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loganlermanstanaccount · 10 months

Note

hear me out..what abt u and miguel in a hotub trying to hide that fact that you guys are literally screwing eachother in front of the others🤭🤭and he’s talking u through it..whispering in ur ear..telling u to be quiet while he’s literally roaming his hands all over u! 😋😋

this is a leeetle bit funny to me bc in real life, sex is the last thing i'd wanna do in a hot tub. But for Miguel..... 😍😍

Wandering Hands

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: Husband!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary: You're on a trip away with your husband, Miguel. He gets handsy. (Hot tub sex + Husband!Miguel)

warnings: 18+ , fingering, p in v, instructional, Miguel talks you through it, teeny tiny bit of f!dom, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, very very sappy. Minors DNI

a/n: this is disgustingly sappy and cheesy at some points - I kinda have to apologise in advance. I've had a rough week lmao

very big thank you to my beta reader @tianyhi <33

wc: 2.7k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wandering hands: Miguel has wandering hands.

It's your anniversary, and that's the thought you're left with as he kneads your thigh, eyes low at a fancy resort. A resort you practically dragged him to, mind you. He's a workhorse; absorbed in his job and everything that comes with it. Your husband; diligent and devoted, as always; he needed a break. Somewhere hot, somewhere expensive. It’s what he deserved. And whilst he would never take the initiative to book one for himself, isn't that what a wonderful SO was there for?

To his credit, he's been 'unplugged' since the moment you got here - putting away his work laptop and ignoring all the calls he'd get from overbearing clients. His sole focus for this whole week is you; and he's made that abundantly clear. The lingering looks, gentle touches: everything about him screams love and warmth. And he's all yours - a fact that still sends you spiralling, every now and then. All yours.

"You're not paying attention, cariño." He says under his breath, swirling the wine under his nose like the man in front of him.

You're both at a wine tasting, like sophisticated adults (...who had made fun of the idea on the way over). Miguel's wearing pressed trousers that hang on his frame just right, and a tank top underneath an open button-up. The peek of flesh makes you hot under the collar like a Victorian housewife, and you flush when you realise you're staring. Miguel pinches your cheek with a laugh, soothing it with a simple kiss.

Huffing, you take a sip of the expensive wine without thinking. There’s a gasp from the sommelier, and the small group turns to look at you. Your face heats up when you realise what you’ve done - shirking from the pack of eyes silent with sharp critique. A man beside you taps your shoulder with a slimy smile.

“Miss, that’s a 1978 Monfortino. It probably costs more than your rent.”

“...I thought this was a wine tasting. So eventually, we have to… taste. The wine.” Miguel chuckles into his drink, squeezing at your waist. You make a fair point.

The man laughs, smug. “With all due respect, it’s an experience of the senses… maybe this is your first time somewhere with this kind of price tag, but it’s quite rude to-”

Miguel clears his throat, flashing a disarming smile at the man to your side. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, with a dangerous veneer you’ve seen before. The smile he gives before closing a big deal at work, calculated and shiny – when he smells blood in the water.

“With all due respect, watch your fucking tone.”

His face drops just as quickly, and he downs the rest of his wine, standing up - hand outstretched to take you with him. Gladly, you follow, click-clacking in your heels and little dress; hand tight around his.

“...Pinche idiota…vete a la verga…smug little-” It’s under his breath, but his intensity makes you giggle.

In the elevator up to your room, he stews, brow creased in little furrows. A force of habit, he pulls you closer, tucking away a stray strand of hair. With a smile, you knead his temples, smoothing the creases. He visibly softens and leans into your touch.

“You’re on vacation, Miguel. Relax, baby.”

“S’not that simple.” He grumbles, but chases your lips with his own, regardless.

Defiant, you move at the last moment, chin up in the air.

“No, I’m being serious.” He snakes a hand to your ass, dancing over the hem of your dress.

"I could think of a few ways to decompress, if you're up for it…" Voice low and silky, want pools at the base of your stomach.

"Miguelito, the bedroom voice doesn't work on me, anymore." You slather on the charm, batting your eyelashes in a way that makes him laugh. He rolls his eyes.

"Let's do something. I think…I think the spa's still open? We could get a massage-"

"I don't want a massage unless it's you, baby."

"...or go to the sauna-"

"Didn't pack the right clothes, m'afraid."

"God, don't be mean." It's your turn to roll your eyes. And you whack at his chest, admonishing him gently. "What about the hot tubs?"

He turns his head to the side as if he's deep in thought. Pondering, weighing up the options; when really, the only thought in his head was you in a tiny bikini.

"If you insist, cariño."

~~~

The spa isn't too far from your hotel, a stone's throw from the beach. You walk with Miguel in the pleasant evening heat, flip-flops and cover ups light on your back.

There at the back, open air, behind rows of beach houses and overlooking the sea. You settle into the tubs, each one sectioned by wooden slats and climbing plants - not visible from the main spa, but not completely closed off, either. You can still hear the quiet buzz of other people, although it's not too full this late in the day.

You slip the light fabric onto the floor, and step out of the cover-up. Miguel, already in the water, watches the light ripple off of your skin. You don't catch him staring, but you feel it. His gaze is heavy as he drinks it in; you are dappled and gorgeous, and his heart is full. You slip in, shuffling up close to him in the dull thrum of the water jets.

Eyes closed, you rest your head on his shoulder. "You're staring."

"Yeah." It's so soft, said in the press of warm bodies, that you almost don't hear it. Playfully, he flicks your forehead - in that little triangle between your eyebrows that appears when you're resting. It's cute, he thinks. "...you got a problem with that?"

Laughing, you shake your head. "It's not too much?"

He moves closer to you, hands on your hips and mouth pressing soft kisses into your neck.

"The trip, I mean. It was a little last minute, and there was that thing with our passports…" You sigh, turning towards him, hand on his chest to stop him. "I just thought you needed a break. And I know this isn't usually your thing, but I want you to enjoy yourself. If you're not, let me know, and I'll book the first plane out of here, I promise."

You're looking up at him, clearly worried, and his heart breaks. It's almost as if you've forgotten that an anniversary entails both people, together as one. The truth is, as long as he's with you, and you're having a good time…

"Doesn't matter where we go, cariño. I'm right where I need to be if I'm with you." He says it like a statement - so matter-of-factly it makes your head spin. Because, you suppose, to him it was a ubiquitous truth: that in every universe, every iteration, the both of you belonged together. What would sound over the top or cheesy coming from someone else, is made so simple by Miguel. A fundamental truth: his home, his happiness, his heartaches and highest highs, were with you, and you alone.

"Promise me."

"Hand on my heart, baby." He places a palm that spans the crest of his ribcage. "...I promise."

He guides you onto his lap, so your back presses to his. His kisses are so light and airy, you don't notice how his hand creeps towards your thigh and the gentle movement of his hips under yours.

"You always take care of me," His hand snaps the band of your bikini bottoms, making you writhe on his lap. "Let me return the favour. Relax, cariño."

You nod, gently, eyes blown when you realise what exactly that means. Miguel's large palms dance over your tummy, pinching at the flesh to make you laugh; and then down to your thighs, to paw at them. He shifts, directing you over the jet by the base of the seat, and there is delicious pressure at your clit.

He cups your pussy under the foam of the water, ripping a heady moan of which you try to subdue. You lean into it: the hand that's now migrated into your bikini, the rock of his hips, and the hickeys he sucks into skin. Coupled with the fact you were in public, he brings you to climax quicker than even he expected. You were so needy, everything about your body telling him you wanted more - needed more. He presses the pad of his finger over your clit, barely there, and you claw at his arms under the water.

"More?" He coos, dulcet tones brushing the shell of your ear. "Pórtate bien, okay?"

So lost in your haze, you don't register the steady padding of a pair of people coming towards you, behind the wooden divider. A head pops over, and you still his wandering hands.

"Oh, there y'all are!" You see the bronzed face of Jess and her husband, a couple you had met during the trip. She bounces towards you both with dizzying accuracy, donned in a bright swimsuit and sheer cover up around her waist. Her husband is quieter, opting for a nod to Miguel, behind you.

"Can we join you? Hope we aren't interrupting anything."

Miguel meets your eyes.

"Is it okay?" He says, a thousand words said in your exchange. We don't have to do anything, it's up to you.

"It's fine," You breathe and then louder, to Jess. "It's fine."

He kisses your forehead and squeezes you closer, shifting so you feel his growing length under his shorts. An action that would seem innocent to a passer-by but below the surface…

He starts off slow, imperceptible movements as he strokes your clit. It makes you impatient, irritated that he had the audacity to start something he couldn't finish. Or, wouldn't, rather. You make lazy conversation with Jess and her husband; innocuous little things that barely take your mind off of Miguel behind you.

Some time goes by, and he's somewhat conservative – hand pressed against your pussy like his fingers were made for you. You get used to the pressure, as Jess talks about her day.

"...they're having a sale, as well! We're gonna go back there tomorrow, because, God, there were these earrings that I couldn't take my eyes off of, real gold, and only-"

"Fuck!" He slips two fingers in, without warning, sinking to the knuckle as your little hole adjusts. Jess pauses, a little confused.

"I was just…" He scissors them ever so slightly, enjoying watching you squirm. "...t-thinking about how great that deal was. Like… fuck! Real gold!"

Internally, you wince, hoping she buys it. Jess isn't stupid, but you don't think she knows you well enough to notice your husband fingering you in a hot tub. You hope.

"Right." She gives you the benefit of the doubt. "Not gold-plated, real gold."

You nod, hoping the foam from the jets is hiding the way you rock into Miguels' fingers. They feel good, curling up into you at that spongy spot he knows too well.

"There's a good food spot, by the boardwalk. I think they do…" She turns to her husband, who has an arm draped around her.

"Pasta, baby."

"Pasta! Yes, of course. We had a gorgeous meal and they served mussels, with the dish you were on about, before."

A beat. And then another. There’s a pregnant pause, before Miguel nudges you gently. "Yeah, sorry. It was the… garlick-y… one that had, um…"

You can't concentrate, against his wide torso, his hands between your legs: your brain goes fuzzy. You catch a smile tugging at his lips; and you almost scream. It's cruel, and all he can do is laugh.

"Miguel's more interested in that stuff, m'afraid." You give her a weak smile, and Miguel rewards you with a thumb to your clit.

It takes you everything not to jump at the pleasure that rocks your core; and you clamp a hand to his thigh. You make eye contact and he smiles; the smug fuck; gently chattering on with Jess about your trip to a local market, the other day. He's as casual as can be, and seemingly unaffected.

You try your hardest to nod and smile where necessary; giving simple answers that wouldn't require much thought. In the cool night air, the conversation is pleasant enough, but your husband insists on stretching out your orgasm – watching for the tell-tale signs and pulling away. It's a game of cat and mouse; and whilst you just want to get off, Miguel takes pleasure in the chase.

"We should be heading off, I think." Jess says after a while. "Just wanted to catch up with you two."

Miguel smiles, dizzying and innocuous. "We're happy to, Jess."

They slip out with a splash, and she nods towards you. "You ok, sweetheart? You just seem a bit out of it, today."

Perhaps too hastily, you nod. "I think…I t-think it was something I ate."

"Oh." She looks a little worried, and it makes you feel guilty. "You get better then. I'll give you a call tomorrow."

"Thanks, Jess." And with that, they make their way out.

Once out of sight, Miguel speeds up, his other hand on your thigh to wrench your legs open. The speed makes you dizzy, melting with your head back on his shoulder and desperately humping his hand for some relief. The rock and slosh of water over tiles barely registers in your fog.

As you moan and writhe, he whispers filth into your ear.

"Quieter, cariño. What if someone hears?" You whine and all he does is chuckle, lowly. "What if they find you, spread on my lap, fucking yourself on my fingers?"

"You're being mean."

"Eso no es justo, amor." He titters, shaking his head. "You told me to relax, no? This is how I want to relax."

Tears prick at your eyes, as he uses his other hand to rub circles into your clit, the warm froth washes over you both, but all you can feel is him.

"¿Dime que quieres, hermosa?" What do you want?

"M'close, Miguel." You bite down another moan. “I’m ready.”

"Want to feel it, baby. Cum for me."

You tilt your head to the side, and he captures your lips with his own – in awe as you clamp around his fingers. Grinding down on his crotch, you ride out your orgasm. The way he makes you feel is hot, and wet and filthy.

When your shaking legs still, you turn around to face him. He's hard, and too much of a gentleman to take his own pleasure. You slip a hand into his shorts, hand hot against his cock. It's his turn to lean into the bliss: head back and lips slightly parted with pleasure.

You've always liked his lips, plump and kissable, a pretty pink that just fits against yours.

"You're teasing." He hisses softly.

You scrape your nails along his chest, and he keens, clutching your hand close to his heart.

"...and what exactly have you been doing all night?“ You make a tight ring with your fingers, squeezing his tip and his hips jump up.

"Vale, vale, vaaale…." He paws at you waist, a little desperate. "Fuck- I get it."

You give him a kiss, wet and needy, before slipping the gusset of your bikini to the side and sinking down on his length. He cries out and you swallow it, pressing yourself even closer to him. With your tits against his chest like that, he can't think straight. You shift against his length, finding a steady rhythm but it's too slow – and Miguel grows impatient. With a growl, he places both hands on your hips, forcing you downwards as you writhe on his length.

"Dámelo, dámelo…" He slams his cock into you - hard and fast and just the way you like it. "Just like that, baby, just like-"

That growing coil at the base of your stomach snaps, and you clamp around him. But he doesn't stop, just fucks you through it until he cums, hot and sticky fluids spilling into you. Panting, you capture him into a kiss. You separate, and he's got a dopey smile on his face.

Content. Relaxed, even.

