For making assumptions or to offer your condolences? Both, most likely. But before you even got the chance to open your mouth, he was already speaking again. "The engagement was a farce. She needed access to insurance and she only managed to get that through being with me."

"And you felt as though you couldn't be honest with me? I know that we've slept together and I don't know about you, but I've spent longer than that loving you," you told him, setting your coffee mug down on the kitchen counter. A stupid mug that he'd gotten for you, World's Best Girlfriend Situationship.

"Look Miguel, I get that you're going through a lot but you can't expect for me to be here only when you want me to be around. I think I deserve more than that by this point."

You were so right. The words were at the tip of his tongue, but how could he say that when he'd treated you just the way you described ever since you came back? Even if he said so, he knew that his words wouldn't be enough to convince you otherwise. He stared at you in silently, his face conveying the pain that he wouldn't dare to voice out loud. Don't fall for it. Don't. As much as you wanted to comfort him, as much as a part of you couldn't bear to see him so upset, you needed to put your own needs above his own for once.

"Finish up your coffee and grab your clothes from the drier. I'll be here when you're ready to treat me like I mean something to you, but up until that point, I don't want to see you."

Miguel tried to prolong the couple sips of coffee he had, taking a few drops every two minutes. Anything that would give him the excuse to be around you longer than he should've. "I'm sorry," he spoke up, watching as you paused in cleaning your mug before resuming. "What's the point of saying sorry if you haven't done anything to change it yet?" your words came out so hushed, his ears practically perking up. If you'd noticed that he wasn't finishing up his coffee, you hadn't bothered to say anything just yet.

Miguel lost track of how many times he'd passed the sponge by the mug, lost in his own thought. How is it possible that he lost two of the people he cared about in less than 24 hours? He could practically see his own reflection in the mug by the time he decided to put the sponge down, rinsing the suds away. He walked over to the laundry room, grabbing his clothes before making his way out of your apartment. "Bye," his words were barely audible, unable to look at you or talk to you after how the last exchange had gone.

This time around, Miguel drove with extreme caution. Almost as a way to overcompensate for his rash behavior last night. He didn't even bother slamming his hand against the wheel when a car merged onto his lane without using their turn signal. At least he didn't have to go into work until Monday, leaving him enough time to seep into his self loathing. And to think about the fact that despite the fact he'd dreamed about the day you'd move back to Nueva York to be with you, it was starting to become more and more unattainable.

He was tempted on calling out on work when Monday rolled around, saying that he needed some time to grieve. But all that he'd been doing at home was look up at the ceiling and think about different alternatives. Alternatives where he wasn't a screw up. Alternatives where his efforts actually counted towards something, where he was actually saving people. A different alternative where you didn't hate him, where he was less of an idiot to prove to you just how much you actually meant to him.

Sleep didn't come to him that easily either. He'd spend hours counting sheep and listening to white noise only to find himself groaning into his pillow. Every position proving to be futile in his restless nights, the image of seeing Tempest in that hospital practically tattooed at the back of his eyelids every time he closed them. His eyes burned from how long he’d kept them open, his head pounding as it urged for him to take at least a nap. Not that he would listen.

Awake or not, his life was starting to become a continuous torment. Every day was the same miserable cycle, though he wasn't making any effort to change it either. Maybe he deserved to feel the way he did right now. It's what he told himself anytime that he was starting to feel the numbness get overwhelming. That he didn't deserve to have some relief from this grief. The days blurred onto one another to the point where he couldn't tell the distinction between them until he looked down at his phone to check the date.

Get up. Drink coffee. Eat two bites of an overpriced sandwich he'd buy at Alchemax. Work. Close eyes. Repeat until exhaustion.

Upon grabbing a fresh lab coat from his closet, he caught a glimpse of the suit he was supposed to wear for the wedding. The wedding ceremony that would've happened tomorrow. Instead, it would now be his funeral suit. He pushed the suit to the back of his closet, pulling his dress shirts over it to conceal the fact. Just looking at it had proved to be an eyesore. He grabbed the first pair of socks that he found, not even bothering to check that they were the same pair before putting his shoes on. Spoiler alert: One was bright red and the other one was a dull purple.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, the action doing completely nothing to aid the bird's nest in his hair. Hairs stuck out from every end and there had even accumulated a gloop of dry hair gel on his scalp. He was a mess in every sense of the word. If that was even a strong enough word to describe his current state. He wasn't even sure when he bothered to take more than a five minute shower, maybe a week ago? Though he told himself that a couple days ago so he wasn't truly sure how much time had really passed.

"Puta madre," he grumbled, a couple of the comb's teeth falling from the sheer force that he'd exuded into just trying to run it through a couple strands. Miguel tugged on the comb with a bit more force, though it wouldn't go through no matter how much he wanted it to. He set down the black comb, rummaging through his cabinets to find a new one. He'd be lying if he said that the sight of seeing Tempest's stuff mixed in with his didn't make a couple tears run down his cheeks. From the halfway finished hair products to the new perfume that she was wanting to try out.

After breaking a couple more brushes, Miguel decided to give up on the effort to fix up his appearance. Not that he even needed to put that much effort, much of the interns didn't even bother to put on deodorant before they showed up. He'd completely forgotten about the work meeting that was set up for today, stepping into the room about ten minutes later. The attention of the room went to him immediately, the loud slam of the door behind him doing nothing to aid the situation. He muttered a half ass sorry before going to sit down.

Gloved fingers snapped in front of him, disrupting whatever little train of thought was coursing through his head. Miguel couldn't even bother to hide the irritation in his face as he turned to look at Aaron, raising his eyebrows as he waited for the shorter man to speak. He was almost tempted to laugh at the way that Aaron had to huff out his chest to put on an intimidating facade. Trying so very hard to present the small bit of authority that Tyler Stone had placed upon him. And failing, truthfully.

"Get your head out your ass and listen closely. Mr. Stone can't handle any mistakes in this project," Aaron's voice seemed so far away, so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Nothing that he did mattered, anyways. He couldn't keep the girl. He couldn't save anyone. Aaron's voice faded out into a low hum, a garble of technical nonsense. How the project at hand could put human lives at stake if done incorrectly and of how it could improve lives if it actually worked. Nonsense he's heard time and time again.

He didn't even realize he was dozing off, his body slumped against the rolling chair behind him. "Wake the hell up or you're fired in the next five seconds! Mr. Stone requested to see you in his office," that same damn voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard broke him out of his slumber, a large palm slamming on the desk in front of him. Miguel grumbled as he rubbed his eyes, willing himself to wake up before getting up from his chair. He ignored the small snickers that followed after he departed the room.

Miguel took the opportunity to step into one of the bathrooms, taking the opportunity to look over himself before he appeared in front of Mr. Stone. He didn't need to receive a lecture on unprofessionalism on top of the lecture he was probably going to receive already. Not that he cared all that much, but he wasn't sure just how much more yelling he could take with the steady pounding in his head. Rumors floated around people getting fired for even looking at Mr. Stone in a way that they shouldn't have, his ruling over the company an iron fist.

He splashed some cold water on his face, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the last remnants of sleep that lingered behind. The water did nothing to aid with the redness in his eyes, the sleep deprivation apparent to anyone who would spare a second glance. Luckily enough for him, Mr. Stone couldn't care less if his mental health was deteriorating. He grabbed a bottle of eye drops from his coat pocket, squirting some of the substance into his eyes before making his way over to Mr. Stone's office.

Miguel brought his hand up to the large wooden door, knocking on it twice. He looked up to see the camera hanging above the door now pointed towards his direction, the stare from it lasting for a couple seconds than what was necessary. A loud buzz came through the large doors before they opened to reveal the space that was Mr. Stone's office. If it could even called that. While interns were forced to work downstairs in cubicles with a half-functioning air conditioner, Mr. Stone had a tiger rug placed in the center of the room.

Miguel almost felt bad for getting the floor dirty, his eyes shifting to what else the office had to offer. Large windows that went from the top of the wall down to the floor, presenting a perfect view of the Nueva York skyline. The sunlight coming through the windows reflected onto the gold podiums that he had set up, the sight almost painful to look at. Mr. Stone turned around in the rolling chair he was on in a villainous fashion. Miguel was almost surprised that he didn't have a white cat on his lap to finish up the touch.

"O'Hara, right?" While Aaron tried so hard to exude power he didn't have, all Mr. Stone had to do was speak. He could almost feel the temperature drop a couple degrees from the sheer coldness of his voice. "That's me, sir. I heard you wanted to see me," Miguel spoke up, clearing his throat. He stood at a distance, not making the slightest attempt to move closer unless Mr. Stone asked for him to do so. Mr. Stone stayed quiet for a couple seconds, analyzing him carefully from head to toe before speaking,

"We're testing out a new drug at the facility. It's completely safe for consumption and I believe it's what you need to get over this grieving period."

"Excuse me?" It was the first time that Miguel had heard of an employer actually promoting the usage of drugs, though it was no secret that a majority of Wall Street in Nueva York was high off cocaine just to get through business meetings. He expected Mr. Stone to tell him that it was a test, to see if he would take the bait but all he got in return was more silence from the man. Suddenly, he stood up and dusted off his suit. A suit that probably cost more than his apartment building if he had to guess. "Please, follow me. I have something to show you."

Tyler unlocked a steel door with his ID badge, the temperature inside the room enough to make Miguel shiver underneath the thin white lab coat he had on. He wanted to turn around, tell Tyler that he wasn't interested in this anymore but a green vial was placed in the palm of his hand. "Look, I'm not telling you that you need to take it but just know that we have the resources here to help you," Tyler really was trying to amp up this caring persona up to the max with his soft way of talking.

"Just think about it, okay? You have full access to this center of the facility from now on in case you do end up taking it," Tyler finished up as the two of them stepped out of the room, leaving Miguel with a decision to make. A decision that had he been in the right state of mind wouldn't even be up for debate at all. And yet, here he was actually considering going through with what Mr. Stone had told him. By the time that Miguel came back to the conference office, he found the room void of anything other than the things he left behind. He stuffed the vial deep into his pocket before going to pick up his things.

Miguel held the vial between his thumb and pointer finger, analyzing what he could about the drug. From what he could discern from the bottle, the drug didn't seem too different from over the counter pain prescriptions. But he's seen things over the months, seen the way that Alchemax deliberately failed to mention certain ingredients just to get FDA approval. The way that they put human safety at the bottom of their priority list, funding for research at the top. Of the experiments locked away in the basement begging for some kind of mercy, for the chemicals to stop making every breath impossible.

And yet, with that doubt in his mind, he injected the drug into the first vein that he could find on his arm. The pounding in his head dissipated to a low hum, the pressure from his body relieved. He felt the best he had in days, the exhaustion from his body was something of the past. He felt like he was on top of the world, like he was able to run a marathon and win first place. Everything seemed much easier now, making him even wonder what he was even depressed about. There was truly nothing else that could replicate the blissful feeling inside of him.

Funny to think about how he'd gotten on his brother for having a vape a few years back. A 'Very Juicy Mango Pod' that was on the market for lasting longer than normal vapes. Half the school had been indulging in those substances just to get through the day, something that he hadn't dabbled in and quite frankly would never dabble in. He hated that feeling, the feeling of having no control over his body. Of only being susceptible to that temporary euphoria. The feeling of only having relief with one hit of those things.

"You know that stuff's gonna fuck up your lungs, right?" His tone was condescending, only because he truly did care about Gabriel. He wafted the thick smoke blown at his face, his eyes narrowing slightly upon seeing the stupid grin on Gabriel's face. "That's just a rumor, hermanito. You can't really say anything until you try it out," Gabriel retorted, dangling the small bar in front of him. Miguel took the vape from his hands after what seemed to the forth dangle, hesitantly bringing it to his lips. He inhaled, the smoke traveling down to his lungs immediately.

