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barleyo · 11 months

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Don’t Be Sorry.

(Miguel O’Hara X Fem! Reader) SMUT

A/N: (Cross-posted on my Ao3) This is a little longer than what I normally write, but for Miguel? I had to go all out. I hope you all enjoy, feel free to point out any errors, or to send in requests through my inbox.

“Jesus fucking Christ, another one? Come on now, you know this shit doesn’t grow on trees,” Miguel said, quickly picking up pieces of glass off of the floor.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drop it,” (Y/N) said while using her hands to cover her warm face, embarrassed from being berated in front of her coworkers.

By now, she should be used to it, seeing as her clumsiness preceded her around the lab. Most beakers dropped, scales broken, or test tubes shattered could be traced back to her, resulting in a semi-public reprimanding by Miguel. While her messes were frequent, her working results were impeccable, and so she was kept on at Alchemax.

“Don’t be sorry, be better.” Miguel tossed the broken flask pieces into a disposal container and pulled his gloves off, throwing them on the nearest lab table. “It’s every day with you, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t mean to make a mess–”

“Well, you always seem to, huh?” He grabbed a mop and sighed at the blue puddle on the bright, white floor. “Just look at that. Ah, how you’re still employed, I know not.”

“Please,” she said, eyes widening, “you’re embarrassing me, I said I was sorry.”

“You are sorry, aren’t you? Well, I’m sorry you can’t get your shit together.” His teeth bared and his hands tightened around the mop’s handle.

“Here,” she gripped the handle of the mop, trying to force it out of his hands, hands much bigger and stronger than her own, “let me clean it, please.”

“You know what? No. I'm gonna clean it, because at this point, I don’t even know if I could trust you to do something as simple as that. Now go finish your work before I get you sent home for the day, or do you need me to do that for you too?”

(Y/N) grimaced and shook her head. Walking back to her workstation, she couldn’t help but catch the amused faces of her coworkers, unsympathetic to her embarrassment. She sat down at her table, taking care to be as productive and precise as possible, not wishing to cause another scene.

She briefly peered over to Miguel’s station, only to find him doing the same. Their eyes met: his fierce and cold, hers timid and apologetic. He scoffed, looking away from her.

~~~

(Y/N) stood in the empty break room, waiting for the old coffee maker to finish brewing. While she was in the break room, it was not break-time. It was the end of the day, and most of her coworkers would have been at home already, but she couldn’t bring herself to return to her own just yet. She still had work to finish, and whether she had to stay in the lab all night or not, she was planning to finish it all, and then some.

Standing by the counter, she pushed herself up and sat on the counter, dangling her legs over the edge, kicking her feet. Hearing the dripping of the pot cease, she angled her torso around, opened the cabinet and looked for her mug. Blindly feeling around, she pulled one out. It was plain and white, and not her own. She placed it beside her and felt around again, failing to find hers.

“I wonder if I could just use this one?” she asked herself, holding it in front of her face, inspecting it for dust and cracks. In seeing neither, she decided to borrow it. (Y/N) poured a quarter of the pot’s liquid into the mug and sipped it gently, leaning her head back on the cabinet door. After emptying her cup, she slid down off of the counter and stood up, refilling it with her back to the door.

The break room door slammed open while she was pouring. The sound of the door banging made her flinch and spill coffee over her hand.

“Ouch!” She quickly turned around while gripping her burned hand. Her face paled at an unimpressed standing Miguel in the doorway, making his way over to her.

“Make another mess?” He eyed the stream of coffee leaking from the countertop to the floor.

“Yeah, I’m–” she hissed, feeling him snatch her hand and inspect it, “I’m sorry, Mr. O’Hara.”

“(Y/N),” he let go of her hand and walked past her, grabbing the tipped over mug, “this is mine.” He grabbed it and traced the new chip in the ceramic cup.

(Y/N) looked over and sighed, “I’m sorry, I’ll buy you another one, it was just the only one I could find, and I didn’t think it belonged to anyone.”

“Why are you such a moron?” he asked flatly.

“I’m sorry?” (Y/N) questioned, thinking she didn’t hear him correctly.

“I’m sorry,” he mocked, slamming his cup down on the counter, walking over to her. “Is that all you can say? You’re always fucking sorry, (Y/N) but you’re never better and I’m fucking sick of it.”

“I’m–”

“Shut up. Don’t you dare say it again, I don’t want your apologies, pendeja.” Miguel stood over her, dwarfing her in stature and volume. “It’s everyday, something new with you, and who deals with it? Me. Who cleans up after you? Me. Well, guess what? Not anymore, I'm done.” He jabbed his finger at her and opened his mouth to start speaking again before hearing her sniff loudly.

Her chest rose and heaved quickly as she tried to even her breathing. (Y/N) looked up at Miguel towering over her with her glossy eyes and nodded her head, feeling the hit, sticky tears from her eyes starting to fall. Miguel stepped back from her, his face twisted in discomfort.

“I—I know,” she choked out, “I’ve really been trying, but I keep messing up. I just want to be helpful, I've been doing my best, and I know– I know it’s not enough but,” she gasped, frantically catching her breath, “I’m sorry.” (Y/N) slid to the floor, head-to-knees.

Miguel sighed deeply and ran his hand through his hair. He joined her on the floor, pulling her arms off of her legs and lifting her head up.

“Now you wanna cry? Grow up, princesa, I’m not here to baby you,” he wiped the tears from her cheeks with the rough pads of his thumbs. He leaned closer to her face, hesitating before pushing his lips against hers.

His lips felt rough against hers, but she leaned into the kiss anyways, savoring the taste of him in her mouth. He acted insistently, but gently, in locking lips with (Y/N), raising his arm to cradle the back of her head, angling it to deepen their kiss.

“You feel better now?” Miguel pulled away, still cupping her face. His eyes had an empty, pained look, like he was looking right past her, but his words were soft as silk, strikingly different from how he normally spoke to her.

“More,” she sighed while saying this, making her incoherent.

“¿Qué? What did you say?”

(Y/N) grabbed his large forearm as it stretched beside her face and held it, clinging on, and looked up at him. She pushed her face back into his with a heated fever. Miguel closed his eyes and reopened the kiss, assuming the lead and pushing his tongue past (Y/N)’s lips. She widened her mouth, leaving him to access it with free reign as she played second fiddle to him, speeding up when he did, slowing down when he decided to.

He pushed her forward, forcing her back to the floor while he cradled her head. He slipped his knee in between her wet thighs, grinding it down onto her cunt through her pants. Pulling his tongue out of her mouth, Miguel placed both of his hands beside each side of her head, leaning over her fully, supporting his weight on just his hands and his stray knee rubbing her.

“Why did you stop?” she asked breathlessly, unsatisfied by the emptiness in her mouth, the feeling of her lonely tongue bothered her.

He ignored her and jerked his knee roughly, catching her clit perfectly. She gasped and closed her eyes again. (Y/N) felt her legs start to tighten and her hips start to buck against the pressure Miguel used on her. “Stop moving.” He removed his knee and replaced it with his fingers that slipped through the band of her panties under her pants.

Her slick coated his fingers as he rubbed tight, strong circles over her clit. Her nails dug into his bicep, leaving small, crescent marks over the skin, and her teeth bit her bottom lip, pricking blood.

“W–wait, ‘m gonna cum,” she moaned and clenched her fists, feeling her walls clench in sweet, sweet pleasure. She hiccupped, trying to calm her shaking legs while Miguel pulled his soaked fingers out of her pants. She sat up shakily and crawled on her knees over to the now standing Miguel, reaching at his pants. “Let me–”

He pulled her hand away from his pants, holding her wrist in the air. “No, (Y/N), I can’t do this,” he sighed. “Just… get cleaned up and go home okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.” He dropped her limp wrist and walked out of the break room, not looking back.

“Miguel?” she called out, barely above a whisper.

