#pantyhose covered legs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vanteguccir · 2 months

Text

Texas is so cold | Chris Sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N and the triplets decide to go out for dinner at a pizzeria, but Y/N is cold and Chris becomes her personal heater.

Requested?: Yes, from anon.

Warning: None.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

PS.: wrote this with a big smile on my face since my city is cold again, I was tired of living under 40°C 😁

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Forget about it!" Chris's voice sounded in a ridiculous Italian accent, catching Y/N's attention, who was a little away from the triplets as she looked at the pizzeria's sign.

The girl turned around, seeing Nick holding the camera with both hands, the lens focusing on Matt and Chris, her own silhouette probably appearing in the background.

Y/N smiled at the brothers' banter as she rubbed her hands together, trying to extract some heat from the friction as she mentally cursed herself for her chosen outfit option.

When the boys came up with the idea of trying a different Texas-style pizzeria that had good reviews online, she felt super excited. Her biggest hobby was discovering new restaurants, so much so that in LA, she took the boys with her at least once a week to have dinner out.

But she completely forgot that she wasn't in LA and that the cold in Texas was intense, reaching 2°C. And that was precisely why she was so angry with herself, having chosen a short dress with a long sleeve that did nothing to warm her arms and left her collarbone exposed, a pair of pantyhose too thin to even be felt against her skin and a pair of high-heeled, short-cut boots that didn't even reach past her heels.

Y/N pressed her legs together as she crossed her arms tightly around her own waist, white smoke leaving her lips with each deep breath. She just hoped the pizzeria had a good heater.

"Yeah, so we're eating pizza..." Nick turned the camera so that the lens framed him too, starting to explain what they were going to do.

Chris turned towards the entrance of the restaurant as he looked for his girlfriend, missing her presence by his side. His eyes found her quickly, a smile stretching across his face, but that was soon replaced by furrowed eyebrows upon seeing her condition.

He walked away from his brothers and took quick steps towards Y/N, placing his hands on her shoulders, feeling the tension in the area, probably due to the cold.

"Shit, you're freezing, baby. I told you to change your clothes." Chris murmured, his voice sounding panickly as he ran his hands up and down the girl's arms, trying to warm her up with the friction between his hands and the thin fabric of her dress sleeve.

Even though his words were scolding, his voice sounded like a wave of heat through Y/N's body. She just shook her head, a whine escaping her throat.

"I forgot it was 2°C." She responded in a weak voice, her teeth chattering as she tried to run her hot tongue over her lips, wanting to warm them up, but to no avail.

"Look, we have a penguin with us today." Nick's voice sounded close to the couple in a playful tone, his hand still holding the camera on as a laugh escaped his lips, the lens catching the two of them and Matt, who was looking at them with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed, probably worried about Y/N's situation.

"Texas is so cold." The girl complained, getting closer to Chris looking for more human warmth.

The boy hugged her tightly, the momentary heat penetrating Y/N's sore muscles, a sigh of relief escaping her lips.

"Thanks." Her voice was muffled, her face pressed completely against Chris' covered chest.

His arms wrapped around her shoulders so perfectly that their bodies looked like a two-piece puzzle. The human heat that surrounded Chris's body embraced Y/N's one, creating a bubble around the two. A sound of appreciation escaped Chris' lips at the closeness, his hands caressing his girlfriend's cold back.

The boy bent down slightly, bringing his face closer to Y/N's, sealing his lips momentarily on her forehead before running his nose lightly over the sensitive skin, a shiver running through the girl's spine due to the coldness of the tip of his nose.

A few seconds later, Chris realized that his girlfriend was still shivering, slightly moving her away from his body, receiving a sound of complaint in response.

Chris just raised his right hand, silently asking her to wait. He brought his hands to the hem of his black hoodie, pulling it up and removing the piece from his body, the beanie falling from his head with the movement.

Matt bent down, retrieving the beanie as a smile stretched across his face.

"Chris is a true gentleman, guys." Nick started from behind the camera, a smile in his voice. "Don't accept anything less than that." He continued, adjusting the camera's zoom so that it focused on Chris, who was holding the hoodie in his hands. His body now only covered by his baggy jeans and two layers of black turtleneck sweater.

The youngest of the triplets completely ignored him, approaching Y/N, who was watching his movements with wide eyes.

"Babe, no! You'll be cold." She exclaimed, raising her hands trying to stop him.

"My priority is your comfort, gorgeous." Chris returned it, arranging the hoodie in his hands so that he could slip the piece over his girlfriend's head, being careful with her makeup, knowing that if he messed it up, she would be mad.

The boy helped her pass her arms through the respective holes, pulling the hem down and pressing the fabric against her body, trying to warm her up more quickly.

"I loved the style, very aesthetic." Matt commented from the couple's side, letting out a laugh. Chris smiled as he rolled his eyes, wrapping his right arm around Y/N's shoulder, pulling her close, her arms wrapping around his waist.

"Can we eat now? Please?" Nick asked, his voice sounding desperate. He was eager to try the meatballs he'd seen so much of in the reviews.

"This is literally the only time you'll ever see me with chapped lips, I'm in the fucking Tundra right now." Matt spoke quickly as he looked at the camera, his icy hand passing over his lips.

Y/N opened her black purse - which only had a lip gloss and a watermelon Space Camp lip balm - and took out the lip balm, handing it to Matt, who jokingly celebrated before thanking her, opening the package and passing it across his lips.

"Free advertising." Chris's sentence was the last thing the camera captured, besides the others' laughter and the little "go buy Space Camp" comment made by Y/N, before Nick turned it off and they finally entered the pizzeria.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Extra - comments:

"Chris taking off his hoodie and giving it to Y/N because she was cold 😭"

"it's exactly because of Y/N and Chris that my standards are so high"

"yes Nick, we all know that Chris is a true gentleman 😔"

"can we take a few seconds to admire Y/N's beauty in that outfit? WHAT A WOMAN"

"Matt picking up Chris's beanie off the floor 😭"

"Chris hugging Y/N all worried and shit because she was shivering from the cold 🥺"

"Y/N lending her Space Camp to Matt after he complained about his chapped lips: the biggest advertisement you can have"

"Nick hire Y/N to advertise your brand right now!!!"

"MY PARENTS 😭🧎‍♀️"

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. Feel free to send me requests or anything at all 🩷💋

1K notes · View notes

addisonnie · 1 year

Text

Baptize in Your Thighs

summary: Ellie doesn’t go to church. But when she does, it’s for the preacher’s daughter.

warnings: swearing, SMUT, fingering, oral, daddy kink (SORRY,) lowkey mean!ellie, dom/sub, religious mentions, talks of god, slight mentions of homophobia but hardly, let me know if I missed anything ALSO not proofread per usual sorry can’t be bothered!

an: surprise you dirty little dogs. im also a dirty little dog because what the FUCK is this. what did i just do? anyways time to do my homework now! enjoy you filthy little sluts

—————

Ellie doesn’t particularly believe in God. She doesn’t read the Bible, she doesn’t pray, and she certainly doesn’t go to church.

Yet, here she is.

The stained glass windows cast a rainbow haze over her skin, the freckles dotting her face twinkle under the glow. People slowly begin to fill in the pews surrounding her and she plays with the mini Bible placed in the wooden pocket of the seat in front of her. She looks out of place, feels out of place. People like her are usually struck by lightning the second they walk through those goddamn wooden doors— probably not the best time to use the Lord’s name in vain.

She’s gay, she’s grumpy, she’s occasionally mean. So, why is she here?

You. The preacher’s sweeter-than-a-peach daughter. Your smile is contagious, your laugh is precious, and Jesus Christ—again, not the best time— you have got to be one of the most alluring girls Ellie has ever seen. A floral dress hugs your waist beautifully and stops right above the middle of your supple thighs, tan pantyhose run up your legs and Ellie coughs into her hand when she accidentally makes eye contact with you.

You smile, of course you do. It’s nothing more than a formality your family forced upon you to keep raking in more church-goers—because who wants to attend a church run by an asshole family. Ellie smiles back before looking at her hands splayed across her thighs. She notices the click-clack of your kitten heels as you approach her pew, refusing to look up, she plays with the rip in her jeans.

“Is someone sitting here? With you.” Your saccharine voice floats through Ellie’s ears and wraps around her eardrum like a vice.

“No, go ahead.” She nods toward the open space next to her and you smile before sitting down and sliding closer to her. Your small hands smooth over your dress before you turn to face her, “I haven’t seen you here before. Are you a new member?”

Ellie has to hold back an eye roll—‘member?’ What is this? A cult?

“Just decided to finally come today. I usually don’t like getting up early on my days off.” You laugh and smile brightly at her, “I’m the same way. My daddy has to practically kick my door down to get me awake Sunday mornings.”

You’ve got a sweet little southern accent and Ellie feels herself growing aroused at the innocent aura weaved in every word you speak. She wonders if you’ve ever been aroused like this before.

