#don't feel pressured to reply or anything

[imloyaltoscoups]

reckless plan | choi seungcheol MDNI +18

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As you and your friends stood outside the dimly lit bar, the vibrant buzz of the night enveloped you. You leaned against the brick wall, a few drinks deep, feeling the warmth of the alcohol coursing through your veins. Suddenly, a thought sparked in your mind, and without much filter, you began to vocalize it.

"Guys, hear me out on this okay?" you slurred slightly, gesturing emphatically with your hands, "I want my first time to be in a one night stand."

Your friends exchanged glances, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Whoa, slow down there," one of them chuckled nervously. "Isn't that a bit… reckless?"

You shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. "Maybe. But think about it. No strings attached, no pressure. Just pure, unadulterated fun."

Another friend chimed in, concern evident in their tone. "But what about safety? And you know...emotions?"

You waved their concerns away dismissively. "I'll be careful, don't cha worry. Plus, I have a condition."

Now thoroughly intrigued, your friends leaned in closer, awaiting your next revelation.

"I want it to be with a foreigner," you declared boldly. "Think about it. If it's with someone from another country, the chances of running into them again are slim to none. It's like a perfect one-time thing."

Your friends erupted into laughter, shaking their heads in disbelief. "You, my friend, have some wild fantasies."

But you remained undeterred, a glint of determination in your eyes. "Just watch. It'll happen, and it'll be amaziiing."

As you took a sip from your drink, swirling the liquid thoughtfully in your glass, you added another criterion to your list.

"He's gotta be handsome as fuck," you stated emphatically, punctuating your words with a decisive nod. "And taller than me obviously. Body can be anything, as long as he's got that irresistible charm."

Your friend couldn't help but interject, a mischievous glint in their eye. "But what if this handsome guy turns out to have… well, you know, a micro penis?"

You paused, considering the question for a moment before responding with a shrug and a playful smirk. "We can always find other ways to have fun, right? Inserting his small dick isn't the only option. Besides sex toys were made for a reason"

Your friends burst into laughter, shaking their head in disbelief. "You really do have it all planned out, don't you?"

You chuckled in response, raising your glass in a mock toast. "Hey, when it comes to giving away my virginity, I've gotta have some standards."

Your friend grinned, teasingly remarking, "So, looks is still important to you, huh?"

You simply grinned back, raising an eyebrow suggestively as you took another sip, leaving the question unanswered.

As the conversation flowed and the night wore on, one of your friends suddenly declared, she needed to head back to the hotel, her words slightly slurred, you couldn't help but groan in disappointment.

"But it's only 11 pm," you whined, feeling a bit betrayed by the early end to the night.

Your friend shot you a glare, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Gurl, we started drinking at 7 pm at the restaurant, remember?"

You blinked, trying to recall the earlier hours of the evening through the haze of alcohol. "Ohhh, right," you muttered sheepishly.

Your other friends chimed in, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, it's probably best to call it a night. We're not as young as we used to be," one of them remarked with a chuckle.

Feeling a twinge of sadness at the premature end to the evening, you couldn't resist teasing them. "Is this what being an adult feels like? Can't even hang out past midnight without feeling exhausted?"

They laughed, acknowledging the truth in your jest. "Guess so," one of them replied with a shrug. "We just don't have the same energy we did back in college."

As your friends continued to express their exhaustion, you interjected with a playful smile "You guys, we're on vacation!" you exclaimed, trying to inject a spark of enthusiasm into the conversation. "Getting tired is a big no no."

Your friends exchanged tired glances, but a hint of amusement flickered in their eyes at your insistence. "Yeah, but even on vacation, we need to pace ourselves," one of them reminded you gently.

You sighed, realizing the truth in their words, but still unwilling to let go of the excitement of the night. "I know, I know," you admitted reluctantly. "But can't we just pretend to have the energy like in our teens?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of their lips as they shook their heads affectionately. "Nice try, but reality calls," another friend replied, already starting to walk in the direction of the hotel you guys staying to.

As you all walked together, the glow of the streetlights casting a soft halo around your group, one of your friends piped up with a mischievous grin, "Hey, why don't you stay here? Who knows, you might just find that handsome foreigner you're looking to hook up with."

You paused, considering her words for a moment. Why not, indeed? The idea of finally shedding the weight of your virginity had been on your mind for years, and now, in your late twenties, perhaps this was the perfect opportunity.

With a determined nod, you made up your mind. "You know what? Yeah, I should stay" you replied, a spark of excitement igniting within you.

Your friend's eyes widened in mock shock before she quickly recovered, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. "Just make sure to use protection! We're not ready to be aunties yet!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with a mix of amusement and genuine concern.

You laughed, waving her off dismissively. "Stop worrying, I've got it covered", you turned around to your friends to head back to the bar, a sudden rush of nerves fluttered in your stomach.

As you walked back towards the place, lost in thoughts of anticipation and excitement, you suddenly collided with someone, jolting you out of your reverie. Startled, you looked up, and the first thing that crossed your mind was, "Deeym, this man is handsome af."

Your eyes met his, and in that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still. His features were chiseled, his gaze intense yet inviting. A rush of adrenaline coursed through you as you felt a magnetic pull towards him, a primal attraction that you couldn't ignore.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, caught in the intensity of the unexpected encounter. But then, a sheepish smile spread across his lips, revealing the subtle dimples that adorned his cheeks. He then extended a hand to help you regain your balance.

"Sorry about that," he said, his voice smooth and velvety. "Didn't see you there."

You managed to stammer out a response, your heart pounding in your chest. "No problem. My fault, really."

As you straightened yourself up, you couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter was somehow significant. Instead of heading inside the bar as originally planned, you decided to take a detour, you scanned the area for a quieter spot to gather your thoughts. Spotting a cozy bench nestled in a nearby alcove, you made your way over and settled onto it, relishing the moment of solitude.

Pulling out your phone, you quickly typed out a message to your friends, your fingers dancing across the screen as you recounted the unexpected encounter.

"guys, u won't believe what just happened! ran into the most handsome guy eveeer existed. keelll meee 😭" as you hit send.

Your phone began to buzzed with notifications from your friends, you eagerly opened the group chat to see their reactions. Their messages flooded in, filled with playful encouragement and teasing.

"MAKE A MOVE! NOW!!11!" one friend exclaimed, followed by a chorus of emojis and cheeky remarks.

You chuckled at their enthusiasm but couldn't help but feel a twinge of shyness creeping in. "im shy, u girls know that," you typed back, accompanied by a sheepish emoji.

Their response was swift and merciless. "Shy? Come on, You?! Where's that boldness you were talking about earlier?" another friend teased, their message punctuated by laughing emojis.

Feeling a mix of amusement and embarrassment, you shot back, "hey, flirting and making the first move are two different things! 🫠🫠"

But they weren't about to let you off the hook that easily. "true, but how do you expect to seal the deal if you're not even willing to make a move? go get that dick!🤪🥴💦🍆🍆" another friend quipped, their message followed by a string of emojis.

You couldn't help but laugh at their relentless teasing, knowing they only had your best interests at heart.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you fired off one last message to your friends. "just go to sleep, seniors. see ya tom 😘"

As you slipped your phone back into your pocket, you felt a presence beside you. Glancing up, you found the handsome stranger you bumped into earlier, standing before you, a can of beer in hand, and a tentative smile on his lips.

"Mind if I take a seat?" he asked, gesturing to the empty space beside you.

A surge of excitement washed over you as you nodded eagerly. "Be my guest."

As he settled onto the bench beside you, you couldn't help but steal a glance at his profile. Up close, he was even more striking, his features illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. His eyelashes, long and delicate, frame his eyes like curtains to a captivating show. His nose, perfectly proportioned, gives his face a distinct charm. And his lips, a soft shade of plum, seem almost inviting, teasing your mind with the thought of how they might feel against yours.

Before you could let your mind wander, you decided to mustered up the courage to strike up a conversation. "So, what brings you out here?"

You blinked in surprise at his straightforward response, momentarily taken aback by his boldness. But a spark of amusement danced in your eyes as you processed his words.

"A hook up, huh?" you replied with a playful smirk, trying to match his cheekiness. "Well, that's certainly... direct."

He chuckled softly, a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes as he took a leisurely sip of his beer. "Life's too short to beat around the bush, don't you think?"

His nonchalant attitude caught you off guard, but you couldn't deny the allure of his confidence. "I suppose you have a point," you conceded, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "But isn't it a bit risky, being so upfront about your intentions?"

He shrugged casually, his gaze meeting yours with a steady intensity. "Maybe. But sometimes, taking risks is the only way to get what you want."

As he took a leisurely sip of his beer, he leaned back against the bench, a casual demeanor masking the mischief in his eyes. "You know," he began, his tone casual yet tinged with intrigue, "I overheard a rather interesting conversation earlier."

Your eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of recognition dawning as you realized what he was alluding to. "Oh?" you replied, attempting to maintain your composure despite the sudden rush of embarrassment.

He grinned knowingly, his gaze locking with yours. "They were talking about this wild idea one of them had. Something about wanting to have a one night stand with a foreigner, just to lose their virginity," he teased lightly, his words sending a flush creeping up your cheeks.

Suddenly, he turned to you with a cheeky smile, offering you his drink. "Care for a sip?" he asked, his gaze playful yet intense.

Caught off guard by his boldness, you felt a rush of nerves coursing through you. But you couldn't resist the temptation, so you nodded and accepted the drink, taking a tentative sip.

As the cool liquid slid down your throat, you couldn't help but glance at the can, your voice barely above a whisper as you muttered, "Was I really that loud?"

As he continued the conversation, his tone playful yet probing, he raised an eyebrow in mock curiosity. "So, let me get this straight," he began, his gaze fixed on you. "You flew all the way out here just to lose your virginity?"

Your cheeks flushed crimson at his bold question, and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. "Well, it's not like it was the sole purpose of the trip," you hurriedly explained, attempting to downplay the situation. "More like… a bonus plan, you know? And I'm with my friends, so it's not like I'm flying solo or anything."

His lips curved into a knowing smirk as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Ah, I see. A little adventure on the side."

You couldn't help but feel a sense of relief at his understanding response, grateful that he didn't judge you for your candid admission. With a shy smile, you took another sip of the beer, savoring the moment.

Taking a deep breath, you shifted the conversation, handing his drink back to him with a playful smile. "So, if you're out here looking for a hookup, what brings you to this very spot?" you asked, curiosity lacing your words.

He accepted the drink with a grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Touché," he replied, taking a leisurely sip before meeting your gaze. "I guess I just needed a change of scenery. Figured I'd try my luck out here tonight."

His response intrigued you, prompting a surge of questions to bubble up inside you. "And has your luck been good so far?" you pressed, unable to resist the urge to tease him.

He chuckled, his laughter echoing in the night air. "Well, let's just say I've had worse nights," he replied cryptically, his smile widening.

Your heart raced as you entertained the bold idea swirling in your mind. Summoning your courage, you took a deep breath before speaking. "You know," you began tentatively, "why don't we cut to the chase? You're looking for a hookup, and I… well, I'm in the same boat. So, why don't we just… have sex?"

The words hung in the air between you, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of nervous anticipation. It was a daring proposition, but the logic seemed valid, two consenting adults with mutual desires, seeking a simple solution to satisfy their needs.