~~~

(Y/N)’s hands shook as she held the test tube. Her palms were sweaty, and her arms were tired as she tried to finish out the day. After her escape with Miguel the other night, she hadn’t the energy to complete all the work she planned on doing. She doubled her load and pushed through with not one mistake or accident, until she reached her final assignment.

Miguel’s nostrils flared as he swept up yet another pill of sharded glass. She had pushed a rack of test tubes onto the floor just as she had started her work. Tossing the broom into the corner of the lab, Miguel came up behind her, and grabbed her wrists, holding her hands like she was a puppet.

Leaning down to her ear, he whispered, “Since you can’t seem to do anything right by yourself, I’ll help you, princesa.”

He gripped her wrists tightly, pulling her hands over to a rag on her lab table. He pushed her hand down and made her pick it up and wipe down a spill on the table. (Y/N) felt the eyes of her coworkers on her and heard their amused chatter.

“See, not so hard, huh? Now, what if you had spilled something corrosive or worse?” he asked. “You need to get it together and be more careful,” he said, moving her hand back and forth to clean the mess.

“Sorry,” she mewled.

Pulling her back, he followed the spill to the floor, bending her over to wipe it up. His hips were angled against hers, rubbing himself against her ass every time he moved her small hand. Their merged bodies were covered by the workstation. He leaned into her neck, breathing onto it with a warm exhalation.

“I thought about yesterday,” he groaned into his ear, “and I think, you should stay later today. Do you understand?”

She nodded fervently, melting into his words.

“Thought so, now, if you’ll excuse me,” he stood up and turned around. “I think you can finish the rest yourself, (Y/N),” he said in his normal, harsh tone.