Ellie notices you’re about to speak again before your father walks up onto the stage and begins his sermon. Immediately, your attention is brought to him and she sighs at the loss. The pastor is droning on about sinners and that those who are lost in the darkness should look for the light, Christ.

She doesn’t care. Ellie is much more focused on the fact that your dress has ridden much farther up your thighs due to the fact that you’ve crossed your legs. Her eyes trail up and down your pantyhose-covered legs and she shivers, drawing your attention back to her.

“Are you alright?”

Ellie’s eyes dart to your face, “just feeling overwhelmed, is all.”

You nod before pursing your lips and squinting, Ellie panics for a moment, thinking you’ve seen straight through her.

“Come with me.” You stand up in the pew and reach your hand out for Ellie to grab, quickly dragging her through the row and to the front doors of the church.

Your mother stands there, hands on her hips.

“Now, just where do you think you’re going? Your father is not going to be pleased that you’re skipping his sermon.” A whine escapes your lips and you tug on Ellie’s hand.

“Mama, this is Ellie. She’s feeling a little overwhelmed. I think the Holy Ghost is reaching out to her! I’m gonna take her to the house and let her have one of our spare bibles. You’re the one always saying we should help those that are lost!”

Your mother curtly nods at you before turning to face Ellie, “well, Miss. Ellie. You’re in good hands! I hope my daughter helps you work through your feelings. It’ll only lead to a healthier relationship with Christ.”

Ellie smiles and thanks her, in her head she’s rolling her eyes and telling your mom to fuck off. If anything, you’re the one in good hands. Ellie wants nothing more than to coax another whine from your plump, glossy lips.

Your hand is grasped in Ellie’s while you drag her across the dirt-filled church parking lot and into an old Victorian style home about a yard away from the side of the church. A couple cats sunbathe on the front porch and you happily greet them as you drag Ellie up the stairs and into your house.

It smells really nice. It’s creepy as fuck, though. The only thing she can really focus on are the abundance of crosses littering the walls. Who needs that many crosses? Do you beat intruders with them? Do they keep the demons away? Ellie shudders when she realizes that she’s probably the very thing they want casted out of her house.

“We can head up to my room, I’ve got a couple bibles there. You can have one, if you’d like!” There’s that sweet little voice again.

You pull her up the stairs and quickly lead her to your room. It’s exactly what Ellie expected. Pink toile wallpaper, a precious white bed frame, and a fluffy white comforter topped with way too many decorative pillows. A Bible lay open atop your bed, colorful markings and annotations scatter across the pages.

“Sorry! S’a bit of a mess, I don’t usually have people in my room. Mama and daddy don’t like it.”

Your mom and dad won’t like what Ellie is thinking about doing, either.

The two of you sit criss-cross on the bed and your nimble fingers quickly reach out to grasp at your Bible, “so, today my daddy’s sermon was meant to be about temptation. We can start there.”

How ironic. Temptation.

“How do you keep from giving into it? Temptation, that is?” Ellie leans in to be closer to your body, you look at her with wide eyes.

“I just—I usually just pray.”

Ellie smirks, “yeah? Does that make it go away?”

You push a stray strand of hair behind your ear and frown slightly, confused.

“Make what go away?”

God, you look so innocent like this. Big doe eyes staring up into Ellie’s, your legs crossed out in front of you. It’s sinful.

“Those butterflies you get in your tummy. The ones that make you feel funny.” She’s trying to dance around the topic of general horniness rather than just straight up asking if you touch yourself. Speaking to you about this is difficult, you’re a butterfly on a stray flower, and if Ellie jumps in too quickly, she’ll startle you and run you off.

“I—I don’t know what you mean.” You’re wiggling under her intense stare and a soft blush begins to bloom over the apples of your cheeks.

“Sweetheart, I think you do. Tell me what you do when you get that feeling.” Ellie leans in much closer to you, her minty breath fans over your face and she doesn’t miss the part when you clench your soft thighs together.

“Hebrews 13:4.” Ellie scoffs and swats at your knee, “that’s not what I’m asking you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and huff out a breath, “Ellie. I’m trying to help you here. You wanna know what I do? I read the Bible and pray that God will rid me of those sinful feelings.”

And then Ellie is leaning closer, both her hands resting on your thighs, “are you going to pray right now? Ask God to get rid of that wet feeling in your panties? Ask him to smite me where I stand, hm?”

A bright red blush spans across your cheeks and you can’t bear to look at Ellie. She tuts, “look at me, angel.”

It’s ironic that she’s calling you angel when you feel like the complete opposite. The feeling of your cotton panties sliding against your sticky folds is enough to make you feel like the spawn of Satan himself. And to feel this way about a woman? You don’t even want to think about the repercussions of that.

“I touch myself. At night—after they’re asleep.” Ellie grins and squeezes your flesh between her fingers, “you’re a bad girl. What else do you do?”

A whine escapes your lips while you shove at Ellie’s calloused hands, “I can’t.”

Her face drops and she moves a hand up to squeeze your jaw in between her fingers, “you can. Tell me—better yet, why don’t you show me, angel?”

A gasp slides out of your mouth and your eyebrows shoot to your hairline, “I—what! No! Ellie, I can’t do that. I won’t.”

Her unoccupied hand slowly trails toward the hem of your dress, “I thought you were supposed to be a good girl? Sweet little pastor’s daughter can’t follow simple instructions?”

You whimper, “M’a good girl.”

“Then act like one.”

Her hand releases your jaw and she smirks when she watches you inch backward on your bed until you’re resting against the headboard. Your legs are crossed in front of you and Ellie gives you a moment to uncross them before she grabs your ankles to spread your legs.

“Go on, then.”

Your fingers slowly raise the hem of your dress until it pools around your tummy and Ellie sucks in a breath when she sees your flowery pink panties underneath your pantyhose. One hand travels underneath the elastic of your underwear and a soft whimper leaves your parted lips when the pad of your fingertip ghosts over your clit.

Ellie can’t see your pussy through your undergarments but she can clearly make out the little wet spot growing between your legs. She watches while your finger swirls in a circular motion under your panties and feels her own growing damper when you let out a soft moan.

“More, sweet girl. I know you can.” Ellie is leaning back on her hands while she watches your hand speed up, you choke out a pathetic whine while looking at her, “can’t, Ellie!”

A deep frown settles across Ellie’s face after your outward denial, “fucking pathetic. Do I have to do it for you? Hm? Is that what you want?”

Your hand slides out from under your panties and you shimmy down on the bed and spread your legs to be bent on either side of her body.

“Does your daddy know how much of a filthy little slut you are?” She’s crawling up the bed until she’s sitting on her knees in front of you, one arm on either side of your head. You whimper and jut your hips out toward her.

A simple phrase passes through her lips, one that has you sucking in a breath and squeezing your eyes shut, “beg.”

“Please.” It’s a pathetic attempt at begging, but you were raised to always be polite, at least you said please.

She leans forward on her hands and quickly moves one of her legs forward to shove straight into your core, grinding roughly onto your puffy clit.

You let out a soft moan and clutch onto her bicep, “I said fucking beg. I wanna hear you pray for me like the good little church girl you are.”

She surges forward and immediately presses her lips onto yours in a messy kiss. Her lips are soft yet chapped, a clear juxtaposition to the supple, cherry-flavored skin of your pouty lips. Ellie doesn’t even give you a chance to deny her tongue before she’s prying your mouth open with her lips, immediately sliding the wet muscle into your awaiting mouth. The harshness of her jeans continually ruts into your clit and she doesn’t plan on giving you any more until she hears that prayer fall from your lips. Fingers are digging into her biceps and she has half a mind to complain when you finally pull back, “please touch me. Please, please. I’ll be a good girl—fuck. Please.”

Hearing the naughty word slip from your sweet lips has Ellie chuckling, “atta girl.”

She immediately sits back on her knees before running her hands up and down your spread thighs, the wet spot on your panties only growing more prominent. Her fingers reach your core and you whimper for the thousandth time, she bunches the material of your pantyhose and rips the fabric apart at the seam, leaving an open hole directly to your underwear.

“Ellie!” She grunts and gives you a sour look before attaching her lips to yours again. Sloppy, wet sounds fill your ears while Ellie kisses you, spit is trailing down your chin and onto the valley of your breasts as Ellie fumbles with the soft material of your panties.

Sliding them to the side, she runs the pad of her pointer finger along your cunt, eliciting a gasp from you. Her finger dances over your folds and circles around your clit a few times before she trails back down to your hole, slowly pressing a finger inside.

“Oh—fuck! Ellie, please.”

She moves to kiss down the column of your throat while she slowly pulls her finger out, pushing it back in again.

“Better than your tiny fingers, hm, baby?” You nod and move a hand down to tug at her wrist, “more.”

Ellie moves her head away from your neck and scowls, “where have your manners gone?”

Tears are beginning to fill your doe eyes and for a minute Ellie feels bad for having such an attitude with you, but not bad enough to stop.

“Please. I want more of you.” That’s enough for her it seems, she slides her second finger in knuckle deep moans at the feeling of you digging your nails into her toned arms.