~~~

Jess calls you the morning after, and you answer.

"Hey, everything ok?" You yawn into the receiver, a little tired from last night's activities.

"I said I would call, didn't I?"

You hum. "...suppose you did."

"You feeling better now Miguel's not playing with your pussy in a hot tub?"

Shit. You almost drop the phone. "Jesus, we didn't-"

"Save. It." She grumbles something you can't quite hear; something you suspect you're better off not hearing, anyways.

"...Sorry. We weren't really thinking."

"Damn straight." She pauses. "I'm not mad, sweetheart. Can’t even judge you, to be honest. As I always say, it's not a real vacation until you fuck your husband somewhere you shouldn't-"

"Gross, Jess."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did the woman who got fingered in a hot tub just say something??"

You wince at the vulgarity of her words.

"....Ouch."

She laughs into the speakerphone, and you join her. Besides you, Miguel stirs, a little smile on his face. Half asleep, he thinks he’s heard an angel, voice light and airy in the space of your hotel room.

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @tea-earl-grey-thot

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #atsv #atsv x reader #miguel o'hara smut #kat_writes😼#spiderman2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #fine ass man #luv him

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lovebugism · 6 months

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fictober idea (if ure up for smut): eddie & reader go to a haunted house. eddie, obviously, gets a boner bc hes a weirdo. reader notices & begs to touch him right here, right now even tho theyve never done anything in public before. so, eddie finds a place to *kinda* hide & reader gets him off, but ofc, eddie cant let reader go without cumming as well.

thanks for requesting :D — eddie gets turned on protecting you at a haunted house, and you obv have to reward him for it (smut 18+, 1.5k)

fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie’s been called a freak his whole life. He knew he was different since he could understand what being different meant, and if that made him a weirdo, then so be it. But now he thinks everyone might’ve been right about him. He’s a complete, utter, and total freak.

He walks with you through a haunted house, surrounded by creepy masks and fake blood and your screams, and he’s hard. His dick’s as stiff as a rock and throbbing with a distant ache when most people are scared out of their minds.

It’s all your fault, honestly. You’re clinging to him with an ironclad grip and using him as a shield every time something jumps out at you. Eddie can’t even be scared with you because all he can think about is how masculine he feels protecting you like this. Metalhead freaks like him never get to feel this way — all manly and muscly and brave.

And even though it’s hard to walk while adjusting his pants every five steps, Eddie thinks he’s hiding it pretty well. Well, he was, anyway. Until your ass brushes against his lap, and you clock him immediately.

Trapped in a secluded area of the haunted house, lit up red and blaring the Halloween theme song, you spin around to face him. “Are you hard?” you ask him over the music, face twisted in confusion. You’re not weirded out by it exactly, just genuinely puzzled.

Eddie freezes, chocolate eyes wide. He plays coy despite being caught red-handed. “No.”

You shoot him a deadpanned look, brows raised as you peer at him through your lashes.

He caves. “…Yes.”

“Does scary shit turn you on?” you wonder, laughing softly.

“No!” he responds with a dramatic drawl, sounding more offended than he should be. He is standing rock-hard in the middle of a haunted house, after all. He shifts his weight on his feet and stammers for an answer. “I just… I like being able to protect you and… everything.”

“Aw…” you hum, melting into a puddle at his feet. “That’s kinda sweet, actually.”

Eddie’s visibly surprised by your response. He was prepared to get made fun of at best — slapped and dumped entirely at worst. But here you are, all but admiring how much of a freak your boyfriend is.

“Wait, really?”

You shrug. “Yeah. Especially considering last Halloween, the guy I was dating left me behind at a haunted house.”

“Pussy…” Eddie grumbles under his breath.

“Exactly,” you giggle. “So this is definitely an upgrade.”

Your palms smooth up his chest and over his shoulders. Your fingers entwine behind his neck, halfway embracing him in the middle of the haunt. His hands settle warm and wide on your sides. He squeezes you gently there and lets out a sigh of relief.

“I’m just glad you don’t think I’m a total freak,” he confesses with a forced chuckle.

“Oh, I definitely think you’re a freak,” you retort in a monotone, then flash him a sickly sweet smile. “I’m just too obsessed with you to care.”

Eddie nods and tries not to smile too wide when you lean in to kiss him. “Noted,” he murmurs.

You do a whole lot more than just kiss him, though. You open his mouth with your own and lick inside with a confident tongue. You take the breath from his lungs with little effort, leaving him more breathless than he has been all night.

“Wanna suck you off,” you murmur, slurred and muffled against his mouth.

He jerks away from you on instinct. He couldn’t hide his shock if he tried. “Huh?” he wonders in a tone that borders on cartoonish. His soft features twist in confusion.

“I need your cock in my mouth like I need to breathe,” you confess with an unabashed groan.

Maybe he wasn’t the freak after all. Maybe this whole time, it was you.

“Well, that’sa tad bit dramatic, but—” You cut off his teasing by fussing with the buckle of his belt. His eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t try to stop you. “Whoa. Okay. This is… This is great and everything, babe, but there’s— there’s people around. Someone could walk in.”

You look to your left, then to your right. There’s no one here but you and Eddie in this small square room, filled with a fiery red like the warmth swirling in your belly. You blink at him with doe eyes and shrug innocently. “I don’t see anyone.”

Eddie breathes out a laugh, one mixed with amusement and disbelief. “I just don’t wanna us to get caught, babe,” he tells you, smoothing wide palms up and down your arms. “Don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Do you want a blowjob or not?”

“Well, yeah, but I—”

“Good,” you hum with a smile before sinking to your knees in front of him.

Eddie’s too stunned to stop you. He doesn’t want to stop you.

Bathed in a sinful neon red, you unbutton his pants and free his half-hard cock from the confines of his jeans. You tug at the hem of his underwear until his heavy balls hang over the plaid fabric.

“Shit,” he mutters when you press a sweet kiss to his weeping tip. He bites back a moan when you swirl your tongue around the bulbous strawberry head. “Shit— you’re so fucking hot.”

You worship his cock like it’s not just some random Tuesday in the middle of a haunted house. You don’t mean to, really, but he’s making such pretty noises for you — little puffs of tiny breaths and small whines he tries desperately to hide from you.

His thighs twitch every time you run your tongue over the veins on the underside of him, going slow to feel the rapid pulse there. His fingers crawl in your hair, palms settling on your temples — not pushing you or pulling you away, just holding you as you suck gently at his aching cock.

His pink lips are parted, airing out little moans of ecstasy. His chocolate eyes are dark and glazed over in a honeyed look. His hair hangs over his face, wild and desperate to be pulled.

You let his tip linger in your mouth, drool pooling around him and soaking his twitching cock. The feeling makes him moan — a deep, hearty sound that stems from his chest.

When his lolling head drops back, you take him in your fist. You don’t bother to work him up to a rapid pace. Using the lubrication of your spit, you jerk him with an expert hand and lick away the pearly beads of pre-cum he leaks for you.

“Ah, shit,” he groans, eyes rolled back before he squeezes them shut. “Oh, fuck, babe—”

You’re already opening your mouth for his cum before he can warn you it’s coming. You know him too well. You notice all the telltale signs before you think he does — the whimpers, the shaking thighs, the rambled moans, the way his balls draw slightly upward. You’re ready to accept his warm, salty loads the second he gives them to you.

Eddie cups your warm cheek with a ringed hand. He tries to tell you he’s cumming, but his whines get in the way. He grunts quietly, tilting his head backward and holding tightly to you as cum pulses weakly from his slit.