He coughed, his body immediately rejecting the substance. How anyone liked that stuff was beyond him. He practically tossed it back to Gabriel, the touch of the bar almost enough to disgust him. "Just.. don't get hooked on that stuff, I care about you too much to lose you," Miguel told Gabriel, sitting down next to him. It was one of the couple times where he expressed love for his brother verbally rather than letting his actions do the talking. "I know and I won't, I promise," Gabriel's voice was full of determination, an arm slung around Miguel's shoulders.

The next morning when he woke up to go to school, he found Gabriel's small stash of pods and bars tossed in the depths of trash can. Some of which he'd barely bought at an outrageously high price from a plug. Though when Miguel had asked him about it, Gabriel simply shrugged it off like it was nothing. "I don't want to give you reasons to worry about me. You do that enough as it is," Gabriel assured him, letting him know that he'd done him a favor. "I know it was hard but thank you," Miguel told him, the two going out for lunch after school that day.

The low hit him harder than he could've expected. It hit him when he was at home, watching the news on TV. The reporter was babbling about some robbery that happened on 54th Avenue, but all he could think about was when he would be able to get his next fix of the damned drug. His mouth practically salivated at the idea of having it in his system once more. Within that need however, there also resided a deep feeling of guilt. A guilt that was clawing him from the inside out, yelling at him to stop what he was doing. That Tempest, his mother, Gabriel, and you would all be disappointed in what he was doing.

"Shut up, shut up!" He yelled at nothing in particular, tossing his remote control at the TV with more force than necessary. The TV changed into an array of colors before shifting into black and white, the remote almost cracking the screen upon further inspection. He paced around his living room floor, the pounding in his heart difficult to ignore. Sweat dripped down from his forehead despite the fact that he turned the AC to the lowest he could without freezing to death, his body begging for just one more hit. Just one.

The urge to have more of that small green vial overwhelmed every sense of his being. Just five minutes without the drug made him feel like he was drowning. He thought he felt pathetic before but this was a new low even for him. Sitting down on his bathroom floor, injecting a fresh vial of Rapture just so he wouldn't feel like he was completely losing his mind. It didn't even feel pleasurable as it did the first time, but it did help with bringing back his body to stable levels. It helped him to forget the small voice in his head that was screaming at him to be rational.

The red beaming light from the camera placed on the steel ceilings of the laboratory seemed to mock him every time that he approached the storage room. Despite how many cameras were placed across the laboratory, he couldn't help but feel that this one was zeroing in on every movement he made. On every new vial that he grabbed. Almost as if Mr. Stone was checking up on him, checking to see if he fell for his carefully woven trap. And he did. His pockets were stuffed full of vials, trying to assure that he wouldn't have to go without them.

He was starting to become a brainless zombie. Coming into work with the illusion that he'd be able sneak in a couple vials of Rapture during his lunch break without capturing anyone's attention. Though, rumors had been starting to circulate. Hushed whispers about how the one with the most promise at Alchemax was now a drug addicted fiend. Not that anyone would ever said that to say his face, the whispers died down every time he was in close proximity.

“Hey, have you talked to Miguel recently? He hasn’t been answering my calls and that’s just not like him, y’know?” Gabriel called to ask you around three in the morning. Clearly the brothers had a taste for waking you up at the ass crack of dawn. “No, I haven’t. I haven’t talked to him in like three weeks, I wanna say. Let me know if you hear from him though,” you responded, rubbing your eyes as you tried to stay awake for Gabriel’s sake. “I will, thank you. And please, don’t give up on him. I know he’s an idiot but his heart’s in the right place.”

You looked down at Miguel’s contact information, wondering if you should call him. You did tell him to leave you alone if he wasn’t willing to prove himself to you. And if he hasn’t answered his own brother’s phone calls, then why should he answer yours? After letting the thought seep in, you decided to dial his number. You were hoping for some kind of miracle, that you’d be the one he would make an exception for. “Please leave your message after the beep. BEEP!” Was the only response you received though.

“Hey, I know I said I wasn’t going to talk to you but please call me or Gabriel. Just let us know you’re alive, please. He’s really worried about you. Okay, well I hope you’re taking care of yourself. Bye.”

Calls from Gabriel went unanswered along with the thousand voice messages that he'd left, asking him how he was and expressing concern for him. "Llámame cabron, que estoy preocupado por ti.” I've asked around and no one's heard from you in a couple days. For your sake, I hope you're not dead in a ditch," was what the last message had transcribed to, Gabriel's voice a pitch higher. Usually, Miguel wouldn't have let his brother worry this much about him but he couldn't feign being sober to save his life.

He couldn't take it anymore. The urge that he had to feel that high, even for a couple seconds only to end up feeling like complete crap after he'd taken it. The lows were what got him to get up and inject that poison into his system, the thoughts in his head too much to bear. If he thought that it was bad before the drugs, it was much more worse now. The images of Tempest were much more vivid now, he could practically feel her cold fingers on his skin as she pleaded him for something. He couldn't make out what that something was, it was just an endless string of 'please.'

He was taking the drug more so out of obligation. His body goes cold after a few minutes of sobriety, trembling as his grip on reality starts to waver. The drug offered him shorter periods of relief with every new vial that he inserted into his body, but it offered him some kind of relief. Even if it was just fifteen minutes of letting him forget about the misery that his life was. It wasn't until he looked at his reflection in the mirror that he realized how truly screwed he was, how much he'd been disregarding his own health.

Miguel could hardly recognize the man staring back at him in the mirror. He let out a small gasp when he stuck his hand out, his reflection meeting him halfway. Was this what he had become? His eyes lacked any signs of energy, dark circles ringing underneath. He wasn't even sure when was the last time he managed to sleep more than twenty minutes at a time. His stubble was in patches, a couple splotches of red skin from the scratching he had been doing. He couldn't take looking at this stranger anymore. He punched the mirror out of fury, the pieces shattering below him.

What haunted him the most about looking down at those pieces is that he still saw the reflection of that stranger looking back at him.

After doing some extensive research on all the chemicals that Rapture contained, he came to a conclusion that he already knew at the back of his head. There was no way to break the addiction, not without death involved at least. The drug was unlike any others that he'd seen, the chemical components much higher than some of the hardcore drugs on the market. It changed his genetic makeup to the point where he needed the drug as much as he needed oxygen to breathe. Even slow withdrawals from the drug was a guaranteed death. Every treatment was futile against said drug.

Miguel didn't even want to think about what Mr. Stone was capable of doing if he caught whiff that he was trying to break loose from the viscous cycle he was in. He seemed so eager to get Miguel to take the drug, surely he must've known what effects the drug would take on his body. All the research that he did was on a private network in the safety of his apartment, where he could keep the information safe. He'd come up with one final conclusion, that he needed to change his genetic component back to what it was before getting hooked on Rapture.

Maybe he shouldn't have been so cocky in his own abilities. He really should've done more research on what the dangers of altering his DNA would be. Though, anything would be a relief from the constant nagging in his head for more. More. More. More. The straps on the side of the capsule he was standing in secured him into place, a low hum from the machine next to him indicating that it was ready to start. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, all while hoping for the best and expecting the worst. Though, anything would be better than what he was going through right now.

Aaron truly didn't expect anyone else to be at the lab at this hour, even the workaholics at the lab had their limits. He was there to pick up a couple files that he needed for one of the reports Mr. Stone had asked for, but how could he possibly miss out on this opportunity that just presented to him so perfectly? Even through the green rays of the machine, he could see Miguel O'Hara standing there in his full glory. Attempting not to grimace from the burning sensation coursing through his very veins. Oh, how'd he dreamed of this moment.

All the times Miguel poked fun at him, the times that he'd belittled his work, and all the times that he'd managed to outshine him were the perfect motivation for Aaron to code spider DNA into the system. See how he likes that. The studies on animal DNA altering humans wasn't promising, a 99.999% mortality rate as of yet. He didn't care. Nobody would find out about what he'd done, he knew Mr. Stone would remove all the security footage if it came to that point. He amped up the machine to the max, staring at the capsule eagerly.

Agonizing screams followed soon after Aaron departed from the scene, a traitorous laugh escaping from his throat upon realizing what he'd done. "AARON!" Miguel's yells echoed into the steel hallways, bouncing off the walls though Aaron was less the wiser. It was truthfully the best melody that Aaron had heard in his life, hearing one of the men he hated the most cry out for help without actually receiving any aid. "WHAT DID YOU DO?!" Miguel's voice was raw from the screaming he'd been doing. The machine beeped loudly, indicating that the genetic splicing was now finished.

Miguel stepped out of the chamber, wobbling and stumbling through the laboratory floor before touching what he assumed was a table. He gripped the edges of the table, blinking rapidly to ease the blurriness that clouded his vision. Everything felt odd. His body didn't feel like it belonged to him, it felt like it belonged to some monster. Long claws protruded from his fingers, scratching the table the harder he tried to hold onto. He ran his tongue through his teeth, letting out a small groan upon feeling a sharp sensation on the side.

Fangs..? No, he must be daydreaming. Some after effect of long term exposure to Rapture. And yet, no matter how hard he tried to wake up from this torment, he remained still. Footsteps pattered in the hallways, a reminder that someone else had been witness to this situation. Miguel ran faster than he was ever able to, tackling Aaron onto the ground in a matter of mere seconds. Miguel gripped Aaron's arms above his head, paying no attention to the sound of ripping flesh. All that Miguel knew is that he needed answers and he needed them now.

"What the hell did you put in me?!" The accusation didn't come out the way he expected it to, a lisp in his words. Aaron winced in pain from the prickles that Miguel was inducing with his claws, a self satisfied smirk on his face at seeing what he'd managed to reduce the man to nonetheless. "ANSWER ME!" Miguel's voice boomed through the empty hallways, echoing throughout the dead of night. He swore that the vein throbbing in his forehead was about to pop the second that he saw Aaron laughing.

Miguel tossed Aaron to the side without any regard to where he landed, going back to the lab to look for any hints of what Aaron had coded into the system. He went back to the previous code, seeing that some form of spider DNA had been entered into the system. He shouldn't even be alive right now. Not when all the other people who'd gone through this procedure morphed into a version of the creature before ultimately exploding. His head was spinning with the realization, not even bothering to notice the fact that he didn't need the drug anymore.

He looked down at his phone, his finger hovering above your contact name as he debated on whether or not he should call you. Before he got the chance to make a decision though, police sirens blared loudly out of the building. The sound seemed to rattle his head, his ears all too sensitive to the sound. Miguel got down on his knees, pressing his hands to his ears in hopes that it would alleviate with the pain. It did not. All he could do was hope that the sound would soon go away while he curled up into a ball.

"NYPD! Come outside with your hands up!" A man's voice boomed through a loudspeaker. Miguel looked around, trying to find a way out of the facility. He could hear the boot stomps from the first floor, every possible exit blockaded by the police. So he did the most logical thing he could think of. He jumped out of the window and swung? Wait, what? Sure enough, he looked down at his wrists to see a small pocket shooting out white webs. Though, he really should've been paying more attention to the sights in front of him.

THUMP

He crashed face first into a building, a measly web falling from his wrist next to him.

taglist 🫶🏼: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @pxtched @nympholove @ifiwasaguybrickedup @nixinluv02 @hislastbimbogff @lizaistewdelulu @swiftiegirliepop @1800-get-alife @cl3stevu @mvlanchqly @tomalymme @boringpersonality @laysmt @scaryplanetdestroyer @crimin4llyins4ne @cheerrioeoz @peachey-pie @scaleniusrm @simpinonyouz @lauraolar14 @nediks @ayamaiis @iheartlinds (unsure if y’all still wanted to be tagged again so i just did. but pls lmk if you wanna b removed 🙏🏼)

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seelestia · 2 years

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— (𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓) 𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑.

SUMMARY. depraved of sleep, you begin to doze off and before you know it, you've fallen asleep with their shoulder as your pillow.

CHARACTERS. tighnari, alhaitham, cyno.

GENRE. sugary fluff, established relationship.