Her fingers quickly move in and out of your pussy, scissoring and twisting inside of you. You’re moaning, but quietly; Ellie doesn’t like that.

“Let me fucking hear you, sweet girl. Don’t be shy.” She speeds up the movement of her fingers and soon slides in a third finger, twisting her wrist around to hit you at a different angle. Her other arm moves to lift your leg onto her shoulder and the new angle has you releasing a borderline pornographic moan. It’s loud, and for a second you’re worried the church across the driveway heard it.

Her thumb repositions to quickly swipe over and circle at your clit. Your toes curl over Ellie’s shoulder and she listens to you squeak and cry out from under her. Teeth sink into your calf resting upon her shoulder and another loud moan slides from your parted lips when you feel Ellie harshly bite down on the skin and slide her tongue across the indention.

She feels you clenching religiously around her fingers and watches in awe as your wetness seeps into the palm of her hand and puddles on your pristine comforter.

“Close, baby?”

You whine in response and Ellie quickly halts her motions and slides her fingers out, “too bad.”

Your soft eyes full with tears and you slam your head backwards onto the pillow behind you, “fuck! Just—please, Ellie! Please please please—“

A harsh slap onto your pussy sends your hips jolting upward and your head flying forward. You whimper from the pain “m’sorry.”

“Rule number one. You only cum when I say you can. Got it, slut?” She delivers another harsh slap onto your clit and you arch your back in an attempt to be closer to her, “yes.”

She tuts, “yes, what?”

A confused look crosses your sweet face and you whine, shuffling your hips downward in hopes of some form of contact, “yes, Ellie?”

Another slap to your cunt, “ah—fuck! Yes! Yes, daddy!”

She smirks before lifting your other leg to rest on her shoulder, moving down on the bed until her face is settled in between your thighs.

“What are you doing?” You sound genuinely confused, which only confuses Ellie. Certainly you know what head is, right?

“M’gonna eat this pretty little pussy, baby. You want that?” She can practically hear you gulp. Your head nods and both of your hands slide to rest on top of her head.

Ellie leans in to pull your panties further to the side, pressing a chaste kiss right onto your clit, “oh my—“ you cut yourself off before you can say His name.

She smirks, “say it.”

And then she’s licking a long stripe up the expanse of your cunt, only stopping to suckle at your clit. Her tongue darts around in several circles before she finally fully takes your clit into her mouth and sucks harshly, “oh my God!”

She smirks into your pussy before moving her hand back up to slide knuckle-deep into your cunt again. Her long fingers piston in and out of your slick core while she hums and sucks on your clit. Fingers are digging into her scalp and yanking at her hair, your heels are digging into her back, and ear-shattering moans are diving out of your mouth.

Ellie does believe in God, because this, this is heaven.

She feels you constricting so hard around her fingers that it’s starting to get difficult to continually fuck in and out of you, her bicep is burning from the amount of effort she’s putting into getting you there.

“Daddy—fuck, please. M’so close. Please please please.” You’re babbling at this point, and Ellie is pretty sure you’ve literally never came before because she didn’t even edge you for that long and you’ve already got tears streaming down your round cheeks and onto your neck.

She moans onto your clit before slightly pulling away, “good girl, you can come.”

That’s all it takes, the vibration of Ellie’s words send shockwaves through your clit and immediately you’re seeing stars, clenching down onto Ellie’s fingers like a vice. She fucks you through it, she doesn’t stop, either.

Her mouth continues to suck on your clit long after you’ve come, and her fingers are still buried to the hilt inside of you.

“Oh! Please—please, can’t do more.”

Her teeth graze over your puffy clit, “yes you fucking can, roll over.”

She pulls away just long enough for you to roll over onto your tummy, “face down. Gonna have you on your knees praying for me to stop.”

Your face is mashed into the pillows and Ellie uses her knee to shove your legs further apart, her large hands immediately move to spread your pussy apart and she licks a long stripe from your clit to your tighter hole.

“Fucking shit! Fuck fuck fuck!” The filthy words pass through your lips like nothing, and Ellie almost laughs at the idea of the sweetest girl in the world having such a foul mouth. She moves back down to stuff her tongue into your pussy, sliding the wet muscle in and out, licking and sucking on your folds like a woman starved.

You’re babbling and sobbing into your pillowcase, begging for literally anything. Ellie keeps her mouth connected to your pussy, but moves both of her hands to grip the globes of your ass and quickly spreads them. One hand stays planted on your ass, the other trails upward until her thumb rests over your tight hole, pressing in slightly before circling around it. She uses her previous spit as lube before slowly sliding her thumb into your ass, leaving it there while she licks on your cunt.

A sob erupts from your lips and immediately you’re rocking back and forth on her face, “good fucking girl. Use me, baby.”

Her thumb slides farther into your ass and before you know it, she’s sliding her other hand to meet it. She presses in her second thumb and you squeal, clenching around her fingers.

With one last lick to your clit, your orgasm hits like a truck. Your juices leak down Ellie’s chin and spurt out onto her cheeks, effectively covering her face with you. It’s deliciously sweet and Ellie happily laps up everything that drips from your pussy lips, slurping and gurgling like a feral animal.

She pulls away from your cunt and turns her face to the side, rubbing your juices onto her clothed shoulder. Her thumbs stay planted in your ass and she lightly pulls her thumbs apart, spreading you open.

“Fuck—fuck. No more. No!”

Ellie chuckles and decides to remove her fingers. She watches your knees buckle and you drop fully onto your bed, shaking and whimpering, “oh my God. Oh my God.”

You keep repeating it. Over and over.

“It’s actually Ellie. But, I told you I’d have you praying for me instead.”

You grunt into the pillow case and Ellie laughs, moving to rub her hand soothingly up and down the expanse of your back. She presses a kiss between your shoulder blades and helps you slide your shredded pantyhose down your legs along with your underwear.

Your dress is still bunched up around your chest and Ellie rugs the fabric down to cover your ass after pressing a kiss to the plump skin.

Just as she slides your dress fully back down, a knock sounds at your bedroom door, “honey? It’s dad. The sermon is over and I’m heading back to the church for the potluck. Are you coming?”

Ellie squeezes the flesh of your thighs in warning, “no, daddy. I’m staying here, don’t feel—ah, don’t feel good.”

Her fingers drift over your puffy lips while she listens to you answer your father outside the door, “okay, honey.”

His footsteps clank down the stairs and Ellie waits to hear the front door slam before she whispers in your ear, “I don’t think I’m done with my sermon yet.”

#filth #sorry I had to do it to em #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #tlou #ellie tlou #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams smut

3K notes · View notes

mysicklove · 6 months

Text

cw: sub! gojo, gn! reader, heavy feminization, lingerie, gojo wears panties, mentions of gojo having a pussy? highkey cringe writing :(

wc: 0.9k

lingerie inspo

The color matches his eyes. It's a pretty shade of blue that compliments his hair and his porcelain skin well. He was in a maid outfit, or at least the beginnings of one — it showed too much skin to be really considered an outfit.

The bottoms are a short skirt with a white and blue pattern and some white ruffles. The light blue top fits to cover just his chest, disappointingly hiding his nipples from you. And, of course, you put him in the loveliest, white lacy pantyhose and pretty white choker to match.

Gojo, bluntly, looks adorable and a different type of provocative than what you are used to.

Gojo, on the other hand, was pouting at you from across the room. His body is halfway covered by the wall, and he seems to be trying to hide away from you. The man pulls at the bottoms nervously and shakes his head at your grin. "This has got to be the most humiliating thing I have ever done," He complains, a dramatic whine in his voice.

"Hmmm, you think so? I don't know…Satoru, you have done some…Pathetic things. Don't you think, sweet thing?" You put up two fingers, beckoning him over to you. He frowns at you, ignoring the burning of the tips of his ears. "Come here, pretty. There is no need to hide," You coax when he pauses momentarily.

Gojo nods, trying his best to ignore the ridiculous pet name. He then strides over to you, and your eyes travel to the cutesy stalking that climbs up his leg and ends on his upper thigh.

You stand up to meet him halfway there, padding over to him with a teasing grin on your face. His hands go awardly to his sides, and he peers at you through his lashes. "My, my, I don't think I have ever seen the notorious Satoru Gojo embarrassed?"

"Im not—Just…Shut up, would you?" He half-heartedly mumbles, "Never been in girl's clothing before. You're the weird one here for buying this, ya hear me? N-Not me!"

"Such a shame, too." You muse, ignoring the second part of his sentence. "Think you may look better in it than in boy's clothing." He bites back a whine, another pout on his face. But you ignore him as you run your fingers over the fabric and walk around his lengthy body, twirling over every lace and ribbon. He doesn't move while you do the inspection; instead, he just looks at the floor awkwardly.

You press kisses along any surface you can, and Gojo sighs with every trace of your lips. You make your way to behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and traveling your hands along his chest and stomach. Your lips linger on his lower shoulder blades as you crane your head around to see the front of him. "The real question is," You mumble and pause, coaxing him.