The tang dribbles over your tongue and mouth. You take it all with ease. You make a big show of it, too — lolling your tongue out of your mouth and letting his cum drip onto the softening pudge of his head. Eddie’s whole body twitches when you take his sensitive cock in your mouth again to swallow it down, like a goddamn lightning strike up his spine.

“How’d I—” His voice is hoarse, so he has to stop and clear his throat. You smile, lips swollen and spit-slick, as you tuck his soft cock back into his jeans and button them again. His eyes are half-lidded and darkened when you rise to full height. “How’d I get so fucking lucky with you, huh?”

You make a vague I don’t know sound and shrug your shoulders with an innocent grin. You lean into his palm when he puts his ringed hands on your jaw.

“Jesus fucking christ— you’re so pretty, baby— fuck.”

He’s just rambling now, still a bit dazed from his orgasm. He kisses you harder than anyone’s ever been kissed before, stealing the air from your lungs with ease. It’s like he’s amazed by his own adoration for you — the sheer intensity of it — the way it makes him stupid enough to let you suck his cock in a poorly hidden spot of a haunted house.

You don’t get caught, though.

Not really, anyway.

There’s a security camera in front of the door you leave from. You make sure to give it a little wave on your way out.

Eddie holds your hand the entire way back to his van, opening the door for you like a total gentleman. It’s not the passenger side door, though, but rather the one in the very back.

“What are you doing?” you wonder, all innocent like you still don’t have the taste of his cum in your mouth.

Eddie just grins at you, lopsided and pink and boyish. “Gotta return the favor, don’t I?”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti #event: fictober!

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spdrwdw · 2 months

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hi! I saw ur post abt accidentally deleting reqs and was scared since mine wasn’t answered yet (im not complaining bc ur other work is so so delicious to read 😍) anyways here it is. Ok imagine Miguel ohara being the heir to the mafia ‘throne(?)’ ima be so fr idk what they call it 💀 anyways and he’s in an arranged marriage w/ a girl from a diff mafia family as a way to make peace between the two families, except neither he or the girl are happy abt it. Enemies to lovers would just be majestic for the plot in my opinion 🤭. Anywaysssss thank u sm and remember to drink water 🫶🏻

Art by: Kimmy_art0912 Pairing: Mob Boss Miguel x Wife reader Warnings: Mentions of blood, very mild violence, no use of y/n Summary: You and Miguel come from different mafia families, forced to be married in order to form an alliance as threat from an outside. However, you and Miguel can only tolerate each other, at best. A/N: I swear I scratched and rewrote this like five different times.I am sorry it took so long. I am slowly making my way back into writing. I do thank anon and everyone else for their patience as I slowly make my way back to life and I will be writing more Miguel fics soon. I may do a part two to this, depending on interest recieved. I have been getting into mafia books so I am going to be looking into those for inspo if I do make more parts to this. Also, very very light editing was done. Word Count: 4.6k

Your family and the O’Hara’s have been enemies since your ancestors set foot into this country. Both immigrating from nothing but the clothes on their backs and pennies to their name.

Your family started working in the food industry. Working in restaurants, bakeries, etc. Anything that had to do with food. Seven days a week. Working from twelve to fourteen hour shifts just to make ends meet. Your great great grandfather worked at the local deli as well as a restaurant. When he wasn’t cutting up meat, he was in the kitchen making food. Your great great grandmother worked at the neighborhood bakery as well as the tailors. Her dream was to make clothes- dresses. She wanted to be a fashion designer. She started taking classes at the local college once they saved up enough money to invest in her studies.

Eventually, with their hard work and sacrifices, their dreams came true. Your family soon owned several restaurants as well as luxury boutiques. Everyone did their part in keeping the family businesses growing and going.

At first, it was all simply honest work. Your family stayed humble and grateful for their dedication. Then, with your great grandfather, things took a slight turn. He wanted to expand and turn into construction. Nueva York continued to go and grow, with more people coming to try to make a living and a name for themselves. And in that mix, people with bad intentions also tagged along. The family businesses were in jeopardy of being taken over or shut down completely by these power-hungry thugs. He did not want that. So, he and the rest of the family banded together and began hiring people who would be willing to work for them and protect them, whether they were military vets, criminals, or even cops. Anyone who was willing to protect the family.

Allyship with other mafia families also aided in the growth and protection. However, there was one family that yours always butted heads with.

The O’Haras. They immigrated from Ireland around the same time your great great grandparents did. They built their own businesses, casinos, hotels, and clubs- and wanted their own power and a spot with the elites of the criminal world.

At first, things were neutral between the two families. At one point, the two families were almost allies. However, one night, there was commotion going on at one of the O’Hara nightclubs. Members of your family got into a tussle with the O’Hara group and ended up being a blood bath, with both sides losing men.

Ever since then, things were tense, and the bloodshed continued to grow as oppositions rose.

No one really knew what it was that started the feud that night. Some suspected it had been over a woman. Others thought it was simply because some members were drunk and careless words were exchanged.

Either way, the rivalry continued on. Until a new threat entered the city. And there was no choice but to come together.

—

It’s been six months since you moved into his house. Six months since you lost your freedom. Six months since you got married. To Miguel O’Hara.

It all happened in an instant. First, you were out abroad, having recently gotten your first major job as a fashion designer in a luxury clothing company, wanting to be as successful as your great great grandmother, and now you were out on a little vacation to celebrate, when you received a call from your father, ordering you to come back home.

You should’ve relished that Mediterranean breeze as long as you could, because once you got on that flight back home, your world was about to be flipped on its head.

“I’m sorry…WHAT?!” You screeched at your father, you only looked at you with his calm, cool, distant, expression as he inhaled into his cigar.

“You’re getting married to Miguel O’Hara,” he repeated.

“I heard what you said! But, why?!”

“The O’Haras had agreed to a truce. Kingpin is gaining on both of our families. We are losing men and traction left and right. We agreed by aligning our families together, we will gain strength in numbers and influence.”

“And you are shipping me off into an arranged marriage! This isn’t the medieval age or whatever!

Plus, with Miguel?! At least have me marry Gabriel. He’s not an asshole like his brother.”

“Miguel is to become head of the O’Hara family as he is the first born. Plus, his determination has been promising.”

You let out a groan. You could not believe this was happening. You never wanted to get sucked into this life. That’s why you went off to college. To try to get away and make a life of your own. Your efforts were proven to be futile as you felt the rug be pulled from under you and you were being dragged along with it to the same life you were trying to escape.

Your father’s eyes softened. A hint of sorrow filled them.

“I know, sweetheart. This isn’t what I was hoping for you, either. But, it is the only way. We are running out of options. I am sure Miguel will take care of you, and you will be able to fulfill your dream of following your great great grandmother’s footsteps. I am sure she would be proud to have someone actively expanding her fashion legacy..”

You still shook your head. It was just too much for you to take in. Plus, wasn’t Miguel in a relationship with someone? Xina? No..they broke up months ago. That’s right. But, wait..he was seeing someone else? Ugh. The guy has a new girlfriend every other day.

Besides, you two did have a thing going on in the past. It wasn’t serious. Mainly the occasional hookups. You two were of rivaling families, after all. You both did have your reasons for disliking each other. So, the sex was pretty much hate sex? If that made sense. It wasn’t out of passion. Unless you could call hatred a passion.

Never did you think you’d actually be getting married to him.

After the news broke out that you and Miguel were to be wedded, everything went by in such a blur. Preparations for the wedding. The actual wedding. The honeymoon- which was hardly a honeymoon because neither of you actually spent any time together. It was just too awkward, and you knew that he wasn’t happy with this arrangement as much as you were.

When you first moved into his house, you wanted to sleep in a separate room from him, and he agreed. However, when both of your parents found out about this, they were all livid.

“How will you two get to know each other more and become intimate with each other if you are sleeping in separate beds?” Your mom cried one day when she came to visit you. You assured her there would be other situations where you and your husband would bond. Public situations where you’d be surrounded by other people and talking to those people rather than each other.

You two simply avoided each other as much as possible. And during the times when you two were together, your company was either met with silence or bickering. And sometimes even being at each other’s throats.

He would call you names like ‘immature’ ‘wild’ ‘rowdy’ and so on, simply because you refused to listen to him whenever he demanded something from you.

You’d retaliate and tell him that he was controlling and a perfectionist. Because well, he was. He had to have things done a certain way or it would ensue chaos. And while he was right about you being a little more rowdy and wild, it was simply because you had the luxury of growing somewhat more normal. Your parents did not drill the life of the mafia into your head the same way it was drilled into Miguel’s. Which is why you both clashed when trying to communicate with each other.

Right now, you were at home in the library. You spend a lot of time there, and while Miguel’s taste in reading wasn’t usually to your taste, you’d sometimes find yourself reading some of the novels that he was currently reading, as well as reading some that you’ve been purchasing and adding to the collection.

Which reminded you, you had to head over to the mall and purchase the next book of a spicy romance series you’d been reading. As well as look for an outfit to wear at the next charity event you and Miguel would be attending.

One of the few things you liked about Miguel was that he was very generous and active in the community, helping those less fortunate.

Placing the book down, you rubbed your bag and keys and decided to head out for a bit. Saying goodbye to the house staff as you walked past them, you made your way to the garage, which housed Miguel’s collection of cars, ranging from vintage to sporty and modern to big black suvs that you’d use whenever a bodyguard was transporting you somewhere, like parties. You never understood why someone needed so many cars but, whatever, as long as it wasn’t your money being spent.

You made your way over to your car, glad that you were able to bring it with you when you got married. It was your baby. One of the few things you were able to bring with you.

Glancing over at the clock on the dashboard, you bit your bottom lip. You should have enough time to purchase some books before heading off to your parents for a bit. You did promise them you would show up. They were planning lunch for you. It was your birthday today, after all.

—

Miguel stood in front of the battered man that kneeled before him, hearing the groaning of pain coming from their mouth as blood pooled around the cement floor.

Miguel’s knuckles were bleeding. But, it wasn’t his own blood, but the blood of the poor bastard that withered before him. Miguel didn’t like to use violence. He thought it was a primitive way of negotiating with his enemies. However, there were times when a little violence was necessary to get his point across. And to send a message.

Why was this man being battered like a sack of potatoes?

The man spat blood, a tooth or two flying out with the glob of blood as he remained strapped to his chair. His face was covered in blood. Beat up and mangled by the hands of the tall, brooding man before him.

Miguel slowly knelt down before the man, taking a fistful of his hair, forcing him to look up into his almost amber eyes.