He regarded you with a mixture of surprise and intrigue, his gaze searching yours for a moment before a slow grin spread across his lips. "Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?" he replied, his voice laced with amusement.

Relief flooded through you as you realized he was on board with the idea. As he rose from his seat, a confident smile gracing his lips, he extended an invitation towards you. "Well then, why don't we take this somewhere more private?" he suggested, his voice low and inviting. "My place isn't too far from here."

You nodded, a thrill coursing through you at the prospect of what lay ahead. "Sure, why not?" you replied, a smirk playing on your lips.

As you walked side by side, he broke the silence, introducing himself as Seungcheol. You couldn't help but smile at the gesture, realizing that despite the hours of conversation, you had never exchanged names.

But when he turned to you, expecting your introduction, you simply shook your head, a hint of playfulness in your tone. "No need for names tonight," you said. "After all, this is just a one-time encounter. Why bother with formalities when we'll likely never see each other again?"

He grinned, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Fair enough," he conceded, his hand gesturing towards the direction of his place. "Let's just enjoy the night."

As you entered his house, you slipped off your shoes and followed Seungcheol further inside. The air was thick with anticipation, each step echoing the pulsing beat of your heart.

Casually, he glanced at you, breaking the silence. "So, have you had other forms of intimacy before?" he inquired, his voice low and probing.

You paused, considering his question before responding. "Just third base," you admitted, a hint of nervousness tinging your voice. "Nothing more."

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin playing on his lips. "Third base and no sex, huh? What were you waiting for?" he teased, his words laced with playful incredulity.

You bristled slightly at his teasing tone, a hint of defensiveness creeping into your voice. "I wasn't ready that time," you replied, your tone firm.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "And now you are?" he teased, his gaze lingering on you suggestively.

You met his gaze with determination. "I wouldn't offer you to fuck me if I wasn't ready, Seungcheol" you retorted, your tone tinged with conviction.

Seungcheol chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, that's true," he admitted, his tone light and teasing.

As he led you to his bedroom, you felt a surge of excitement coursing through you, the anticipation building with each step. Unabashed by his gaze, you decided to seize the moment, shedding your clothes with confidence.

He watched you undress, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed your boldness. "You really want to lose your virginity, huh?" he remarked, his tone teasing.

You met his gaze head-on, a cheeky grin spreading across your face. "Gonna make the most of it," you replied, your voice laced with playful determination.

Feeling the heat of the moment intensify, you closed the distance between you and Seungcheol, your hands sliding sensually over his shirt as you asked him, "Are you gonna leave me hanging?"

His eyes smoldered with lust as he met your gaze, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "Not a chance," he murmured huskily, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Now, lay down on the bed."

Obeying his command, you positioned yourself on the soft sheets, your heart pounding with excitement as you watched Seungcheol begin to undress. Each article of clothing fell away, revealing more of his toned physique, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of hunger coursing through you.

As he stood before you, completely exposed, you couldn't help but admire the sight of his body. Relief flooded through you as you realized he didn't have a small dick—on the contrary, it was quite big and thick, with prominent veins snaking along its length.

You gulped down nervously as you lay on the bed, feeling the weight of Seungcheol's gaze upon you. Thoughts raced through your mind as you contemplated whether his sizable member would fit inside you.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't realize that Seungcheol had noticed your hesitation until he spoke up, his tone teasing. "Backing down already?" he mocked, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

You bristled at his taunt, a surge of defiance rising within you. "Of course not," you replied, mustering up your courage. "Just... admiring the view."

His smirk widened at your response, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Well, don't take too long," he teased, his voice dripping with innuendo. "I'm not one to wait around."

As Seungcheol approached the bed, a mischievous glint in his eyes, you felt a surge of anticipation coursing through you. With a confident posture, he climbed onto the bed beside you, his gaze never leaving yours.

With a devilish grin, he leaned in close, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizing kiss. The kiss was slow and sensual, igniting a fire within you as you melted into his embrace.

Breaking the kiss, he trailed feather-light kisses along your jawline, down your neck, sending shivers of pleasure cascading down your spine. His hands explored every inch of your body, tracing patterns of desire along your skin.

His touch was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you as he teased and tantalized every nerve ending. His lips trailed lower, tracing a path of fire across your chest, pausing to lavish attention on your sensitive nipples, sending bolts of pleasure shooting through you.

You couldn't help but moan in response, your hands tangling in his hair as you urged him on. "Don't stop," you gasped, your voice laced with desire.

With a wicked grin, Seungcheol obeyed, his mouth continuing its journey southward, leaving a trail of hot kisses along your abdomen. He reached the apex of your thighs, his breath hot against your skin as he teased you with feather-light touches.

Your breath hitched in anticipation as he teased you, inching closer and closer to where you ached for his touch. "Please," you begged, your voice thick with need.

With a devilish smirk, he finally gave in to your pleas, his tongue flicking out to taste you, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body. As he delved deeper, exploring every crevice with expert precision.

A low moan escaped your lips as he found your most sensitive spots, his movements sending sparks of ecstasy dancing across your skin. You arched your back, urging him on, lost in the whirlwind of sensation that enveloped you.

Feeling emboldened by your response, Seungcheol shifted his focus, his fingers replacing his tongue as he delved deeper into your core. With each stroke, you felt yourself unraveling, your body responding eagerly to his expert touch.

Your hips began to move instinctively in response to the rhythmic motion of Seungcheol's fingers, each stroke sending bolts of pleasure coursing through your body. You moaned softly as the intensity of his touch heightened, your senses overwhelmed.

His tongue joined the fray, swirling and teasing your swollen clit with a tantalizing expertise. You gasped as the dual sensation sent shockwaves of pleasure radiating through every nerve ending, your back arching off the bed as you surrendered yourself completely to the overwhelming sensation.

As you reached waves of pleasure, you gradually let it subsided, Seungcheol's voice cut through the haze of bliss, his breath hot against your ear as he made his request. "Could you do the same for me?" he asked, his tone filled with desire.

You nodded eagerly, your own desire fueling your determination to bring him the same level of pleasure he had bestowed upon you. "Of course," you replied, a smile playing on your lips.

Kneeling down next to the bed, you positioned yourself as he instructed, your arms bracing yourself on either side of his hips. With a sense of anticipation coursing through you, you bent your arms at the elbows and leaned on them, balancing your body as you prepared to pleasure him.

Seungcheol lay back on the bed, his hips spread apart, his legs hanging off the edge. His gaze locked with yours, filled with a potent mix of lust and anticipation, as you prepared to take him to the heights of his own ecstasy.

With a steady hand and a sense of purpose, you began to lavish him with your touch, your lips and tongue exploring every inch of his throbbing length. With each flick and swirl, you could feel him tensing beneath you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as pleasure built within him.

Lost in the rhythm of your movements, you focused all your attention on bringing him pleasure, determined to repay him for the ecstasy he had given you. And as you felt him teetering on the brink of release, you redoubled your efforts, eager to send him over the edge into blissful oblivion.

And finally, with a guttural moan of pleasure, Seungcheol surrendered himself to the overwhelming sensation, his body trembling with ecstasy as he reached the peak of pleasure. And as he collapsed back onto the bed, spent and sated, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that you had brought him the same pleasure he had bestowed upon you.

As he released himself, his essence flooding your mouth. Without hesitation, you swallowed it eagerly, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.

A satisfied smile curved Seungcheol's lips as he brushed his thumb across your lips, collecting any lingering traces of his release. He brought his thumb to his own mouth, tasting himself with a low groan of pleasure.

"God, you're incredible," he murmured, his eyes smoldering with desire as he gazed at you.

His words sent a thrill of satisfaction through you, but as he reached for a condom, you stopped him with a gentle touch.

"Wait," you said softly, meeting his gaze with determination. "I want to do it raw. I'm on birth control, so it's fine."

A smile spread across his lips as he nodded, his eyes reflecting a mixture of desire and trust. "If that's what you want," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

Confidently, you positioned yourself on your back, anticipation coursing through your veins as Seungcheol hovered above you. But as he entered his length, you gasped in surprise, the sensation overwhelming you as you realized the full extent of his size. Tears welled in your eyes as you underestimated just how much you could handle. "Is it... all the way in?" you managed to ask, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Seungcheol responded with a low growl, his desire evident in the way he pressed himself deeper into you. "Not even halfway," he murmured, his voice husky with need.

Holding him tightly, you buried your face into his neck, the sheer size of him overwhelming you. "It's too big," you whimpered, your voice trembling with emotion. "Please... don't move."

Seungcheol could feel your distress, but he also felt a surge of pleasure as you embraced his cock. Despite his own arousal, he was quick to offer you comfort. "We can stop if it hurts too much," he reassured you, his voice tender and caring.

Shaking your head, you refused to give up, determined to see this through. "No," you whispered, your tears falling freely now. "Just... stay still for a moment."

As tears continued to fall down your cheeks, he gently kissed them away, his touch soothing against your skin. "Take a deep breath," he murmured softly, his lips brushing against yours.

Following his instruction, you took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself against the overwhelming wave of sensation. And as you gathered your courage, you whispered a request for him to move slowly.

He nodded in understanding, his movements becoming more measured as he began to thrust into you. Unable to bear the intensity of the moment, you instinctively covered your face with your hands, seeking refuge from the overwhelming sensations.

But Seungcheol was having none of it. With a determined growl, he took your hands and pinned them above your head, his gaze intense as he demanded your full attention.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice firm but gentle. "I want to see your face."

Meeting his gaze with a mixture of vulnerability and desire. As Seungcheol's thrusts grew rougher, the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you soared to new heights. You couldn't help but moan his name in ecstasy, your body responding eagerly to his every touch and word.

His dirty talk only fueled the flames of desire burning within you, sending shivers of pleasure racing down your spine. "Your pussy feels so good, baby," he growled, his voice laced with primal need. "Clamping down on my cock like that."

His words sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, and as he placed his lips onto you, devouring your insides with a hunger that matched your own, you whimpered in bliss.

With each thrust, he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, his movements becoming faster and more urgent as he chased his own release. And then, with a primal growl, he came inside you, filling you with his essence as you both collapsed in a heap of tangled limbs and ragged breaths.

As you caught your breath, savoring the aftershocks of pleasure coursing through your body, Seungcheol's voice broke through the haze.

"You haven't come yet," he accused, his tone teasing yet insistent.

Before you could respond, he swiftly turned you over, positioning you on all fours. Gripping your waist firmly, he pulled you closer to him, his hips moving with a primal urgency as he penetrated you deeply from behind.

The new position allowed him to penetrate you even more deeply, intensifying the pleasure as he thrust into you with a relentless rhythm. With each powerful movement, you felt the tremors of pleasure building within you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

As Seungcheol's hand found its way to your swollen clit, the sensation sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your body. With each thrust, his fingers worked magic on your sensitive bundle of nerves, intensifying the pleasure to dizzying heights.

"Seungcheol," you moaned, your voice a breathless plea as your body trembled with ecstasy. "You're hitting me so deep…"

His words only served to fuel the fire of lust within you, and you couldn't help but respond with desperate moans of pleasure. But as the intensity of his thrusts grew, so did the rawness of the experience, and soon tears began to fall from your eyes.