CW. reader has eyebags, alhaitham recites a physics theory (yes, it's a warning /j).

THOUGHTS. yet another attempt at writing sumeru men because... just because + to celebrate tighnari coming home to me! on the contrary, i hope you guys will win your next 50/50's <3

✰ masterlist.

Like the dutiful Forest Watcher that he is, TIGHNARI doesn't hide the offended look on his face when he discovers that you fell asleep while he is explaining important knowledge on how to identify certain mushrooms in the wild — and on his shoulder at that too.

It is either your attention has not been on his speech this entire time or you've messed up your sleep schedule... or even worse, both.

Not to mention, those bags under your eyes are ghastly.

Goodness, at what time did you sleep last night? He thought he told you many times already how proper sleep isn't worth sacrificing just for a few more hours of staying up. Your efficiency rate goes down if sleep is constantly gnawing at you, so it's better to shake away that sleepiness first.

Hmph, it's all too ironic to internally nag you like this while your sleeping face is staring right back at him.

Seriously, does his shoulder look like that much of a comfy pillow? Even his tail would be a better suited candidate, he'd admit. Tighnari can only sigh, his ears flicking along like an agreeing sign of exasperation.

But he knows that the reason you stayed up was to push yourself to complete more work — and although Tighnari has his own protests about that mindset of yours, he understands. For now, any lectures that he wants to give about time management and proper rest can wait.

Your comfort is more vital here; as romantic as falling on your significant other's shoulder seems like, it isn't the most practical way to sleep. He doesn't want you to wake up with an aching neck later.

"Sleepyhead," Tighnari huffs as he lifts you onto his back. You're oblivious, still very much deep in sleep with your head now resting at the crook of his neck.

Well, he can't really complain any further, can he? You're a sleepyhead but you're his sleepyhead, at least.

One of the perks you obtain from being ALHAITHAM's partner is that you're able to listen to his voice in a way not many can; after all, it is quite rare to hear the scribe speak without that usual sharp edge in his tone.

Not only that, you also get to be so close to him too. Just like right now; barely a mere hair's breadth away from each other, leaning against his arm while he holds up a book for the both of you to read.

It's a normal routine between you and him that he is particularly fond of, a way to spend time together while idly fueling an intellectual spark — but this time, Alhaitham can tell that something is slightly off.

The way your eyes begin to droop, the softer rhythm of your breath, how your voice grows quieter. You're even more exhausted than usual, he notices but he doesn't comment on it just yet.

Alhaitham resumes on reciting the sentences of the book in his hand with his usual composure, "Natural motion is the motion arising from the nature of an object. This motion does not require an external cause in order to occur. For example, heavy bodies naturally move toward the center of gravity, therefore falling is a—" Thump.

All too unceremoniously, your head plops down onto his shoulder, your closed eyes are an obvious sign that you've succumbed to sleep.

And there goes the exact moment he predicted. Alhaitham can't help the little sigh that escapes his lips, "Huh, so you did take my advice to go to sleep last night for granted."

But he doesn't move. Instead, he goes back to reading as if he doesn't have a head literally relying on his shoulder for support. Yes, yes, it is somewhat of a nuisance — but not to the point where he sees the need to nudge you awake.

His patience isn't as thick as many people might expect, though. But he supposes because it is you laying your head on his shoulder... perhaps, he can extend it just a bit longer.

Besides, who knows? He might even trudge into the inevitable territory that is resting his head on top of yours, but that is only a possibility, of course. You're most likely too deep in slumber to even notice if he did that.

When you wake up from your little nap later, definitely expect to see an unfazed Alhaitham just casually flipping another page of his book as if you haven't snoozed on his shoulder for only the Archons know how long.

"You're awake. I never take my shoulder as a comfortable pillow, but you seem to think differently. Well, it doesn't matter either way, do you feel better now?"

The sheer embarrassment you feel is an immediate guarantee — but whether or not Alhaitham rested his head on top of yours while you slept, however, will forever remain a mystery.

The very moment your head falls onto his shoulder, CYNO's entire body just immediately stiffens and becomes as still as a rock.

Understandably so; this is very different from what the General Mahamatra is used to, after all. Not even the people of the Akademiya are brave enough to place a hand on his shoulder, so to see this sort of reaction from him is... expected.

The only thing that he can manage to utter amidst his stunned state is just one word, an awkward one.

"Um."

You don't even stir in the slightest, you can't hear him. Well, Cyno can barely even speak himself; this puzzling flutter in his chest is almost akin to a flock of butterflies stuck in his throat. It halts him from talking in the cold tone that he usually sports or just speaking in a volume above a choked whisper, in general.

The feared General Mahamatra reduced to a flustered statue just by an innocent gesture from his lover, what a sight indeed.

Although... a part of him feels content to know that you feel safe enough to doze off in his presence. Another one feels conflicted, almost overwhelmed by his need to follow a process in order to handle this correctly? Properly?

But your comforting warmth, that peaceful look on your face, how close you are to him — perhaps, relishing in this moment wouldn't be something to be ashamed of? ...Alright then.

And so, Cyno comes to a decision and his body finally relaxes from its prior tense state. He, reluctantly but gently, allows himself to melt into you; very, very slightly tilting his head on top of yours and places his arm protectively around your figure — not touching you directly, however, as to not disturb your sleep — yet, still around you like a shielding cage.

The General Mahamatra isn't foolish enough to let his guards down fully, of course. Even in his relaxed state, he can still sense if a few people decide to give the two of you unpleasant looks; he has no problems staring them down whatsoever.

It's safe to say you had a good nap that day. Though, Cyno is still worried about your lack of sleep and he'll do whatever he can to help.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

✰ TAGLIST: @meimeimeirin @tsuk4sa-yug1 @hcikazu @catcze @semi-orangeapple @yuuki4646 @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n @dearcalis — [ bolded names are unable to be tagged + register here to be a part of my taglist! ]

#genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #genshin hcs #tighnari x reader #tighnari x you #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #cyno x reader #cyno x you #seelestial.inks

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toruro · 1 year

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hyung line + making up after a fight

a/n: find part one with the argument right here and maknae line's version right here! i promised a resolution and here it is! hope you like it, and please leave likes/comments/reblogs <3

w/c: 2.4k

seungcheol

when you wake up the morning after your fight, seungcheol isn’t next to you. you kind of expect it, the effects of last night’s argument still fresh in both of your minds. still, you miss the warmth of his body next to you in the morning, and the chill you’re feeling right now does nothing to aid your already wounded heart. you crawl out of bed slowly, pulling on a sweater as you make your way to the kitchen where you find seungcheol leaning against the counter as he waits for his morning coffee to brew. you realize he hasn’t noticed you yet, and you figure he’s lost in thought so you quietly creep up next to him, looking down when you mutter a quiet “good morning.” he jumps a little, surprised, but then turns to look at you with a soft expression on his face. “hey,” he murmurs, quickly bringing a hand to yours to interlock your fingers in his, “do you wanna talk now?” and when you nod, he’ll agree, pulling you to the dining table so you can both sit across from each other and talk about the situation but much more calmly and slowly than the night before. once the issue is resolved, he’ll be standing up and pulling you into his arms so tightly you think he might just squeeze the air out of you. “i’m sorry,” he’ll whisper as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, “for what i said,” and it would only take you a second before you’re spewing out your own apologies, holding him closer. after a few moments he’ll pull back and let me tell you seungcheol would kiss you SO passionately your mind would go blank. the rest of the day is spent with you two basically joined at the hip, being way more clingy than normal to make sure that there’s no more pent up anger or frustration.

jeonghan

granted, arguments with jeonghan will pretty much never reach the point where you’re both still bitter in the following morning. but in the rare case that you’re still a little sulky in the morning, he’d press closer to you and prop himself up against the headboard, pulling you on top of him so your head was resting on his chest. as he strokes your head, he’d ask you to talk about how you’re feeling and he’d let you ramble all that you want, occasionally adding in his own short and calculated responses. once you’re done, he’d still have you in his arms, talking about solutions and stuff and basically the issue is resolved within minutes if it was not already resolved the night before. he’d still take extra care of you this morning, spending at least an hour cuddling with you in bed before suggesting a shared bath which you obviously can’t deny.

joshua

mornings after Those Arguments with joshua are whole experience on its own. you slept on the couch, so naturally you didn’t have the best night’s sleep—not only was the couch not the most comfortable (you did propose to sleep there yourself though) but the words from last night’s arguments are fresh in your mind, popping up in your vision whenever you close your eyes. that’s not to say joshua had a great night either—he probably stayed up hours more than you thinking about all the things he said and why in fuck’s name he let himself say that stuff. he didn’t mean it, but he understands that that’ll be hard for you to believe so he spends all night thinking of ways to approach the situation in the morning. he’s up super early too, and eventually he can’t stand being in the bed without you beside him so he gets up and goes to the kitchen which is attached to the living room that you’re sleeping in. upon seeing you, he adjusts the blanket over your body before quietly making himself a cup of coffee while he waits for you to wake up. it doesn’t take long though, and when you’re pushing yourself up from the couch and rubbing your eyes, joshua is by your side immediately. there’s a thick silence that coats the atmosphere in the room right now as you look at each other, and joshua is the first to speak, “i’m so sorry,” he says quickly, and you want to start crying again at how sad his voice sounds. and well you technically do. your eyes are already starting to water and joshua tentatively brings a hand up to brush the tears away. when you lean in to his touch as opposed to turning away, he takes this as his chance to cradle your head and pull you into a deep hug. you’re wrapping your arms around his torso immediately, basking in his warmth that you’d been craving throughout the night. when he pulls back, he sits on the couch next to you and faces you so he can start talking. you both pick up the same discussion from the night before but much more civil and without the anger and frustration. once the issue is resolved, joshua would be pulling you into his chest again, mumbling endless apologies along the lines of “i don’t know what came over me,” and “i didn’t mean it,” and endless “i love you.” you forgive him of course, but he still spends the rest of the day wary and heeding by your every wish. it’s a little bit endearing, but eventually you have to kiss him and tell him that everything is a-okay and that he doesn’t need to be worried.

jun

he'd feel so bad for pushing the argument to the point that you felt you needed to sleep on the couch that once you were asleep, he'd make a makeshift bed on the ground in front of the couch to sleep there. when you wake up, you don't even look down, not expecting to find jun in front of you, so you accidentally end up stepping on one of his legs. that has him jumping up from his sleep and it almost causes him to hit his head on the coffee table, but you're quickly throwing out a hand and shielding his forehead from the contact. once jun blinks a few times and realizes what's going on, he looks at you so intensely that you find it extremely hard to maintain eye contact. the air is thick but then jun is pulling himself onto the couch so he can face and you hold your hands in his and he doesn't say anything—you it's because he knows he talked too much the night before and wants you to have to chance to talk, to explain, and to try to reason with him. unlike the night before, he listens and he waits before responding, and now that neither of you are acting in the heat of the moment the conversation flows much more smoothly. the problem that once seemed blaring and hopeless is now being resolved within minutes and jun will pull you so close to him that you think you two might just mold into one. he'd whisper quiet apologies before saying, "also can we like, never sleep in different places ever again? i think that was the worst sleep of my life pretty much ever." you cock an eyebrow. "are you sure it just wasn't because you slept on the floor?' he shakes his head vigorously before responding, "nah, it was all because you weren't next to me." you let out a soft giggle at the corny comment, but jun doesn't give you the chance to make fun of him because he's swooping down to kiss you in no time.