“Yes, sir, I can.” She stood up on her weak legs.

~~~

“That’s it, take it right in your little hand,” he groaned as she ran her hand over the thick, sticky shaft of his cock. She massaged his tip with the palm of her hand, rubbing the glob of precum leaking out.

Pressing a small kiss to the tip, she slowly starts to swallow his cock, hollowing out her cheeks to suction the length. The salty taste of his skin and his precum mixed with her saliva, and her slobber dripped down his shaft as she bobbed her head up and down over it. She pulled off briefly, licking up the spit bubbles she left on the tip.

Miguel pushed his foot between her legs while she kneeled on the floor. (Y/N) brought her weight down on his foot, grinding down on the toe of his shoe.

“Look at that, you’re so pathetic, baby,” he stifled a moan, catching it in his throat while he spoke. “There you go, keep humping my foot like the little dog you are.” He gripped her hair, forcing himself further down her throat. “Fuck, you gonna cum on my shoes? Yeah, baby, you gonna shine my shoes with your cum?”

Tears gathered at (Y/N)’s eyes, streaming down her cheeks while Miguel fucked her throat, slowly, but rough. Pulling his dick out, Miguel slapped his fat tip on her tongue, humming as she looked up at him with her wet, glossy eyes.

“I’m close, Miguel, ‘m–” she sped up, bumping her bare cunt on his shoe, wrapping her arms around his muscular leg. She came, her juices pumping out onto his black shoe, dripping down onto the cold floor.

Miguel gently kicked her off his leg, shaking her off onto the floor on her back, pulling his pants back up. He sat in between her legs, face hovering above her pulsing hole. He ran his tongue over her cunt, licking a thick stripe starting at her hole and ending at her swollen clit. Her legs tried to close at the feeling, but he gripped her thigh, holding her legs open forcefully.

“Don’t you dare close your legs on me, this pussy belongs to me, and I’ll see it if I damn well want to.”

Spreading her lips, he delivered a sharp smack to her clit. Her throat constricted with a choked moan.

“A-ah!” She gasped. “That hurt, Miguel.”

“Oh, did it?” He brought his hand down again, stinging her pussy. “Good.” He places his head between her thighs again, following up her pain with wet, raw pleasure. His tongue danced through her folds, honing in on her slick, pulsing bud, stopping to suck on it periodically.

He stares up at her from her cunt, slurping and moaning into her heat to watch her face warm up.

“Oh my god,” she moans, gripping his hair with her tight fist, “don’t stop, please, ‘m almost there.”

He pulled off quickly just to send another smack on her clit, sending her over the edge. Her legs clenched over his shoulders, locking him in between her legs while she rode out her orgasm. Her legs finally released him, and Miguel brought her to his lips. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and tangled his tongue with his, tongue fucking her with her juices coating his mouth.

“You see how good you taste, pequeña puta? Just like heaven,” he moaned into her mouth, swapping his spit into it.

She arched into his body, craving friction against his bulging erection. “Please? I need it now, I–”

“What? Use your words, what do you want me to do to you?”

She reached down and palmed his dick through his pants. “I need you to put it in me.”

Miguel smirked, pulling his cock back out of his pants in compliance. “God, I’m going to stretch you out so bad, princesa.” He teased the tip into her entrance, inching his hips in and out, preparing (Y/N) with shallow thrusts.

She grumbled feeling her pussy stretch to accommodate his cock’s size. The burn from the tearing was nothing compared to the bliss of being full with his dick, however, so she gritted her teeth and rocked in tandem with his thrusting.

“Ready?” He leaned to her ear, licking the shell.

She nodded.

Miguel picks up his pace, bottoming out into her cunt, prodding against her cervix’s tip. He props himself to his knees, tilting (Y/N) to her slide. Holding her leg to the side, he started slamming into her hole, hearing the loud, wet squelches fill his ears.

“Listen to that, sounds like a whore’s pussy,” he said and chuckled, pounding into her at a consistent pace.

(Y/N) shook her head, dizzy with ecstasy.

“No, you’re not a whore?”

“No, ‘m not…”

He grinned, sharp teeth showing. “Then why,” he deepened his strokes, bumping into her g-spot with each thrust, “are you moaning like one?”

A loud cry reverberated in her chest, escaping from her open mouth.

“That’s what I thought. My desperate little princess crying out like a slut,” he groaned as his balls tightened, “like a horny slut.”

“Yes, ‘m a slut,” she whined. Her pussy walls spasmed over Miguel’s dick, clenching and unclenching madly.

“Fuck..”

His eyes shut as he released his load deep into her pussy. He pulled and watched it pool out of her hole. He slid his fingers around in the mess and collected their juices, popping his fingers into his mouth.

He fell beside her on the floor and grabbed her shoulder, turning her shaking form to look at him. “Such a messy girl,” he sighed, “floor’s all dirty now.”

“I’m sorry, Miguel,” she felt him litter kisses onto her neck

“Don’t be sorry, mi vida.”.

#miguel o'hara #spiderman across the spiderverse #Smut #SMUT FIC #Smutty smut smut #barleyxnighteye #fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #enemies to lovers #semi-public sex

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mastermindmiko · 1 year

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Greenhouse escapades

Pairing: Neville Longbottom + fem!reader

Word count: 2868

Summary: You remember the beginnings of your relationship with Neville while hanging out with him outside the Greenhouse. You remember one too many things, and one thing leads to another and you end up getting caught in some activities that you shouldn’t have been up to.

Trigger warnings: deciding that there is no need for breakfast?, mentions of sex, kissing, foreplay, semi-pulic sex, mentions of fingering, sex. 18+, getting caught.

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Requests are open

As you sat on the green grass outside of the greenhouse with Neville you looked up at the sky guessing the most random shapes for each cloud you could see. Neville laughed at your cute but somewhat disturbing ideas for each cloud. His back was pressed against the glass of the Green House and you sat in between his legs as his hands were wrapped around your waist.

Everyone was in the great hall for breakfast, but you had already eaten with Neville earlier that morning so you both decided there was no need to go to breakfast. You were outside Neville’s favourite place, you both spent a lot of time in and out of the green house. You enjoyed looking at pretty flowers and Neville enjoyed tending to the pretty flowers.

The weather was hot, so you turned to Neville and took the hair tie that he always kept for you on his wrist. Neville always noticed the tiniest things about you; two of those things were that you always get hot quickly and that you lose your hair ties quickly as well. So he always keeps a hair tie on his wrist for you, and you found that adorable. He also noticed you fiddling with your fingers a lot when you're anxious so he lets you play with his fingers because you admitted it helps; he did that a lot even before you were dating.

As you laid back on his chest you leaned your head back on his shoulder and you felt him press a soft kiss on your neck. You smiled as you closed your eyes in blissful peace. You thought of how much you loved Neville, he always has a picture of you in his wallet and how much he constantly admires you, he always says that he’s the lucky one when he’s the most thoughtful person to ever exist. You loved how he still made pinky promises and the multiple kisses he leaves on your face to wake you up each morning.

You thought of all your moments with Neville; how he’d always give you a flower everyday and all the hugs he gave you from behind your back and twirled you. All the soft kisses and the rushed kisses, the kiss he’d give you after an entire summer of not seeing each other.

Then you thought of your memories with Neville in the Greenhouse, other than it being the place you both spend your most time together other than your dorm; it was the place that you both had your first kiss together and your first time.