Despite the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you, there was a hint of pain mingling with it, a testament to the roughness of his touch. "Cheol," you whimpered, your voice choked with emotion. "It's… it's too much…"

But even as your tears fell, Seungcheol showed no signs of relenting, his thrusts growing even rougher as he continued to drive you towards the edge of oblivion. And as you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming sensation, you couldn't help but wonder if this was truly what sex was meant to be—raw, intense, and filled with a potent mix of pleasure and pain.

As Seungcheol felt your voice reverberating around him, a primal growl escaped his lips, driving him to new heights of arousal. With each moan and whimper that spilled from your lips, he felt his length growing even bigger inside you, stretching you to your limits.

"Fuck," he hissed through gritted teeth, the sensation driving him wild with desire. With each movement, he pinned your back against the bed, his hand pressing firmly against your skin as he continued to thrust into you with a relentless rhythm.

The combination of his rough touch and the overwhelming sensation of his length filling you completely sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Despite the intensity of the experience, you couldn't help but respond with desperate cries of pleasure, your body trembling with bliss beneath him.

As the overwhelming sensation consumed your body, you couldn't help but succumb to a second climax, waves of pleasure crashing over you in relentless waves. Your body quivered with ecstasy as you rode the wave of ecstasy, your cries of pleasure mingling with Seungcheol's primal groans as he followed you over the edge.

With a guttural moan, he collapsed on top of you, his body heavy with exhaustion as he caught his breath. Despite his weight pressing down on you, you welcomed the intimacy, relishing the feeling of his warm skin against yours.

He shifted to the side, spooning you from behind, his cock still buried deep inside you, you felt a surge of contentment wash over you. With each pulse of his cock, you could feel him releasing more of his seed, filling you with a sense of completeness that you had never experienced before.

Feeling the exhaustion creeping over you, you began to close your eyes, the events of the night still swirling in your mind. Seungcheol's voice broke through the silence, but you were too drained to respond. Sensing your fatigue, he simply hugged you tightly, closing his eyes as he drifted off into sleep.

The next morning, you were roused from sleep by the vibration of your phone on the nightstand. As you reached for it, you felt a strange sensation between your legs, and to your surprise, you discovered that Seungcheol's cock was still inside you. Trying to stifle a gasp, you carefully removed it, ensuring not to disturb him as he slept peacefully beside you.

Quietly fixing yourself up, you slipped out of his place and made your way back to the hotel. However, upon your return, you were greeted by the surprised faces of your friends, who presented you with a cake adorned with the words "I just had sex."

With a playful smile, you accepted their jests, but as you made your way towards your bed, exhaustion washing over you again. But before you could even settle in, your friends eagerly gathered around, shaking you with excitement, urging you to spill the details of your escapade with the handsome man.

As your friends gathered around, eager to hear the details of your night with Seungcheol, one of them expressed concern about your abrupt departure. "Did you even say goodbye?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry.

You shrugged nonchalantly, dismissing her concern. "It's a one night stand, that's how it works," you remarked, trying to downplay the situation. "You have sex, and then you're done. No need to linger."

Your friends exchanged uneasy glances, clearly feeling bad for Seungcheol, but you brushed off their concerns. "He was looking for sex too, remember? It's a win-win situation," you insisted, trying to convince yourself as much as them.

Despite your outward bravado, deep down, you couldn't help but question whether losing your virginity in a one night stand was truly the right decision. But as you pushed aside your doubts and buried yourself under the covers, you knew that the night's events had left an indelible mark on you—one that would linger long after the morning light had faded away.

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seungcheol

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[wordy-little-witch]

Hiiii i hope im not annoying u or anything w my frequent asks dksjzjzjz if so pls dont feel pressured to answer it, it do be tiring esp in this heat n economy 😬

i just saw another great post abt buggy having oblivious survival clown rizz and im like that victorian era boy with a bowl saying "pls sir" CUZ i need more of it😭🥹🤲🥣 i never knew i needed it but now my eyes are opened,,, so im guessing buggy has rizzed more than half of the entire pirate population and the landlubber population, but does dis also extend to the enemy/marines? 😳 also can i ask for more buggy accidental rizz headcanons n ideas? Actually any ideas u have r rly great, its extra dopamine or feels when u update lmao

thank u for replying to my questions🥹

Hiiiii~ don't worry about being annoying, love, I love hearing from you! Honestly, having asks makes me all fluttery and happy, it's like digital tumblr penpal friendship hehe~

As for Accidental Rizz Buggy, BABES I have TOO MANY THOUGHTS

On the Marine topic, ABSOLUTELY and I am LOSING IT over the mental image of Buggy having a fan club in the Navy and he just Doesn't Know.

I already ship Rosinante/Corazon and Buggy ANYWAY and so I am so down for pirate/marine ships bc it's so good ong-

Specifically speaking, I can see Buggy accidentally doing some accidental charming either by showing some of his rarely touched on moral ambiguity. Like. Dude does not subscribe to the general populace, he marches to his own drum and we love him for it. The world of One Piece has a recurring theme of Morally Gray and No Such Thing As Good Or Bad type of stuff. Especially with Pirates vs Marines.

So like. Imagine Buggy being involved in some sort of mad wild bullshit hunt/fight, he's escaping the Marines, he's cackling, making a show of it and between one taunt and the next, he catches sight of movement in an alley way.

Two pairs of eyes stare back, wide, terrified, and he freezes.

Immediately all fight and threat drains, and he turns to the alley. "Hey," he greets softly, not too gently but with care dripping from the vowels. "What are you brats doing out here, huh? It's dangerous."

The Marines try to cut in and Buggy disengages at best, forces them back at worst.

"Time and a place," he tells them, "change of plans, there's kids here. Time out, buddy."

He's soft with them, but not alarmingly so to their wild eyes. He recognizes the signs there, and he simply lets them choose their pace.

The officers there view a new side of a fierce pirate, one who would quail under a sharp look one moment and glare back, hissing in fury thr next to a commanding officer with two little ones to protect. He is multifaceted. He is complex. He is.....

Really pretty.

Uh oh.

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Bonus, Buggy absolutely accidentally charms the FUCK out of Sengoku, both in a CoraBug sense and in a non shipping sense. I feel like Buggy would annoy his way into being Sengoku's beloathed favorite. He's suffering through it all. Very much "unfortunately, I like you" type of deal.

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Buggy: does something surprising/cute/attractive/competent

The world: oh I guess I gotta kiss this muppet senseless

#sorry i'm eepy #witchy answers!! #i love the asks bb dw you're not annoying #ilysm!!!! #buggy the clown #buggy headcanons #one piece #buggy the rizz king #clown charismaTM

[stcnefruit]

— open starter.

status - open to all, but pls read my rules and mobile about (pinned post) first before interacting. don't like my starters. muse - vasti inaiê souza gonçalves, sculptor, potter and printmaker. bisexual, uses she/her pronouns. human, thirty. wanted opposites (in order of priority) - m/nb/f, 30+. mocs (muns/muses of color) preferred. wanted connections - literal strangers, an ex, fellow artist, someone they haven't seen since sixth grade, as long as they're a little richer than vasti is (and not related) go literally batsh*t plot - they're on their way to personally deliver one of their commissions but they haven't slept well in over 48 hours (they've slept enough to not get pulled over, they can drive) and really should have hired a truck or sent it through the post but hey they've done it before and the client is right across town (or city, cough) so it shouldn't be too bad right? they'll make it except you just kind of yk. rear-ended them at the stoplight and their sh*t's in the trunk bc it couldn't fit in the back seat and now you might have just f*cked sh*t up if that packing wrap isn't as good as it's marketed to be. potential meet cute with insurance problems and career threatening happenings basically, what could be better than that

— she hears it before she feels it, the way the body of the car lurches underneath her at the street corner. the rattling in the back is too loud for her to ignore, and she's already doing inventory on what she has with her. registration papers, house keys, studio keys, that flat tire kit she's never had to use in her life and hopes she won't have to now, the delivery— oh God, fuck, the delivery. in the trunk. surrounded by a shit ton of bubble wrap and cling film and whatever the fuck else she wrapped it in at 3am two days ago and placed it in its box, but last she checked no flat tire makes that kind of sound like the kind where there's a bit too much metal and you know in your gut you'll need to call your insurance company. both of them, in her case, if the vehicle in her rearview mirror is giving anything to go by. que se lixe isso, this is not a good day. her blood pressure was not made for this. neither was her neck, for that matter, but she doubts there was enough speed behind the impact to cause any whiplash worth worrying about. she unlocks her phone as she steps out, car door slamming closed behind her, insurance already on speed dial. as a precaution she takes a few photos of the other car's license plate, now neatly tucked (along with the front bumper) just barely under her chassis—she is not paying for this shit if she doesn't have to, especially if the driver in question has enough money to be driving a car like that right into her sedan and especially if they might have just jeopardized her commission. three months, hundreds of hours, possibly damaged in her trunk because it's the one day she didn't have her morning coffee and decided to put it there instead of the backseat, bubble wrap or no bubble wrap. yeah, she'll milk every last penny from that payout while she's at it. might as well be pissed for a reason. 'hey,' she says, coming up to the window as it rolls down, 'i'm sorry, this is going to sound so completely fucking obvious and i know this and you know this but i think you just rear-ended me? and there's something in my trunk that i really need to get out and check on before this day goes any further to shit than it already has so if you could please try and back the fuck up, it would be much appreciated. juro o túmulo da minha mãe.' her mother is alive, thank you very much, but it's not like they need to know that in english or portuguese. // @indiestarter

#* open starters. #( * starters - vasti. ) #( * threads - vasti. ) #indie rp #indie oc rp #indie bi rp #independent rp #indie starter #open starter #( * so like. funny thing when it's OOC/my main i like censor everything. but at this point i've been on Tumblr so long that the #| asterisks are basically me and my hyperfixation and aesthetic choice than anything else bc IC????? no asterisks babe we are writing #| this sh*t out [see. exactly what i mean look at the starter and then look at this. smh] #| anyway say hi to Vasti!!!!!!! treat her nicely she's been rotting my brain for the past week and a half but whatever you do #| this is not good shipping practice for your artwork do not follow this advice tho in her defense she's running on low sleep #| and zero coffee. i also speak no Portuguese whatsoever i get all of this off the net so if it's wrong i'm sorry. i'll fix it sksksksk #| tldr; it's here i got off my ass and wrote a medium length starter after years of not RPing everybody cheer. do not feel pressured #| to match the length this happened bc i am a fic/book writer first and foremost i don't do short unless i'm replying rip )

[new-lorien-artist]

When you were too passionate in the tags (and hit tag limit) that Tumblr starts breaking around you

#ernest talks #continuing where i was #i have so little time recreationally and everyone around me is busier and I've gotten more anxious and nervous over the years #and that goes for everyone else i talk to or want to talk to #and i try creating these community events like hangouts or celebrations or anything to get people coming in #or try to host stuff and we're mostly busy #I'm super super grateful when we have those hangouts work!!! I'm always so happy when people can join or make time for them #i kinda just... mourn that this too will go away and people will dissipate and the fandom goes inactive again #so i really cherish the time we make to ask each other about our day when it comes to mind #<- pointing to me saying this because I've gotten more edged in recent years and stop talking to others so i can reflect #feel like I've been too salty on fandom lately (lately like the last two years) #i also have tons of posts about like the LL fandom not being dead and I'd like that to be true #but ahhhh busy busy busyyyyyyy #I'm also generally favorable to communicating on discord instead of tumblr #which not everyone uses casually #so that's also a huge factor #asks are fun but tbh i don't get a lot of conversations continued that way #it ends up a one and done thing #either there's significant pressure in the reply to make it good that isn't usual in other text form convos #or some other reason i don't know of #conversations end quicker on tumblr so i end up relying on discord convos more