soonyoung

when he wakes up in the morning and you aren’t by his side, it’s like his worst fears have come true—you’ve left him, he thinks. it would take a few moments of him frantically checking under the covers for him to realize that from the noise that’s coming from the kitchen, you haven’t left him and that you’re just probably making some coffee or something. he's scrambling out of bed faster than he can think and you're undeniably a little bit startled when he's barging into the kitchen without warning. he doesn't even wait for a second to approach you but right when he's about to engulf you in a hug the events from the night before are crashing in on him and he pauses, waiting for you to make the final move. when you lean into him, wrapping your arms around his torso, a wave of relief washes over soonyoung, and after holding you for what feels like a good five minutes, he pulls back so he can start spewing out apologies. he's talking so fast that you're mind is racing and after just a few moments you need to tell him to slow down. it doesn't seem to work because he just keeps on talking about how he was so stupid last night and you finally think enough is enough and you decide to shut him up in the only way that you know works: smashing your lips on his. a little unconventional, yes, but it works, and you can see him getting pulled back into the present. "can we have a normal conversation, please soonie?" you ask, and with the way that you're using his nickname, soonyoung will know that everything will, eventually, be okay. you both stand across each other in the kitchen, running over the events from the night before taking things step by step to figure out where it all went wrong. it takes some time, yes, but the issue is eventually resolved—you didn't doubt that this would be how it ended up though, because after all, you could go through hell and back if he was by your side.

wonwoo

you wake up the next morning with his hand draped over your waist, and while you would usually cuddle closer to him, embracing the way he's literally your living heater, this morning is full of thoughts from the night before—you're understandably tentative. you and wonwoo tend to wake up around the same time, so you don't really move much, expecting him to wake up within a few minutes too. you're correct, of course, and within just a few moments he's stirring away, shifting in the bed next to you. it takes both you one more minute before you're escaping your drowsiness, sitting upright to look at each other. the silence that sits between you is uncomfortable to say the least, and you're not quite happy with that. wonwoo doesn't seem too pleased either, and he's the first to speak up. "let's get some breakfast and talk, yeah?" he suggests, and there's no way you can say no. you follow him to the kitchen where you two don't really talk, wonwoo making the coffee and you making some toast. eating in silence, the air is thick and you can't remember the last time things were this awkward between you two. you're so relieved when you're both done eating, finally sitting across from each other at the table to discuss the issue from the night before. on a full stomach and rested mind, both you and wonwoo are much more civil about the way you approach the issue. it's like how you normally deal with arguments (and last night was definitely not normal), but there's the added somberness of the extra mean words you both might have thrown in the night before. the conversation is long and will definitely bring tears to both of your eyes but by the time you're done you feel nothing but relief that it's all resolved and happiness that wonwoo stuck by your side through it all. once you both get up from the table, he'll be striding over to you, pressing you into the wall so he can kiss you fiercely, nearly sucking your breath away, pulling back, he'd rest his forehead against yours and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

jihoon

he's already awake when you wake up, as expected. you realize jihoon isn't in the bed with you when you open your eyes groggily, glancing around your room before hearing some noises come from the kitchen. you take this passing moment as your chance to fall back into the bed, rubbing your eyes and letting all your thoughts from the night before sink in. jihoon will undeniably want to talk this issue out as soon as he finds out you're awake and don't get me wrong—you'd love to do that too—but you just need a moment to collect your thoughts and think about exactly what you'd want to say to him. after you feel like you've thought enough, you're peeling the covers off of yourself and following the noises from the rest of your apartment to finally catch him in the kitchen, cleaning some dishes. he whips his head around immediately when he hears your footsteps, telling you, "let me finish this for a minute and then we can talk." you nod in agreement, sitting yourself down at one of the tall chairs at your kitchen island, waiting for him to finish. once he's done, jihoon pulls up the chair next to you, swiveling it so that he directly face you. "how's your voice?" is the first thing he asks, voice clearly concerned. you purse your lips, realizing that you haven't spoken since last night. when you respond to him, it's not nearly as hoarse as the night before, but it still comes out as a little strained, causing jihoon to frown. he reaches over a hand to interlock his fingers with yours before he encourages you to talk about what's on your mind. once your done with your own long tangent, he follows with his own response. you both kind of go back and forth like this, letting each other speak and comprehend until all of your emotions and thoughts are out in the open. it doesn't take more than half an hour for you both to come to a solution, you feeling more relieved than anything that this issue is out of the way. you're so happy, in fact, that you pull him into a kiss right after jihoon says, "okay, then it's all good now." he's a little taken aback by your immediate forwardness but the blush on his cheeks tells you all that you need to know—he loves you and you love him and that is all that you need, now or ever.

#seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #jeonghan x reader #woozi x reader #wonwoo x reader #junhui x reader #jun x reader #joshua x reader #hong jisoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #hoshi x reader #soonyoung x reader #💌 drabbles

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hearts4golbach · 29 days

Note

Hey can I request y/n surprising Billie at the Grammys? Thanks

Double-Winner.

Billie Eilish x Fem!Reader.

a/n: sorry this is so short, i had no clue how to fulfill this tbh but i tried my best! hope you like it x

"bil, for the last time," I sighed heavily, "im not going to be able to make it. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

billie whined on the other end of the phone, "it's not the same, ma."

I continued packing my suitcase. "I know, babe, but you know I have a huge meeting that I can not miss."

she grumbled, "I know." I heard water running and movement. "Wish me luck." she muttered as she began to brush her teeth.

"i'll be manifesting for you," i joke, walking to the bathroom to prepare my toiletries. "You're going to win the grammy." i reassure her.

i could hear her take a deep breath and sigh. "Yeah, hopefully. i think i should go to bed, big day tomorrow." she cheesed.

"Alright," i say dramatically. "If you have to."

she made a kiss noise, "i love ya."

"i love you too. Text me when you're up." i kissed her back before she hung up.

i checked the time on my phone, silently thanking billie for hanging up at the perfect time. i zipped up my suitcase and threw on my slides before walking out of the house. i double-checked to make sure the door was walked before i drove off towards the airport.

the cool winter breeze caught me off guard as i stepped out of my warm car. i dreaded all of the airport security traffic. it took me forever to get through everything, but i had finally made it on the flight that would take me to surprise billie.

i found out 3 hours before she called me that the meeting was canceled, and i decided i was going to surprise her. i booked the fastest flight and sound one that was perfect. i was surprised it was still available.

i sat peacefully on the plane, drinking Sprite and eating the iconic honey roasted peanuts. of course, i spent the whole time worrying over billies' reactions. would she be mad that i lied to her? i pondered back and forth, defending each argument for yes and no over in my mind.

the loud, robotic sounding woman over the speakers awoke me from my sleep. i rushed to get off the plane as i only had 2 hours to make it in time to see billie. i went to the nearest airport restroom and changed into my stunning dress that i had been saving for a really special occasion. it was a long, ruby red silk slip dress. it had a slit in the right legs and was long enough to trail behind me. i had straightened my hair before i left, and it had managed to stay intact. i did quick but elegant makeup and called my Uber.

the wait for the Uber was spent getting cat called by older men while waiting for billie to text me back.

me: How's your morning going, babe? i miss you

billie ❤️: it's going good, just doing hair and make up

billie ❤️: you?

billie ❤️: i miss you sm mama

me: just been thinking about you

billie: i gotta go get dressed, text you after ❤️

me: sounds goood

the Uber arrived and took me to my hotel room, which i had to rush to get ready since i was running late.

i basically threw on the dress that complimented hers, so i had enough time for makeup. luckly, i didn't like to do heavy makeup.

whenever i was finally done, billie texted me.

billie ❤️: god everything reminds me of how much i wish you could be here.

billie ❤️: theres an extra seat at the table for some reason

me: hm thats weird, dont worry, though i have the live video pulled up right now

i lied as i climbed into the Uber. i told the man my destination, and he began driving. butterflies were building up, and i couldn't wait to see her reaction.

i made it right in time, making it in time for the music related awards. i chatted with Lizzie Grant, one of my favorite music artists, as i waited for billie to leave the table so i could sneak in.

whenever they finally announced the first award for "what was i made for?" she got up and walked onto the stage.

i slid into my seat quietly, waving to finneas and claudia, who were in on the surprise.

i admired billie on stage. i was so proud of her. I couldn't contain it. a stupid smile spread on my face as i saw her bright smile on stage.

"Thank you so much. i really couldn't have done it without y/n and finneas. i love you too, and im so sorry you couldn't be here, baby." she blew a kiss to the camera, which i knew there'd be edits of later on.

she walked back, thanking all the people who congratulated her as she walked by.

she was only a few feet away whenever she made eye contact with me. her face lit up, and her smile grew. she ran towards me, pulling me out of my chair and capturing me in a tight hug. she peppered my face in kisses before finally meeting my lips. she held her lips on mine, and i didn't want her to pull away.

"You actually made it!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around my waist.

"How could i miss it?! my meeting got rescheduled, but i was planning on surprising you anyway. so everything worked out in the end." i explained.

"When did you get here?" she asked, her smile never fading.

"literally 2 and a half hours ago." i laughed, my arms snaking around her neck. "im so proud of you, bil."

"Thank you, mama." she pecked my lips once more, "i love you."

"i love you more." i smiled, "youre amazing. you deserve this so much."

billie went on to win another grammy. needless to say, we celebrated a lot that night.

#fanfiction #fanfic #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish #billie eilish x you #billie eilish x y/n #fluff #grammys #what was i made for #happier than ever #when we all fall asleep where do we go #dont smile at me #hearts4golbach

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sl-ut · 1 year

Text

tipsy

pairing: jake lockley x fem!reader, slight marc spector and steven grant x fem!reader (reader is in a relationship with the system)

description: y/n returns from a night out with her girls and can’t resist from how beautiful her boyfriend is.

warnings: SMUT, reader is intoxicated (just tipsy, not wasted) and kind of a bitch, mocking, oral (m receiving), shower sex, moonboys arguing

words: 3K

date posted: 18/01/23

The apartment was silent when Jake jolted awake, save for the bubbling of Gus’s fish tank and the faded roar of London’s nightlife. He groaned, neck clicking back into place as he leaned back into the desk chair, cursing at Steven for nodding off in such an uncomfortable position. His sight was fuzzy, eyes still heavy with sleep as he glanced at his surroundings; several books on Egyptology laid spread open across the top of the desk, an uncapped highlighter tossed carelessly on the floor and a series of fluorescent yellow smudges staining his fingertips. Sighing, he pushed himself away from the desk, leaving it exactly how he found it–Steven could clean up his own mess–as he reached into the cupboard for a bottle of amber whiskey.

He took three small sips from it, careful not to allow himself to feel any sort of strong effects from the alcohol, as he always did when Y/n went out with her friends, always prepared to go pick her up in the early hours of the morning if he needed. He glanced at the clock on the oven, squinting to read the bright green letters.

3:36 AM.

His eyes immediately shot over to the bed, alarmed when he found the blankets in the same haphazardly made fashion that Steven had left them in as he rushed out the door to work; the boys had quickly learned to do so in order to avoid a lecture from their girlfriend.

“Damn it Steven, you were supposed to stay awake until she got home,” He swore as he turned to meet Steven’s snarky stare in the reflection of the window.

I’m sorry, but she’s not normally out this late, Steven huffed, Usually a night out has her home and in bed by midnight.

Jake, He turned his head to find Marc in the reflection of Gus’s tank, He's right, she should be home by now.

Panic arose in his chest. Quickly, he abandoned the bottle of whiskey on the desk as he crossed the small studio apartment, forcing himself through the closed bathroom door. He called her name frantically, catching Steven once again in the bathroom mirror.

I’m sure she’s alright, maybe she called after I nodded off.

Jake nodded, turning into the bedroom and pausing. The personal cell phone that they all shared was not in its usual place on the bedside table, nor was it in the pants that Steven had worn to work that day, or small pocket inside his satchel. Jake ignored the Brit’s yelling of discontent as he watched him dump the contents of his brown leather bag on the floor, searching through the mess of papers and granola bar wrappers.

“Where the hell did you leave it, Steven?”

He stopped in his tracks at the sound of a key shakily being jammed into the lock, trained eyes watching as the lock began to turn and the door slowly creaked open, and finally letting out a breath of air as he watched his girlfriend stumble over the threshold of the apartment.