***

You were in the greenhouse going to talk to Neville about how he’s been spending less time with you and more time with luna. A small part of you kept saying that they were just friends and that you shouldn’t worry, and the rest of you kept asking ‘Why do you even care?’

Neville walked into the greenhouse while holding a plant pot, presumably for one of the many plants he was currently caring for. “Neville!” You said.

He looked up at the call of his name and saw you, a smile spread on his face as he walked up to an empty space on one of the desks and placed the pot while saying “Hi.”

He washed his hands and he watched you fiddle with your fingers; and he walked up to you and handed you his hand which you then played with his fingers. Neville always loved helping you in some way and this way involved holding your hand so he couldn’t complain.

“Why don’t you like spending time with me anymore?” You asked quickly after minutes of silence, and you watched as his expression turned into shock immediately. He squeezed your two hands that were playing with his fingers and asked “What do you mean?”

You looked away from him slightly and let out a long sigh as you looked him in the eye once again, “You don’t spend as much time with me as you used to.”

Neville flushed and it was his turn to look away from you, he hadn’t realised he’d done it so obviously. He didn’t want to but realising his growing feelings for you and that you couldn’t possibly like him; he decided that that was the right thing to do. He didn’t want you to notice because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings.

You noticed his silence and you concluded that he was actually doing it on purpose; and you weren’t hallucinating. A frown was on your lips when you asked “Why? Did something happen? Did I do somethin-”

“No no no. You didn’t do anything, I just I-” He waved the hand that wasn’t holding yours and he sighed, cheeks flushing. You looked at him, not saying anything. “I-”

“If you don’t want to hang out with me, it’s fine. I can't force yo-” you started but you were cut off once again by him saying, “No it’s nothing like that, It’s my fault I just-” His gaze fell on your lips as an idea popped into his head.

You saw him look at your lips and your face flushed as butterflies exploded in your stomach. You thought about kissing him and you noticed that you would actually really really like it if he did that. “I just-”

He quickly pressed a peck to your lips and you were frozen even though you thought of it you hadn’t expected him to do it. He started muttering apologies as he took a step away from you letting your once almost intertwined hands fall apart.

You cut him off by placing your lips against his, and placing your hands around his neck. He kissed you back just as eagerly as you kissed him, and your lips were moulded together like two perfect pieces of a puzzle. You pushed your tongue inside his mouth and both your tongues played together. You heard him groan and as you pulled away to take your breath, you rested your forehead on his. You saw his boner and looked up at him, both his cheeks flushed red. Your panties got wet at the thought of Neville inside you.

You kissed him feverishly and you then asked him both your lips not parting except for long enough for you to let out a word at a time “Neville-” He pressed his lips against yours again, “do you-” you said as you pulled away from his slightly to ask your question, but you were only able to say those two words. “Neville, I want you.”

His cheeks flushed as he stopped kissing you and asked “Are you sure?” You nodded and you both laid on the floor that was covered with blankets. “Have you ever done this before?” You asked shyly.

“No, Have you?” He both replied and asked.

You shook your head and then you pressed your lips against his and started to play with his hair and his hands were beside your head. He carefully put his hands, respectfully, on your waist. When you both needed to catch your breaths, you pulled away and you rose up slightly taking off your shirt. His eyes looked all over your body taking in all of your skin he hadn't seen before, his breathing got heavier and you could feel his boner on your thigh.

You grabbed his wrist that was resting beside your head and placed it on your stomach encouraging him, “Touch me, Neville.” He pressed his lips against yours, he kissed you roughly and hungerly. His hands roamed your body and you helped him unclip your bra, and he threw it somewhere on the floor.

He placed his hands on your breasts and started to massage them and you started to let out small moans. You then striped off your pants leaving you in only your panties that were uncomfortably wet. Wide-eyed he looked all over your body that was exposed to him admiring your beauty.

You realised that he didn’t know what to do next so you grabbed his hand once again and placed it on your clit, you let out a small moan at the feeling of his hand around you; and his mouth opened slightly. Then you made his finger rub circles over your clit, you pulled your hips up slightly motioning for him to be near you. He started toying with your clit.

“Is this alright?” He asked slightly hesitant as he increased the pressure on your clit and cupped the rest of your pussy with his hand. “Yes Neville, It feels good.” You replied with your voice between a sigh and a moan.

After a few seconds you pushed his hand away reluctantly and you let out a whimper. He thought he did something wrong so he started asking quickly “Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you okay-”

“Yes Neville. I just want you inside me.” You said boldly and watched as he went to unbuckle his pants and you took off your panties.

***

You were brought out of your day dream and memory by a small “Darling?” You lifted your head off of Neville’s shoulder and looked at him, eyes opened, you still hadn't registered the wetness in your panties when he started saying “Are you okay? You were making um noises?”

You flushed feeling embarrassed that you pulled him out of his thoughts that were probably innocent, but your guilt washed away when you felt him grow hard under you. You noticed that while you were dreaming he had pulled you closer to both his hips and chest, and that his hands were on your thighs now not your waist.

“Neville.” You let out in a rough, strict voice. He was getting more courageous with the places you both had sex in, you always had sex in the Green house even though the walls were grass. You were both covered by the massive amounts of plants and their huge sizes, and you would always muffle your voice on Neville's shoulder.

“What love? He said innocently as he looked at you with his hands closer to your skirt. “You look so pretty in that skirt, I can’t help it; and then you let out some small moans. I just can’t stop myself.” he finished while pressing some small kisses on your neck.

“Neville.” You said with a groan as you pushed his head away from your neck and gave him a look.

“Please Darling. There’s no one around.” You looked around you both to check and there was in fact no one around, you were also wet so this would be a win for both of you. Then you remembered how Neville got bold while you two were having sex once again, so you had sex ten minutes before Charms in the classroom. So Flitwick had to return your bra to Neville, you were so embarrassed.

“Neville remember Charms.”

He let out an annoyed groan and said “That was one time, and so you see any professors around here?” He was once again right.

“That doesn’t matter, We’re in public and breakfast is going to finish.” You started to wonder how long you could stand the wetness in your panties. It's been about a week since you had done anything with Neville and you were getting impatient to feel him inside you.

He started from your temple to the base of your throat as his hands wandered up inside your skirt slowly rubbing your thighs at the same time. “So you don’t want this?”

“Yes.” You replied in what you thought was going to be a tough voice but came out as a breathy sigh. His hands reached your underwear and started to rub circles on your clit, knowing that since the first time you showed him how, he knew it was your weakness. You cursed yourself for telling him that and that you were almost agreeing to have sex with him in public while all the students were about to come out of the great hall soon.

You leaned your head back on his shoulder once again and you started to let out small moans and whimpers. “I’m taking them off, okay?” Neville said in your ear as his fingers reached the hem of your panties.

You nodded and felt him pull your panties down your legs, and you handed them to Neville; who smirked and said “Turn around.”