[ozonecologne]

your punk!anna art has sent many of us losing our shit - as it rightly should (in case you didnt know? i think you know. do you? ok lemme tell you again: SHE FUCKING ROCK MY SOX!!! 💋). thankyou for sharing. it's alsoso cool to see how your art style has developed since the initial piece. have you been doing other art besides fanart since that piece? oris it mostly working on fanart that has developed your mad skills? 💌😘

Hi there! I'm so glad you liked my punk!Anna redesign, I think she's pretty cool. I've definitely noticed that she's caught some peoples' attention... and I approve :)

In terms of my style evolution: yes, I've worked really hard on it! My drawing process has changed so much since that first attempt in early 2016 (I can't even believe that's the same person?), and even just in the last 2 years or so due to practice and patience. Check out my Dean comparisons! I do a lot of art in my free time that I never post on Tumblr, mostly stuff that's half-finished and/or for other fandoms that I just don't feel I can post on this blog. Here's a half-finished Charlie from this year, for example:

I don't have a career in art and I don't do a lot of original work if that's what you're asking -- everything I know how to do I owe to fan art and fandom spaces :) So thanks for encouraging me!!!! I've only grown because of all of you!!!!

#honestly it's mostly drag queens and harry styles these days... #i just feel pressure to post totally finished pieces now that i'm really starting to nail down realism #and i don't have the energy to fully finish a lot of things #so i don't end up posting anything at all? #but behind the scenes i've been trying things out and making so many strides i think!! #the improvement is sooo clear and i'm a lot happier with my art where it's at now :) #i was really discouraged there for a while #thanks for asking and for showing interest in the process -- it's nice to talk about!! #replies #anon #my art #charlie #ladies

[cagesings]

 @whatsbehindthefacade  because  johanna  needed  to  reply  to  the  letter

 anthony,  

 i  do  hope  you  will  forgive  me  for  coming  across  this  letter.  it  is  clearly  very  dear  and  personal  to  you  and  i  had  not  meant  to  read  it,  but  as  i  picked  it  up  after  you'd  fallen  asleep,  i  found  it  was  addressed  to  me  and  i  grew  curious.  it  was  very  wrong  of  me.  i  apologize  profusely.  however,  i  do  not  believe  such  a  pretty  letter  should  be  left  unanswered,  hence  why  i  am  tucking  this  on  the  page  of  your  letter  to  me.  

 i  am  very  grateful  for  that  beggar  woman  and  while  i  did  not  tend  to  appreciate  people  talking  about  me,  i  am  very  glad  she  knew  my  name  to  give  to  you.  if  only  i  had  the  same  luxury!  i  would  not  have  had  to  ask  you  for  your  name  awkwardly  after  professing  my  love  to  you.  

 for  years,  i  had  been  selfishly  praying  for  an  angel.  finally,  you  came  along  to  be  my  angel.  you  are  the  best  thing  on  this  earth,  anthony.  i  will  never  not  believe  that.  you  are  lucky,  that  since  we  are  married  i  get  to  look  upon  you  every  day.  to  have  you  look  upon  me  means  the  world  to  me.  

 i  will  now  kiss  your  forehead  since  you  sleep  so  sweetly  and  tuck  this  letter.  it  makes  me  giggle  as  i  wonder  how  your  younger  self  would  have  reacted  upon  learning  we  are  now  married.  

 your  wife,  

 johanna  hope

( tucked  carefully  between  the  pages  of  an  old  diary  --  dated  march  eighteen  forty-nine )

#this was too cute not to reply to okay? #don't feel pressured to make this a thread or anything i just Needed jo to write back to the boy with a crush #*❈ ‣ how is it that you sing anything? — ( interaction. ) #*❈ ‣ we run away and then all our dreams come true? — ( v. post ) #whatsbehindthefacade

[lottieurl]

Didn't you find it funny? :(

you'll have to be more specific, anon jdjdsjjs

#going to sleep tho so i probably wont reply fhsjsnsns #i got a couple of anons but im having bad headache exhaustion day #also i got over the idea that i NEED to answer asks before remaking my blog cause uh #getting 50 a day does that to a person #so while i appreciate every anon that isn't calling me names fhsbsns i do not feel the pressure to always reply #i usually do! but sometimes i don't have anything to say and i don't want my blog to just be answering sphere #its my lil corner of the internet with Pictures And Gifsets #so i will be answering some older asks during the weekend #but yeah actually not sure what you're referring to here 😭

[masquenoire]

@breatheflcra​ SENT: “I’m just tryin'a figure out why yer here.” (First Impressions Sentence Starters)

Shy little thing, wasn’t she? Or perhaps not - Roman had lost count of the number of grown men who’d paled upon coming face to face with the notorious Black Mask, pissing themselves shamefully thinking their time was up. To their credit, that was often the case when a situation called for him to make a personal appearance but tonight was a very different story, seeing how he was dealing with something more... delicate than an incompetent henchmen or some other poor bastard who’d gotten in way over his head. Perhaps delicate wasn’t the word he should use. Roman peered down impassively at the figure standing before him, taking note of her appearance, the way she spoke. Foxglove. He might have heard a thing or two about the woman running around the city shadows. Not a great deal, but enough to know she’d left a bloody corpse or two behind. Like a fox, she was tough to find and like her namesake, those who did and underestimated her... well, the less said about them, the better. Unless they were lucky of course, but luck wasn’t the reason why he was here. Dark eyes travelled down her form, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary on the visor that concealed her ocular features. A mask, not like his, but good enough to conceal her identity from potential enemies. It had served her well enough so far, and if he were lucky, in time it would serve him too.

"Isn’t it obvious?” Roman replied cooly, his mouth contorted as always into a perpetual grin. This time he was grinning, the whiteness of his teeth gleaming against the darkness of his disfigured face that blended in with the shadows of this place. “Well, don’t fret your pretty little head if you’re concerned. I’m just here to offer you a proposition if you’re interested in something better than skulking around this shithole.”

#breatheflcra #memes ;; first impressions #asdfghjkl don't feel obliged to reply though #I appreciate you sending this in #And I'm sorry if I got anything wrong #I read Hikari/Foxglove's carrd info and enjoyed it #Just tried to keep things vague since writing is rusty #Hopefully this was okay for you #And if you want a different starter I can write that too #No pressure don't feel obliged :)

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Smut/nsfw!

Corruption kink with dilf Miguel O'Hara.

Him getting back from HQ one day, tired and stressed, only to find you waiting for him at his place.

You're dressed in a pretty skirt, shoes off, and a white tank top underneath which he can see your hard nipples. And Jesus, you don't even know. You don't realize how it affects him.

When you see his dispair, you're just about bouncing with the need to aid him.

“Are you okay?” you question, walking up to him. Your pretty eyes look up at him, holding his gaze.

He's not sure what overcomes him, a sudden animalistic urge that has his cock hardening. “I'm okay, princesa,” he replies, voice growing thick.

“Are you sure?” you insist, hugging him around the waist. “Maybe I can help you...”

His huge hand cups your cheek, gently caressing your cheekbone before dragging his thumb over your lower lip, appreciating the way the soft, wet flesh gives to the pressure of his thumb.

He tries not to, but you're just such a good girl, so easy to convince...

“Well...there is one thing you could do...”

You jump at the opportunity. “Yeah? Yes? How?”

He kisses your lips tenderly, softly, teasing your tongue with his until your breath is heavy and you're pressing your body against his.

“Come here,” he says softly, grabbing you by the hips and picking you up. With ease, he carries you to the couch, sitting on it and pulling you onto his lap so you're straddling his hips.

You blush, pretty eyes widening at the position. He's never done anything like this. The most you two have done is cuddle and kiss; he's never even touched you.

Your hands hold onto his shoulders, keeping you steady. He squeezes your hips, his eyes dark as he watches your reaction. He loves to see you blush, the look of surprise and spark of arousal in your gaze.

“You okay, princesa?” he asks, feigning innocence.

You nod, swallowing thickly. He can't wait to teach you to swallow his load after you suck him off.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, watching him attently.

He runs his nose across your jaw, nuzzling into your neck. “You wanna help me feel better?”

You shudder as his warm breath blows across your collarbone. “Yes,” you say softly.

He grabs your hips, starting to grind you against his thigh. You gasp, eyes widening, nails digging into his shoulders.

“M-Miguel?” Your voice is shaky, uneasy, a little whine escaping your lips.

“For me, yeah?” he says lowly, moving you against him, aching to eat you out, to slide his fingers into you, to fuck you hard and fast until you're dumb from ecstasy.

You nod. “O-okay,” you say, gasping silently as a shock of pleasure rushes up your spine.

You let him lead you, making you ride his thigh. He revels in the sounds you make, the way your slick drips through your panties and smears onto his pants. He wants to lick you, touch you, fuck you.

He contents himself with making you come on his thigh over and over again until you're shaking, eyes wide with shock and dark from satisfaction.

“Atta girl,” he says, voice deeper, thicker. He holds you as you come down from your high and he kisses your forehead.

“Do you feel better?” you ask breathlessly, body sweaty and eyes fluttering shut.

He grins. “Oh, definitely, princesa. I feel much better. But maybe there's one more favor you could do me...”

He waits for an answer even though the keen look in your eyes says it all.

You nod. “Yes.”

-----

@yagirlheree @sukioyakio @obi-mom-kenobi @celestia80s @manlikemilesmyguy @zaunsin @naniiiii12 @everlastlady @avatar-lover @siidmm @dhollandhs @spikedhe4rt @missing2socks @itzraven101 @miguelspookiebear @mochikomochisoft @sunset-euphoria @kishibeswh0re

*if you want me to add you to my taglist, comment or send me a message <3

-----

Blog masterlist

#miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut

[monster-disaster]

[wolf-shifter] Rome

wolf-shifter!Rome x human!Reader Good to know: somnophilia, non-con, breeding, rut Summary: Your best friend can't keep himself away from you anymore.

"Did I wake you up?" Your words are slurred when you break the silence of the quiet flat. The only sound is the traffic from the streets, filtering inside through the closed windows. A few cars pass by every now and again. Their engine rumbles through the air, echoing off the buildings.

Your back is against the wall next to the entrance door as your best friend kneels in front of you, trying to take off your shoes with a slight frown between his brows. His thick fingers can barely handle the delicate clasps.

"It's fine," he hums, pushing the shoes aside. "I told you to call me if you need me."

"Thank you," you reply, tilting your head back when he stands up and towers above you. Your makeup is a bit smudged around your eyes as you blink up at him sleepily. "You are a good friend, Rome. I love you."