“Helloooooo,” She sang out, jumbled giggled falling from her lips, “I’m here, somebody come love me, please!”

Jake shook his head as he stifled his chuckle, stepping forward and into the dim lighting provided by Steven’s desk lamp. His eyes did a quick scan over her body, searching for any sign of blood or injury, though the only sign of a struggle was the long run in her tights and her lack of shoes.

Her eyes lit up at the sight of him, though a mischievous grin spread across her cheeks as she leaned across the back of the couch, “Well hey there, big boy.”

He smirked, copying her posture as he rested his shoulder against one of the many vertical beams. He could tell by the way that she was looking at him that she was attempting to figure out exactly who she was talking to. Her eyes flickered over to the desk, taking in the dishevelled appearance of the books and the man who had once been sitting there.

“Are you just gonna stand there?”

He nodded at her, refusing to speak so that she would need to guess which one of the three it was. On a regular day, it would be easy for her, but in her state it might have been more difficult.

“Well,” she slid forward to stand in front of the desk, “These are all Steven’s books here, but from the looks of them,” she fingered at the crumpled and folded pages before glancing over her shoulder at him, “And you, he fell asleep.” She turned, pushing the books back so that she could boost herself onto the edge of the wooden desk, “But Steven doesn’t drink whiskey.”

Jake nodded once more as she gazed at him through hooded eyes, slowly fluttering her lashes in a manner that she knew would have any of them weak in the knees. He shifted, crossing his arms over his chest to mock the way that Marc might stand.

“Hi Jake.”

He scoffed, dropping his arms as he crossed the room to stand right in front of her. He allowed her to tug him closer, wrapping her legs around his waist and sliding her hands over his arms to knead his biceps gently.

“How’d you know it wasn’t Marc?”

She smirked up at him, leaning closer to whisper into his ear, “You didn’t look grumpy enough.”

His head rolled back as a hearty laugh rumbled out of his chest, growing even deeper as Marc shouted in protest and Steven agreed with her.

“Oh,” He rested his hand on his belly, “He didn’t like that, princesa.”

She shrugged, leaning forward to nudge his nose with her own, “He can punish me for it later. But for now…” Her hands slid down his arms, around his back and landed just above his bum as she tightened her legs around him, “I’m all yours.”

He allowed her to press a warm, sloppy kiss to his awaiting lips, but didn’t allow it go any further as she began to wiggle against him.

“We were worried about you,” He told her, “You’re usually home a lot earlier.”

“I know,” She shrugged, “I called and texted.”

“I couldn’t find the phone,” He admitted.

She raised a brow as she glanced down, nodding in the direction of where the phone was almost entirely covered in scattered paper, save for the corner.

“Well apparently I didn’t look quite as hard as I could have.”

“Apparently not.”

Where are her shoes?

“What happened to your shoes?” He asked, both genuinely concerned and hoping to change the subject from his failure to find a scarcely hidden cell phone.

“I took them off.” She shrugged, “I think Jenny has them.”

Now what if she had stepped on a needle or-or a sharp rock?

Check her feet, they might be bleeding.

Jake did as Marc instructed, stepping away and unwrapping himself from her limbs so that he could inspect her feet. They were dirty, of course, and the sheer fabric around the bottoms of her feet was torn up. There appeared to have been a few scrapes from the sidewalk, but the worst of the injuries were the two large busted blisters on each of her heels, oozing blood and various other fluids.

“Shit, cariño.” Jake rushed to the bathroom, returning a moment later with the first aid kit.

“That’s why I took ‘em off.” She shrugged, leaning back on her palms and allowing him to care for her feet, flinching as his fingers touched the swollen areas around the blisters.

He sat in the unsteady office chair, carefully pulling her feet into his lap and tugging at the tights, “Can I rip these?”

She barked out a laugh, “Now you’re asking? You’ve ripped a lot of my nicer things off of me without any notice.”

He grinned up at her, ignoring the heat that grew in the tips of his ears at her lewdness. One thing that he always appreciated about these nights out was that she always lost all shyness and reservation the moment that a single drop of alcohol touched her tongue.

“You certainly didn’t mind all those other times.”

“That’s because you rocked my world right afterwards. You gonna do that now?”

He glanced down, not ignorant to the way that his pants grew tighter at her words.

She’s drunk, Steven argued, Don’t take advantage of her.

“You’re drunk,” He noted, tearing the material away from her feet and beginning to dab at the open sores.

“Tipsy,” She corrected, “And horny. Please?”

He shook his head softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her kneecap, “Tomorrow, cariño.”

Y/n groaned, “I don’t want it tomorrow.”

He raised his brow as he finished cleaning her heels, “Oh really? I’ll keep that in mind. Now come on, let’s go to bed.”

She shook her head, pushing past him–making sure to bump his shoulder as she did so–and pausing in the bathroom doorway, “I need to shower.”

He sighed, carefully packing the first-aid kit back up and leaving it on the desk before making his way over to the bed. He leaned back against the headboard, glancing over to the partially closed bathroom door, only allowing him to see the vanity, though the mirror allowed him to see the figure he’d been longing for.

He watched the reflection as she carefully peeled herself free of the ruined tights before reaching for the zipper on the side of her dress. His breathing became laboured as he watched each article to fall away, leaving her bare to the world as the mirror began to gloss over with steam.

Go for it, Marc advised, If she’s really that mad about it then she’s definitely not that drunk. She’s never this unreasonable when she’s drunk.

Don’t, Steven argued, She’ll get over it.

Jake groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly as the two argued in his mind, “Shut up, both of you. I can’t even hear myself think.”

He pondered for a moment, then finally made his decision.

The bathroom was frosted in steam, Jake’s body temperature skyrocketing as he stepped inside. He glanced down at the pile of discarded clothing on the floor, withholding a groan as he recognized the familiar pair of pink lace panties that had been thrown on top, carefully dropping his own clothes on top.

The curtain prevented him from spotting any details, but he could faintly make out her figure as she stood beneath the pounding stream of hot water. She did not seem surprised to hear the curtain run quietly along the track as he stepped in, refusing to turn to face him as he stepped into the stream as well, wrapping his arms carefully around her waist and holding her back to his chest.

“I’m sorry,” He murmured into her neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake, “I don’t wanna take advantage of you, mi amor.”

She was frustrated with him, but she simply couldn’t avoid the way that she slumped into his embrace so easily. She sighed, tilting her head back to rest against his shoulder as their eyes met, a silent understanding.

“You wouldn’t be,” She argued softly, “But it’s okay.”

He kissed her lips softly, one hand coming up to grasp at her hair and help her to remove the remaining suds of shampoo. He pushed her gently to stand a bit further from him, allowing him to run a generous amount of conditioner through the ends of her hair. When he was finished, she turned, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and pressing herself against him.

“I love you,” She whispered into his shoulder, but he heard nonetheless.

“Yo también te amo angel.”

He felt the corners of her lips turn up against his flesh as she glanced up at him, wickedness clear in her eyes.

“What are you–oh!”

He gasped as her hand moved down, wrapping firmly around his length, which had been unabashedly erect against her thigh as they embraced, proving to her that he truly did want her.

“Let me do you,” She whispered to him, beginning to administer slow pumps, “That’s all. Please, Jakey.”

NO!

Looks like she’s going to either way, bud. May as well enjoy it.

She kissed him softly, taking his eager response to her as permission. Cautious not to slip, she lowered herself to kneel in front of him, gazing up at him through her lashes as she carefully dragged her tongue up the bottom of him, cupping his sack in her slick palm.

He groaned, leaning back against the wall in submission to her. She giggled, pressing the softest of kisses to his flesh before finally taking as much of him into her mouth as she could manage. Jake choked on his own spit, one hand carefully finding the nape of her neck to support her movements while the other ran through his own locks, smoothing the wet curls out of his face so they couldn’t obstruct his view.

“Baby-shit,” His hips stuttered forward, his tip grazing the back of her throat.

Her mouth curved around him, though she did not pause or slow her movements to respond with some witty comment, as he knew she had wanted to.

Hey!

His eyes snapped up, finding Steven staring back at him in the reflection of the stainless steel shower head.

“W-what now?” He stammered out, not noticing the way that she glanced up at him, but didn’t stop; she was more than accustomed to the boys talking and arguing with one another while she was having sex with one of them.

Shut the water off! I don’t even wanna look at the bill we’re gonna get this month.

Jake almost laughed, hell, he probably would have if he hadn’t been balls-deep in his girlfriend’s mouth. Reaching over, he grasped the handle and turned the water off before turning back to watching her. She raised a brow, a silent question.

“Steven complained about the water bill,” He explained, groaning as she choked slightly around him as a small laugh vibrated around her body.

He pressed on the back of her neck, prolonging the feeling of her choking around him for a few moments before pulling her back and hauling her up to her feet. His lips met hers in a furious kiss, tongues intertwining and teeth gnashing as he grasped at her thighs, carrying her out of the shower and dropping her onto the countertop as if she were a doll.

Eagerly, she spread her legs, grinding against him. He pulled away, moving down her body in hopes of returning the favour, though he was stopped by her, grasping his chin tightly and pulling him back up.

“No, no,” She gasped, “I need you. Please, I just need–”

“It’s okay,” He soothed, pulling her to the edge of the counter and lining himself up, “I got you, I got you.”

He slid into her easily, her folds sopping with arousal. Another perk of these nights out was that she was always so ready for him, and was always so responsive to his touch. He laughed as she squirmed against him, crying out louder than she normally would as his tip kissed her cervix.

Y/n rocked against him, meeting his every thrust without fail and shivering as her clit continued to be tickled by the dark curls on his pubis. Her arms wound around him, nails leaving crescent-shaped indents in his muscular back as she gripped him for dear-life.

“Jake,” she gasped, “I’m not gonna last long.”

“I know,” He grunted, hands grasping her bum to pull her into his thrusts even more, “Me neither, princesa.”

“I love you,” She cried out over and over as if it were some spell that she might have been using to bewitch him–that was the only way that Jake could explain how he was so easily manipulated by her every whim and became so enthralled by her simple presence.

“I love you,” He panted, “I fucking love you.”

His mouth took her lips, absorbing every sigh and moan that dared escape and committing them to memory. He wanted to encase every little bit of her being within himself, consume anything that she was willing to offer, especially her jerking movements and desperate whines as she tightened around him, spilling her release all over his member as he struggled to hold on.

“Come on,” She urged him, eyes hooded and hazy as she came down from her high, “Jake, come on. Please give it to me.”

Her words were enough, his hips stuttering through his final few thrusts before white-hot pleasure exploded within him. He groaned out loudly, following through with a few gentle movements to work himself through it before he slipped out.

They remained there for a few moments, wrapped in each other’s arms as they both came down, melting into one another and whispering sweet nothings. She kissed his shoulder softly, then reached up to meet his lips once more, allowing herself to force every ounce of love she had for him to flow through the embrace.

He chuckled when she pulled away, “Aren’t you glad I said no now?”

She shook her head, “You only made yourself suffer, I could have woken up Marc or Steven to do me the second you fell asleep. I was getting it one way or another.”

He frowned at her, pinching her thigh in retaliation, “You think that either of them could do what I just did?”

Watch it, amigo. I could have done her twice as hard as you did.

Jake grinned at his reflection over her shoulder turning back to his girlfriend, “By the way, Marc called you unreasonable.”

HEY!

#jake lockely imagine #jake lockely smut #jake lockely x reader #marc spector #marc spector fic #steven grant #steven grant x reader #moon knight #jake lockely fic #marvel #mcu #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine

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sanjisblackasswife · 1 year

Note

Monster trio reacting to their dicks not being able to fit- ooh Chile 🥲

🙃😀

Monster Trio Reacting to You Being Too Tight (NSFW)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Safe Word Used, Mentions of Sex, Zoro is an Implied Virgin

Luffy

This is Luffy we are talking about he wouldn’t tell the difference unless you screamed it at him

And that you did.