Sometimes you would absolutely hate how comfortable Neville became with you, but then you’d go back to loving him being himself with you. It was always kind of fun people thinking that Neville was innocent when at the same time they're saying that Neville has his hands up your skirt while you’re eating dinner at the great hall.

You turned around as cautiously as possible making sure not to flash your ass to anyone that was looking or that could be near, there was no one around. You avoided his gaze and your eyes were fixed more on his trousers. He pressed a long passionate kiss on your mouth.

While his tongue licked your bottom lip asking for an entrance and you parted your mouth, he started to unbuckle his belt and pulled his trousers and boxers below his hips so that his cock was able to become exposed to the air. He placed his hand on his cock rubbing it at the same time you placed your face into the crook of his neck trying to hide your face. You knew that Neville would have stopped if you told him to or if you were not turned on by this; but when he touched you and felt you dripping he knew that you didn’t want him to stop.

“Neville, can you be quicker?” You ask more of a demand than a question. You heard him chuckle and you could practically hear the smirk that was on his face as he replied “Of course love.”

He pulled up against him so that you were both brushing against each other in the most agonising way and you let out a breathy moan and the movement. You started to move your hips against his and his tip kept brushing against your pussy.

He kissed you urgently and passionately and you did the same thing. He started to position you on top of him, and when his tip was aligned with your entrance you pulled your mouth away from his. You slid all the way down on top of him , with you letting out a loud moan as soon as your hips met at the way he stretched you out.

“Fuck.” He said with a groan, when you put your arms behind his neck and started to bounce on top of him. You had been on top many times before when there wasn’t any space for him to be on top of you, but this time the feeling of getting caught was making him inside you feel so much better.

Your skirt covered both his cock and your pussy but as you started to go faster your knees hitting the ground and you both let out moans, it was obvious what you were doing. You kept bouncing up and down as you rotate your hips every once in a while, and Neville couldn’t get enough of you as he placed his hands under your ass and pulled you closer to him making him groan louder. He started to kiss you again sensing that you were both getting too loud to not get caught and he kissed you feverishly, kissing your neck every once in a while.

He moved his hips to get him to reach a new angle inside you and he started thrusting up to you and your hips hit each other with every movement. You started moaning loudly and he pressed his lips onto your again muffling your sounds. You started to get close and from the amount of times you’ve reached this point with Neville he sensed this and started to increase his speed while rubbing sloppy circles on your clit.

He worked you through your orgasm and soon after that you felt him cum inside you, you knew the spell so it wasn’t a problem. After you pulled up from him, you sat on the ground beside him. You were still breathing heavily when he asked “Are you okay love?”

You nodded and started to lean into Neville. Then you heard a rustle in the leaves around you both and both frantically tried to look calm and cool. Professor Sprout came into view with Professor Slughorn, both of them looking awkward, “I just wanted to get him the potion ingredients.” said professor Sprout.

“Best be off to class, kids.” Professor Slughorn added trying to be cheerful and act as if they hadn’t heard you and Neville fucking a few seconds ago.

#neville #neville x y/n #neville longbotton x reader #neville longbottom #nevillelongbottomimagine #nevillelongbottomfluff #nevillelongbottomfanfiction #harry potter ff #smut #professorsprout #professor flitwick #greenhouses #hogwarts #semi-public sex #nevillelongbottom #nevillefluff #neville smut

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wangxianficrecs · 1 year

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Comfortable Silence by WritersBlock823 (rdlaserna)

Comfortable Silence

by WritersBlock823 (rdlaserna)

E, 65k, Wangxian

Summary: Wei Ying covers his mouth, eyes wide and tearful, then turns and runs back towards the subway station where the expensive-coat man has disappeared to. He hopes he hasn’t caught his train yet as he runs, giggles bursting out from his chest. As he enters the station, he glances around and immediately spots the back of the expensive-coat man. He’s waiting patiently among a group of passengers getting on a train. Wei Ying rushes forward and just barely manages to slip the man's wallet into the opposite coat pocket than it was retrieved from. The doors close behind the man, Wei Ying’s hand barely grazing the doors as he pulls it back. The man looks down and pulls his wallet from his pocket, looking confused. He turns, then, golden eyes meeting silver. Wei Ying’s breath catches. He’s the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. Long, curling lashes framing piercing golden eyes. Pale skin as white and smooth as jade. A sharp jawline leading towards a long neck featuring a prominent Adam's apple. His lips are plump and pink, and Wei Ying wonders what they’d feel like pressed against his own. Wei Ying grins at the man and mouths, “Just returning your stolen property! Be more careful of pickpockets!”

Kay's comments: This story was a joy to read and super funny too! In which Wangxian meet after Wei Ying returns Lan Zhan's stolen wallet and Lan Zhan makes it so that they will be roommates in their university dorm and they immediately hit it off Wangxian fashion! This story also features deaf Lan Zhan, who keeps his disabbility a secret in the beginning, but let's just say, Wei Ying is more observant than he expected! The angst was very minimal in this story and all misunderstandings are resolved without much drama, which I enjoyed a lot. I also love how Wangxian can't keep themselves from being accidental exhibitionists because they just can't wait to get their hands on each other.

Excerpt: “Mn,” the man replies, his voice much deeper than Wei Ying expected, and it sends a shiver down his spine. “When I was asked if I wanted a roommate, Uncle showed me a list of students seeking one. I saw your face, and recognized you. I wanted to thank you for returning my wallet. I saw the video posted online of the man who’d stolen it, and how you were able to get it back.” Wei Ying throws his head back and laughs. “That was a lot of fun.” The man’s lips twitch slightly, his eyes watching his mouth as he speaks before returning his gaze, which seems to be full of what Wei Ying thinks is amusement, and hums, “Mn,” once more. They stare at each other in silence for a moment, but it doesn’t feel awkward. “I’m glad I was able to help last week. I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again. I don’t even know your name. I didn’t take the time to look in your wallet - I just ran to try and find you before you disappeared on a train.” “Lan Zhan,” his roommate replies, a gleam in his eyes. “And you’re Wei Ying.” Wei Ying swallows hard, liking way too much how his name sounds on Lan Zhan’s tongue, and smiles. “That’s me. I’m glad to meet you officially, Lan Zhan.” Ooh, he likes how that feels on his tongue. Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan….why do you keep looking at my mouth?

pov wei wuxian, pov lan wangji, modern setting, modern no powers, college/university, roommates/housemates, deaf lan wangji, music student lan wangji, sign language, lip reading, music student wei wuxian, switching, non-consensual voyeurism, semi-public sex, getting together, friends to lovers, misunderstandings, mutual pining, love confessions, happy ending, child lan sizhui, jiang family dynamics, good uncle lan qiren, good sibling lan xichen, good sibling jiang yanli, @writersblock823

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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fandomfluffandfuck · 4 days

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Hallooooooo I'm just here again to tell you how much I love your writing and the way you portray Bucky as one whiny bitch has got me gripping my sheets NGHGGGGG Absolutely fucking love him in Here Kitty Kitty!!!!!