The man just smirks at your words, tucking you against his side to lead you into his room. He knows the drill by now. You go out with your co-workers, drink more than you can handle, and call him to take you home. He helps you, of course, while listening to you repeat how much you love him until you fall asleep.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he replies, opening the door of his room and leading you inside until you sit on the edge of his bed. Your posture is relaxed and tired. You don't even move a muscle when you feel him starting to take off your clothes.

"Arms up," he says, and when you do, he pulls up your top until it's on a chair nearby. It smells like your perfume, smoke, and alcohol.

"Do you want a shower?" Rome asks even though he already knows your answer.

"'m tired," you hum, letting your eyes close while you are still in a sitting position.

"Of course," the man chuckles.

While he searches for a shirt you can sleep in, he can't help but let his eyes wander on your almost bare body. Your tits fill the bra into a nice cleavage, and your panties match.

"Hold up your arms for a second, sweetheart," he says quietly, feeling a bit annoyed when the thin fabric hides your body from his dark gaze.

"You can lay down now," he adds, helping you onto his bed and tucking you in. By the time he straightens up, you are already asleep.

Rome has known you since he moved into the city. You met at a coffee shop where you worked after college. He knew you were the one him after a glance and a sniff in the air heavy with the scent of coffee and you. It was love at first sight, except you put him into a friend zone, and Rome never figured out how to get out of it without ruining your friendship. So he stayed in that damn zone, hoping that one day you will confess his love for him or he will grow some balls to tell you the truth. Pathetic really.

After making sure the lock of his entrance door is closed and putting a big glass of water next to you on the nightstand, he climbs onto the bed, trying to focus on anything else but your closeness. You are bundled up in the blanket so much he can barely see the top of your head, and your light snores are muffled by the thick fabric.

His brothers would laugh at him for sure. Their little brother can't get the girl, so he has to wake up next to her with blue balls. How funny. They would never let this go. Idiots. All of them.

He glances at you one last time. He is, too.

Sleep takes him after a while, but his dreams are heavy and troubled. When he wakes up, it's almost morning. The sun is still hiding behind the horizon, but it's there. He turns on his back and groans. His gums ache and burns, his mouth open to lift the pressure off his teeth. Sweat glistens on his heated body. His fingers dig into the mattress under him, feeling his claws wanting to grow out. And his cock. He closes his eyes tightly to keep a pained moan in his chest. It's hard and heavy between his thighs. His erection pulses with each breath he takes, and his underwear is already ruined by the precum soaking the black fabric.

"Fuck," he grunts, sitting up on the edge of the bed. He has a hard time making his tense muscles move. The wooden ground feels cold under him. His skin feels too tight and too itchy.

Rome circles his broad shoulders backward a few times before standing up to get to the kitchen for some water. And maybe he should go out for a run. Yes. Some fresh air would definitely do some good.

The man is almost at the door of his room when you turn on your back on the bed, still sleeping. His eyes rake over your body under the covers. He almost forgot you were there. He was so busy with his wolf wanting to come out he didn't even notice you until now. But now, he can't tear his gaze away from you. You are so peaceful and pretty. Your hair is a mess, and your makeup is smeared around your closed eyes even more than last night.

"Fuck," Rome groans again. You shouldn't be here. Not when his rut is approaching and the wolf in him claws on the inside of his mind to get out.

He should force himself to walk away and call an Uber for you. He should wake you up and make you leave. Or at least, he should force himself out of the room. You shouldn't be here so beautiful and soft while his cock throbs with the need to fill you up.

Images of you pliant and warm in his arms flood his mind. How would you feel under his hands? Under his tongue? Around his...

Rome stares at your chest for long seconds, watching you breathe. You are deep asleep. You always black out when you drink too much.

He steps closer.

His large hands curl into fists.

Another step to the bed.

He shouldn't.

"Fuck."

The change of his body comes naturally and quickly. His skeleton transforms into something more primal, with firm muscles and dark fur all over his skin. He grows taller and stronger. The ache in his body lessens, but his cock between his legs still bobs angrily with each step he takes to the bed to get closer to your sleeping form. His claws grip the blanket, pulling it down from the bed slowly and carefully. He drops it to the ground, keeping his eyes on your bare legs. His t-shirt barely hides your panties, and he can see your nipples harden at the sudden change of temperature.

For a second, his attention wanders up to your face. Your eyes are still closed, and your breath is even. The man climbs up on the bed. The mattress dips under his weight. He hovers above your sleeping form, almost frozen. You can wake up at any minute, and there is no way he can explain the situation without you freaking out.

But it's too little and too late.

Taking a deep breath, his hand moves to his aching cock, his long fingers curling around the thick shaft. A groan escapes his open mouth, his long tongue lick over his upper teeth. His eyes wander down on your body, pausing at your soft tits and hard nipples before falling to your covered mound. His grip tightens on his erection, precum leaking from the dark pink tip. He throbs in his own hand, urging him to do something.

He saw you like this several times since you know each other. You are comfortable showing some skin even though it drives him crazy under the surface. The memories almost make him angry. So many times, he imagined you under him, moaning and crying for him while you were totally unaware of his desires and demons.

Releasing his cock, he reaches out for you. His touch is gentle and warm on your knees, gliding up on the soft flesh of your thigh. When you open your legs, he almost jumps back and out of the bed. Rome snaps his eyes up to your face again. You are still asleep.

It's so wrong on so many levels.

Now, that your legs are open, he can see the slit of your pussy through the thin fabric. Drool drips down from his mouth at the plump sight.

Maybe it's enough, he tries to convince himself. Just jerking off on the view of your cunt is enough until you wake up and go home. You won't know anything about it, and life can go on as usual. It's a lie, and the beast in him knows it.

His hand is on you again, caressing your thigh before sliding up to your panties. It's soft under his touch but does nothing but annoy him. His thumb moves between your legs, feeling the heat of your pussy on his own skin. His heart beats in his throat as he watches. Your clit is under his thumb, drawing small circles on the bud.

Rome doesn't have to wait long to feel your arousal in the air. It's thick and heavy, making him and his cock drool some more.

"Fuck!" He groans. His snout fidgets as he takes deep breaths from your scent. "You smell so good."

He moves closer, slowly, tentatively. He lifts his weight onto his arms at the sides of your body. His eyes are on your face again, watching you sleep while his nose almost bumps against your mound. A low groan rumbles in his chest. You are so close. So delicious. His tongue rolls out of his mouth, licking through your center over the fabric covering it. You are wet. He licks over your slit until your panties are soaked with your juices and his saliva. It sticks to your plump pussy.

"Let's take it down," he hums, hooking his long fingers on the side of your panties to pull it down and reveal your most intimate part. Your cunt glistens under the street lights that filter into his bedroom through the window.

The wolf-shifter's world spins around him once, twice, three times as he leans closer again. His snout rubs against your clit, taking deep breaths of your heavy smell. He lost control over his own body a long time ago.

"So pretty," he murmurs. Saliva drips down onto your wet center as he hovers above you. The sight fills him with satisfaction. You will smell like him. You will be marked by him. "You have such a pretty pussy, sweetheart."

Almost bursting with anticipation, he slides his tongue between your folds, lapping up your juices. When he flicks your clit, you moan into the dark room, making him freeze for long seconds. The sound escaping your mouth is hoarse and oh, so delicious. Your smell gets stronger in the air, but you don't move.

"Just a little bit more," he whispers, almost begging. He slurps on your pussy hurriedly, trying to suffocate himself in your cunt. His tongue finds your entrance, pushing inside your hot channel. He can feel you fluttering around his tongue, sucking him in for more. His whole body trembles as his muscles tense. Every nerve in his body is focused on you. Your smell and taste drive him deeper and deeper to the point he can't back away.

His cock hangs heavy between his thighs, leaking. His balls feel too tight, and his hips start to rock back and forth every now and again to find some friction. The knot at the base of his shaft grows with each second he spends between your thighs, munching on your cunt.

Biting off his own claw, he turns his attention back to your empty hole. His tongue slides into you easily. You are pulsing and fluttering until he adds his finger to stretch you out some more. For a second, you tense up, moaning again before continuing to sleep. He almost laughs. He could fuck you. You wouldn't wake up.

He almost cums when you clench around him. He scoops up your nectar with his tongue, gulping to burn the memory of your taste in his mind. Your breathing gets heavier, and a small, barely noticeable tremble runs through your body as you reach your climax. With his free hand, Rome has to squeeze his cock to stop him from shooting his seed all over you and the bed.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he groans, keeping his fingers in you, feeling your still squeezing walls. "Can you do that again? Could you cum on my cock, hm? Are you ready for it?"

It's madness.

He climbs above you, pushing your legs apart to have enough space for his slim waist between your thighs. His erection rubs against your folds, mixing his pre-cum and your juices together.

"God," he groans. "Fuck! So good, sweetheart. Your cunt is so warm. She wants me, love. She wants my cock inside. You know it, too."

Grabbing his erection, he adjusts the bulbous tip to your entrance before starting to push inside. He growls at the feeling of you enveloping him. You are warm and wet and perfect. His balls jerk and his knot pulses.

"That's it," he groans. "You are doing so good, sweetheart."

"Rome?" Your voice feels like cold water. His name on your lips is thick with sleep and confusion. "What? What are you doing?" Your question ends in a moan when he doesn't stop. He pushes his cock inside you entirely, stretching you out and filling you up.

"Shh, sweetheart," he grunts, panting. "It's okay."

"Rome?" Panic laces your voice. "Rome! Stop!"

"I can't," Rome replies, shaking his head, licking up on the side of your neck. Your palms seem small on his broad chest as you try to push him away while he still rocking back and forth inside you.

"Enough! Rome!"

"Shh," he tries to calm you again. His mind is dizzy with the feeling of you around him. Tight and warm, clenching with every movement you make. Your trashing under him almost breaks his cock off, but damn his whole life if he stops. "It's okay, love. Your pussy wants it."

"What? No! It's wrong!"

"No!" He growls. "It's not! I should have made you mine a long time ago!"

Despite your panic and anger, a moan escapes your lips when he thrusts inside you. Your pussy clenches around his shaft, soaking his erection. Rome reaches every sweet spot in you, driving you higher and higher.

"So good, sweetheart," he coos. His words fan over the side of your neck. "You feel it too, right? My cock stretches your tiny pussy. You squeeze on me so tight, I can barely move."

"Rome!" You moan his name, your fingers dig into the hard muscles of his shoulder. Your legs curl around his waist to keep him close. Pleasure flares through your body even though you know it's wrong.

"And you taste so good, love," he grunst into your neck. Your skin is wet from his drooling. "I ate your pussy while you slept," he admits. "I drank up your juices. You got wet so easily. Your pussy knew it was me."

They shouldn't, but his words fuel you more. Your hips move under him, meeting his thrust as your back arches from the bed.

"Rome! Please! Fuck!"

Seeing you so responsive wakes up something primal inside him. You want him, he thinks, shocked. You want his cock, his warm cum. His mark. He almost shouts with pain when he forces himself to kneel up and leave your warm channel.

"Turn around," he says but doesn't wait for your reaction. Grabbing your hips, he turns you on your stomach, tugging you into a kneeling position. Your ass rubs against his cock while he hovers above you and pushes your head down on the bed.

"Present yourself for me, sweetheart," he groans, rutting against your bottom. "Show me how much you want my cock like a good bitch."