“LUFFY BABY WAIT! RED! RED!”

His tip wasn’t even in completely in and it felt like he was stretching you for all you were worth.

“What?! What?!”

“You’re…You’re….”

“What you want me to stretch it?”

“NO! …the opposite actually.”

This was the first time you ever had to ask him of that and so a very smug and dopey smile crawled across his face while still being in between your legs.

“Ah…i’m too big for you today?” He sings right in your ear with a chuckle.

“Shut up Luffy are you ganna do it or n—-AH!”

He shrinks it just enough to where the painful stretch is gone, but now he has more leeway to pick up the pace in his thrusting.

“Like this!?” Luffy huffs, hands gripped the headboard, hips nearly turning into a blur pounding your cunt. “There you go !”

He did all this without pulling out once.

He’s so caring.

Zoro

You and Zoro didn’t think this would have been something you both would encounter. Nearly crying for him to stop and he was only 1/3 inside you.

Granted this is his first time.

He’s a big boy and so when you first seen his…4th sword you guided him on how to prep you nicely, stretch you out with his fingers, and everything. Zoro being an internal nervous wreck wanted to be extra cautious so the foreplay lastest well over an hour with him.

But even in that hour still couldn’t prepare him or you for how tight you were

“F-fuck! You’re so—! …Hey?”

You kept covering your face with your hands literally gnawing at your lip nearly making it bleed trying to ignore the sting and pain. Maybe it wasn’t a good day to have sex with him for the first time, because you just couldn’t understand why everything felt so painful right now.

“You should have told me, woman I never wanna keep going if this hurts!”

The last thing Zoro would ever want is to hurt you. He couldn’t care less about him needing to get off if you also wasn’t enjoying yourself.

You felt so much guilt when he slowly pulled out that you tried to insist to keep going, but he wouldn’t back down.

He ignored your cries and pouts to place a blanket over you both and cuddle as you were on top of his chest.

“Stop it dammit.” He hisses at you trying to sleep, feeling your body grind on his soft cock. You swore you could take it again, which started to annoy him because he didn’t mind not finishing.

“Can i at least….suck it…again as an apology.”

You’re so lucky he was hoping you’d offer that.

Sanji

Sanji became a quick learner of your body. He knows what to do to make your leg twitch, your back arch, even down to how you moan.

He never did any wrong when it came to giving you the upmost pleasure.

Today must have been an off day for him and you both because after 30 minutes of foreplay he felt like you were stretched out enough, but he was so so wrong.

“Sweet—ah-heart you okay? You’re tighter than usual.”

You wanted so badly to be a good girl and take it, so you nodd trying to refocus you attention on something else other than the sting, but the moment he bottoms out you practically scream in his ear.

You scared the man btw.

“OH FUCK! Y/N!? ARE YOU OKAY?!”

You felt so awkward letting out such a dramatic cry, but it just inflicted so much pain you almost shed a tear.

And you did actually.

Sanji was too afraid to move, still fully inside you he looks at your face to caress and pepper your face in soft kisses.

Sanji damn near cries too because the last thing he would ever want is for you to feel uncomfortable. You explain that you must have been a bit more tense than usual and Sanji being Sanji understands and talks you through it as he slowly pulls himself out.

“Here…Let me make it up to you.”

You wanted to try to explain to him it’s okay and yall can try again but it was too late.

Sanji’s tongue was already in between your slit before you could protest.

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satorustyles · 10 months

Text

you can't fall asleep (a gojo one shot)

a/n: hi! yay to my first post! i'm still exploring the jjk fandom and spoiling myself with fics and drabbles while waiting for the next episode, and this definitely won't be the last one i'm writing! i'll be making more parts of this with the other jjk men but for now, pls enjoy this gojo one shot! -bear

nanami kento version here!

sukuna version here!

warnings: none, just pure fluff and sleepy!reader <3

word count: 851

Whenever you felt restless and needed to get enough sleep for a mission the next day, Gojo was always one step ahead of making sure you slept early. He's the one who assigned you on that mission, anyway. So, of course, as your teacher (and lover), he always ensured that his student got enough rest, not knowing the outcome of every mission. It would range from a few hours to a few days. The longest one you've been on was three days, and Gojo felt terrible for keeping you up the evening prior.

You tossed and turned in your shared bed, crying that the chamomile tea your boyfriend prepared for you did not make you sleepy at all. You stared at the small digital clock on your bedside table, the green numbers glowing 11:21 PM. You were going to meet the rest of the team at five in the morning.

You wanted to cry.

Gojo was still outside in the living room, talking to Utahime on the phone, finalizing the plans for the mission the next day. From the open door of your bedroom, you could hear the seriousness in his tone and you didn't want to interrupt him. Knowing Gojo, he would just drop whatever he was doing and tend to you, whatever you needed. Not that you complained about that.

But you were just getting desperate. Every second you spent awake was a second wasted that was supposed to be for sleeping. You had no choice but to whine about it to your boyfriend.

With your blanket wrapped around your shoulders, you made your way to the dark living room. The only light visible was the one coming from the muted television, illuminating the small space and your boyfriend's lean and slender figure on the couch, phone propped up against his ear.

He immediately noticed your form standing by the doorway, his bright blue eyes staring down at you despite the darkness of the room. Utahime was still talking on the phone, but his attention was already on you, smiling as he gestured for you to come near him.

"Hi," He whispered once you were in front of him. "Sorry, did I make you wait long? C'mere." He held your wrist and gently tugged you down towards him, and you situated yourself on his lap and rested your head on the crook of his neck. His strong arm was quick to wrap you closer to him, keeping his hold on you tight while his other hand held onto his phone.

"Utahime, I gotta go. I'll call you back in the morning." Without waiting for the teacher's response, he hung up and dropped his phone next to him with a soft thud.

"Angel," He whispered, dipping his head and kissing your forehead softly. "I thought you were already asleep."

"I can't sleep, Gojo." You grumbled frustratedly. The white-haired man could only chuckle amusedly as he fixed your position on his lap, granting him access to your neck. He began trailing soft kisses down your jaw, trailing down to your neck and shoulders. His hands gripped the edges of your blanket and wrapped them tighter around your body, trapping your arms inside.

"My poor baby," He cooed softly, nuzzling his head against your neck. "Were you waiting for me to help you sleep?"

You could only muster a grumbled sound, enough to confirm Gojo's inkling. He smiled fondly at your grumpy attitude, keeping himself from laughing lest he wanted his baby to get even angrier. No, sir, he definitely knew better.

He then stood up, carrying you with him bridal style as he made his way to your bedroom. He then gently put you down and you watched as he positioned himself behind you, leaning his back against the headboard and pulling you towards him.

"Will this do?" He whispered to you, and you turned around to meet his face before plopping yourself on top of him, your stomach against his and your head resting on his chest. You wrapped your arms around his waist as Gojo's hand reached up to push the strands of hair back from your forehead before he planted another soft kiss, the feel of his lips on your skin making you warm and fuzzy inside. It's like he has some kind of magic against you that always made you weak when he was this close to you.

Which was why you always needed him whenever you couldn't sleep.

"Sleep, doll." He whispered against your skin, rubbing slow circles on your back, eventually making you sleepy. Yes, finally. "I'll be right here with you."

“I love you,” You sighed contentedly, planting a soft kiss on his chest and you could feel the way his breath hitched at the action.

“I love you, sweet one.” He whispered back, his one arm pulling you closer to him whilst his other hand continued to rub your back soothingly, the feel of his long fingers tracing the curve of your back pulling you to sleep with every breath. “Tomorrow, I’ll be watching closely when you leave for your mission. You don’t need to worry about anything.”

#gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo one shot #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk #jjk 2 #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #bear writes

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strawberry-whorecake · 9 months

Text

Good Girl | K.R.

pairing: Kylo Ren x fem!reader

summary: Kylo had something you needed… just like he always did. So you found yourself sneaking around Starkiller Base for the satisfaction of your urges.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: swearing, dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), PinV sex, praise

a/n: holy shit- can i just say thank you for all the interaction i’ve been getting on my fics-?? i’m genuinely floored, i was just writing and posting these for my own self-indulgence but it means literally so much that you guys have been enjoying them omg. since you enjoyed kylo so much last time heres a small lil smut in means of my appreciation <3

What the fuck were you doing?!

You rushed down the halls ducking around corners, peering for a sign of any wanderers on Starkiller Base. You were terrified of being caught, but your impulse to sneak out of your quarters and into the Commander’s came strong and suddenly.

Metallic footprints drew closer in front of you, eliciting a gasp from your throat which you quickly entrapped with the clasp of your hand as you ducked into an unseen corner. The footsteps neared– then faded, finally vanishing as you watched the Stormtrooper disappear from sight.

That was fucking close… so why were you doing this again?

Your urges got the best of you, and now you were creeping around the base because it was well into the late hours of the night– or arguably the early hours of the morning, and Kylo had something you needed… just like he always did.

You waited around the corner for another couple seconds to make sure no one else would come around, and to your relief the halls were void, so you continued on your journey to the Commander’s chambers.

As you walked you scrutinized yourself, questioning how you’d fallen into the face of this predicament in the first place. You were a meer engineer, assigned to working on ships that flew in and out of the base.

You recalled your first meeting with Kylo Ren, and how he immediately captivated and terrified you– and he of course knew, and played into. Somehow this thing had bloomed between you two, and you weren’t particularly interested in snuffing out its flame any time soon.

After a while of stalking around with your guard up to not be caught, you reached his door.

Glancing over your shoulders for any wanderers, you cursed yourself– no one was permitted in Kylo’s quarters without his direct permission, of course the halls would be void.

You shook your head and quickly inputted the code to his lock system, listening to the metal doors reluctantly squeal open only seconds later.

Dipping inside you peered around, his neat and orderly chambers were dark, and your eyes found his bed– found him, sleeping on one side.

You watched the doors close behind you as you slipped off your shoes, leaving them in the doorway. Slowly you crept through his room, approaching his bed. As you drew nearer you pulled your top over your head before crawling in next to him.

Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. Kylo was unpredictable– you had no way of knowing if he would be pleased with your appearance, or if he’d Force-throw you out of his chambers. Sure, he’d granted you permission to his quarters, under the premise he was in them, but how would he react to you waking him up?

Swallowing down your nerves, you gently caressed his cheek with your finger, which made him inhale deeply and stir despite still being asleep.

Taking hold of his cheek you led his lips to yours, kissing him. When his lips met your own his eyes fluttered open slowly. At first his kiss was confused but it rather quickly grew hot and rough.

Without tearing your mouth from his you gently pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him. He pulled away only for a moment, just to take you in– and he smirked before pulling your face into his and kissing you hungrily.

His tongue twisted fervidly with yours, hot, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and soft sounds of already growing pleasure leaked from your lips. When he pulled back again, his plush pink lips glistened with the mix of your saliva.

“I missed this.” he growled and warmth developed as you felt him grow hard beneath you.

His kisses trailed from your lips down your jawline before they landed on your neck, sucking and nibbling at your skin.

A moan escaped from your throat despite trying to suppress it by clenching your teeth to your lip. You pulled away from him and lowered yourself to his abdomen, kissing his exposed stomach and upper pelvis.

Your eyes looked up pleadingly as you pulled down his boxers, and he only hummed in response.

You licked your lips, building up wetness in your mouth as you took him in your hand, gently placing a kiss to his tip.

Despite barely touching him, you knew how much he missed you by the bead of precum already dripping from him.

Running your tongue along his base, you then placed him in your mouth, drawing in your cheeks and sucking at his length until you pulled a groan from his throat.

He instinctively grabbed the back of your head, pushing himself deeper into your mouth, and making you gag lightly on his cock.

You looked up, watching as he smirked. “Good girl.” he cooed.

You caressed his skin as you swallowed him. “Fuck…” he let his dark waves crash against his pillow as he threw his head back. His brow furrowed lightly as his eyes fluttered shut. One of his hands still gripped your head while the other folded behind his own head.