"Hmm?" He prompts, eyes widening when he feels your fingers drag along the bottom of his skirt. He knows what is going to come, and he fumes a shade of red before bringing his hands up to cover his face.

You chuckle at him. "Tell me, did my pretty girl wear everything she was given?"

He shouldn't have put them on. He knew you were going to tease him about it, but still, he did it. To be good and listen to you in the moment sounded nice, but now, he could feel like he could die from humiliation.

"No," he tries to deny, but his voice is breathless, and he swears that you can hear how hard his heart is pounding. You nibble at the open flesh on his back, and he jumps.

"Aw, do I have a little liar?" You coo, and Satoru has the nerve to flip you off. You can't help but laugh at that. "And a brat too, huh?

He shakes his head and lowers his finger defeatedly. He wasn't smiling like you were; in fact, his mouth was dry, and he tries not to fidget. "Can you just do it already?"

"Excited, aren't we?" You prompt, but before he can rebuttal, you flip up the skirt to see the light blue sheer panties you picked out days prior.

"There she is," You tease, and his cock seems to twitch to life at the attention. "I knew you would wear them."

"Yeah, yeah…..Whatever, they just looked comfortable, that's all," He complains, biting his lip and not daring to look at the panties. It embarrassed him too much. You don't feel the need to deny his statements because it was an obvious fact that he was lying through his teeth.

Another glob of precum stains the silk, and you sigh dreamily. "Oh, Satoru, you are so wet; look, it's almost like you are meant to have a pussy!"

He lets out a breathless laugh and then cranes his head to look at you. Gojo, for the first time tonight, is grinning, and you are immediately intrigued. He then leans into your chest and whispers, "Dont need a pussy for you to fuck me."

A shiver runs down your spine, and your mouth goes dry. He always did these sorts of things. Made you question your authority for a moment with his cocky and smooth demeanor. But you didn't mind because it only made things more fun.

You are quick to recover like usual, and a feline-like smile spreads over your features. "That's my girl."

Gojo's eyes seem to light up.

#mello.writes #gojo x reader #dom reader #gojo smut #satoru smut #satoru gojo x reader #sub jjk #sub gojo #sub satoru

465 notes · View notes

pantyhose-fan · 6 months

Text

@balletflats32

#pantyhose feet #hose covered toes #mini skirt with pantyhose #pantyhose legs

21 notes · View notes

granddaughterogg · 28 days

Text

Ghost and you having a lil' one night stand in the club

You weaved your wanting fingers into the longer part of his fade, sliding the mask further up.

He stilled your wrists.

"Hey. Hey", he whispered cautiously into the bridge of your nose. "Don't even think about it."

"So...the mask stays on?... Like, all the way?" You inquired breathlessly between nipping at his mouth.

"Yes."

You looked this peculiar man in the eyes, now gleaming with fun, but dark and puzzling nonetheless. What was he hiding? Scars? Being a plain ol' butterface? Facial deformity of some kind?

You examined this thought thoroughly and found out that you don't care.

"All right", you said. "But tell me one thing. Are you Deadpool?"

He snorted softly. "I'm just Ghost."

"Ghost?.."

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me."

And kiss you he did.

Holy fuck, he was so good at this. Even when he let himself loose, abandoning all fuckboy moves in favour of feral lust.

And maybe especially then.

Your tongues entwined in a blind dance, devoid of any rhythm. It was as un-romantic as humanly possible and you liked it that way. That frenzied, rushed approach of his told you that the man was truly starving, losing himself already in this newly acquired flavour, in your feminine warmth. His desperation set your blood ablaze.

Because you were hungry too.

Ghost finally broke contact, but before leaning away he glided his tongue over your half-opened mouth. It was as if he just couldn't part with the taste.

"Hold on...fuck, you're something else." He sighed and put both of your hands around his wide neck.

"Hold tight, love", he cautioned as if you two were boarding a ride.

When you did as told, he grabbed at your ass.

You yelped when his hands pressed into the soft flesh under the thin velvet of your dress. He effortlessly pulled you off the ground and lifted you up.

"Wrap your legs around me", he asked.

You were not a dainty lady. When other guys attempted such stunts, you usually started to fear for their backs. But not for Ghost. This guy was born for heavy-duty activities. You recently watched him sweep the floor with a grown man.

He could take you.

You suspected that he'd carry you out of a battlefield as well.

You wrapped your thighs around his thick waist, crossing your booted legs over the small of his back. You felt his firm core underneath you, covered with a healthy layer of soft flesh. That width of his didn't come just from muscles, and the discovery excited you. You liked your men strong, but not starving.

"That's right..." Ghost slid his large hands under your thighs, tearing another yelp out of you, followed by a stifled moan as he pressed your ass against the nearest wall.

"What are you doing?" you breathed, holding on for dear life.

"Keepin' a promise." That low gritty voice reverberated in your bones.

Right, he had said this earlier. I could pin you to a wall if you ask nicely.

The next moment all thoughts - the very ability to think - drifted away from you, for he glided his tongue across that space behind your ear. You moaned, your head falling back as if electricity had just pierced you. He chuckled into your collarbone and was already going lower, kissing, licking and sucking the sensitive skin of your throat. His tongue felt like a flame.

"Jesus Christ...", you breathed. "You're gonna fuck me like this?"

"If that's what you want".

"I dunno. It's kinda – aah! - uncomfortable..."

You tried really hard to rein your thoughts, but they fell apart while this impossible man held you against a wall.

It felt like being sandwiched between cold wood and a living furnace.

As if trying to make the thought process even harder, Ghost dug his fingers deeper into your buttcheeks, bunching up the fabric. It slid up your thighs, eliciting a high-pitched squeal from you.

"This fuckin' skirt is in the way", he murmured. After some more finagling, he got away with the velvet and stroked at the sheer pantyhose underneath. His long fingers nudged the lacy elastic keeping your stay-ups in place.

"Stockings?" He asked, as if unable to believe his luck.

"Yep", you grinned at him.

" Fuckin' hell."

That came out low and guttural. You felt a sharp tingle within as if someone tugged at a string attached to your core.

That narrow strip of lace awakened something in him. He stepped away from the wall and threw you onto the nearest futon. You landed on your back with legs splayed out, but you didn't have time to collect yourself because he was already on top of you, pressing you to the ground with that huge torso, obscuring the dim light, filling up your whole world. He put his arms over your head and pressed them against the soft surface.

Then he leaned over you and dragged his mouth across your cleavage, biting on the skin on your throat, eliciting another moan, and then he let go. You moaned again, protesting this abandonment.

"I know, love", he murmured into your mouth. "But we need to get rid of your knickers."

This is an excerpt from my ongoing Ghost x reader fic which you shall find HERE :3

187 notes · View notes

spirallingintothevoid71 · 1 month

Text

She doesn't take her pantyhose off much anymore.

I worship at the altar that is her feet. The scent, the feel, the taste.

When I'm extremely lucky, she'll have me lay over her, or slip her pantyhose covered thigh between my legs.

Until I'm unable to form coherent thoughts. Until I'm...

Spiraling into the Void

244 notes · View notes

gigicreates562 · 9 months

Text

The Bet- Fred Weasley x Reader

Y/n bets Fred that she can get him to admit his jealousy before the end of the week. It does not go how either of them planned.

TW: none

Word Count: 2,900

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

“You’re an idiot” George stated plainly.

“Hang on- what have I done already? It’s only 9 in the morning” Fred retorted.

“The bet”

“Godric, she works quickly. How does everyone know already?”

“Because you’ve gone absolutely mental thinking you can win!” Lee piped in as he sat down at the table, “Everyone’s talking about how badly you’re going to lose”

Fred’s mind drifted back to last night.

…

“What did he kill your grandma or something? Why are you looking at him like that?” Y/n teased.

“Like what?” Fred replied, with his eyes still locked on Draco.

“Hang on are you jealous?”

“No,” He argued, still eyeing the Slytherin boy, “How did he get ahold of your gloves in the first place?”

“I left them there after our one-night stand last week.”

“What?” Fred’s focus whipped to her.

“You are jealous!”

“I’m not! Just …concerned for your well-being. Did you actually?”

“Of course not you twat. I left them at quidditch practice and he picked them up for me,” She answered, watching as Fred went back to eyeing Draco, “Why won’t you admit you’re jealous?”

“Because I’m not”

“Right… Interesting”

“What is?” Fred finally relaxed as Draco went out of the room.

“That you are jealous, but you just won’t admit it,” Y/N replied as she shoved his shoulder playfully.

“I won't admit it because I’m not jealous,” Fred said pushing her shoulder right back, “Why do you care? I think you want me to be jealous,”

“Wanna bet?”

“On what?”

Fred was slightly anxious. Deep down he knew he was a little jealous. Protective even. But he knew if he admitted it, it would mean admitting his feelings for her, which he was NOT ready to do just yet.

“I bet that I can make you admit you’re jealous by the end of this week,” Y/n challenged.

“You’re on.”

“Good,” Y/n stuck out her hand for him to shake.