But I've been suddenly hit by a massive Subby!Steve beam and he's an even bigger whiny bitch than Bucky soooo

I present to you- Haunted Steve Rogers :>

Here me out!!! I read a post about ghost fucking and I can't stop thinking about Fresh faced Steve in the twenty first century with Ghost!Bucky Barnes who died in the early 2000s. They never met as children and Steve is mortified to find himself being haunted by a particularly perverted and thirsty AF ghost

Just imagine Steve out in Public, maybe in a mall or inside a packed train and he's just minding his own business until he feels cold wispy hands start groping him. Shivers breaks out of his skin at the cold touch and his complaints dies a quiet death when said cold touches slip down his nether regions.

Just Steve Rogers trying to keep quiet while Bucky molests him, squeezing and stroking his cock while he shakes with pleasure, barely standing and absolutely sweating under his clothing. He's pleading quietly, curling into himself and straining at the effort to not make a noise because Buck! We're in public! Not here please-

Just Steve Rogers trying to listen to a conversation happening in front of him while there's fingers stuck up his ass, cold and opening him roughly. The way his voice would hitch and a gasp leaves him once in while and him shakily telling the person in front of him that he's alright and that he's totally listening as if his prostate isn't being abused.

Just Steve Rogers in a meeting, continuously shifting in his seat. To other people, he's too pent up to sit still properly. The truth? He's got ghost! Bucky's dick buried in his ass, grinding into him and filling him up to the point he thinks he might choke on it. Steve can't beg, can't moan, can't even move because how the fuck is he gonna explain that he's being fucked by a ghostly being in the middle of a meeting?

The risk of being caught riles him up as much as Ghost!Bucky whispering filthy things in his ears like yeah you like that? Look at you, filthy as fuck and taking this dick up your tight ass- You're that desperate Stevie? That you'll have a ghost fucking you everywhere and anytime you want? Come on, open your eyes and look at all of these people in front of you, not knowing that Captain America's gagging for some ghost dick to screw him 24/7! How would they react knowing you're getting filled right now huh, practically a slut for it-

Imagine the mess on Steve's side, how he can go so many times even after coming!!! Just Bucky wringing one orgasm after another while he desperately fights for composure, barely standing and not making a sound, boxers absolutely drenched with his own release-

Or how easy just Bucky slips into him (magical ghost powers Ajdheje), accosting him and groping him wherever whenever he likes, leaching off Steve's warmth and life!! ACKKKKKK AIDHSIRJEORJFJ HEEHEHEHEHEH

-🫠🫠

"Here Kitty Kitty Kitty"

I'm glad you enjoyed whiny Bucky, lmao. He's a favorite for suuure 😏

And as for the idea of ghost!Bucky with freshly thawed Steve, I--

Holy fuck, I have seen some ghost-fucker content here and there (much with public stuff which is fun 🥴) but I haven't ever considered that with stucky and... I'm obsessed (possessed perhaps, lmao).

I'm especially obsessed with thrill seeker ghost!Bucky and stuttering, subby Steve, though. Goddamn.

I am enthralled with what you wrote! I have to say, though, my immediate thought--my immediate mental image, really--with this pairing was Steve with his leanly muscular, fawn-clumsy legs spread wide on his bed in the middle of the night, hips up, back arched, seemingly all alone and exposed. Moonbeams slip through his curtains into the room, lighting him up, dragging across his flushed, pale skin like a spotlight. His bare, shaven face is pressed hard into his white sheets--contrasting gorgeously, blank sheets, and the blood-hot flush painted with so much pigment, thick and wet, across his face. He's blushing from high on his cheeks all the way up to the hot shells of his ears. And for the most part, other than his quivering, open mouth and his heaving chest--face down, ass up--he's perfectly still. Debauched and statuesque in the middle of the night.

He should be chilled with the night air caressing his skin, but he isn't. He's burning up. The phantom hands on his skin are freezing but he's alive with flames, they're licking and scorching his skin, leaving him gasping, his hands scrunching the sheets into a wrinkled mess, fisting the fabric right by his head, both trying to hide the dirty ecstasy written over his pretty face in vain as Bucky's fucks him and just trying to have something, anything, to hold onto as his world is torn apart from overwhelming, crashing waves of pleasure.

Too much. Too good.

He can't see Bucky, but, oh, god, can he feel him.

Touching him. Fucking him. Groping him. Making handprints and bruises and bite marks appear on his warm, pink skin out of thin air.

He can hear him, too, whispering to him, fuck, he can almost feel it on the back of his neck, but he can't really. Of course not. Bucky isn't breathing down on him. He can't. He's just playing with him, drawing his pleasure out, pushing his nerves to the brink--Steve doesn't know what's hot and what's cold is anymore, Steve doesn't know what's real and what isn't, Steve doesn't know anything but pleasure like he's never felt before, given to him in the middle of the night when he's alone save for Bucky who makes him feel more alive than anyone else with a beating heart in their solid chest could.

(If anyone else were to walk in, though, god, it'd be a show. Steve writhing on his sheets without any influence. Completely stripped bare, exposed, and untouched..? Except, anyone can see the fingertip indents in his thighs as Bucky gropes him, anyone can see the wet, hot, open gape of his hole as Bucky fucks him, taking him from behind, anyone can see the tremble in his muscles as he crumbles under the influence of the unseen, anyone can see sweat glistening on his skin, anyone can see his fever, pink all over, anyone can see how much he loves it, his face twisted up in pleasure, lips hanging open, taking it like a good little slut. So desperate for dick he'll get it anywhere, anytime. He can't live without dick.)

Anyway--

I fucking love your idea. I love the thought of public ghost play, too!! I was just immediately on the bewitching hour, haunting ghost fucking vibe, lol.

I can just imagine Bucky always messing with Steve at the worst times, and when Steve tries to talk sense into Bucky behind closed doors, well, he just ends up a pile of mush as Bucky continues so there's not really any talking. What? They're in private now, isn't this what Steve wants? Isn't this what he was asking for?

Jesus.

They're trouble. They're both so hungry for touch, and they find it so easily in each other that no one else understands. It's kinky as fuck and it's sweet as fuck. I love it!!

Thank you for this! 😘

#asks #🫠🫠 anon #anon provided writing #semi-public sex #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #fic #ghost fucker #tw death #tw slight dubcon #tw dubious consent #ghost bucky #big sub steve

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alidravana · 22 days

Text

Fandom: 911

Ship: Tommy/Bucky

Length/Rating: ~1K, Explicit

Tags: Post-Rescue, Adrenaline, Friends With Benefits, Shameless Smut, Semi-Public Sex, Blow Jobs, Grinding, Intimacy, Developing Relationship

Summary:

As Buck, Tommy, and Eddie watched as Bobby and Athena reunited, all the adrenaline from the rescue continued to soar, and Buck could tell that Tommy was interested in doing something about it too, the way his hand trailed along Buck’s arm, tightening briefly on his elbow. All it took was a raised eyebrow, a tug on someone’s shirt, and an unattended bathroom stall, and Buck was pressing Tommy up against the wall, kicking the door shut behind him.

Had to get this out before tonight's episode! Mind the tags, this is a mature, NSFW fic.

Can be read on A03!

#911 #evan buckley #tommy kinard #buck/tommy #shameless smut #semi-public sex #post rescue #adrenaline rush

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iced-obsidian · 1 year

Text

Shopping Trip (Krueger x Reader)

The doors slide open when you approach them, and you step inside the huge mall, seeing shops left and right. You have one goal, and that goal lies a few meters away. You grab Sebastian’s hand, tugging him behind you as you start walking with determination to your set destination.