He looked incredible like this, the blinking stars gently illuminating him in a soft glow from the window positioned behind his bed. The muscles in his arms rippling as he let himself enjoy what you had to offer him, the sight of him quickly reminded you of why you risked coming to his quarters in the first place.

His pleasure made you eager to keep going, and the arousal flooding between your own legs was increasingly difficult to ignore. You couldn’t wait any longer to have him as you slipped off of him and stripped yourself of the rest of your clothing, leaving yourself bare for him.

You ignored the warmth that flooded to your cheeks as he looked you over, his stature relaxed with his arm still casually placed behind his head.

You pulled at his boxers, removing them from his legs before disregarding them to the floor with your clothes. Crawling back on top of him you took him once more in your hand as you led him inside you.

Although this was farthest from your first time with Kylo, you would never be prepared for his size.

Your mouth gaped as he entered you, squirming atop him as you worked to adjust to his size as he split you to the seam. He only chuckled as he watched you, but after a few moments you began riding him, dragging your hips against his.

He moaned as you lowered yourself further onto him, his cock delving deeper into you. His arms wrapped around your frame and flipped you onto your back.

He leveled himself up by placing one hand on the bed beside your head as the other gripped harshly at your throat. A soft gasp managed to escape from your slack lips and he loosened his grip– just slightly.

His own impatience took over as he pushed into you, not holding back. You whimpered at the sudden force and reached up for his arm clamped around your neck for something to hold onto.

He smirked, shaking your hands off of him as he quickly caught them with both of his own and pinned them above your head before kissing you deeply and with need.

He withdrew himself only to thrust back in, creating a pattern as he did so. His pace quickened as he swapped your pinned wrists to one hand, letting his now free hand find your chest, kneading and toying with your breasts. His thumb flicked at your bud making you mewl out again.

You wiggled out of his grip, which he let you, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling his body closer to you.

He pounded into you faster, then slower, then harder– all rather quickly. His cock stroked your walls, cockhead prodding against that sweet spot that made your stomach churn in the best possible way.

“Fuck... Ah- Kylo-” you groaned as you felt him pummeling against your core, tangling your legs around his waist. Your moans only continued to please him, proud of himself at how easily he could make you moan for him. He seized a handful of your hair into his fist and tugged slightly.

Wrapping your arms around his broad back you pulled him deeper into you, and he didn’t hold back. He rocked his body back and forth with yours, you both synced in sin.

The only sounds that filled the room were Kylo’s stuttered breaths, your moans, and the obscene sounds of skin slapping skin.

He grabbed for your throat and pulled you into a steamy kiss, his tongue pushing past your teeth before dancing with yours.

With every thrust inside you, you could feel yourself growing tighter as your walls clenched together, holding back euphoria. “Sh-shit- Kylo…” you mewled rather pathetically.

In a hushed tone he growled, “Beg.”

He fucked deeper into you than you thought was possible by now. “Kylo please I-” your words were cut off by a moan that was pulled from your throat at a particularly hasty thrust. You didn’t know how much longer you could take.

“I said beg, slut.” he growled again.

He could feel you drawing you in, your walls growing claustrophobic around him, and he knew you were close, so he kept going.

Quickening his pace, he placed your chin in his hand making you look at him while you pleaded.

He glared into your eyes, then let his gaze drift to your perfectly parted lips as he mouthed the word “Beg” once more.

Giving out you finally cried, “Please! Let me cum, Kylo-!” your mouth gaped, words straining out. Your eyes were barely open but remained locked on his.

Kylo let his tongue dart past his own slightly parted lips, wetting them as he stared down at you, desperate and begging.

He knew you didn’t have long before you had reached your limit, whether he wanted to deprive you of that or not, so he let you have it.

“Good girl.” He hunched over so his lips just barely touched your ear as he whispered, “Now cum for me.”

He himself didn’t have much longer with the way your velveteen walls stroked him with every buck of his hips. His pace was frantic as he slammed into you, watching the way your brows knit and you panted and moaned past your lips.

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving bites and kisses as he made his way to your collarbone– the cherry on top. You clung to him as you tightened around him, reaching your high in a pathetic array of moans.

Your vision faded out and shockwaves of electricity bolted through your nerves as you came around him, your walls milking him deliciously. He let out a groan of his own as his head lolled forward and he gripped your hips, pulling you down onto his cock.

With a final groan you felt your cunt flood with warmth as he came inside you, still driving his hips into yours.

His movements slowed, then stilled, and he pulled out of you with a grunt before laying down beside you. He pulled you close and coddled you through your finish. Your knees were lightly trembling which brought a smile to his face.

You buried your face into his chest as he let his fingers caress your skin before planting a kiss on your forehead, making your heart thump against your ribcage.

“Such a good girl.” he purred before placing a gentle kiss on your lips, “My good girl.”

Your face grew hot. The tone of his voice and his words alone made your heart skip a beat.

You were Commander Ren’s good girl.

#adam driver #adcu #adcu smut #adcu x reader #smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren smut #star wars smut #kylo ren x you #kylo ren #whorecake fics

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amvpk01 · 2 months

Text

PATHETIC YANDERE

unwanted obsession 3

when obsession goes beyond admiration, it turns into repulsion and the search for love becomes a path of rejection.

cw: non-con, obsession, rejection, violence, stalking, humiliation, kidnapping, manipulation, murder, mentions of torture

(sorry if it's bad, I lacked creativity and didn't even proofread this chapter, by the way, last of this Yandere)

previous || masterlist

How would you describe trust? Perhaps a son who leans on his mother for comfort or best friends who are always there for each other.

However, the truth is there was no concrete definition.

Sometimes trust came in the form of keeping a secret, sleeping at the house of a friend who was just a stranger before, or even having food made for you in the knowledge that it wouldn't be poisoned.

Yet humans reimaned weak in the face of emotions and life was just a game that only the egoists survived.

Perhaps you were to blame for getting him obsessed with your touch.

Your blame for chatting him up at school.

Your blame for messing with his feelings.

Your blame for not blocking him when he texted you.

The regret was real and too painful to handle, but it wasn't possible to go back in time. You have to bear the consequences of your past actions and look for a way to undo them.

The process was slow and you were fully aware of it. The best thing you could do was start with small actions. By stopping pushing him away every time he came near, saying small 'thanks' or ceasing to speak insulting words.

After a month, you had to eat your pride. Whether it was crying for him to sleep with you saying you'd had a bad dream or begging for attention while you hugged him.

It was apparent that he enjoyed it and trusted that you were starting to fall in love with him in the same way he loved you.

But he was no fool, you were a liar, a manipulator and a deceiver. Yet he loved you in the same way.

Therefore, he needed to test you before granting you the tiniest bit of freedom. Like, for example, the first time he took the chain off your neck and then left you alone in the bedroom 'forgetting' to check the door. When in fact he was sat outside the room just waiting for you to attempt to run away. But you remained inside for hours, and not once did you turn the doorknob.

At one point he let you go into the kitchen as you wanted to eat your meal and when he saw your handiwork he was stunned. A few weeks ago he lied saying he was allergic to a certain food but you didn't add it to his food claiming you didn't want to see him get sick.

Perhaps he was already sick in love with you.

Your touch, your caress, and even your kisses left him wanting more. His hands squeezed your breasts and then traveled down to your private area.

"W-Wait! I don't think... I'm r-ready for this yet."

"You've been telling me this for the fifth time now. I'm starting to feel like you're just winding me up." He'd been impatient for a while, and you only teased him with kisses and, in the end, stopped him before he got too far.

He didn't give you time to breathe as he dragged you in for another kiss. No longer would your hands be able to hold him. All the rough kisses and forbidden touches started to disgust you and left you wanting to scream. Then he started to lay you down and suddenly you felt the volume pressing up against your clothed area.

You couldn't allow that to happen without a fight.

"Ow! Was that because I touched you?" Wiping his lip, his finger touched a bit of blood. However, he noticed the way you tried to drag yourself out of the sheets. You were so cute, believing you'd get away with it just by sneaking around like a little mouse.

"Aren't you going to apologize? Love? Are you ignoring me?"

"..."

"Please don't..."

"Don't you love me? Maybe... this was all just you faking it?"

"What... No, you're mistaken! I just don't wanna do it!"

"You think I didn't notice? You don't like me and have been trying to manipulate me the whole time!"

No, you couldn't let the plan fail like that. Not when it was almost over.

"I love you, Theo! I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. Please believe me!"

"Lies... It's all lies. Maybe I should teach you so you never repeat it."

He freaked out out of nowhere as if he were a wild animal. Tearing your clothes, scratching your skin, and leaving you desperate.

Your attempts to cover yourself were shown to be failures. Your body started to get colder by the second and then realized you had nothing else on. Unlike Theo who was now removing his pants, revealing his swollen member covered by his underwear.

And another time, you tried to run away again but this time you were stopped by a strong pull on your scalp.

"Where do you think you're going, sneaking out like that?"

"Ah! Stop it, you're hurting me!"

"Oh? I am? Good then." Then he plunged your face into the pillow, catching you off guard. Bringing his hips closer to yours, you felt the tip of his cock caressing your entrance. Your screams, pleas, and cries came out incomprehensible through the pillow.

"Uh? What did you say? Do you want me to put it inside? With pleasure my love."

Suddenly it was like being ripped in half, he didn't care that you were dry inside and just shoved it all in at once. At this point you were starting to feel short of breath, maybe it would be better to pass out so you wouldn't have to remember this moment. But it seemed like that wasn't what Theo wanted. He pulled your body closer to his, everything was disgusting to you. His body heat, his possessive touch, and even his groans at being inside you.

"Oh~ So good. My love, can I move?"

"No- Ahh!"

"So warm..."

"No! No! No!! It hurts! It hurts so much! Please stop! Stop it!"

At first, he didn't move, letting you get used to his size. But you were mumbling for a considerable time, so he thought why not give you some pleasure? His hands went against your clitoris, giving small caresses.

He certainly found you adorable by the way you gasped in pain from his cock or refused to let him touch your pussy. It wasn't enough to stop him. And when you came on his dick after he played with your clitoris for minutes straight, he almost passed out with happiness.

Now that you weren't dry inside, he no longer saw any excuse not to fuck you. He turned you to face him with you covering your face from his while he penetrated you. At first, it was weak and slow, it was easy to suppress your moans but as time passed it became rough and fast.

Still, he wanted you to feel the same pleasure he felt. Did he think that a few kisses on the neck and face would solve everything? Nothing improved about the situation.

Most of the time you screamed, scratched his face, and then tried to crawl out of bed. All these attempts resulted in slaps or attempted suffocation.

Just attempts because he would never kill you.

It disgusted you as you felt his warm cum inside you. You could only think of taking the morning-after pill to avoid having a child, a baby that looked like him. All you wanted to do was close your eyes to forget everything, except you noticed his cock was still inside, giving you that uncomfortable feeling in your cervix. Panic was in your eyes as he began to thrust into you again. The smug smile on his face told you that it wasn't going to end any time soon, not when you'd kept him waiting for this moment for so long.

You can't remember when you slept. Even if your memories were messed up, your body would remember what happened. Though there was no stickiness between your legs, you could feel an immense pain from the waist down.

Trying to get out of bed felt like your whole body was under intense pressure, standing up and walking was difficult, but you managed to get in front of a mirror. So there you are, with your body full of bite marks, hickeys, and swollen eyes from all the crying you did last night.

Initially, you believed that he was just emotionally dependent and that you could play with his feelings as long as you didn't leave. However, in the end, he is just a disgusting monster who only takes what he wants in the end.

He didn't deserve to live.

You were going to kill him.

No, you needed to kill him.

The entire day you didn't say a word, nor did you dare get out of bed, hiding under the covers. It didn't matter if he called you, you wouldn't answer.