“Hang on,” Fred took a confident step closer, instantly making y/n hyper-aware of their proximity, “What do I get if I win?” Fred brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, clearly testing her.

“If you win,” Y/n whispered while taking another step impossibly closer, “I’ll do your potions homework for a week.”

She could feel his chest against hers now but she was not backing down now.

“But if I win,” she continued, “You have to ask me to the Yule Ball- In front of everyone.”

“Deal,” Fred scoffed and shook her hand.

…

“Drag it out as long as you can mate, I’ve started a betting pool” George held up a pouch full of sickles, ever so annoyingly.

“WHY is everyone so convinced I’ll lose?” Fred hissed.

“Because you’re head over heels for her! And because of that,” Lee pointed behind him. All the boys directed their attention to the front of the Great Hall.

“Bloody Hell” George laughed out.

There she was. Standing at the front of the great hall in all her glory was y/n. But instead of her usual sweater and jeans, she sported a tight black turtle neck with a leather skirt resting just below her mid-thigh cleverly directing everyone’s eyes down her toned legs covered by sheer black pantyhose wrapped up neatly by a pair of stunning black heels. She looked absolutely drop-dead gorgeous and much to Fred’s dismay everyone recognized it.

She was currently surrounded by a gaggle of third years, shamelessly trying to catch the older girl’s attention. But there was one specific person who made Fred’s blood boil. To Y/n’s right- stood Cormac, ever the overconfident flirt, making Y/n laugh. Fred couldn’t believe it. He almost, almost, stood up, but at the last second Y/N caught his eyes, so Fred sat back down and directed his attention back to his food.

“Oi! Fred!” Dean Thomas called, approaching Fred, “Are you and Y/N still seeing each other?”

“We were never seeing each other Dean,” Fred hissed through clenched teeth.

“Oh. So you wouldn’t mind if I asked her out?” Lee asked bluntly. George had the nerve to laugh at the 4th year’s audacity, earning a glare from his twin across the table.

“Go right ahead,” Fred approved.

“Wicked.” Dean hurried away towards y/n fixing his robes as he went.

“Have I mentioned you’re entirely, utterly, and completely stupid?” George reminded once more.

“Shut up.”

…

That afternoon Fred sat at the desk in y/n’s room patiently awaiting her arrival. She was supposed to meet him 10 minutes ago, but still no sign of her.

Five more minutes passed and Y/N finally rolled in. Amongst her hair sat a small red flower tucked behind her ear delicately.

“What is that?” Fred pointed to the improvised hairpiece.

“A flower. Dean gave it to me. Red for love or Gryffindor or some rubbish. I don’t know.”

“So now you’re flirting with Dean Thomas? He’s two years below us!”

“Not flirting Fred, simply accepting a gift. Why? Are you jealous?” She challenged crossing to lean on the desk near him.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Right,” She relented rolling her eyes, “Well then, ready to study?”

“If we must”

…

Some days came and went and pretty soon it was Wednesday.

How on Earth is it only Wednesday? Fred thought. He was miserable.

For the past three days, he watched boys trip over themselves just to get near Y/N. He didn’t think she’d carried her own books to class the entire week, not to mention the sweets on her desk had now grown to be a small mountain. It seemed everyone in Hogwarts was determined to make him forfeit. But Fred, just as stubborn as y/n, would not give in that easily.

Today was the Slytherin vs Hufflepuff game. Fred and George routinely made their way up to the stands to support their best friend and third favorite beater: Y/n.

“Bloody hell I’ve never seen the Slytherin stand so packed,” Fred commented as he pushed through the crowd.

“Not to put salt on your wound mate, but I think you know why they’re here” George replied making his own way to the front.

“Unfortunately I’m painfully aware.”

“You have to admit. She does look pretty bloody hot when she’s playing” George poked,

Receiving a sharp smack on his chest from his twin.

“Hey hey! I am not the enemy… Simply pointing out the obvious,” He added.

Smack

“Alright!!”

~~~

“That was mad!” Lee exclaimed.

“I’ve never seen Hufflepuff eat shit that badly” George added.

“Come on. Let’s go find her” Fred said. He may have been in a bad mood, but even he couldn’t deny that it was an amazing game for Slytherin. The boys journeyed down the stairs to wait for the team outside the showers. As they got closer Fred rolled his eyes at the sight before him.

“Sorry gents!” Fred loudly announced to the small village waiting outside the showers for Y/n, “Y/N has already left! Snuck out through the back. Looks like you’ll have to obnoxiously fight for her affections some other time,” he ended, clapping a few of them on their backs.

Fred’s call seemed to clear out most of the crowd including a very disappointed Dean Thomas.

“Right then, that’s better,” Fred sighed.

“You’re encouragable” George muttered.

“Are those my favorite twins I hear?” Y/N exclaimed as she exited the locker room. Her hair was damp and beginning to curl up from the shower and lack of a proper comb.

“That was bloody brilliant,” George congratulated as he hugged her tightly.

“That was a pretty gruesome game,” Fred said, abandoning his usual cocky persona for a more timid one.

“And here I thought you wouldn’t come,” Y/N cood as she crossed over to Fred.

“I’m not jealous.”

“Didn’t say you were”

George cut in, “Right, as entertaining as you two are, I’ve got a date with my pillow. Great game Y/n.” George clapped her on the back and made a quick exit.

“He’s right you know” Fred turned toward the girl.

“About what?”

“You were pretty ‘bloody brilliant’,” he mocked his twin’s tone.

“Thanks, It helped to have my good luck charm in the stands as usual,” she beamed at him.

“Yeah… Well, I’m off then,” Fred said beginning to leave.

“Fred!” She halted the boy, “Um- Well I just… Thanks for coming.”

“Yeah of course.”

~~~

The party was a rager. Gryffindor had just won the Friday match and it seemed like all of Hogwarts was celebrating. The common room was packed with people from all different houses dancing, chatting, and of course drinking.

There was only one rule to get in: you’ve got to wear red and gold.

Fred, however, made sure to deliberately leave that detail a mystery to Y/N. As usual, he had a plan. He figured that this being the last night of their little bet, she would be plotting a scheme of her own, so he would have to beat her before she beat him. His plan was simple: she would show up at the door, not wearing the required colors, and he would graciously offer him his jersey. With no other option, she would be forced to wear a shirt with a big fat “WEASLEY” on the back, easily warding off potential suitors. Now all he had to do was wait for her to show up.

And show up she did. His plan was right on track. She approached the portrait hole confidently; strutting up in an emerald green Slytherin sweater. Perfect.

“Ope, sorry love, gonna have to stop you there.” Fred said blocking her path, “Red or gold required to get in.”

“What?”

“Yup. No entry for green. Sorry darling,” Fred smiled at her oh so sweetly. Y/N tried to ignore the little flutter of her heart when he used that pet name for her.

“But you are in luck!” He continued, “I just so happen to have this!” Fred proudly pulled out and presented his jersey to her, thinking he had won.

“Mhm. Let me get this straight,” Y/n exaggerated, “You ‘just so happen’ to have forgotten to tell me the dress code, and you ‘just so happen’ to have a shirt for me, but it ‘just so happens’ that it has the word ‘WEASLEY’ plastered all over the back?” She saw right through him.

“Yup,” Fred popped the p of the word as he held out the shirt to her.

But Fred had made one fatal mistake, he had forgotten the very reason he fancied this particular woman oh so much: her boldness.

“Right,” She began to speak loudly, as to attract the attention of everyone in the room, “SO I CAN'T COME IN WITH THIS SHIRT, BUT IF I CHANGE TO RED OR GOLD I CAN ENTER?”

“Yes?” Fred hesitated. What was she up to?

“WELL FINE!” She exclaimed, and Fred watched in shock and might he say admiration as the next few actions unfolded in front of him.

Y/n reached down and proudly pulled off her shirt over her head, revealing a bright red bra underneath.

Fred gaped at her. He definitely had not seen this coming, but by god was that attractive. He didn’t know if it was her confidence or just the proximity to her shirtless chest, but Fred Weasley was truly at a loss for words.

“Let the woman in!” Someone shouted from the crowd, and Fred stepped aside to watch as she walked past smirking. How did his plan manage to go that badly?

“It’s alright mate you made a valiant effort,” George appeared patting his shoulder, “But if you do lose I’ve got five galleons on it. I suppose I could share some of the profit.”

“I need a drink,” Fred uttered.