“ Eres un demonio! (You're a demon). Not even the devil himself will want you!” the man spat, a glob of blood landing on Miguel’s cheek.

Miguel let out a hum of disinterest. His eyes lacked any life in them. However, this was when he felt the most alive, seeing his enemies cowering and crumbling before him.

He took out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned the blood from his cheek before tossing the now soiled material at the man’s feet.

“I take that as a compliment, you know. Maybe I want the devil himself to fear me.”

Miguel took out a cigar from his coat pocket and lit it before giving it a deep inhale and exhaled a heavy cloud of smoke at the man’s face. He couldn't believe that one of Kingpin's goons had infiltrated his circle and posed himself as someone who could've been trusted. Miguel was definitely going to send that fat son of a bitch a message, by killing this guy and sending his corpse back to Kingpin's front door.

Not only that, but it also meant that they were going to have to redo background checks on everyone working for the O’Haras. That was going to be a pain in the ass.

"Gabriel! Hand me my gun," Miguel called out to his brother.

Gabriel, Peter, and Ben were all standing several feet behind Miguel, all watching as their boss beat and battered the man before them.

Gabriel was Miguel’s right hand now that their father had stepped down as head of the O’Hara family. Many thought Gabriel was going to take charge, however, Miguel was much more brutal and cut-throat than Gabriel. It made sense for Miguel to take up the mantle, despite him being an illegitimate son.

Plus, Gabriel preferred being on the sidelines instead of making the decisions.

Gabriel made his way over to his older brother, handing him the gun before stepping back to his original spot.

“Now. We can do this the easy way. Where I ask you a couple of questions and answer them. Or, we can do this the hard way, when I ask you said questions and if you refuse to answer them, I get to shoot you anywhere I want.”

”I would rather you just shoot me! I will never answer to you!” The man croaked.

“You never got shot before, have you?” Miguel hummed as he removed the safety from the gun and cocked it before pulling the trigger, shooting the man on the foot.

The man let out a screeching howl as he thrashed on the chair, letting out a series of curses.

Miguel simply nodded his head. “That’s what I thought. So..shall we begin?”

The whole ordeal took only a matter of minutes, as Miguel wasted no time in trying to get his questions answered. The man was not sitting lifeless on the chair as bullet holes decorated his body.

Kingpin had sent a lower ranked grunt to spy on them, trying to scope up any valuable information to report back to his true boss. Unfortunately for Kingpin, those in the lower ranks didn’t really get to be part of the action and behind-closed door discussions, so, this man’s life was unnecessarily wasted.

“Send his body back to Kingpin. Just leave him on his doorstep,” Miguel said as he examined his suit, letting out a grunt when he saw small splatters of blood. He was going to have to go home and change. “Will do. You should start heading back home. I am sure you wife is waiting for you,” Gabriel said as Peter and Ben began placing the body into a black body bag and carried him out to the waiting pick-up truck.

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t hate you, but he knew that you hated him. And you had every right. You got married to him out of force, and while that wasn’t necessarily his fault, he didn’t blame you for holding a grudge on him.

“Keep me posted on any activity. I need updated background checks on everyone working for us. We can’t let anyone else slip through the cracks,” Miguel stated as he made his way over to his car, with his brother following behind him. Gabriel nodded his head as he watched his brother leave.

He had to make sure no on in his inner circle was actually working for Kingpin. Is someone indeed was, might as well just shut everything down then and there.

No. Miguel wouldn’t give up just like that. He would just have to work harder and steer Kingpin off track.

But, for the time being, his main goal was to get back home and get to his wife. It was your birthday, after all.

–

You spent the majority of the day with your parents. You had gone over to your former home- which you still miss deeply. It was such a stark contrast from where you lived now. There was just so much character, so much history in this house. It was the same house your great great grandfather had bought as a gift to his lovely wife, your great great grandmother, once their businesses were booming.

It had twelve bedrooms and sixteen bathrooms. A library where your mother would take you to read. When you were young, you’d pick out a book for your mother to read to you in bed. Mainly a fairy tale story.

You always thought your life would be a fairy tale. You always imagined yourself as the princess or heroine, going on adventures and falling in love. However, the universe was not like those in the stories. Maybe in an alternate universe. But, not in this one.

Instead, you were forced to marry the enemy in hopes of forming an alliance. Which, depending on how you looked at it, could’ve been seen as a fairytale. It didn’t feel like it. You weren’t in love with Miguel. You tolerated each other at best. Plus, you guys had shared history which made things pretty awkward at times.

—-

You were back home, waiting for your darling husband to come home and wish you a Happy Birthday. He also supposedly promised to take you out to dinner. It was really an attempt for you two to get somewhat closer together. But, you weren’t sure how well that would play out. You both liked to push each other’s buttons. You were sure it would occur tonight. And honestly, you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. You wanted to be a thorn on his side. He was always so full of himself. Always thought himself to be this bigshot. Untouchable. Unweavered. You loved proving him wrong.

You continued to wait and wait. The house staff had left for the night, including Miss Cheryl, your personally favorite housekeeper. She was an older woman, possibly in her mid-fifties. You never cared to ask her- mainly because you didn’t want to be rude and you actually liked her.

Looking up at the clock in Miguel’s office, you saw that it was already seven thirty in the evening. Reservations were supposedly made for eight. Miguel had thirty minutes to get there.

A part of you didn’t really care if he had forgotten or just waved it off. You didn’t want to force yourself to be nice with him, because who knew, you might just throw a glass of wine at him just as you did during your wedding reception.

You could hear a chime coming from the Alexa that rested on Miguel’s desk, signaling that someone had entered the house.

Finally. You honestly thought he wasn’t going to come.

Raising from his chair, you decided to go ahead and greet your husband.

He was making his way upstairs as you made your way down the hallway, both of you making eye contact.

“You’re late. I thought you weren’t going to come,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

As Miguel stepped closer, you could notice blood splattered on his white shirt.

“I know. Let me get changed real quick,” he replied as he walked past you.

You knew Miguel had a way of dealing with those who wronged him. You have seen his blood-stained knuckles, bloodied shirts and a dangerous look in his eyes. It’s pretty much like in the movies. Some poor unlucky soul gets tortured to death by the boss or someone higher up. You’d like to think that Miguel isn’t simply killing people just because of blood-lust. While it wasn’t your business to judge, you didn’t want to be married to someone who is a little too eager to get blood on his hands.

You made your way to his room, standing by the door as you watched Miguel slip on a fresh pair of pants and button-up shirt, something more suitable for dinner. Once he was finished, he took another look at you, furrowing his brows a bit.

“What?” You questioned.

“What are you wearing?”

“What do you mean ‘what are you wearing’?” You asked, looking down at your dress.

“Don’t you think that’s too revealing?” He asked.

“What? Revealing? Where? Don’t tell me showing a little leg and shoulder is prohibited. Come on! This is the height of fashion right now, as well as demonstrating body positivity.” Miguel simply gave you a look as if in disgust. Not for the body positivity part. But rather your fashion choices. He was aware of your family’s success in the fashion industry. He even applauded it. But, he was also a man with much simpler tastes. Tastes that you would sometimes groan over.

“Well, I’m not changing, so let’s just get going,” you said as you grabbed a shawl to compliment your dress, and to shut Miguel up.

The ride to the restaurant was quiet, save for the music that was playing on the radio. You two had very different music tastes. Not surprising. Sometimes you’d change the station or hook up your phone to Bluetooth. But, you tried to sit back and let him listen to his music this time.

When you two managed to get there, Miguel stopped in front of the valet and got out. The valet driver in-waiting opened the car door for you to help you get out as Miguel rounded the car, handing the keys over to the young man who then took the sleek black suv to the parking garage.

He gave you his arm to take. It had become routine. Show some sort of display of affection while in public. You never knew who could be watching. Sometimes cameras would pop out in front of you two.

The proposal was rushed. The engagement. The wedding. People grew suspicious, and rightfully so. Your families quickly came up with a story of how you and Miguel were seeing each other in secret despite the rivalry of the families. The alleged secrecy of romance and hurried marriage gave you two the the title of Romeo and Juliet. Two star-crossed lovers who went against all odds just to be together despite your families and their differences. But, unlike the story, your ending didn’t result in a double-suicide, but rather acceptance, wedding bells, and peace between the two families. Everyone bought it. Well..almost everyone.

As you two made your way inside and were greeted by the hostess, you were taken to a more secluded area of the restaurant. There, the table had been set up especially for you. A bottle of wine rested over a bed of ice, candles were lit on the table, as well as around the perimeter of your area. It would have been romantic, had you actually had romantic feelings for Miguel.

Still, he was a gentleman and he did go out of his way to reserve a nice place for you.

He pulled a chair out for you to sit and scooted you in before taking his seat across from you. The music from a live pianist in the main dining hall still reached your private area. Had it not been for them, the room would’ve been dead silent as you and Miguel silently looked through your menus.

“Can I pour you a glass of your wine?” A waitress asked onceshe approached your table. She was young. Tall and thin with big blue eyes and blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. And wearing way too much makeup. At least for your tastes.

You could see how she was looking at Miguel, batting her fake eyelashes. You thought they were either going to fall off or send her flying away. Either way, you simply rolled your eyes. You didn’t care if Miguel got hit on, but come on, at least not while you were right there to see.

“Yes, thank you,” Miguel said, giving her a charming smile. It made you roll our eyes again. Yes, he was being polite and all, but you could see right through him.

“Can I offer you both an appetizer to start?” She then asked, still looking over at Miguel.

Miguel then looked over to you, giving you a nod. “Would you like something to start with?”

”Yes, actually. Some bread for the table. they usually bring it out at the beginning,” you started. Which was true. You were just trying to be a little petty.

“And how about some crab cakes and a salad for the table?”

The waitress nodded her head, her smile now a straight line. So straight, you could swipe your card through it like a card reader.

“Yes, of course. I will put those in for you and bring you your bread,” she said before leaving the table.

You simply rolled your eyes once again as you settled back against your seat.

“How was lunch with your family?” Miguel then asked, trying to make conversation.

“It was fine,” you responded. Usually, your responses would be short, and Miguel wouldn’t entertain the topic further. You knew you should at least try to get along with him, giving that you are married and that you will be spending the rest of your life with him. You simply assumed that it just hadn’t kicked in yet. You were going to try, though.

One day.