"Rome," you cry his name, screaming when he enters into your pussy again. His hold is firm and hard on your hips as he keeps you in place against his pounding. He fucks your pussy with newfound vigor. Your juices flow down on your thighs, dripping onto the bed.

"Fuck!" Rome groans. "Your pussy is so good to me, sweetheart. She knows what she wants, and it's my cock. She wants me to fill her up and soak her with my seed."

His words clear your mind for a second. Your fingers grip onto the blanket under you. "Wait! Rome! Don't! I don't…!"

"It's okay, love," Rome groans, still fucking you. "You don't have to worry. I will take care of you and our pup. I will fuck your cunt until you are round with my child. I want to see your tits grow with milk and your stomach with our pup. Maybe I will always keep you pregnant and ripe."

Tears run down your cheek from pleasure and fear. Your body and your mind tell different things, and you can do nothing because of the spinning world around you. Your walls flutter around his cock, your stomach tightens into a burning coil.

"Take my knot, love," he demands. "Let me fuck my mate pregnant. Let me have this, love. Just open up your pussy for me, and I will do the rest."

There is no way you can fight against him. His hold on you is too strong and tight, while your limbs feel like jelly. He bullies your cock, filling you up to the brim.

Rome's whole world narrows down on your sweet hole as he forces his knot inside your wet pussy. Every nerve in his body bursts with pleasure when he is inside you fully, and he can't move without tugging and pushing you with the rhythm of his hips pounding your hole.

His growl shakes the walls as he cums inside you. He shoots into your hole several times until, even through the barrier of his knot, some still escapes your pussy.

"Ohgod!" You cry, shaking and jerking. Your eyes roll back into your skull as you reach your climax. You suck Rome for every drop of his cum he can give you. Your pussy aches and burns so deliciously that you can do nothing, but rock back against him for more. His chuckle is hoarse next to your ears when he notices what you are doing.

"It's 'kay, love," he hums, still keeping his weight on his arms. "My rut will keep me going for a while longer before I'm done with you."

"What?" You gasp, breathless. "We are not done?"

"Didn't you hear me?" He hums, pushing inside you more if it's even possible. "I won't stop until you are with my pup."

- Masterlist Meriad Masterlist Patreon

#monster romance #monster x human #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster smut #meriad #werewolf x reader #werewolf x human #werewolf smut #teratophillia #monster lover #monster imagine #exophelia #terat0philliac

[incognit0slut]

Just the sloppiest head ever, that’s it. Choking, gagging, etc

Spencer finally lets you go down on him after you convince him that you're ready.

Warnings: (18+) soft dom spence x inexperienced fem reader. Oral sex (male receiving while he talks you through it?), female masturbation because reader can’t help herself lol. 1.8k words a/n: this is very much self-indulgent because I need him so bad. Ty anon for requesting

"No."

You pulled away from him, shifting your weight on his lap as you peered down at him, a furrow forming on your brow. "No?"

He gently shook his head, his hands tracing up your thighs. "You're not ready yet."

You leaned back, creating some space between you, though it wasn't much given the way you were straddling him. "Wait a minute," you protested. "Since when do you get to decide if I'm ready or not? And why aren't you into it when most guys would be jumping at the chance?"

A faint smile danced on his lips. "I thought I’m the first guy you've ever been with."

"That's not the point!"

He laughed, his hands finding a firm grip on your waist. "It's not that I don’t enjoy the idea..."

"Then what's holding you back?"

He paused for a moment, his expression softening as he looked into your eyes. "Because I care about you," he confessed, his thumb tracing circles on your hip. "And I don't want you to feel pressured or rushed for anything we do together."

"That's what I've been trying to say," you replied. "I don't feel pressured. I want to."

He studied you, and when the silence went on, you knew you had to do something to reassure him. With a gentle sigh, you shifted closer, nestling against him, and allowed your lips to graze the sensitive curve of his neck. It was a spot you knew well, one that never failed to draw out a reaction from him. You felt the subtle hitch in his breath and smiled.

"You already went down on me yesterday and I really, really liked it," you murmured between kisses, your lips trailing further down. "Let me do the same for you."

Feeling the warmth of your breath against his skin, he let out a soft sigh, his resolve weakening.

"I..." he began, his voice catching as he struggled to find the right words.

You lifted your head to meet his gaze. "Trust me," you whispered, your fingers tracing soothing patterns on his chest. "Let me show you how much I want this."

His eyelids drooped slightly as your hands moved down. When you paused, fingers poised right above the evident bulge in his pants, you realized you had him right where you wanted him to be.

"Come on, Spencer," you whispered, gripping him over the material of his pants, working your hand up and down his thickness. "Let me suck your cock."

He sucked in a sharp breath, his grip tightening on your waist as he met your gaze. What kind of man would he be to deny you? To say no to you as you looked at him with those glossy eyes, your lips running along your lips? With a low groan, he finally gave in, his resolve crumbling as he nodded in silent agreement. 

"Okay," he breathed out, his voice heavy with need. "Okay, just... only if you're sure."

With a reassuring smile, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I'm sure," you whispered against his skin.

As if a switch had been flipped, you felt the tension in him dissipate entirely. His touch on your waist was firm, sending a shiver down your spine, and the look in his eyes had you already feeling a flush of heat between your legs.

"Get on your knees."

Your breath caught in your throat at his tone, a thrill coursing through you at the sheer dominance in his demeanor. Without hesitation, you obeyed, slipping off the couch and sinking to your knees before him. The intensity of his gaze sent a delicious shiver down your spine, and you looked up at him, meeting his eyes as he reached for his belt.

As he undid his belt, the anticipation between you intensified, and you could feel the heat building between your thighs. With a slow, deliberate motion, he freed himself from the confines of his pants. Your pulse quickened as your gaze lingered on him, drinking in every detail, every inch of him, the veins pulsing on the underside of his cock.

Unable to resist any longer, you reached out, your fingers trailing lightly over his length, feeling the heat emanating from him. "I..." you started, your voice wavering slightly. "I might be bad at this."

His hand reached out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "Do you want me to talk you through it?"

Your heart skipped a beat at his offer. "Yes, please," you replied. "I want to make this good for you."

A soft smile tugged at his lips. "You already make it good just by being here," he murmured. "But I'll guide you, okay?"

His words melted away your nerves. "Okay," you whispered. "What do I do first?"

"Start with gentle kisses," he instructed, his voice low and soothing. "Explore the tip with your lips."

Following his guidance, you leaned in, pressing soft kisses along his length, feeling the tension in him building with each tender touch. You focused on every sensation, savoring the moment as you allowed yourself to immerse in the way he pulsed underneath your touch.

"Good," he murmured, his breath hitching as he looked down at the way you were gripping his cock, your mouth exploring every inch of him. "Now, use your tongue. Start with light strokes."

Encouraged by his words, you followed his guidance. With gentle strokes, you explored the sensitive skin with your tongue. His reaction was immediate—a sharp intake of breath followed by a low groan that sent a shiver down your spine. 

His reaction spurred you on as you increased the pressure of your strokes. His hands found their way into your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he held you close. "That's it," he whispered, his voice thick with need. "Just like that."

A sense of power washed over you as you continued to tease him with your tongue, relishing in the way he squirmed beneath you. You marveled at the effect you had on him, and with a boldness you didn't know you possessed, you licked him from the base to the tip, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.

His reaction was immediate, a low groan escaping his lips as he arched into your touch. "You're driving me crazy," he breathed out. "Do you think you can handle more?"

Your heart raced at the question, excitement coursing through your veins. "Yes," you replied.  "Please."

He guided your lips over to his tip. "Now take me in your mouth."

You leaned in, allowing him to slide into your parted lips. The sensation was intoxicating, the taste of him filling your senses as you eagerly accepted him into your mouth. His hands gently guided you, encouraging you to find a rhythm that worked for both of you and before you knew it, your head was bopping up and down his length.

With your hand already gripping him, you began pumping up and down as you sucked him, eliciting deep groans and breathy moans from him in return. "God, your mouth feels so good," he hissed, his voice thick with desire. "Look up at me."

Obeying his command, you lifted your gaze to meet his, locking eyes with him. He looked down at you with his cock buried deep inside your mouth, your cheeks flushed, and lips stretched wide around his girth. Driven by the desire to give him more pleasure, you sank your mouth further, keeping your eyes locked on his as his tip hit the back of your throat. 

The sensation made you gag, your throat burning with the effort, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. But you pushed through before finally pulling back, a string of saliva trailing from your lips as you gasped for air, and despite the discomfort, the look of satisfaction on his face made it all worth it.

His head fell back against the couch, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. "I don't think I can last much longer," he admitted, his voice strained.

Feeling a surge of pride at the effect you had on him, you leaned in close, your lips brushing against his cock again, "Then let go. I want to taste you."

"Yeah?" he breathed, looking down at you. "You'd let me come in your mouth?"

Your tongue flickered over his tip, one right over his slit, and you felt his hips buck underneath you. "I think I'd let you do anything to me by now."

He let out a sound of pleasure, and without hesitation, you took him into your mouth again. You set a steady pace, moaning around his shaft as spit dribbled past the corners of your lips and down your chin. It wasn't long until the room was filled with obscene lewd noises as you took as much of him down your throat.

With each throb of him in your mouth and every intoxicating sound he made, the ache between your thighs intensified until it became unbearable. Unable to resist any longer, you let your free hand slide between your thighs, slipping underneath your skirt.

Surprised at how wet your panties were, you wasted no time in spreading your arousal everywhere, your fingers finding your clit with ease. You spread your legs further on the floor, arching your back as you pleasured yourself, your movements synchronized with the rhythm of your mouth along his cock.

Spencer's breath hitched as he noticed your dainty hand between your legs, the sight of you touching yourself while eagerly sucking and bobbing your head up and down his length sending him to the edge. He couldn't hold back any longer. 

He tightened his grip on your hair, his hips instinctively thrusting into your mouth as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensation. His release finally washed over him in waves, his body trembling with the force of it as he emptied himself into your waiting mouth, and you swallowed the hot spurts down your throat eagerly, savoring the taste of him.

It didn't take long for you to feel the familiar coil of pleasure building within you. With his release still fresh on your tongue, you shifted your focus to your own pleasure, your fingers picking up the pace as you sought your own climax. And then, with a sharp gasp, you felt the wave of pleasure crashing over you.

You finally released him when your orgasm subsided, slumping over his lap. He was quick to bring you up on the couch, a tender smile on his lips as he looked down at you. "Did you make yourself come?"

Feeling a warm flush spread across your cheeks, you nodded breathlessly, unable to meet his gaze. "Yeah..."

His smile softened further, his fingers gently lifting your chin to meet his gaze.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," he assured you. But before you could respond, you felt his other hand slipping inside your skirt, tugging down your panties.

Your eyes went wide. "What are you doing?"

"I think it's only fair," he replied as he pulled your panties down your legs. Then, to your surprise, he got to his knees, positioning himself between your thighs as he pushed your legs apart. "I want to taste you too."

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic

[yawnderu]

Lorelei — Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader | Part I

1 2 3 4 5

Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.

''So you're just goin' to sit there and tell me that isn't my daughter.'' Simon says bluntly, tone even yet carrying a snark hidden that you came to listen so many times after working with him— never once directed at you until now.