“That’s the spirit.”

~~~

The party raged on, and it was getting dangerously close to midnight. Y/n knew she had to finish this and fast. Luckily, she had the advantage. Fred had been hitting the fire whisky pretty hard, and best of all Cormac had entered the ring once more.

“Hey,” Y/n said approaching Cormac, “You played pretty well, I couldn’t help but watch.”

Actually, she could. She hadn’t even noticed him. In fact, she was pretty sure she was transfixed with a certain Gryffindor beater for most of the game, but she put that aside for now. She was winning this bet.

“Hello beautiful,” He smiled. She internally cringed at his words but persisted.

“Can I sit?”

“Of course” Cormac shoved over to make room for her. Y/n glanced at the clock, getting slightly nervous. 11:30. 30 more minutes- time to be bold. She stole a glance in Fred’s direction, who unfortunately seemed distracted talking to Lee, and with a deep inhalation, sat directly on Cormac’s lap.

“Well hello,” he praised as he placed a hand on her thigh. She fought the urge to move it away and pushed onward once more.

“Hello,” she flirted, glancing back at Fred again. Still not watching. Fuck. Why won’t he look at her? Why won’t Cormac STOP looking at her? Abruptly Y/n became startlingly aware of her shirtlessness.

“You look quite fit tonight. Really a killer outfit,” he joked.

She laughed, LOUDLY, Too loudly to seem natural but it seemed to have caught George’s eye. She hoped he would deliver the news to Fred. The clock was ticking.

Carefully, she placed a hand on Cormac’s chest.

“So do you, but maybe that’s just the fire whiskey talking,” Y/n flirted.

Now it was Cormac’s turn to laugh. Smoothly, he moved his hand from her thigh to her waist, pulling her closer to him. Her chest felt so exposed up against his Jersey, but she had to keep pressing forward. The conversation was going slow, too slow. 11:45. Where was Fred?

“Tell me Y/n- was this bra for me? Or was this just a happy accident,” her brain was screaming at her to bail. To call the whole thing off. But she was so close, Fred would be here soon. She was sure of it.

“Well I-“

“Y/n.” Fred FINALLY cut in. “Can I have a word?”

~~~

Fred ushered her quickly into his room. 11:50.

“The hell was that?” Fred was seething, “Cormac? I knew you were stubborn but I didn’t think you were that cruel.”

“Why? Jealous?” She teased, not quite grasping just how angry he was.

“Why is this a game to you? Why am I a game to you?” Fred sat down facing away from her, raking his fingers through his copper hair.

Y/n was dumbstruck. What just happened?

“What?” She was thoroughly confused.

Fred continued from his seat, “This whole thing. Do you think I wanted to be jealous? Do you think that I like how unreasonably irritated I get when someone else wants to carry your books? Why did you have to go and embarrass me for it? I’m sorry I ever even cared for you like that.”

“Fred- like what? What are you saying?”

“You know well what I mean. It’s already painful enough knowing I’m just a friend.”

“Fred, I guess I’m confused I-”

“I’m in love with you alright? I was perfectly fine loving you in secret! Why did you have to go and mess it all up?” He confessed, his temper getting the better of him. “Just forget it. Clearly, my feelings aren’t that important to you” He stood quickly and headed for the door.

“Fred wait!” He barreled out the door and down to the common room attempting to weave through all the people. Y/n was hot on his tail. “Fred- wait- please- just slow down a minute!”

He continued to push through and out of the portrait.

“Fred!” She followed just behind him, but he didn’t stop. Barreling all the way down through passageways and tunnels until finally reaching the boat house. He stopped on the edge of the dock, and she followed.

“You twat!” She accused.

“Oh, I’m the twat? You’re ridiculous,” He scoffed, turning to face her to argue further, but before he could she cried out.

“Oh for fucks sake!” Roughly, she grabbed the collar of his robes and yanked him closer to her, planting his lips directly on hers before removing them again.

He stared at her shocked, and for the second time tonight, Fred was at a loss for words.

“Did you seriously think I did all of this to embarrass you? Fred, I’m in love with you! I just was tired of dropping hints all the time, so I was hoping this might push you to admit your feelings. I had no idea it would go this far.”

“You- you love me too?”

“Of course I do! Fred, you and I both saw this week, that if I wanted to date someone else I could. But I don’t, okay? Can you get that through your thick skull?”

He stared at her. She stared at him. Gingerly, he approached her raising a hand up to hold her cheek in his palm.

“Y/n?” He whispered.

“Fred?”

The boy slowly moved his hand to grab her chin and pulled her lips closer, but just before they touched he stopped. Smirking he uttered, “It’s 12:05. You owe me some potions homework.”

“You’re insufferable,” she muttered as she finally closed the gap between them.

The kiss was slow and deliberate. The new couple was savoring their first real taste of each other. He tastes just like caramel she noted as he lightly nipped at her bottom lip. Y/n reached up to his neck to pull him closer, but Fred broke the kiss.

“Would you like to take this upstairs?” He asked, “Although the dress code for my room is no red so you’ll probably have to take that off.”

“Prick,” She said with a smile as she brought her lips back down to his.

#fanfic #fred and george #fred weasley #george weasley #harry potter #reader insert #fanfiction #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasleyxreader #y/n #fluff #angst with a happy ending #light angst #friends to lovers

649 notes · View notes

spitefulverse · 11 months

Text

Composure / Miguel O'Hara

Summary: You work close with Miguel at the HQ, having an exceptionally high rank for your age, and daily, Miguel has to compose himself, refusing to let a simple girl ruin him. Or let himself, ruin her.

Warnings: Ten year legal age gap, reader is 21, Miguel is 31. Cussing, implied sexual tension, implied reader has thick thighs, slow burn, very smutty sex at end, praise, p in v, unprotected sex, cream pie, idfk. miguel pushing himself away and being emo. NOT PROOFREAD 4.6k words.

You sighed, a wave of tiredness smacking you directly in the face as it hit the third our of your day in the HQ, while you loved your job, it grew tedious. And here you were, picking up coffee for you and Miguel, like some intern, however he had the decency to give you his credit card, stating "Get yourself something, I'm not a dick"

You held two, warm, grande coffees in your hands as you walked into Miguel's office, he sat at his desk, fiddling with his watch, mumbling away to Lyla, you couldn't actually hear the conversation but his voice sounded displeased and unhappy. "Uh, Mr O'Hara" You cleared your throat, standing in the doorway, shuffling from foot to foot as his crimson stare slowly but surely traveled up your body, lingering on your lower half. His sunken eyes looked into yours, raising a hand to usher you over. "Thanks Lyla, you can go" He commented, eyes not leaving your frame and with that Lyla quickly dissipated, shooting you a smile as she did so. Slowly, you sauntered over, unbeknownst to why he made you feel so shrunken and quiet.

You would go into his office angry every time and without a doubt, skittishly leave his room, every time, crushing on him, thinking about how good he looks. Sometimes hes pacing, or leaning against the wall, or looking out the window in the back of the room, but every time, he seems to have an effect on you.

"Was there any issues, chiquita?" He asked, reaching out for his coffee, his large, calloused hand brushing against yours as you handed him it. Chiquita, you had googled it after he repeatedly called you it since you became more or less acquaintances, it can either be a term of endearment, like little one or little gift or it is what you would call a little girl, you hope it isn't the latter. The thought that every time he said it, he could be calling you ‘little one’ always made you bite the inside of your cheek, getting a bit giddy at the thought of him. There wasn't a time you saw him where he wasn't referring to you as ‘Chiquita’

You smiled "not at all, other than me feeling bad about using your card" You then pulled the card out of your waistband, having it tucked just between your shirt and skirt, placing that on the desk. His deep, red eyes followed your every move, watching your hands, lost in thought about how dainty they looked, he shook his head just slightly. "No, don't feel bad, i sent you on a coffee run, it's the least i could do, muñeca" He hummed, taking a drink from his coffee.

Even sat in his chair, he looked big, he was almost matching your height, broad shoulders covering the back of the seat. You nodded in response to him before looking around nervously, like you couldn't find the words to say, nor did you know what you wanted to say.

"Well, i appreciate it" That means a lot coming from him. "I do, but i need to get back to work, querida, is there anything you need?" He asked, voice hoarse, he slouched back into his chair, legs widespread and chest puffed out just slightly, a sight that you would think about for days. Timidly, you shook your head, giving him a small wave to which he quirked a brow and with little to no effort, lifted just his hand from the arm rest, tilting it to signal a silent goodbye as you turned on your heel and quietly stepped out the room.

Little did you know, his eyes burned into you as you walked away, watching your hips and thighs which were only held back by a short skirt and transparent pantyhose, something he sometimes considered you purposefully wore to drive him mad. He sighed, lifting his arm to pinch the bridge of his nose. "idiota, idiota, idiota" He quietly scolded himself under his breath. He took a sip of his coffee, inhaling, and somehow even the coffee had your scent laced upon it, he groaned, placing it down and getting back to work.

He had morals, while they were obscure and some would say disagreeable or incorrect, one of his morals was that he wouldn't flirt with a coworker ten years younger than him simply because she's pretty and intelligent, no, he didn't have time for mindless activities like that. But, fuck, you were really on his mind these days, and you were getting harder to resist.

Later that day he walked out of his office, straightening himself up and striding down the corridor, focusing on his watch to avoid meaningless conversation however something broke his focus. It was the sweet smell of your perfume and the light sound of your voice, he knew you were nearby and he silently cursed himself for leaving the confinement of his office. As if on command, you walked into his vision, chatting with another spiderman, showing the guy some papers in which he seemed extremely enthusiastic about. Miguel furrowed his brows, eyeing the situation, noticing the guy placing an hand on your shoulder, he came to a halt, a few meters away and cleared his throat.