“Ah, Mr. O’Hara! Mrs. O’Hara! A pleasure to see you two here tonight!” Someone behind you exclaimed. You could hear their heavy footsteps before turning around and seeing the owner and head chef of the restaurant. “Javier. A pleasure to see you,” Miguel said. “We were just celebrating my wife’s birthday.” “Ah! Of course! Happy birthday, Mrs. O’Hara. You look as stunning as ever,” Javier exclaimed. The man was five foot three, a mix of tan to sunburned skin, and all round. He kind of reminded you of the Pillsbury mascot. He looked so squishable and jolly.

“Actually, Javier. Would you mind me having a word with you, real quick?” Miguel then asked, scooted his chair back from the table and stood, easily towering over the man.

“O-oh! O-of cours! Of course! Come, come! Let’s step to the side,” Javier stated, now looking a little nervous as he led Miguel out of the room, leaving you alone.

All while Miguel was having his private conversation with Javier, the waitress came back with the bread and appetizers.

“We are going to need a couple of minutes,” you stated as she placed everything onto the tables.

“Of course! I’ll make my way back around in a few minutes,” the waitress said, giving you a tight-lipped smile.

You tried your best to not roll your eyes at her again as she left. Letting out a sigh, you decided to dig into the bread and appetizers. You sure weren’t going to wait for Miguel to come back to start eating. You never waited for him. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you knew you’d be waiting forever for him.

–

Soon enough, you were back home. You were still slightly curious about the conversation Miguel had with Chef Javier. But, you didn’t think you should press Miguel about it. Some things were meant to be kept in private. Besides, you wanted no part of this whole mafia stuff. It had stolen so much of your freedom already. You wanted to remain ignorant of what goes on behind closed doors as much as possible.

You both made your way upstairs, neither of you speaking as you made your way to your rooms for the night.

Tomorrow you were planning on heading over to the boutique. Your cousin was currently operating it and sometimes you’d go to help her out. It helped you get out of the house every once in a while. Plus, you were usually filled with inspiration when you were surrounded by your family’s clothing. You were still working on your portfolio to give out to various companies, in hopes they would hire you.

You were confident that they would. You were talented. Plus, you have your family’s name to back you up. Now, all you had to do was to make sure you get a good night’s rest so you could get up refreshed.

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o hara #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfic

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koenigsbleachedshirt · 7 months

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soo hiiii i saw ur requests r open for… könig….. and honestly i think ur cool sooo yep! :3

but anyway-

what r ur thoughts on König w his innocent lil wify afab reader??

like i just wanna know what u think he would do if his precious darling were just running around their shared space w nothin but his t-shirt n panties, smiling at him n kissin his cheeks n lips bc he’s “such an innocent sweetheart” WHEN IN REALITY HES THROBBING IN HIS PANTS AS WE SPEAK-

um anyway-

u don’t have to respond or anything, pook. just hope ur doing well and takin care of urself!! stay safe, love ya babe!! ::::3

Honestly, no, we NEED to talk about this!!!

It's not a full-on smut, but you can gladly come back for more babes <3

And im doing okay! Had a long day at work and all haha,, I hope you're good as well, love ya too xxx

He quietly watches from the couch as you shimmy around your apartment in such skimpy clothes. Nothing but his (way too big) shirt, and some panties. It didn't seem like you were trying to rile him up on purpose, no.... you were just being you; his cute, little spouse who he'd do absolutely anything for. And that thought alone is all you need.

You're aware that what you're wearing is provocative; not like you intended to tease your giant of a husband, really. You were just doing casual things around the house, and when you were done, you spotted him on the couch. "Love, can you help me with the plates? I can't reach the top shelf..." You ask him, avoiding eye contact since your cupboards are higher than normal ones due to König's gigantic stature.

He rises and follows quietly behind, his eyes glued to your naked legs, watching as the shirt you're wearing rides up just enough for your butt to poke out. König could feel the blood rush to his cock at the sight, moving closer and trapping you against the counter. You turn around, looking up at his face, which you so deeply adore and flash a smile.

He bends down to capture your lips in a kind of rough but passionate kiss that leaves you breathless and hot and bothered at the same time. "What are you doing?" You whine a little when he lifts you on top of the counter, slightly shivering when the cool wood makes contact with your warm legs.

"You made me so fucking hard.... walking around like you're easy... aber nur für mich, nicht wahr?" (But only for me, right?) König says, lips millimeters away from yours. The way he says it got you feeling butterflies.

"Yes, only for you." Is all you can mutter before he delves in, his kisses all tongue and teeth, and you wouldn't have it any other way. You like when he's a little rough with you. "I'm sorry for riling you up... I didn't think anything of it..."

"Oh, ich weiß, mein kleines Schätzchen. I'll teach you what you're getting yourself into for the next time." (Oh, I know my little darling) He smirks before effortlessly throwing you over his shoulder, one hand smacking your ass. Hard.

You're in for a long night, dear.

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #konig smut #konig x reader #könig smut #könig x reader #konig mw2 #könig mw2

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ohimsummer · 2 months

Note

omg so. idk if you keep getting these ads all over snapchat and stuff like i have, but i keep seeing those ads for these lil thongs that have ur man’s name along the back. and every time i see them, my FIRST thought is imagine wearing those for satoru or suguru lmao

— minors dni, geto x afab! reader, pet names (sugar, darling), light degradation, suguru possession kink going brrrr, mentions of biting/marking/creampie, established relationship :3

⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ i went w/ suguru bc i like writing about speedrunning through breaking that man’s composure 🤭 and also satoru’s was sounding repetitive but I think HE’D buy them for you to begin with😭

“darling, have you seen my–“

the question is a dying ember in suguru’s throat, and his silence prompts your curious gaze at him through the reflection. you’re tilted over his bathroom sink to get a closer look at yourself in the mirror, finishing up your nightly routine.

“seen your what, sugar?”

your boyfriend doesn’t answer the question. instead he eyes the bottom of your ass that peeks out from beneath your (his) shirt. surely you haven’t been prancing your pretty self around his apartment in just a shirt?

his hand approaches the hem of the top. “uhm, what are you–“ and you squeak out an ‘oop!’ as geto lifts the fabric to expose your behind. a huff seeps from your lips, faux annoyance as you massage face wash into your cheeks. “jeez, babe, at least take me to dinner, first.”

after getting no response, you prod at him further. “okay, suguru, i know the view back there is amazing but for real, what did you come in here for again?” still no answer. you pout at him through the mirror, though geto never sees your expression as his eyes are tangled in the words branded on your underwear.

‘why are you wearing these?’

‘where did you get them?’

‘you’re teasing me with this, aren’t you?’

all questions that die on his tongue, because how could he possibly get his thoughts together with all this blood rushing to the wrong head?

“oh, do you like my new thong? ordered it online, just for you.”

and god, you and that playful taunt, wiggling your ass as you giggle so nonchalantly. like this sexy little thong with suguru’s name on the band isn’t sending all his composure straight out the window. fist balled up in the t-shirt, it’s taking everything in him not to rip these damned panties off you. no, no, he needed them perfect and intact for the pictures he wanted to take later, after he’s done stuffing your slutty ass with cock and cum and painting your pussy white.

“you do these things just to get a rise out of me, don’t you?” geto finally sighs, pulling at the thin excuse for underwear right where his title resides; he tugs it back, gets a good eyeful of his name and it almost makes his brain go haywire. it elicits the same feeling as when he sees day-old hickeys on your neck—a ‘she’s mine’ so everyone knows the most gorgeous girl in the world is already spoken for. geto loves showing off that you’re his in all kinds of ways: you in his clothes, with his teeth indentations on your body, or bruises from his lips, hands clutching at your hips or an arm around your waist.

“suguru,” you set down your towel, face fully dry and you back up to press yourself against his front. “i’ve no idea what you’re on about.” your giggles and the knowing grin on your face say otherwise. “but i’m assuming you do like them, yeah? it’s like our own little secret.” and you grind your ass against the growing bulge in his pants, just a little something to send his heart racing even faster.

and, oh, he likes them alright. anything that says you’re his and suguru’s down for it. and if that includes having his cum drooling from every hole in your body, so be it.

tagz: @anthoosies

#geto x reader #geto suguru smut #suguru geto drabble #jjk imagine #suguru geto imagine #jjk x reader #suguru x reader #Jjk drabble #.𖥔 summy answerz .ᐟ ๋࣭ ⭑#⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ summy is thinking . . . ｡⋆#anon! ‎♡‧₊˚

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morgandoesstuffsig · 10 months

Note

Idk if ur requests are open, but hear me out XD. A creator!reader who descends on Teyvat meets all the Archons and such. Then up and leaves by changing their appearance in order to explore their creation and how it has changed. Every once in a while Creator will make themselves obvious by performing acts only the Creator could. Once they are found out they just up and leave again only to resurface after another Divine act. TLDR: Creator playing cat and mouse with Teyvat

oh my GOD creator is just TORTURING then atp

small ramble because i still have massive writers block [cries] also ignore how late this is pls ok mwamwa thnx

c.w // yan. chars

song : Best Friend - Rex Orange County

SAGAU INCOMING : YAN CHARS.

okay so you decided 'hey man, what if i wasn't worshipped the moment i stepped outside'

so you just said fuck it and shifted

(it's been a while since you've done so, it kind of felt weird and hurt a tiny bit)

walking around teyvat in an odd, different form. completely different hair, height, clothes, you get the gist

the only things you couldnt change however were three things:

your blood (still gold, but you didn't plan on bleeding infront of anyone)

your aura (still comforting, caring, and even alluring)

your voice (why? zero clue.)

escaping the throne room you've oh so sadly been bound to!! having fun while doing it!!

(the only real reason you managed to escape is bc you managed to get the archons out and actually tend to their nations, as per your request order)

messing around while escaping fr!! people passing by wondering why this random person they've never seen is (not very) sneakily running away from the creator's palace/temple

but eventually shrugging it off, albeit reluctantly

messing around in mondstat, playing with the npc children more than you could usually, giving them the time of their life!!

this is where you use your first creator powers >:3

some poor kid scraped his knee real hard on the bridge, let's say timmie (hes so sweet he just wants to defend his birds pls b nice to him!!)

you, being the belovent god you are, use your divine powers to heal him

whether you do it with the hc of having to use your own gold blood or just having special healing powers only creator has, you do it

however, your dumbass mind hadn't thought of the fact that Venti may have been watching this

new outlander person with a mysterious aura

and now he quickly learns its you :0!!

the archons had no clue you could shapeshift!! why wasnt this in the ancient scrolls??? did they just lose the ones that mentioned it???

venti immediately finds some weird wind way to tell the other archons

fucking loud mouth

speaking of which, ei is freaking. out.

she came back to just check on you in your throne room and youre just.

not there??

panics, almost goes to zhongli before she gets venti's message and calms down slightly

atp you've realize you've outed yourself

so after making sure timmie is find you quickly run off into the forest before venti can come after you and smother you (both physically and with questions)

forest reached, new mission : new form needed

this basically keeps happening, and it's a needed breath of fresh air for you

running to liyue looking like a normal person until you magically form a special medicine that was unheard of from your hand for an elder, sickly lady

running from liyue to sumeru and shifting into!! an animal!! a fox!! cat!! tiger!! dog!! bird!! any of the sort!!

only getting outed from sumeru after you accidentally spoke while in animal form and having to go over to inazuma as an unknown, traveling sailor!!

getting outed after that for your extremely familiar aura and voice (inazuma people are scarily observant towards strangers) and eventually getting shoved escorted back to your palace/temple

funny stories to tell

however, the archons wont be leaving your room for quite a while..

oh well, who says you don't have other stunts to pull?