He didn't miss your bad mood. Theo thought he could cheer you up by treating you like a princess all day. After all, you'd given him immense pleasure last night, and for sure you were tired, so it would only be right to compensate you.

Kisses, affection, your favorite food and even all the attention in the world. At no point did he leave your side, even if you moved away or cried. All you said afterwards was "Leave me alone", which he didn't care about.

Perhaps at some point you freaked out and started throwing all kinds of objects at him to drive him away or break anything you saw in front of you.

"DON'T COME CLOSE TO ME!"

" Love, why don't you control yourself and give me that thing? You'll end up hurting yourself this way." He pointed at the sharp object in your hand, a few seconds earlier you had thrown a vase on the floor and ended up picking up the sharpest piece.

With each passing second, he approached you with a calm countenance, his hands outstretched for you to hand it to him. Glancing down at your palms, you noticed a burning sensation along with a thin line of blood. Then an idea flashed across your mind as you moved your hands closer to your neck.

"If you come any closer... I'll kill myself right here."

"Haha... How funny. Now quit joking and hand it to me."

"Do you really think I don't have the guts?"

"You wouldn't dare." His fear was palpable, you were someone unpredictable and therefore didn't know if you had the courage or not.

As soon as he saw the blade moving, his body acted on its own. His arm being cut off instead of your neck, preventing the blade from coming into contact with you.

He started to contain you by restraining your wrist in the hope that you would drop that sinful item, instead you fought back by kicking him right in the balls. Noticing that he'd dropped to his knees in pain, you didn't missed your chance and shoved the thing into his neck.

For the next few seconds, everything was a blur, Theo choking on his own blood as he tried to come to near you, as if the sight of you would make him less afraid of dying.

The gray carpet, red. Blood staining your feet along with the sounds incomprehensible and mumbling in the background. Neither the sound of your heart nor the cold pressure of the room consoled you at any time.

Yet you couldn't remain paralyzed at that moment, you needed to take action.

"Haha... How funny. Now quit joking and hand it to me."

"Do you really think I don't have the guts?"

"You wouldn't dare." His fear was palpable, you were someone unpredictable and therefore didn't know if you had the courage or not.

As soon as he saw the blade moving, his body acted on its own. His arm being cut off instead of your neck, preventing the blade from coming into contact with you.

For the next few seconds, everything was a blur, Theo choking on his own blood as he tried to come to near you, as if the sight of you would make him less afraid of dying. The gray carpet, red. Blood staining your feet along with the sounds incomprehensible and mumbling in the background. Neither the sound of your heart nor the cold pressure of the room consoled you at any time. Yet you couldn't remain paralyzed at that moment, you needed to do something.

One year has passed since his death. Everything seemed unreal and you often found yourself recalling that it had happened.

Fortunately, you weren't in your fertile period when having sex with him, so it turned out that you didn't get pregnant. One less problem.

Many people say that when a traumatic event occurs, the adrenaline and despair leave your mind cloudy and foggy, not letting you think about anything. But your action after killing someone had proved otherwise.

Your case ended up becoming famous on social media, mainly because of a phone call made by you. A phone call after you killed your kidnapper.

"Hello? This might be odd to say .... but I ended up killing someone... My kidnapper, Theo whatever his last name was.... Oh, I forgot to introduce myself, I'm [Name] [LastName]!"

You'd swear that 85% of your time was wasted watching edits of fictional characters with your audio, it was hilarious to see.

But even though it was possible to see your calmness at the time, your parents urged you to go to therapy, at first you tried but the mere fact that you kept returning to the same topic made you stop.

Taking that help would mean that Theo had impacted your life in a good or bad way and you'd rather die than admit that. In fact, it's him who's dead and not you, just thinking about it makes you laugh. At the end of the story, he'd lost and you were still alive, making a life for yourself.

Currently you were studying at the university of your dreams after passing a difficult exam. You had a big group of friends who all had the same acid humor. Also got a new pet, a super affectionate kitten called Merry. The first time you saw it, you almost died of cuteness.

Perhaps in the end you'll always have a good life while he rots in the ground.

#yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere #yandere fic #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere male x reader #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere male oc #yandere male oc x reader

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gaiathemexicanbeauty · 6 months

Text

it only takes a taste | mike schmidt x reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none! this is just pure fluff and maybe kind of slowburnish lol

this was loosely based off of it only takes a taste from the waitress musical! :3

idk i just really like the idea of late nights with mike even if he's too tired to even think straight lmao

also don't ask what time period this takes place in, i was born in 2004 and know like 2 things about the 70s-90s or whenever the movie takes place bc its never explicitly mentioned

i also do not regularly bake or cook so do not be afraid to go to my comment section and tell me if something sounds off

i love this man ok, i have said it 1000 times already but i've been in love with him ever since i first saw him when i was like 12 or 13 and was even more so obsessed with rebornica's mike design for YEARS. 12 year old me would have an aneurism if she knew about the fnaf movie

you let out a long yawn, one hand reaching up cover your mouth so as not to potentially ruin the mood of any customers around; granted, there was only two and they were graveyard shifters from somewhere outside of town but customers are customers. you'd been working at sparky's for a couple of months now, figuring it was an easy way to make some cash and keep food on the table. of course, you hadn't accounted for the very long hours that passed where you half debated trying to sneak away since no was around from 2-4:00 am: your boss would kill you, though, and you wanted to stay employed.

soft oldies music plays in the background as you glance over at the clock ticking away on the wall. just as you move to grab a rag to clean the counters for the 5th time during your shift, you hear the bell above the entrance jingle and don't even have to look up to know who it is.

mike wasn't a regular at first, just someone who popped in at random and very quietly asked for a coffee. after a while of starting a new job, he started coming in at almost 11:00 pm everyday and always asking for the same thing: just a plain, black coffee. "seriously?" you had said with a smirk the first time he said his order to you, your eyes widening at the attitude you had just given a customer. fortunately, mike was quick to respond with a tired but good natured laugh, his hands folded in front of him. "i'm all ears if you have other recommendations." he mumbled with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, giving you instant relief.

now, it was just clockwork. "hey." mike sighs with a soft sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes as he takes a seat at a chair by the counter you were standing behind. "coffee machine is kind of acting up tonight, you're gonna have to give it a minute. want anything else while you wait?" you say as you approach the counter, giving him a quick smile. mike is about to decline your offer, his lips parting to say something before his eyes land on something on the farther end of the counter. "what about that? still good?" "you're just in time. i was going to take the rest of it home." you say with a smile, walking over to the cake stand holding an apple pie with only 3 slices left of it. you take the lid off to plate it, handing it over to mike with a hum before bringing him utensils. you don't even get the chance to bring up to him that the slices have been sitting there for a couple of hours, blinking in shock at the way he's quick to start eating.

you turn your back to start taking down the chalkboard advertising the special from the day before, giving mike his one moment of quiet you were sure he needed. you start to think about what your day will consist of once you're done with your shift, dreading having to clean your room before you can actually sleep. "did you make this?" "yeah. why, is it bad?" you say with a chuckle, turning to look at mike again; your eyes widen a bit at the way mike is looking at you, his own eyes looking at you like he can't believe what he just put it in his mouth. "no, no, it's..it's really good, like. really good." your cheeks redden a bit at the sudden compliment, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear as you occasionally glance at him enjoying the pie you'd made; you wouldn't say you were amazing at cooking but you definitely knew enough to make a meal that would do more than just feed you.

it also didn't help that you'd been harboring a crush on mike for the past month. that you were aware of, he didn't have a partner of any kind but that might have been more to do with the fact he didn't have time for one than anything else. you at first brushed it off as just not having contact with anyone your age that late at night, just enjoying his company when nights got lonely. but you couldn't deny the way you would style your hair a bit differently or try a new perfume in the hopes of getting a compliment from mike; to your absolute pleasure, he almost always pointed it out. now to hear this sudden praise for your cooking took you out of your element.

"thanks, really, but i make it all the time. i can make thousands like it and they'll all be the same." you say with a light chuckle, crossing your arms against your chest as you look over at the cake stand sheepishly. "then maybe you should consider getting a day job making these instead." mike says between bites, giving you a playful smile. you can't help but scoff despite the smile on your face, looking over at mike again. "well, if it's that easy, maybe YOU should quit your job and come and join me. keep me company." the two of you have a quiet laugh, your cheeks reddening at the indirect compliment you had paid him. once his plate is empty, you take it away from him just to have an excuse to do something with your hands (also to get away from the almost fond look that mike was giving you right now, definitely not on par for him). there's a tense silence between the two of you before mike speaks up, clearing his throat when he speaks. "uh, i tried making that at home. the pie, i mean. i don't remember what kind it was right now, but it definitely didn't end as well as that." he says with a nervous laugh, hands folded in front of him again as you hear the coffee machine start to pour out his drink.

"well, what exactly did you do wrong?" with surprisingly no hesitance, mike goes on to tell the story of how sure he was about this recipe he'd seen in a catalogue, going above and beyond to make sure this "stupid thing" (his words) came out right. little did he know leaving his creation unattended for even a second would result in smoke pouring out of the oven and having to throw out a charred-black pastry; "and then abby went and acted like we could just go and do it all over again and.." mike starts, hands waving around uncharacteristically as he finished off his story. he caught the way you were trying to hold back a laugh, fingers pressed to your lips that were etched into a small smile. "it's ok, you can laugh all you want. i never tried doing it again." you can't help the laugh that leaves you once he gives you his full permission, still trying to keep your voice down. "i-i'm sorry, really.." you giggle once you've calmed down, rubbing your hands over your face before you start to walk around the counter to where mike is sitting. "but that's not how making a pie works. you can't just leave it like that or give up on the process that easily."

mike makes a face that says 'i'm listening', shrugging his shoulders when you sit on the stool next to him. "making a pie is like.." you start with a sigh, hands propping up your chin in thought as you look up at the clock. "you just know when some things feel right. if something is too much or too little, whether you need to start again or not. lord knows i've had to redo entire pies because the crust wasn't flaky enough or the filling didn't taste like apples enough." you say, chuckling a bit as you remember all the times you'd slaved away for almost entire days trying to nail down the perfect home recipe. you take a minute to think again, sitting back a bit as you smooth down your apron tied around your waist. "and it also doesn't help if you make something just to make something. when you bake or just cook a plain old steak, you have to make it like you're crafting a story or making a song. all of my best meals were made with someone or something in mind."

your cheeks go red again when you realize the very unprompted ramble you went on, a nervous laugh leaving you as you look down at your lap. "sorry, you totally don't have to-" "no, no, i-" the two of you jump a bit at the way you both try to speak first, sheepish smiles tugging at your lips before you go quiet again. the bell above the door jingles and you don't have to look up to know the two of you are alone now. "i like hearing about that sort of stuff. i really only hear about it when i'm here with you and it's..nice. different." your heart soars and you can only hope that mike can't somehow feel or hear it, trying to give him a warm smile without saying something you'll regret. you get up from your seat with a when he checks his watch, knowing that's code for 'i need to go' even before he stands. you're almost sure he'll leave without saying anything which you are simultaneously grateful for and hoped he wouldn't do, already busying yourself with some other menial task. "hey."

you look up almost as soon as he speaks, seeing the smile tugging at his lips and not able to contain your own. "save those leftovers for me. i hope it still tastes like you were trying to make it for me when i get back." he says, a smug look in his eyes as your lips part a bit in shock. you try to call out to him before he jogs out to his car, taking off accordingly.

-> ta da its done! :D <-

this was honestly less romantic than i wanted it to be but i promise that my brain is racked with thoughts of him literally EVERY DAY so mayhaps i can write something else that's more up to par one of these days

but thank yall for reading! :D i haven't been able to pump out a oneshot like this for a while and it felt good to write something longer than a couple of paragraphs, i have missed this account sm 🐺💗 love yall and i hope that you all are having a fantastic day!

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #fnaf #oneshot #x reader #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson #michael schmidt x reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you

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