Nervously, the younger spiderman looked up at him before looking down at his daypass, which wasn’t doing anything, and speaking up. "Uh, i have a thing in like five minutes, i have to- well- I'll see you" The man turned to you, smiling before bolting off, Miguel didn't bother to look at him, just looking at you. It was a hot day, in the HQ, especially with all the windows, you had unbuttoned the first few buttons of your blouse, exposing just enough of your chest to make his throat feel blocked.

Apprehensively, you questioned him "Are you okay? Did you need something.." Your voice was quiet and meek, he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment to compose himself, repeating, she's too young, over and over again in his head. "Yeah, sorry, chiquita..um- i just needed to ask you.."

His hair was pushed back, probably from how often he was brushing it out of his face in stress, his cheekbones seemed more defined than ever and his muscles squeezed at his suit as he drifted into thought, you could see his eyes faltering over your figure for a moment but you thought it was unlikely he was checking you out, so with a smile, you chuckled "Ask me.."

"What- Did.. you get the stats on earth 473?" He asked, running a hand through his hair, there it is, the reason it's slicked back. "I did" You exclaimed "It was super hard- walk with me” you interrupted your own words “buttt, me, the amazing one.." You giddily spoke, beginning to walk away, he followed, almost feeling like you were walking him like a dog, as he listened closely, eyes not leaving you. "i managed to find some old reports in the system, use the code from them, convert it back into the new report and boom, fresh, we now have all the information we need to make sure the canon events happen" You stopped in front of your office, turning to face him and smiling even brighter.

"Wow..well- thank you, dulzura, i didn't expect you to actually do it" He placed his hands on his waist, eyebrows raised and eyes soft "I'm pleasantly surprised"

You looked up at him, accidentally giving him puppy dog eyes due to his height. "yeah?" you bit your lip.

"Yeah good girl, email them to me, ok? then if you want..go home,you finish in an hour, it's hot and you've worked your ass off" He responded, averting his gaze to his watch to sort something quickly. Your cheeks felt hot at the nickname and your heart swelled at how nice he was being to you. "Thank you Mr O'hara" You jumped a little before going into your office, he just snickered, giving himself a pat on the back for how he handled the situation, he managed to not pounce on you in front of everyone, that means something.

Good girl. Good Girl, it was new. You couldn't stop thinking about how proud he looked, about the tone of his voice as he praised you, imagining if he would act the same in bed. It kept you up most of the night, thinking about him, had he interrupted the man flirting with you out of jealousy or by chance. Did he let just any coworker use his card, you doubted it, if you were in the HQ you'd ask Lyla, but there was no AI in your apartment. Once you finally fell asleep, managing to shush your thoughts about your very own boss, Miguel, your alarm rang not long after.

With a tired groan, you got up, changing into a smart dress, expecting heat so no pantyhose, the dress reached above your mid thigh but was professional enough, you were sure you had worn it before. With haste, you ate and made your way into the office, early as usual, deciding to grab Miguel a coffee as a thanks for the early leave yesterday.

You found yourself at his door, just like the day before, gently knocking, knuckles meeting the hardwood with a quiet sound. "Come in" You heard him, his voice sounding disinterested. As you stepped in, his head didn't move, he was standing at the back of his room, looking out the window, his hands on his hips. His back looked huge and you desperately wanted to be engulfed in a tight hug by his large frame, he seemed focused, his watch flickering but he wasn't acknowledging it.

"Mr O'hara" You spoke up, voice loud but sheepish. Suddenly, he spun around, eyes a little wide as he looked at you. "Ah, angelito..I didn't realise it was you knocking, i wouldve been more-" polite, is what he wanted to say, but he stopped himself, composure, don't get comfy, don't let her get attached, he told himself "Nothing" He nodded at you, as if to say 'go on'

"I brought you a coffee..as a thanks for yesterday" You smiled, holding the coffee out with lightly shaking hands. Just then he noticed your appearance, eyes travelling over the dress, stopping at where it hugged your thighs perfectly. He cursed himself and walked over, taking the coffee, letting his middle finger rest on your hand, pausing your shaking.

His hand was warm, and just the slightest touch made you feel hot, your face flushed and you looked at him with wide eyes. "You nervous, chiquita?" He tilted his head, eyes dark as he removed his hand from yours, taking a sip of the coffee.

"No- not at all Mr O'Hara, just-"

"Miguel" He looked away, voice stern and plain. You were taken aback, furrowing your brows "huh?"

"Call me Miguel, no need for formality, this is my business after all." He then internally punched himself in the face, what the fuck was he saying.

"But-"

"Ah- shush muñeca, I mean it, thank you for the coffee, you shouldn't have, what was it you wanted?" He was quick with his points and quick to finish others, leaving no room for questioning. He calmly strode over to his desk, taking a seat in the chair behind it, leaning back into it. You were speechless.

"I just- well i don't want to..push you too far" You started, tiptoeing over and taking a seat in the chair opposite, to which he quirked a brow, stopping mid coffee sip, watching the way you crossed one leg over the other. "But, my work laptop, it's kind of.."

"Shit" He commented, finishing your sentence, placing his coffee down, then his forearms on the table as if he was really listening to you, sitting up straight before leaning slightly towards you "I know they are"

"exactly, so, and you can say no but please, do not shut me down." You pointed at him, tilting your head and giving him a pleading look. He lifted his hands just slightly in mock defense, not making a sound. "Could i please, please have an upgrade?" You put your hands together and gave him your best sad eyes. Fuck, you could have anything you wanted, if it wasn't for his morals. You looked so timid and precious from his angle, it made his body shaky.

He stared blankly at you, scarlet eyes half lidded and unimpressed at your childish begging, but in reality it honestly turned him on, he wanted you to be begging for other things. It almost grew into a staring contest, your big eyes meeting his dissatisfied ones for a short while. You didn't seem to be quitting, so he sighed, looking down and shaking his head "¿qué me estás haciendo chiquita?" (T:what are you doing to me, little girl/one?) He groaned, brushing his hair back, missing various strands which fell onto his forehead. "Okay. We'll get you an upgrade, but do not tell everyone at HQ because then i'll have everyone in that chair with puppy dog eyes" He grunted.

You smiled brightly "Thank you!" He was being abnormally nice, you thought maybe you had impressed him with your work enough to earn a soft spot in his heart, while that was true, but in reality he was falling more and more each day. You then noticed his messy hair that he couldn't seem to control, ignoring your thanks as he attempted to push it back.

"If i may..Miguel?" You stood, leaning over the desk, inches away from him, you still weren’t used to his first name.

"Hm?" He looked up from his desk to be eye level with your chest, eyes widening and throat growing choked up. You hummed back, taking it as enough confirmation to gently fix his hair for him, fingers gently padding away at the loose strands, brushing his face, it made you feel hot, knowing you were so close to him, bending over his desk, but how you wished it was for another reason.

He couldn't look away, admiring the sight in front of him, when he shifted his vision, he saw your frame bending over, he didn't know which was more provocative but either way the blood was rushing somewhere he couldn't deal with right now, yet he didn't move you, he waited patiently, enjoying the feeling of your hands in his hair.

Slowly, you stepped back, smiling shyly "much better" You uttered, standing straight, noticing his flushed face. He mumbled a 'thank you' before shifting in his seat, confusing you a little, he seemed to adjust himself before standing up. He waltzed around his desk and to your side "I'll walk you to your office, i have a meeting in that department soon anyway" He changed the subject, liar.

You nodded, letting yourself out the door, him behind you, walking at the same pace. When you peaked at him, you met his eyes, both of you looking away in a panic at simultaneously being caught staring and catching the other. He again, cursed himself, a quiet string of Spanish curse words filling your ears. You found yourself slowing your steps so that you could walk side by side, he definitely noticed but didn't acknowledge it. Your soft hands brushed against his calloused, scarred ones with every step, you could see him looking bashfully to the side in your peripheral vision.

You reached the office door you knew so well and he stopped, about half a meter away. "Miguel.." You still were not used to that "Can you come in for a sec? It'll be quick"

His brows knitted to form a frown as he crossed his arms over his chest, eyes scanning your face for any mischief or lies before nodding "Of course" You opened the door and stepped in, letting him follow.

"Shut the door" You announced, turning to face him, he raised his brows, shutting the door, mouth opening as if ready to speak, angrily."Don't, nothing weird..just wanna..talk?" You stepped in front of him, looking up at him, his tall figure intimidating and deathly, his scent filling your nose.

"Are you asking me a question or stating something?" His voice was inquisitive as he eyed you curiously, his body seeming to lean away from you, defensive. "I-" You grew nervous, his cardinal eyes boring into you, pupils blown and lip slightly snarling. "I?"