“Remind me why I had to come?” He asks, looking around. It’s all clothing stores, perfumeries, and some gaming shops that look too suspicious to be here. He, too, looks way too suspicious with his black gear. All black, not gothic, just mysterious.

You stop in front of a glass frame, the doors are already wide open, welcoming any customer that would dare enter this world of flashy colors and tall plastic mannequins who probably wouldn’t survive if they were made of flesh and bones.

“You are here to judge the outfits.” You answer, leading him to the part of the store where all the dresses are, or most of them.

“Would you even listen to me if I told you I didn’t like something?” He sighs, shaking his head but still letting you pull him wherever you want to go.

You shake your head, holding back a smile as you stand in front of a clothes rack holding multiple red colored dresses. You pass through each of them, sometimes taking one out and handing it to him, with the silent plea to carry them for you.

“I’m not sure that “dress hanger” was in the contract.” He laughs, but still holds onto the dresses, looking and feeling their texture, commenting on them sometimes.

“You just didn’t read the contract thoroughly enough.”

You stop yourself after having chosen four dresses from the multitude of choices that lay in front of you, telling yourself that you can always come back if it’s ever needed. Or send him. He’d be so happy to help.

You push him towards the fitting rooms. They’re mostly empty, only two of them have the curtain closed, and even then, you’re not sure anyone is on the other side. You choose the cabin at the far end of the hallway, pushing him inside before closing the curtain behind you. You sit him on the little bench next to the mirror, grabbing one of the dresses and placing it on one of the hooks near the mirror. You start taking your own clothes off, knowing very well that he’ll eat you with his eyes. You fold your clothes, placing them next to him on the bench before pulling the dress off the hanger and examining it a little more in detail. You feel his gaze on you, you know he’s following every curve of your body, from your full thighs to the fat on your stomach, the one that makes you double-take every choice you’ve ever made about clothes. Dresses are the hardest, because they’re fitting, because they force you to see the forms you don’t especially like.

He’s not really here to judge, he’s more here to hype you up, give you the boost of confidence that you know will run away from your own body as you try the dress.

You turn to him and he meets your eyes, the expression on his face sending shivers down your spine.

“Uh…before I try it, any opinion on the color and all?”

He takes a look at the dress, one hand reaching for the fabric and spreading out the pleat of the dress.

“Blood red, I like it. A bit short, don’t you think?”

There’s no judgment in his words, and you shake your head, placing the dress on your body. “Reaches mid-thigh, it’s long enough.”

He’s not looking at the dress anymore, but at your body, because when you move the dress away, his eyes stay fixated on your underwear, and you can almost swear he digs a hole through it with the wave of heat swimming through your body. If you ever doubt yourself and how attractive you are, you know exactly where to go to feel on top of the world.

You open the zipper on the back of the dress, stepping in it and sliding it up your body. The fabric is stretchy and comfortable, and the pleated part somewhat hides the parts you’re not very fond of.

“Help me close the back please.” You turn around, and he stands up, pulling the zipper up. His arms wrap around your body and he kisses the back of your neck, whispering how well the dress fits you. You could wear a trash bag, he’d tell you the same. He’s sincere, you know that much, but when it comes to you, he’s too enamored to have any valid opinion.

You look at yourself in the mirror, at him still holding you, swaying you left and right.

“I like it, but I want to try the other ones.” You tell him, and he lets you go, opening the zipper for you and leaving kisses along your spine while doing so. God, the shivers you feel make you almost sigh in pleasure, but you swallow the sound back down your throat.

You take the dress off, putting it on the hanger again and leaving it on the hook as you grab the second one. This one is lighter, the red almost a dark pink, and the bottom of the dress ends in a tube just below your ass. This one may be too short, but you still slide your legs inside, jumping your way through putting it on.

“Is the jumping part normal?” He asks, and you hear the smile in his voice.

“It’s part of the process.” You stick your tongue out, putting your arms through the straps. This dress is stretchy enough that it doesn’t need any zipper or openings to fit over your curves, but looking at yourself in the mirror doesn’t have the desired effect.

“I hate it.”

He doesn’t contradict what you say, doesn’t try to make you change your mind, just nods and tells you to try the next one. He knows that baseless compliments feel worse for you than a well placed insult, even if he doesn’t always agree with your views on your body.

You hurry to slide the dress off, throwing it in a bundle on the bench. It lands on top of your clothes and he grabs it, shaking it into its original form before putting it back on its hanger.

The third dress is similar to the first one, although maybe a little shorter, and the straps are wide, taking up the space from the end of your shoulder to the middle of a collarbone. The square neckline shows a bit more than you’d like, but you know Sebastian would use it as an argument to buy the dress. The thought makes you smile a little. You turn to him, pointing at the zipper.

“I like this one. It shimmers.” He whispers, his body unnecessarily close to yours, his back pressed against your chest. True, the fabric is covered in glitters, some of it sticking to your own fingers when you dust the dress off. You’re not sure of the quality, but you’re sure of the way your head leans to the side when he starts kissing the side of your neck.

You feel his hot breath against your skin, the wet heat of his tongue and the slight pain when he bites his way up to your ear. He migrates your body to face the mirror, his pointer finger following a line from the middle of your chin to the start of your décolleté, where the dress stops him from going further down. He’d rip it, if it was yours.

Instead, he cups your breast with one hand, observing your reactions through the mirror, the ones you try so hard to conceal. You’re blushing, there’s no hiding the effect he has on you, there’s no hiding the way your heart beats under his fingers. You know he feels it, because he asks, with a honey soft voice, and you feel your legs give up under you.

“Why is your heart beating so fast? I’m not doing anything…”

And his fake innocent tone doesn’t match his next move, his second hand pulling on the pleats of the dress, sliding the hem higher and higher up your thighs, until he can see your panties. He’s doing much more than nothing, and you watch, unable to stop him because maybe you want it as much as he does.

The hand he had placed on your breast slides down, and he sneaks a few fingers under the thin fabric of your underwear, reaching down until he feels wetness on his fingers. He hisses, and you’re certain he’s about to melt you, turn you into putty, with the way he locks eye contact with you.

“You’re soaking wet.”

His fingers glide a little higher, rubbing your clit for a few seconds before he takes his hand out, tugging on your underwear. “Take it off.”

You know nobody can see you, but your cheeks burn with shame and embarrassment as you tug your panties down, handing them to him. He puts them in his pocket, like he always does, and you’re positive your cheeks took a darker shade, if even possible.

His fingers regain their spot on your pussy, rubbing your clit, using his thigh to spread your legs how he pleases, and you know perfectly that those curtains won’t muffle any moans that might come out of your mouth, so you bite your lip, trying your best to control the volume of your voice, which becomes harder the closer you are to climaxing. Sebastian sees it, but instead of stopping the circling motion, he brings his other hand - after asking you to hold the skirt up - up to your mouth, pushing two fingers inside and letting you suck on them.

“Fuck…look at you, look at how good you look…” He murmurs. “I want to fuck you in that dress, make you fucking scream.”