#morgan.died : writes #x reader #genshin impact #requests open #genshin cult au #sagau #sagau x reader #genshin #self aware genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin rambles #rambles #various x reader

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moonlit-positivity · 2 months

Text

Lesser known effects of trauma that don't ever get acknowledged

Cw: mentions of csa, sa, despair, depression, & generally dark content that some may find hard to read. Please interact & read with care.

"bed rotting" (which I hear is gaining attention on TikTok these days) ie the process of becoming bedridden due to your body being stuck in freeze response (paralyzed w fear, too scared to move)

Needing to cut your hair bc it keeps getting matted down, because you can't shower or wash it or keep up with it anymore

Gaining weight (i gained over 200lbs in a year), losing all the clothes you once fit in, and feeling guilty when all you see everywhere all the time is fat shaming

Losing weight (and subsequently all your clothes start falling off 😭) eating disorders and struggling with body image

Existing off of God knows what at this point. Is that milk spoiled? Yeah but how many days is it spoiled? Mmm, nah, nevermind, I'll just eat air.

Losing track of time. Losing months to years of time because of extreme dissociation, fatigue, stress, and the inability to move

Brain & body "shut down" or go into sleep mode for long periods of time

Self hygiene becomes non existent. Showering? Brushing teeth? Changing clothes? Don't know her.

House cleaning becomes non existent. "If It's Not In The Vacinity, It's Not Getting Done."

Lying to everyone about what's going on because it's easier than telling the truth

Not being comfortable with having your pictures taken, go through a phase where you destroy any evidence you ever existed anywhere at all

Isolating & ghosting all ur friends periodically to make sure they're not gonna leave you (lol makes perfect sense, if you know you know)

Animal upkeep goes to shit. Litter box goes neglected for long periods of time.

Noise & light sensitivity goes haywire. Noise & light triggers get amplified especially once you start to feel any sense of "safety" and start decompressing. An alarm goes off, the stove beeps, the cat meows, anything that makes even the slightest noise in the foreground and you have a whole ass panic attack and find yourself in bed for the rest of the day

Agoraphobia. You never go outside ever again. Too much paranoia, too many eyes staring at you, too many reasons to panic and stay in bed

Life becomes so non existent that the only thing that matters is whatever you're currently doing to cope & survive. If you're addicted to something, well, it's a fucking miracle you even wake up anymore

Couch surfing and inevitable homelessness when people get tired of housing you. Having to confront the way society frames government assistance as "the lazy man's income" & hope disability goes through. Which it won't. Wait-lists out the ass, section 8 takes 5 years or more to kick in. Disability doesn't even go through bc they always deny the first time you apply. The process is littered with appeals and court dates and what the fuck, I can't even get out of bed. What the fuck. What the fuck.

Leaning into your despair because, despite what everyone on social media will shout at you about resilience and "not allowing yourself to fall into despair," they will never understand that concept that despair is there for a reason too. Youre looking at someone who was raped at 5 years old and youre telling them to "stay positive." Yeah okay.

The anger, the bitterness, the resentment at the world & everyone in it. The cold blooded urge for revenge & justice. Especially when there's nothing you can do about the fact that your abusers are still free to live and roam this world as they please.

Not being able to "talk about it." Not being able to "trust a safe space." That's bullshit. I was beat and abused my whole life, what the fuck you mean "safe space?" The absolute mind fuckery that you have to sit with and undo and learn the fact that they fucking lied to you. It is enough to kill you.

Everything you learn in therapy just pisses you off even more because why the fuck wasn't there someone there as a kid to teach you this shit???? Why the fuck do I have to learn this as an adult???? Where was this when I actually fucking needed it????

Nothing helps. Nothing soothes, because there is no soothing. There is only pain. It's like ripping your skin off.

Losing everything. Losing all your friends. Losing all your "cool status" points. Losing your reputation. Losing all the things that once brought you great joy and passion. There is nothing anymore. Pain and isolation and desolation and despair.

Learning that no one can relate. Except that's not entirely true at all. People can relate. It's just such a stigmatized topic that no one talks about it out loud, because no one else in society really gets it.

#recovery #ptsd #trauma #mental health #boundaries #healing #abuse #effects of abuse #childhood trauma #abusive parenting #abusive relationships #addictions #alcoholism #acoa #codependency #substance use

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syrupgirl · 1 year

Note

woah??? ur writing is legit so good??? may i please request a neteyam x human reader where the reader gets bullied a lot for being human and it’s just angsty fluff??? no rush at all, write if you want to!!

a/n: I feel so bad it took me so long to get to this💔tysm for ur compliments, darling. I hope you like it

i also wanna mention that none of this fic is not meant to hate on Neytiri in any way :’) personally i think she in completely justified in her feelings and hesitancies towards any and all humans. Reader is probably bummed out more bc they hold Neytiri in high regard and wanna be liked by her.

Transcend -Neteyam

The relationship you had with Neteyam made up part of who you were. Before your memory could serve you, nothing could seperate you from the eldest Sully child.

So close to the other that you felt like an extension of the other. You had your own notch that measured your height right next to his, you were there when he chose his Ilu, you were there when he completed his dream hunt, all of it. You had been by his side for all of it and the two of you wouldn’t have it either way.

But, no matter what, what you had with Neteyam would not change the relationships you had with other children for one specific reason, you were human. Of the same people who killed hundred upon thousands of Na’vi. No amount of friendship would change that.

And to some degree you had come to terms with that. You couldn’t change what you were so you focused on fighting for what you knew was right on the side of the people who taught you that in the first place.

You had come to terms with it, but there were days when those hushed words got to you.

Your morning had started off early, Neteyam shaking you awake shortly after eclipse had ended and snuck you out of the mountains, down into the ground. The two of you spent the morning running through shallow brooks and swinging off the highest branches of the trees. It made you feel like you were a child again, where you had done the exact same thing with the same boy until laughter left you breathless.

Now, you were back in the heart of the Hallelujah Mountains, each hauling your hunt in your shoulders.

“They’re back! They’re back!” You heard a little voice shout. Tuktirey.

Oh, how you loved that girl, you just wished you could wrap her up and carry her around with you always. Just days after her birth, you were obsessed with the baby; constantly asking Neytiri to hold her and look after her, taking her with you while you trekked with Neteyam through the forest floor.

The energy you poured over her was very much reciprocated, as Tuktuk loved you just as dearly. As soon as she learned to walk, she spent the days with you around toddling around after you and oh, it was just the sweetest thing.

“Little Tuktirey! Singing my praises as usual?”

The young one giggled in response and skipped over to you, her tail swishing behind her.

“No love for your brother, Tuk? You wound me!” Neteyam whined behind you. You laughed heartily when Tuktirey promptly ignored her big brother.

“What did you get today? Anything fancy?” She asked eagerly as she stood on her tiptoes, trying to peak at the carcass hauled.

With a huff, you and Neteyam dropped the bodies to the ground to be prepared.

“Nothing to fancy this time, sorry, Tuktuk.”

She pouted and wrapped her arms around your waist, smushing her face into your chest. You laughed again, placed your hands into her hair, and pinched her ears gently.

Tuk squealed and immediately ran away from you, probably to her other siblings. Probably Kiri.

“That is not fair, I’m her brother by blood, and she prefers you over me!” You rolled your eyes at Neteyam’s drama.

“Maybe if you were as cool as me, Neteyam, your sister would actually like you!” You sighed, putting on a fake high and mighty attitude.

“Hey- I am plenty cool!”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that, skxáwng.”

“By Eywa, why do I even keep you around at this point.”

You doubled over in laughter as Neteyam began to walk away, probably to alert his parents of his return.

Sighing contentedly, you wiped your eyes that had filled with happy tears from you uncontrollable giggles and unsheathed your knife to begin the processing of the meat.

“Can you teach me?” A little voice piped up beside you. Slightly startled, you glanced down and saw little Tuk had returned to your side, a hungry gleam in her eyes, a hunger to learn.

You tapped your chin in fake thought and scrunched up your face. “I don’t know…It might be a bit hard for you…”

“It won’t be hard! I’ve seen Lo’ak and Kiri do it heaps!” She sprung up and down on her toes. “Please? I’ll do whatever you say!”

“Okay, but you have to pay attention to everything I do, clear?”

“Yep!”

“-and then once you have wrapped the meat, you always make sure to return all the parts you won’t use back into Eywa.”

You were surprised Tuk has stuck around this long, listening to everything you had said with rabid attention just like she said she would.

It seemed like she was having a great time; trying her hardest to copy your actions to a T and not getting discouraged when they came out a little sloppy. She had been honest when she said she wanted to learn and you had this strange sense of pride that swelled in your chest.

“Tuk, where have you been?” The voice of Neytiri cut through your thoughts and you turned around to that direction.

Stalking towards you was a very frustrated looking Neytiri and you felt a lump of nerves settle in your chest.

The woman stopped behind her daughter and placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked defensive, like she was ready to fight or flee at a moment notice.

Neytiri didn’t even have to say any words, she just looked you up and down with widened eyes and puffs of air coming from her nose.

“Mama! Yn was showing me how to prepare the meat to be cooked and the…the skin to be…something-ed…” Oh dear, sweet Tuk. She was completely oblivious to the tension heavy stares that were being charged above her head and you wanted it to stay that way.

“Neytiri I apologise, I should have come to ask you first.“ You started and looked to your feet. Hoping that would show her that you didn’t want any trouble.

“You should have. You do not make decisions for my daughter.” She whispered before she gently took Tuk by the hand and walked away, supposedly back to their marui.

You felt a hot flush crawl up from your toes and all the way up to your face.