You could hear his breathing, he could hear yours, you were so close, you smelt so good, he wanted to kiss you so bad, but he held himself above office relationships, ignoring all his flirty thoughts. Your hand pressed to his chest as you let out a shaky breath, thoughts clouding your head as your eyes flicked from his eyes to his lips, biting down on your own at the thought of kissing him. He tensed at your touch but couldn't help leaning into it. "You're driving me insane" He muttered, taking your hand in his, bringing it to his lips and kissing it, the feeling making sparks fly, heart beating so quick you swore it would fly away, you couldn't help but gasp.

"Y/n, You know i can't act on my thoughts about you" He sighed, letting go of your hands but you grabbed his wrists, you knew deep down if he wanted to he could pull away easily. Why was he being so open, why wasn’t he leaving or pushing you away from him with force?

"What thoughts Miguel? Tell me what you want" You pleaded and he shook his head, looking away from you before he lost all composure.

"Mierda..you know i can't chiquita..you're too young for me..I'm your boss, there is so fucking much wrong with just this conversation." He scolded, his voice raspy, accent thick.

"I don't care. Just act, stop hiding yourself from me" You whined slightly, looking up at him with those eyes he fell for. He groaned, removing his hands from your grip, taking your cheeks in his grasp and ducking his head down to smash his lips against yours, fuck was he breaking his morals. He felt so guilty but the feeling of your lips on his felt so good. You didn't have a twinge of guilt, finally feeling the relief you needed, the dim lights of your office the perfect lighting for a kiss.

As his lips molded to yours, your mouth opened, tongues touching in perfect bliss, a low grunt rumbling from him, vibrating against your lips. His hands fell into your hair, keeping you as close as possible as your hands found their way to his shoulders, palms spreading over the blades, not able to reach around his neck. He gently sucked on your bottom lip before pulling back, the kiss being so deep a string a saliva connected the both of you for a split second, his face inches away as he breathed out, although you found yourself breathless.

"Well, your an amazing kisser" You breathed out nervously, hands gripping at the 'fabric' of his suit, his eyes softened and he hummed.

"So are you.." His hand stroked your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin "I can't do this princesa, i won't let myself do this to you" He shook his head, pressing his kiss to yours for a split second before pulling back, removing your hands from his shoulders.

"No Miguel, please, I wan't this, your the only one that doesn't"

"Mi vida..i wan't this, i wan't this bad, so very bad, believe me i do. But I'm dismissive and confusing, I'll hurt you, I know I will" He was so conflicted, like he didn't want to leave, nor was he going to, but he couldn't do anything because something unconsciously told him not to. You frowned, pulling him down to your level by his shoulders, cupping his cheek "I don't care Miguel, you won't hurt me, I won't let you"

"You're young and naive, you don't understand, i wan't to give you everything, it's so hard to resist you, but i'll ruin you, little one" His face was distressed, apart from his soft, swollen lips. The nickname made you suck in a breath and you bit down on your lip before shaking your head "So? ruin me" You teased.

He groaned in anticipation, the noise sounding whinier than before, as if he was losing the battle in his head, you knew you were breaking him down bit by bit. You both held eye contact for a moment as he seemed to think.

"For fucks sake" He growled, hands grasping your waist and pulling you in for another kiss, this time less loving and more needy, the feeling going straight to your core. His fingertips dug into your side, a moan erupting from you at the feeling, already so desperate. He pulled away and hooked his fingers under the hem of your dress "You don't take no for an answer, do you?" He snarled, looking into your eyes with his dark ones. With a smirk and giggle, you shook your head. He removed his fingers from your dress and slipped his hands to the back of your thighs, suddenly lifting you.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as he pushed you gently into the wall, his hand snaking all over your thigh, gripping at the plush, eyes staring down at your legs that squeezed him in. His eyes seemed to flutter, humming out a quiet moan as he played with you, before looking at you. "You act so innocent, but strut around showing off everything you can..you tease me all the time, do you know how hard it was to not take you right on my desk countless times, fuck just seeing you sit down earlier, it's like your trying to get me to fuck you" He declared, voice patronising.

"I am, everyday" You purred, not able to stop the grin on your face a he looks at you, shaking his head as if telling you off "So deceiving..hope you don't act like that with the others" he tutted.

"Just you, Miggy" You hummed, finally able to reach him, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers finding his hair, twirling it around your fingertips. "Good girl" The corner of his lips curved into a small smirk, there it was, the thing that kept you up all night and he was saying it again, this time the exact way you wanted. He averted his view back to your thighs, pushing your dress up to your hips agonizingly slow, fingers dragging over your skin, admiring the lace black panties you wore underneath.

"Fuck..tan jodidamente hermoso" (t: so fucking pretty) His fingers brushed over the material, your breath hitching as he grew closer and closer to where you needed him. "You sure you want this, you can't take it back once its happened mi amor" He looked at you through his lashes and you eagerly nodded, panting lightly. He then pushed your panties to the side, the thin material being no trouble to him as he stared at you, a shaky breath leaving him, his thumb lightly touching your clit. Whining just slightly, you bucked your hips in reaction, so desperate.

He snickered and pulled back his hands, holding you up with just his hips as he pressed some buttons on his watch, his suit literally disappearing, the sight making you gasp. "Tech" He shrugged before leaning down to kiss and nip at your neck, fang dragging over your throat, quiet moans filling his ears as he did so. He suddenly lifted one of his hands to our face "Spit into my hand” he mumbled into the skin of your neck, sucking lightly, marking you as his own.

A little confused, you cautiously spat, trying not to make too much noise from just his kisses, his hand fell back down between your legs, he stroked his cock with his now wet hand, dragging his hand up and down until he felt he was ready for you. The sight sinful and something you would think about for weeks. You could feel the vibrations of his noises against your neck as he dragged his tip along your folds, covering himself in your slick, the feeling making you even more needy. He pulled back from your neck, admiring his work before looking down at where your bodies touched, his hand grasping the base of his cock, lining himself up with your hole.

"You ready baby?" He asked and you nodded, hands tightening on his hair. He slowly pushed into you, the stretch insane, you could feel him twitch inside, you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut and he attached his mouth to yours, hoping to distract you as he fully bottomed out into you. Both of you moaned into the open-mouthed kiss, your fingertips tugged at the short hairs at the base of his neck

He began to slowly pull out of you before fully bottoming out again, hips meeting as he repeated the action, each time, your body bounced against the wall from the contact. The kiss grew sloppy as his movements sped up and you pulled back to dip your head into the crook of his neck, whining out at the amazing feeling of him hitting your g-spot repeatedly with each thrust.

"There? That the spot princesa?" he breathed out, his hand pressing against the wall for stability as the other squeezed your thigh desperately, his cock destroying you in the best way possible. You nodded, muttering out incoherent words into his collarbone, he realized how cockdrunk you were and couldn't help but grow slightly vain, the sound of you babbling and moaning going straight to his dick.

Your hands slid down his shoulders growing limp and landing on his mid back, nails digging into the skin, scratching slightly. "Feels s'good Miguel.." You rambled and he groaned "Yeah? Fuck, you feel fucking amazing baby" He fucked into you, noticing the way your walls began to squeeze him and hips began to rock to meet his.

You felt your orgasm going near, lower stomach tightening as you sputtered out curse words, he made sure to fuck you especially well as he panted out "can i cum inside?" His thrusts getting inconsistent and out of tempo. You nodded quickly "y-yeah, please, want it" You pierced his back with your nails.

Your ankles crossed around his waist, locking his body as close to you as possible and he pushed into you for the final time, his hand reaching to rub at your clit as he spilled his load into you, body shaking as you came at the feeling of it. For a moment you both stay, breathing heavily in silence before he carefully pulls back from you, straightening out your underwear after he was no longer inside you. He placed you on your desk, still between your legs, gingerly pressing a kiss to your neck before stepping back, causing you to whine at the loss of contact.

"I know, i know cariño..I'm not leaving" He reassured, pulling your skirt back down to your mid thigh, thumb then brushing over your marked neck. "You fucked up my back, mi corazon" He huffs, turning slightly to show you your damage, you could see the various white above skin cuts covering his back along with a few actual cuts, a small amount of blood decorating his muscles.

"Sorry, Miggy" You smiled, chuckling lightly at yourself. He looked at you, smiling a little "Your laughing? at my pain?"

"Nono!-" "I'm kidding, it felt fucking great doll" He pressed a kiss to your lips, rubbing at your thighs before pressing at his watch and appearing fully suited up again, aside from his face. "Now, im actually behind on work, so I need to catch up, but don't be stranger, you know my apartment number chiquita"

Then he left, disappointed in his lack of composure and self respect for sleeping with someone so young but also unbothered because he was madly in love with you. He couldn’t wait to see you again.

---

I know there is so many spelling mistakes so i deeply apologize, i wrote this quite quick. I'm happy to write a part two if anyone's interested angels ;))

Pet name translations:

Princesa-Princess, Dulzura-Sweetness, Muñeca-doll, Angelito- little angel, Mi Vida - My life, Mi corazon- my heart, Chiquita - little one/girl (duh)

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman x reader #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spitefulversefics #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara one shot #spiderman 2099 smut #spider verse

402 notes · View notes