''It's really none of your business, Ghost.'' You don't even spare a glance at him, simply looking at your little girl, fingers gently running through her short hair. She looks exactly like Simon, though that will never take away your love for her.

''You're not denyin' it.'' He hesitantly sits down next to you, secretly afraid you'll bite his head off. The glare you shoot his way is enough confirmation that you would if you could. You sigh softly, the air leaving your lungs before being sucked back in, not wanting to argue in front of your little girl despite her not understanding words yet.

''Well, what's it to you? Why do you need to know?'' I can't handle you leaving me again.

''Don't be like that.'' His tone is soft, almost pleading. It has been over a year since he broke up with you, yet that doesn't make the loss any easier, not now that he knows he has a daughter, no matter how much you tried to hide it from him.

''Why didn't you tell me?'' He asks gently, feeling like he's walking on eggshells. It's the first time ever he feels that way with you, and he doesn't blame you in the slightest. It takes a few seconds of you thinking before you answer.

''I was terrified of you choosing to walk away from her... to be a deadbeat. I didn't want to have that image of you, because that would have hurt more than the break up.'' Your voice is more calm, though for all the wrong reasons. The familiar tingling all over your nose is back, eyes stinging as you try to hold back tears, too prideful to cry in front of him again.

''That's what you think o' me?'' He replies in nothing but pure disbelief and slight disgust. He would never walk away from his child, no matter how much that would destroy all the walls he has been building for years, stones upon stones carefully piled on top of each other, so strong nothing could ever break through— until you came along.

''I was fucking scared, okay?'' You look away and wipe your eyes with one hand, the other one carefully supporting the neck of the baby on your lap. Simon sighs, his bare hand hesitantly reaching down to trace the features of the tiny girl, being careful with her as if she would break if he applied any pressure. He notices your eyes glued to his hand, eyebrows furrowed. He's about to move his hand away until you adjust the little girl so he can touch her face without the awkward angle.

''Give me one more chance. Please— please, let me be a father to her.'' Simon never begged for anything, not even when he was tortured for months to no end, drugged, beaten like a dog, yet here he is; begging his ex for a chance to keep the girl in his life. You don't reply.

''I'll do everything I can. What I should've done. I want to be here, please.'' He was so damn ready to get on his knees and beg if that's what it took for you to let him be involved in her life. He's not asking you to be together— he knows he doesn't deserve that chance.

''She's looking at you like she knows you.'' Your response is ominous to say the least. You want to deny him, to tell him he doesn't even deserve to be able to touch the little girl you birthed alone, that he doesn't deserve the chance at a family after he destroyed 4 years of a relationship because of the very same thing, but... your little girl is looking up at him with pure admiration and curiosity in her big brown eyes, her tiny hand struggling to hold one of his fingers. Growing up with a single parent yourself, you know she deserves better, and you're willing to put your pride and pain aside to make sure she gets the world.

''Okay.'' You reply after taking a deep breath, holding it into your lungs for what feels like forever, choosing to ignore the strong arms wrapping around you, bringing all three of you close. It feels... right.

[NEXT]

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x you #call of duty #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost x f!reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #dad!simon riley #dad!ghost #ghost mw3 #mw2 x reader #mw2 x you

[grandprixwinnerlandonorris]

The Interview | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x bsf!reader

Warnings: smut

Requested: yes

A/N: My first time writing bsf!Lando yay!!! This was a pain in the ass to edit and as twice to write. I wanted to burn it at least six times in the process, but I finally won that war and here we are. I don't hate it, but don't necessarily like it either, but I hope that's only because I read it like 945437 times and already know every sentence by heart 💀 and that you will actually enjoy it <3

Interviewing your best friend, how hard could it actually be? As you sat across from Lando Norris in the cozy McLaren hospitality, you realized that interviewing him was proving to be much more challenging than you had anticipated. Especially when he was looking like that.

Sweats and hoodies were his all time go to whenever he was at home, and you have seen him wearing it numerous times. But that morning when he came to pick you up from your hotel room, you didn’t expect that exact outfit to be the one to leave you stunned.

As you tried to ignore how effortlessly good he looked, in white sweatpants and a light grey jumper that showcased his lean physique, and curls of his hair falling in just the right way over his forehead, you cleared your throat and focused on the notes in front of you. But as Lando flashed you a charming smile and leaned back in his chair, all thoughts of the interview questions went out the window.

“So, what do you want to know that you already don’t?” Lando asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"So, Lando," you began, trying to keep your voice steady, "what do you think sets McLaren apart from the other teams on the grid this season?"

"I think what really sets us apart is our team spirit," he replied. "We have an incredible group of people working together towards a common goal, and that camaraderie is something special." Lando flashed you yet another one of his charming smiles.

His words were filled with passion, and it was impossible not to be captivated by the way his voice drew you in. Despite being your best friend, there was something different about seeing him in his element, fully immersed in his love for the sport.

"It's no secret that you have a huge following on social media," you continued, steering the conversation towards a lighter topic. "How do you handle the pressure of always being under the spotlight?"

Lando chuckled softly before replying, "Oh, you know, I just try to be myself and have fun with it. The fans are amazing, and I'm grateful for all their support. Plus, it helps that my memes game is strong," he added with a wink.

"You definitely have some iconic meme moments," you agreed with a laugh, feeling more at ease now that the conversation had shifted to something more familiar. But beneath the banter and playful exchanges, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that there was something Lando wasn't telling you.

Throughout the interview, you noticed subtle shifts in Lando's demeanor whenever certain topics came up. His jokes became more frequent, his sarcasm sharper, as if he was intentionally deflecting your inquiries. You made a mental note to revisit those moments later, but for now, you decided to go with the flow and enjoy the time with your best friend.

Leaning forward, you fixed him with a steady gaze and said, "Let's talk some more about you. It’s the beginning of a new season and fans are eager to know what your goals are for the upcoming races. Can you share with us what you hope to achieve this year?"

For a moment, there was a flicker of seriousness in his eyes before he smirked and replied, "I hope to give all the other drivers a head start, just to make things interesting," Lando quipped with a mischievous grin.

You chuckled at his response, recognizing the familiar playful tone he always carried. But beneath the humor, you sensed a hint of determination in his eyes. Pushing further, you pressed on, "Come on, Lando. We all know you're not one to settle for anything less than the best. What are your real aspirations for this season?"

“You already know what my aspirations are, y/n. Can’t you just make something up?”

“Of course I can’t. What if I put together a statement and then you tell a different version of events to another journalist?”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head at your persistence. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t lie to them? Other reporters aren’t my friends so I think it’s actually you who’s in advantage here.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you shot back, "Oh, so now I'm the lucky one getting the inside scoop, huh? Well alright, if you’re already so tired of answering my questions, how about we take a break and take some pictures for the article? I also heard you got a new helmet you’ll be wearing for testing as a tribute to Gil de Ferán, right? Let's capture that moment."

Lando's eyes lit up with enthusiasm at the mention of his new helmet design. He eagerly agreed, and the two of you made your way to the McLaren garage where his helmet awaited. As he carefully lifted it up, you couldn't help but admire the intricate details and the thoughtful tribute to the racing legend. Lando slipped it on with a sense of pride, and you couldn't resist snapping a few photos of him posing confidently in front of his car.

“Let’s go out to the track and have some shots of you and the helmet there. You could sit on the pit wall and hold it in your lap while admiring it,” you suggested, already envisioning the striking images that would accompany your article. Lando flashed you a grateful smile, appreciating your creativity and dedication to capturing the essence of his racing journey.

Lando perched on the pit wall, his expression a mix of focus and determination as he cradled the helmet in his hands. The vibrant colors of the design shone brightly against the backdrop of the racing circuit, a visual representation of Lando's respect for the sport's history and his aspirations for the future.

You snapped photo after photo, each frame telling a story of passion, ambition, and unwavering dedication.

“You’re choosing some interesting angles,” Lando teased as you were crouching down to get a shot from a lower perspective.

You couldn't help but smile at his lighthearted comment, your cheeks flushing with a warmth that had nothing to do with the scorching sun beating down on the track. Lando's voice had a way of enveloping you, drawing you in like a magnet and as you adjusted your position to capture another shot, your eyes inadvertently lingered on his hands, noticing the way his fingers traced the curves of the helmet with a gentle reverence.

You always thought Lando had beautiful hands, but in that very moment you couldn’t help but think what it would be like if those hands touched you. Really touched you.

The professional journalist in you was focused on capturing the perfect shots and telling Lando's story through the lens of your camera. But the other part of you, the part that had known Lando for years and cherished his friendship above all else, was struggling to keep up with the sudden surge of desires and thoughts that threatened to unravel your composure.

Lando's easy laughter and playful banter did little to ease the tension building within you. With each click of the camera, his presence seemed to grow more magnetic, his features more captivating. You couldn't deny the allure of his smile, the intensity in his gaze, or the way his energy seemed to envelop you in a cocoon of warmth.

While you reviewed the photos on your camera, Lando leaned in closer to get a glimpse as well. The heat of his body so near sent a shiver down your spine, and you hastily cleared your throat, trying to dispel the sudden rush of emotions coursing through you. But Lando was oblivious to your inner turmoil, his attention fully focused on the images displayed on the screen.

"These look amazing, y/n," he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with genuine excitement.

"Thank you, Lando," you managed to reply, your voice sounding slightly breathless even to your own ears. Clearing your throat once more, you added, "We should head back. You still owe me some answers.”

As you walked back towards the McLaren hospitality unit, Lando slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a playful headlock. "You know, y/n, for someone who claims to be a professional interviewer, you're not half bad as a photographer either," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You chuckled, swatting his arm away with mock indignation. "Hey now, don't let my talents overshadow your own star power. I'm just here to make sure the world sees the real Lando Norris in all his glory, on and off the track," you quipped back with a grin, the easy banter between you a testament to the years of friendship that had only grown stronger through the shared journey in the fast-paced world of Formula 1.

As you reached the hospitality unit, Lando released you from the headlock and held the door open with a flourish. "After you, madam photographer," he said with a mock bow, his eyes dancing with a mischievous gleam.

You both entered the bustling hospitality area, filled with team members preparing for the upcoming race weekend. The familiar sights and sounds enveloped you, a comforting blend of adrenaline and excitement that always accompanied a race day.

The familiar faces of the McLaren team greeted you warmly, their camaraderie palpable in every interaction. Lando's presence only added to the vibrant ambiance, his infectious laughter drawing others to join in.

Taking a seat at one of the tables, you watched as Lando engaged in animated conversations with his teammates, his passion for racing evident in every gesture and expression. It was moments like these that reminded you why you were drawn to motorsport in the first place—the sense of community, the thrill of competition, and the shared pursuit of excellence.

“Sorry for leaving you like that,” Lando said, sliding into the seat across from you, “but duty calls. It’s time to jump in the car. We can finish the interview later tonight, if that’s alright?”

"Of course, go do your thing out there on the track. We'll pick up where we left off," you replied, giving him an encouraging smile.

You stayed for a while, watching him drive and snapping a few more photos of his swift maneuvers on the track, each turn and acceleration a testament to his skill behind the wheel. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the circuit as the day drew to a close and you decided to go back to the hotel and edit the material you’ve gathered so far.