How embarrassed you felt in that moment. The last thing you had ever wanted to do was to overstep the boundaries made clear by Neytiri when it came to her children. You had no problems with them and understood why she had made them in the first place, but it didn’t make you feel any bit better about yourself when she reminded you that they were there and made to seperate you from her family.

A bit dazed, you crouched down next to one of the hides and hoisted it over your shoulder.

“Did you leave any for me?” Neteyam asked.

You jumped in fright, well you would have if you weren’t carrying such a heavy load in your shoulders.

Turning to him, you tried to release any tension you held in your face.

“I was going to, but Tuktuk wanted to learn so I used yours for that. Sorry.”

He smiled and bent down to pick up the reaming hide and came to stand next to you.

“That’s okay. It will stop her from pestering me to do it for her.”

You laughed a bit at that and the two of you started walking in the direction of the tanning tent.

“I saw that my mother spoke to you, what’d she say?” So he had seen that.

“She just came to get Tuk. Time escaped me, I didn’t realise how long it had been.” You reassured him. He hummed in response, believing your white lie.

Silence sat between you and Neteyam was the first to break it, “Do you think I will be able to convince Ni’awxtu to let me keep a whole skin?”

A refreshing shiver ran up your spine as you dropped your feet into the water, kicking them back and forth. The sun beamed though the foliage above, filtering into a bright green light.

Neteyam said he would be back in a minute, just going off to grab…something. Gosh, things just fell out of your head sometimes.

You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. If you concentrated hard enough, you could pretend that your face wasn’t shielded behind mask, that your exopack wasn’t weighing heavily on your back, that you could breath the Pandora air, fresh and unfiltered. Your brows furrow, and you try to bring yourself back to that peaceful place you were before. It always loomed in the back of your head.

It truly is a strange feeling to be brought up in a culture but still have such a clear divide. That divide isn’t a bad thing, but a thing nonetheless.

So caught up in your thoughts, you don’t hear the creeping of feet behind you, the squishing of leaves and breaking of branches.

You were suddenly, literally, yanked out of your own head and a hand reaches into your hair and pulls you back. Hard.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I hurt your precious little head? Can you still breath?” The words are far from genuine, delivered with an airy laugh to it. Clutching the back of your head, you turned around and looked up.

Behind you stood a few kids your age. Their faces were familiar but their names eluded you.

You steeled yourself. You weren’t afraid of these people. “What do you want from me?”

One of them snorts and hits his mate on the chest, encouraging her to laugh with him. She does and they share a snide chuckle. You narrowed your eyes at them and stood, still not matching their height but getting closer to it at least.

“Where is your guard, huh?” The girl asks as she stalks around you. She occasionally flicked and pulled at pieces of your clothing, including your exopack, which made your heart beat pick up more and more every time she brushed it.

“He is not my guard, I can protect myself.” You muttered.

“Even when you are so dependent on…this?”

In seconds, you felt your heart plummet to your toes.

Your exopack was suddenly ripped from your back and your mask along with it. On instinct you held the breath that was still left in your lungs, your shaking hands flew to your face. It was almost like you could feel as the blood drained from your cheeks and formed a tight ball of terror in your chest, heavy and terrifying.

The young na’vi laughed, guffawed really. As if you imminent suffocation was endlessly hilarious to them. The girl held your exopack in her hand. In her hands it looked worse for wear.

She gripped her stomach. “Not so high and mighty now?” She gasped between laughs.

“You can’t be that strong if you are so dependent on that machine to keep you alive, can you?” The boy laughed along with his friend.

Their words didn’t even make it to your brain. You entire focus was on the mask dangling uselessly in her hands. You looked up, locked eyes with the girl, and took a few steps forward.

Faster than you could blink, their laughter ceased and was replaced with their smirks again.

“Ah, ah, ah! You stay right there.” The girl tutted. “Or you won’t be getting this back anytime soon.”

Your eyes widened and your gestured to your chest and mouth. This ‘prank’ had gone too far and if you didn’t get that pack back fast- the thought just about bright tears to your eyes.

Ignoring their orders, you frantically rushed forward again and took a swing for the pack. You could feel the need to gasp for air rise; your time was running out.

“You stay in your place, tawtute” The boy snarled. He ducked behind you and looped his arms through the back of your elbows, holding you tight to his body.

You thrashed hard in his hold and clawed at any patch of skin you could reach but it was no use. He towered over you and easily trumped you in strength. At this point, you had as much hope as you did air in your lungs.

You could feel your chest burn and your heart pound. If you gave in and took a breath of the pandoran air, it would only end things faster.

By Eywa, this was such a pathetic way to die.

“Poor thing, do you want this back? Should I just give it to you?”

There was no point in answering, you just tried to plead as best as you could without words.

“Just breathe, man! C’mon just a little breath.” The boy behind you taunted.

They laughed and laughed and laughed. It bled into your ears.

Resigned to your fate, you stopped thrashing, closed your eyes, and let out the breath you had desperately been holding. And inhaled.

You probably looked like a fish out of water, gaping and gasping for a breath that wouldn’t come. The painful throb began in your temples racked up tenfold and the burning pain in your chest felt like an inferno. The teens behind you laughed and hollered and finally realised their grip on you.

Faintly, in the back of your mind, you heard the crack of your exopack hitting a rock nearby. Though, through your puffs and wheezes you could barely hair it anyway.

Your eyes fluttered and your jaw slackened. When did their jeers become so far away? And…had eclipse begun already? Delirious wonderings filled your head as your eyes rolled back into your head.

The first thing that returned to you was your hearing, and the first thing you heard was…begging? Albeit it was punctuated by a dreadful ringing.

It was like a whisper at first, almost like you had been plunged underwater. And whoever was on the surface was desperate to bring you back up again.

A hand slid behind your neck and lifted it slightly, slipping a strap over head. Something was pressed to your face and suddenly breathing came much easier.

As you came to you started gulping down the air and your eyes flitted open. Ah, so that was the source of the whisper-screams. You had completely forgotten about him. About Neteyam.

“-n? Yn?!” Since when were his hands on your face?

You had been rested on your back, head propped up against something hard and uncomfortable, and another exopack sat secured on your face. Confused, you brought a hand up and tapped the mask in question, not trusting your vocal chords.

Neteyam, however, looked far too frazzled to answer your questions plainly. He was sat beside you, knees in-line with your chest and his upper half leaning over you. The size difference between the two of you was apparent constantly but having him towered over you like this made you feel especially small.

“W-when I came back I couldn’t see you anywhere but then I saw your exopack on the ground,” He rambled. Concern creased his face and oh, how you wanted to smooth every wrinkle.

His rambles continued, “I ran into Norm on the w-way back and he said you forgot to grab your spare. So I grabbed it and you’re lucky I did!” You frowned; aren’t people supposed to be nice to you when you’ve hurt yourself? Why were you being scolded?

Neteyam must have noticed your pouty expressions because berating came to a halt.

“I was so worried about you…” His hand stroked your head and he frowned even harder. “What happened?”

As you recounted your story, you felt as tears welled up in your eyes once more. A dark shade settled in Neteyam’s eyes, his frown turned into a scowl.

You’re eased up against a stump of a tree and the boy takes your hand in both of hit firmly.

He looked into your eyes with a determination lit up in his.

“Yn, I swear to you that I will find who did this. They won’t go without punishment. I’ll have my dad see to it if I have to.” His fingers squeezed yours and your lips quirked despite yourself.

“I knew you would come and find me. Deep down, I knew you would.”

The resolute gleam in his eyes softened before he said, “I will always find you. No matter where you are, I will always get you back to me”.

a/n: I rushed the ending a lil but I just reallyyyy wanted this done 😍

The energy you poured over her was very much reciprocated, as Tuktuk loved you just as dearly

When she learned to walk, she spent the days with you around toddling around after you and oh, it was just the cutest thing.

“Little Tuktirey! Singing my praises as usual?”

The young one giggled in response and skipped over to you, her tail swishing behind her.

#avatar #avatar way of water #avatar fanfiction #avatar imagine #avatar 2 #neteyam #neteyam x reader #my mighty warrior <3 #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #neteyam imagine #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader

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ultr6violnce · 8 months

Text

oral nsfw hc's - jack thurlow <3

a/n ; i was gonna make a pt2 for my danny post the other day but i might do that either later or tmrw , so instead i have some lil hc's of jack giving head bc i need him and he's so bf so this is what i have for now , hope u enjoy 😜😜

𝗱𝗼𝗺!𝗷𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝘂𝗿𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝘅 𝘀𝘂𝗯!𝗳𝗲𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 !

warnings ; overstimulation , oral ( f recieving ) , blood kink , fingering , humiliation kink n' spit kink idrk??

he is such a dom when givin' head like oml. he will have u cryin' no shit fr.

he absolutely adores makin' u squirm. havin' his tongue buried so deep inside ur little cunt u can't even stay still , it's most likely the most adorable sight he's ever seen :( .

he is a complete whore for makin' u squirt omds. he will have his tongue lappin' at ur swollen abused clit , whilst his fingers are workin' so hard inside you , pressin' against your bladder any chance he gets just so he can have you squirt all over his pretty face .

he will do his best to makesure u can't move , makin' sure he's got u held down js to add to the torture , havin' u kick ur feet n' squirm ur body around til he lets go whilst his face is completely buried in ur thighs n' js eatin' ur cunt out like it's his last meal.

he will probably stuff ur mouth with ur own panties while he tongue fucks ur cunt so ur loud moans n' most likely screams will be muffled so no one can hear u .

although he probably would take them out js so he could humiliate u n' whoever lives next to u whores will know who u belong to .

he will not stop until you've came atleast five times , so to get that he'd most likely put a vibrator against ur clit whilst his tongue is buried so deep inside ur hole .

he is that much of a complete whore he will touch himself whilst he's eatin' u out , he can't have himself missin' out on all the pleasure to.

so when he's lappin' over ur cunt , he'll probably have his hands on ur thighs and his fingers would probably dig into your skin , drawin' a little bit of blood n' he'd lick it up once he's done w u :3 ( my fav my fav my fav )

he would be spittin' all over ur cunt left right and centre bruh , if he doesn't feel like ur wet enough ( why wouldn't u be , like excuse u?? ) he would make sure his spit lubes u up 100%.

he loves havin' u on all fours and eatin' ur cunt from the back , he thinks u look so cute w ur face down n' ass up :3

he's a big whore for hair pullin' , so whilst he's workin' & lappin' at ur cunt , he would really like u to like pull at his hair and play with it . also adds to his immense pleasure ^_^

he's extremely cocky n' will humiliate u any chance he gets , once again for his pleasure bc he loves how flustered it makes u :( !!

a/n ; i ended up gettin' lazy once again , but I hope this was good enough i was js watchin jack goes home and this idea popped into my head so i hope it's good , since im rlly tired n' i didn't think half of what i was puttin' made sense but oh well!! ily guys byeee <3 :3

#rory culkin #i ❤️ rory culkin #hes so cute #i need him so bad #jack goes home #i need him inside me #jack thurlow #i need him #smut

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bitchlessdino · 1 year

Note

so happy that i saw that ur recs r open bc for some reason i thought they were closed which was sad. bc i literally love ur writing and ur so good and making me feel like i’m actually in the situation you’re describing like ur my idol i swear. anyways i digress, could you please write me a smut with cheol? honestly any set up you want and any kinks you want. bc tbh anything you write i love no matter what it is. bless yo soul 🙏🙏🫶❤️

Pairing: seungcheol x afab!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 2k

tags: brief teacher!cheol, neighbor au, fwb au, lingerie (as well mentions of the destruction of it), rough sex, choking, doggy style, daddy kink, marking, oral (recieving and giving), spitting

Summary: Welcome to the five tip guide on being neighborly! We hope this helps you get on friendly terms with the people you see everyday!

author note: I shouldn't be anyone’s idol lol but thank you 🥺. I've done so much to this that you might get whiplash tbh

1. Always greet your neighbor

You glance back at him as he ruffles through his mail, likely looking for something urgent or maybe a new event flyer to pique any interest. You can see his eyes turn up in the corner, returning your gaze, a grin tugging his cheeks harder as he greets you with a simple, “Afternoon.”