You whine around his digits, your eyes rolling back when your first orgasm hits you, making your legs shake slightly and your breath catch in your throat. The only reason why you don’t collapse on the floor is because he holds you, one arm around your stomach, and sits you on his lap as he takes place on the bench. The dresses are on the floor, but none of you care. All you can see is the curtain, and you stare at it while he spreads your legs. Imagining someone enters it, they would see your cunt on full display, and this idea, fuck, it sends electrifying sensations in your lower stomach.

His fingers roam over the inside of your thighs, and he grabs the fat there, a growl rumbling from deep in his chest, making you almost mirror him with a moan. He wants you. He’s probably never wanted you more than right now. You feel it with the way he touches you. His hard cock is also a great indicator of it. His mouth closes around a spot on your neck, where he leaves a hickey dark enough for people to see. He loves it, showing people that he owns you, and showing you how much you belong to him, even when people are around, mostly when people are around.

“I wish people could see you, how pliant you’re being for me, how easy it is to slide my fingers in and out your cunt…” His gesture follows his words, and he pushes a few fingers of his right hand inside your pussy, thrusting them slowly, building your pleasure and molding you around it.

You gasp, your hips grinding, meeting his fingers or at least trying to, as muffled whimpers escape your lips, around his fingers, and you feel the drool pooling inside your mouth and down your chin. He doesn’t pull his fingers out, no, even pushing them further in, making you gag on them. The ones inside your cunt stop moving, and instead, he uses his thumb to massage your clit again, until your breath hitches, until your hips can’t help but buck forward, chasing your second orgasm, and he tears it out of you.

“That’s it, fuck…I’ll ruin that fucking dress, cum all over it.” He praises you, letting you ride your orgasm before pulling his fingers out of your cunt and your mouth, only to lift his slicked fingers up to your parted lips. “Suck them clean.”

You do, and tasting yourself on his fingers has you almost cumming a third time. With his free hand - the one not being currently drooled on - he opens his pants, taking his hard cock out. He keeps his promise, or at least fulfills the idea he’d had in mind of ruining the dress before you even bought it. You can see in the corner of your eye, that he’s jerking himself off, and you know it’ll all land on the back side of your dress, right under where the zipper stops, because that’s where he aims. You stay still, the way seeing that makes you feel is indescribable, but once you see it, you can’t take your eyes off it, and when he marks the dress, his head rolling back against the wall behind him, you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips.

“Told you.” He laughs, breathless. “Turn around, wanna fuck you.”

What you witnessed made the temperature of your body rise considerably, but seeing him still hard, as if making a mess of the dress had turned him on, makes your brain short-circuit, and you feel your pussy clench as you change position, facing him.

“I’ll have to buy the dress…” You pout, and he shakes his head, the words coming out of his mouth making your eyes widen a little.

“We can put it back, nobody will know, just us.” He lifts the skirt up with one hand, sliding the fingers of his other hand back inside you. “And one day, you’ll see someone wear that dress, or maybe another one, and you’ll think of me.”

Fuck. You can’t help but find this idea hot, although you wouldn’t agree on putting it back. He surely would do it, he’s that type. You have no time to think more about it, because his mouth on your décolleté distracts you, because everything he does stops you from thinking straight.

“I could mark the front too…” He looks down at the dress, clean…too clean. You see in the way his eyes light up that an idea pops in his mind, but he doesn’t say anything about it. You do feel a little scared, because his ideas are never what people would expect. He could open the curtain anytime and fuck you for everyone to see. You know he won’t do that, not here, but you know he’s been thinking about it.

He doesn’t jerk himself off immediately, but after taking his fingers out from inside you, he uses the slick to rub the tip of his cock, and you stare at his fingers while his eyes are riveted on you, on the dress, and he can’t fight the urge of cumming on it again, because he might as well ruin every part of it as much as he can. But first, he aims the head of his cock at your pussy, and you have to close your eyes to keep them from rolling back. His cum is hot against your skin, and he tells you to use it to rub your clit, turning what was left of you into a whining mess. You don’t care if people hear you, you can’t even think past the heat in your lower stomach, or past his cum, the one you use as lube to masturbate.

This time, his dick softens, and he watches you reach your third orgasm, body trembling, mouth agape and eyes closed. The muscles in your thighs tense for a second before relaxing, and you lay yourself on top of him, your face hidden in the crook of his neck. Your breath is erratic, your heart feels like it’s about to break out of your chest with how fast it’s beating, and you’re so wet you know it’s staining his pants, and you know he won’t mind, he’d proudly walk around knowing you ruined his pants, and you’d walk behind, cheeks red in embarrassment but feeling hornier than ever.

He pulls you in for a kiss, one soft in comparison to all the things he did to you, all the things he plans on doing, because you know he won’t stop until you’re unable to walk straight, until your inner thighs are wet with his cum and your juices.

You feel sweat run down your temples as he runs both his hands around your body, placing them on your asscheeks to push you closer to him, making you grind against his cock and silencing the moans you can’t hold back anymore with his lips on yours. It feels good, he feels good and your mind shuts down, instinct ruling your reactions, the speed at which you roll your hips, slow, intense, and when his cock is hard enough, he lifts you a little, removing one hand from the curve of your ass to lead his cock inside you. He doesn’t lift you up and down his cock, just makes you continue grinding, feel the way your cunt is stretched around his girth, how hot it is inside you, how wet it makes you.

“You’re so tight, fuck…” He moans against your lips, his voice just a bit hoarse, just a bit desperate, and when he can’t take it anymore, he plants his feet flat on the ground, grabs your hips, nails digging in the flesh, and thrusts his hips up, pushing his cock as deep as it can go, skin slapping against skin. You know that the background music that plays in the store hides most of the sounds, but you’re pretty sure that if anyone is in the room next to his one, they’re hearing what you’re doing.

Sebastian seems to have come up with the same conclusion, because his gaze shifts to the wall separating both fitting rooms, and he speeds up, as if trying to make sure that they’re hearing it, make sure they know you’re being fucked an inch into your own life. You moan, you whimper, you beg him to move…stop…just, anything. You need to feel him inside you, you need to try and control your voice, but he doesn’t let you, because when you clasp your hands on your mouth, he stops moving.

“Let them hear you.” He growls, and you clench around him, unsure of what pushed you over the edge. He curses under his breath as he reaches his own orgasm, and he fucks you through it, ripping broken moans out of you. He exhales, finally coming to a stop, and you sigh.

“Do you think they heard us?” You ask, eyes closed and forehead leaning against his shoulder.

“I hope they did.” He answers, and you should’ve seen it coming, you know exactly how he is. His fingers caress the base of your scalp, above your neck. He’s still inside of you, and you know that cum will drip out when he pulls out. Your body shivers.

“Nobody came, though.” You continue, your fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt, tugging on it.

“Want us to go on until someone opens the curtain?”

You don’t answer. There’s a pause from his side, one where you know the gears in his brain click together.

“Fuck. You do want that.”

#call of duty krueger #sebastian krueger #AO3 fanfic #repost #smut #semi-public sex #cod fanfic

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