“Good afternoon to you,” you greet back, you scanned his figure up and down, taking in his laid-back work attire. From the beige dress shirt untucked from his slacks to the usually smooth pressed tie dangling loosely from his neck, that is only possible after a long day at work, but how could that be? It was only 3 pm. “Short work day?”

“It was a parent teacher conference day. Kids left early, and we teachers talk to parents for a few hours then leave on the dot. How about you? Why are you home early?”

“Working from home today. Remembered to get mail. Got lucky that I got to see you.”

His ears perk up at the word. “Lucky? You got something to do with me?”

It’s funny how he could say that with a straight face.

You shake your head grinning. “No. Just nice to see one of my favorite neighbors.”

He chuckles, “Pleased to know I’m a favorite. KKuma misses you by the way.”

“Kkuma? Just Kkuma?” You ask with a raised brow, a Cheshire smile dangles off your face, tucking the bundle under your arm.

Your anticipation was evident on your face. Seungcheol could play this cleverly or like he always does: with a stupid smile on his face.

“Well,” he cheekily grins, pretending to shuffle through his mail, “not just Kkuma.”

You press your legs together in restraint, holding yourself back from taking a step further, knowing well there was plenty of time in the rest of your day. “I’ll see you ‘round, Cheol.”

“I’m betting on it.”

2. Always call ahead before visiting:

Seungcheol lingered on your mind for quite a while, picturing his bare broad shoulders facing you as he faced the sunrise from your fire escape, only wearing a pair of gray sweatpants. You hum at the internal image in delight, leaning on the kitchen counter in longing, wishing and dreaming it was replaced by something much warmer.

You immediately think to text him, ask him what his plans are with all that free time, and are waiting for the other line to respond, luckily sooner than you expected. The nickname you have for him pops up as well a timid smile on your face reading out his message:

Kkumas Daddy: no but I bet you have a few ideas

Your teeth meet your bottom lip with interest, thinking about what to type out. Your thumbs scale the bright screen across the keyboard before you could stop yourself. Blood rushing to heat your cheeks and hitting send almost too soon, not even worrying about the possible typos you made.

You: maybe I do. I could tell you unless you want me to show you

You shut your eyes, clutching the electronic device, quietly praying that you read the room right. It’s a few seconds later, your phone plays a text tone and you open to read what he responds back with.

Kkumas Daddy: well I wouldnt be against it

You scrambled in your closet to pick out a pretty set, letting the straps tug against your body in a flattering way before snapping a few photos, picking out the best one, and sending it to him. You hands were practically shaking. It had been so long since you go to do this. You felt sexy, wanted, invigorated; all by the same man.

Seungcheol finds the notification immediately, throat running dry at how pretty you look in red lace, hand automatically falling to the erection in his sweats. He palms himself, thinking of fucking the daylights out of you, seeing the tears fall from your eyes when you scream how good he feels in you. He could get himself off just thinking about it. He struggles to respond with one hand, lightly relieving himself simultaneously.

Kkumas Daddy: You knew just what i want to see

Kkumas Daddy: You put that on just for me?

Kkumas Daddy: I hope you don’t mind me ripping it open to get to what’s underneath

Your arousal was practically pooling between your legs, having you clench around nothing, you think about him ruining you perfectly against your fresh sheets or face down on the kitchen counter. No matter how many pieces of lingerie you would go through, he’d rip it like disposables and you’d be split in half, practically shaking with the cum spilling out of you.

You: You better come over then before I decide on taking it off

Kkumas Daddy: Not without me you won’t

3. If you ask for a favor, like borrowing a cup of sugar, always thank them:

“T-thank you, daddy,” You barely utter as Seungcheol ruts you over the arm of your couch.

He did good on his word when he came over. In little to no time, he’s made himself home, closing the door behind him, attaching his lips to yours, and pulling off your cardigan to reveal the lingerie set he only saw in your messages. He’s groaning over your lips, curling a fist to the small of your back. “You’re body is fucking absurd in this. Shit.”

His hand traces your frame, brushing his fingers over your erect nipples through the lace covering them, and hoists you up to wrap your legs around his torso. Things only went up from there as his reliably strong build handles you like a rag doll and he takes you to the living room to fuck you open.

He holds you by your hair, ass in the air with help of the couch and he can barely hear your thanks through the violent sound of skin slapping and your vicious moisture. “You gotta be louder than that for me to hear you, pretty thing.”

You could hear the arrogant smile in his tone, as well as the breathlessness he exhibits. He manages to slow down his pace, teasing you to get your voice a chance, but the slippery suction of his cock going in and out of you still haunts your ears. “Thank you so much, daddy…you make me feel so full.”

He picks up his speed, squeezing the flesh of your cheeks in gratitude. “You like taking my cock? You’re so fucking good at it. Your little hole is practically perfect for taking it deep.”

“Yes!” You answer enthusiastically, nails digging into the scratchy tweed cushions. “It’s so…b-big and…f-fucks me…so good.”

He places a hand over your neck, pulling you up to have your bare back meet his bare chest, bottoming out inside you, and holding back your oxygen. Your eyes flutter at this sensation, hands gripping the couch arm desperately to ground yourself, vision blurring from lack of and you incessant tears. His tongue runs up the back of your neck, a slobber trail left on your skin before he’s sucking down the skin of your jaw, triggering something in you that made your body restless. You could feel your arousal drip so far past your knees.

“Fuck, daddy!” you cry out rather loudly, his warm chuckles tickling your skin soon after.

The pads of his fingers press deeper into the base of your neck. His teeth bit down on the patch of skin he caught and marking you a pretty darker shade. “Look, I just made you a little prettier.

4. Lend a hand when you can:

Seungcheol’s full length slides in your mouth and down your throat so effortlessly. He shut his eyes at the tight sensation and your drool dripping down his shaft until it reaches his lap. You bob your head, looking at him wide-eyed and needy; all signs pointing to your cock thirst. He groans watching your efforts, feeling himself hit the back of your throat euphorically.

“What a perfect little mouth. Does daddy taste good, baby?”

You moan a ‘yes,’ vibrating around his cock and his precum coating your tongue. Your lips hug around his girth, glossy and perfect, looking the prettiest sucking his dick. He thought about this all the time when he was alone, ecstatic to have it back.

“God,” He takes your hair in fists, “Your mouth is a dream…”

He pushes your head down in aid, moving you to his preferred pace, his hips thrusting in your mouth. The sound you make was nothing short of melodic. From the gag of your mouth to the slick moisture that echoed throughout the room, he felt like he could leave this world happy with your mouth full of his cum.

“S-shit.” He overexerts himself, pumping a hot load directly down your mouth and it leaks past your lips, dribbling down your chin like melted ice scream.

You pull him out of you with a gasp, coughing for air, half of the cum in your mouth swallowed down or trailing down your chest.

“Did I hurt you?” a brief look of concern washes over his face.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, smiling manically. “Yes, but I liked it.”

5.Make sure to leave a lasting good impression:

Seungcheol spits in his hands before running a finger down your slit, edging you with a tired grin on his face, your whines becoming his theme music. “Daddy please…”

“You’re so wet. My fingers got dirty so fast from you.” He pushes two digits in, making themselves him and adjusting the rhythm in which they move to see how loud you can really get. “Gotta push all this cum back in you. Can’t waste any of it, you know.”

Knuckles deep, he curls his fingers, thumb pressing into your clit in his intervals of rubbing. You squirm under his touch, crying out his name like a mantra, pushing the back of your head deep into the couch cushions. His face buries between your legs, spitting inside your hole, and letting his tongue join his fingers. It circles inside you, fucking you just as good as his fat length would. He lapped you up like liquid gold, blessing his mouth and throat with the pleasure of your climax.

You savor the experience, watching tufts of his hair flying all over the place, and his cheeks damp with the result of you cumming two or more times today. There wasn’t a better image you could think of replaying in your head after this is all over. “Daddy, your mouth…cumming…”

You warn him too late as it’s already gushing out of you, he smiles in your warm, no doubt staining your couch in all kinds of fluid. He picks himself up and kisses your lips, the reminisce of today sweet and salty on both your tongues. When Seungcheol parts from you, you could focus on hearing each other pants, the pounding in either one’s chest, and the warmth of his flushed and tired body as he envelopes you in an embrace, pulling you into his lap as he rests against the couch.

“That…” he gasps, “was fucking crazy. Why don’t we fuck like that anymore?”

You laugh through your nose, resting your head on the crook of his neck. “You were dating someone that wasn’t me.”

He sighs, eyes boring into the dim light of the common area, before slowly closing them shut, “Right.”

You twiddle with your fingers, their tingling sensation nagging at you to work up the nerve to finally say it. Your eyes sporadically blink both in fatigue and anxiety. You decide to embrace his broad back, exhaling through your nose in a calm breath.

“I was thinking. Maybe instead of, I don’t know, casual sex, we could…Cheol?”

He was long gone. His snores leave his nostrils as soon as air enters, tranced in a deep slumber. You sigh, bitterly gazing back at him and thinking about what’s never to come. But hey, at least you’re good neighbors. He’d never let you forget that.

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