Having spent the whole day on track in the glowing sun, you first took a shower and got more comfortable in your pajama shorts and loose top before settling down at the small desk in your hotel room. The soft glow of the lamp bathed the room in a warm light as you organized your notes and sifted through the photos from today's shoot. Lando's vibrant energy leapt off the screen, each image a kaleidoscope of emotions and determination captured in still frames.

Lost in thought, you were startled by a knock on the door. Puzzled, you made your way over and peered through the peephole to see Lando standing outside, a sheepish grin on his face. And he was back in that damn outfit from before.

Despite the late hour, you couldn't suppress a smile at the sight of Lando standing at your door, his eyes alight with a mischievous glint. Opening the door, you raised an eyebrow in mock admonishment.

“Look who decided to show up. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me,” you quipped, stepping aside to let him in.

“Never,” he replied with a grin, making himself at home in your hotel room. “Besides, I thought we could finish that interview now that I'm all fresh and ready to spill some secrets," you couldn't help but notice the way he moved with an easy familiarity, as if he had been in this space countless times before. “Oh, sorry, were you getting ready for bed?” he asked, as if only now noticing your comfortable attire, his gaze lingering on your bare legs a little longer than necessary, before innocently looking you in the eyes with a small smile.

Ignoring the flutter in your chest at his gaze, you shook your head with a chuckle.

“Not at all, I was actually working. You should see your helmet shots on a big screen. They turned out to be amazing.” you gestured as you took a seat at your laptop to show him.

Lando leaned over your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck as he peered at the screen. You couldn't help but notice the closeness between you, the shared intimacy of the moment sending a chill down your back.

“Wow, these look incredible,” Lando breathed, his voice low with awe. ”You really have an eye for capturing the moment.”

His praise sent a flush of warmth to your cheeks, a mixture of pride and something else you couldn't quite name. As you scrolled through the images together, Lando's hand brushed yours accidentally, sending a jolt of electricity through you both.

Clearing your throat and trying to ignore the nervous flutters, you turned to face him. "So, about those secrets you promised to spill..."

Lando's eyes sparkled mischievously as he settled into the armchair beside you, his gaze intense as he studied your face. For a moment, there was a weighty silence that hung between you, thick with unspoken words and unexplored emotions. You could sense a shift in the air, as if the room itself held its breath in anticipation of what he might reveal.

Finally, breaking the tension with a casual shrug, Lando chuckled softly. "Alright, alright. What do you want to know?" he asked playfully, though there was a glint of vulnerability in his eyes that you couldn't ignore.

Seeing him sit there casually in that armchair and in those sweatpants with legs spread lightly made your breath a little quicker. Taking a deep breath and clearing your throat, you busied yourself with your notebook to keep you from looking at him. “So,” you started, flipping through pages. “We have a few unanswered questions left...”

You couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves at his intense stare, and you mechanically placed a hand on the back of your neck, stretching it out slightly. Lando's gaze followed the movement, his expression softening as he reached out to gently touch your hand, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin. The simple gesture sent a shockwave of warmth through you, the soft brush of his touch awakening a hunger you tried to suppress the whole day.

“Nervous?” he asked, his tone low.

You chuckled, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “Why would I be nervous? It’s not my first time conducting an interview.”

Lando's gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching yours with a depth that made your heart race. "Maybe it's not the interview that's making you nervous," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The air between you crackled with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the room as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin.

Your mind raced with a million thoughts, emotions swirling within you as you met his gaze, feeling as though you were on the precipice of something unknown yet undeniably thrilling. In that moment, all the barriers you had carefully constructed around your heart began to crumble, revealing a vulnerability you had long kept hidden.

“I noticed the way you were looking at me out on the track today,” Lando murmured, his voice husky with unspoken desire. “It wasn't just the photographer's gaze anymore, was it?” His hand lingered on yours, a silent question hanging in the air. “Especially when you crouched down to get those low angle shots of the helmet. I could feel your eyes on me longer than necessary. You didn’t do it because you wanted to capture the shot perfectly, did you?” he continued, his gaze searching yours for any sign of confirmation. “No, you did it because you wanted to be on your knees for me, to be close to me, to feel the heat of my body as you snapped away at your camera. Admit it,” Lando's voice was a whisper, causing a flurry of emotions to swirl inside you.

His words were like a sharp blade, slicing through the air and laying bare a hidden longing that had been bubbling beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged. You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of what he had just said settling in the space between you.

“Even this, you inviting me into your dimly lit room—”

“I don’t like big lights,” you interjected, as you tried to regain some semblance of control over the situation.

But he continued as if you hadn't said anything. “—in your silky pajama shorts and that flimsy tank top that leaves little to the imagination,” Lando said, his voice dropping even lower as he leaned closer, his gaze smoldering.

“I was getting myself comfortable—”

“Of course, you’re smart and already have a reason for everything I point out,” Lando's gaze softened at your words, a flicker of understanding passing between you as he reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness of his touch sent a wave of sensation to travel down your spine, reigniting the fiery connection between you. “But I am your best friend, and I know you. You can try as much as you want, but you can’t hide the truth from me,” Lando murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek as he leaned in, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours. “I know you inside out.”

His words hung in the air, the tension between you palpable as you both teetered on the edge of something unspoken yet undeniably present. And maybe. Maybe he was right. Intentionally or not, you did know he was coming.

In that charged moment, with your heart pounding in your chest, you made a choice. You took him by the collar of his shirt and smashed your lips together. You pulled him with such force that he stumbled forward, but he quickly found balance by taking a handful of your hair and pulling you closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matched your own. The kiss was electric, a surge of raw desire and pent-up emotions finally breaking free. The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the intoxicating taste of him, the warmth of his lips searing through you like a wildfire.

Every touch, every caress, ignited a blazing need within you, a longing that had been buried for far too long. As you melted into each other, the boundaries that had kept you apart crumbled, leaving only the raw, primal connection that bound your souls together.

As the kiss broke, you both gasped for air, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Lando's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of surprise, craving, and something deeper that stirred within his gaze.

“Is this what you wanted?” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the tense stillness that enveloped you both.

“I wanted to kiss you first, but god, you’d beat me to it,” a low chuckle escaped his lips as he spoke. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes, but beneath it lay a raw vulnerability that mirrored your own. In that moment, as you gazed into each other's eyes, you knew that nothing would ever be the same between you.

You reached out to touch his face, your fingers tracing the contours of his jawline as if committing every detail to memory. The room felt as though it had shrunk, leaving just the two of you in your own intimate world where words were no longer needed.

“Then kiss me,” you breathed.

Lando's lips met yours in a frenzy of passion, each kiss deepening the connection that had ignited between you. His hands dug into your shirt, pulling you closer as if trying to erase any remaining distance between you. You responded with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss, a surge of emotions overwhelming your senses.

He picked you up in his arms and carried you to the bed, laying you down gently, your laughter mingling with his in the heated moment. As he joined you on the mattress, his lips trailed down to your neck, your skin tingling at his touch, and you moaned softly as his teeth grazed your sensitive skin. A shiver ran through your entire body, and you arched into him, inviting him further.

He took the invitation, his hands exploring every inch of your body, his touch feather light at times, then rougher, aching to leave his mark upon you. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers traveled over your chest, igniting a wave of heat inside you. Each touch left a trail of fire, intensifying the sensation.

His mouth found its way to your lips again, his tongue darting out to taste you, and you met him eagerly, your tongues twining together in a frenzied dance. The room was filled with the sound of your breaths mixing, your hearts pounding in sync, as you lost yourself in each other's embrace.

Lando's body pressed against yours, his heat searing through your clothes, making your skin feel like it was sizzling. You could feel his hardness brushing against your core, making you moan softly, yearning for more.

Your hands found their way to his back, pulling him closer, needing the intimacy that only skin-to-skin contact could provide. His mouth gently moved down the curves of your neck, leaving a tantalizing trail of kisses that sent sparks of exhilaration coursing through your body. You arched your back yet again, wanting more of his touch, more of his attention.

Slowly, he lifted your shirt, revealing your stomach, and you felt a sudden rush of heat between your legs. His eyes locked onto your bare skin, a hunger gleaming in them. You knew he was seeing all of you, every flaw and imperfection that made you, you. But he didn’t care; he wanted you just the way you were.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the sincerity in his words, and a wave of vulnerability washed over you. This wasn’t just about the physical attraction; it was about the emotional connection you had built over time.

He kissed your stomach, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. You wanted him closer; you wanted to feel his skin against yours. You reached behind you and tugged off his shirt, revealing his muscular physique that you had always admired.

You pulled him closer, and he kissed you again, his hands wandering to your breasts, tracing the outline of your nipples through your pajama top. You moaned softly, arching your back, wanting more of his touch.

He took off your top, revealing your bare chest, and you shivered at the feeling of his rough hands on your skin. He kissed your torso, his tongue darting out to taste you, and you moaned softly, inviting him to explore more.

He trailed his lips down your stomach, leaving a path of wet kisses that made you tremble with longing. You could feel his breath on your thigh, and you knew what was coming. He traced the edges of your panties, his fingers teasing you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Lando looked up at you, his eyes filled with craving. He wanted you more than anything, and you knew it. You were his, and he was yours.

You reached down and pulled off his pants–the damn pants that started all this in the first place–revealing his erection that strained against the fabric. Your fingers grazed it, and he moaned softly, his eyes locking with yours. You could see the need in him, and it made your heart race.

You pulled off his pants, revealing his naked body, and you couldn't help but admire him. He was perfect, every inch of him, and you knew that this was what you had been waiting for. This was the moment you had been dreaming of, the moment you had been yearning for.

He laid you down gently and continued to explore every inch of your body. His fingers traced the curves of your hips, your waist, your thighs, each touch setting off a firestorm of desire within you. You moaned softly, your body arching towards his, craving his touch.

He slid his fingers between your legs, teasing your most sensitive spot, sending waves of delight coursing through you. You gasped, your breaths becoming shallow as you struggled to control the growing want inside of you.

Lando's eyes locked with yours, a mixture of lust and tenderness shining in them. He leaned down and whispered in your ear, his breath warm and sensual, “You are never to interview any other driver, you hear? You are mine. My best friend, my reporter.”

You laughed softly, the sound mingling with his as he skillfully used his hands to bring you to satisfaction. "I don't know, Lando. What if my boss wants me to do another story? What will I say then?"

“Then you do it somewhere I can see you. And you wrap it up, no inviting other drivers into your hotel room cause look what happens,” he quipped, his fingers moving faster, sending shivers throughout your body.

You gasped for air, your body trembling as you felt the waves of pleasure building up within you. You knew that you were close, that you couldn't hold back any longer. “Lando, please,” you begged, your body aching for release.

Lando's eyes met yours, a fierce intensity in his gaze. He knew what you needed, and he was more than willing to give it to you. With a sudden, forceful thrust, he entered you, filling you completely, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body.

You cried out, your breath hitching as each thrust sent you higher and higher. Lando's pace quickened, his body slamming against yours, each movement a testament of his want for you. The room was filled with the sounds of your intertwined bodies, your hearts beating in sync, lost in the moment.

“You feel so good,” Lando panted, his voice low and rough. He reached up, his hands tugging at your hair, pulling your lips to his in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth, tasting you, possessing you.

You wrapped your legs around him, your nails digging into his back, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. Your body ached for more, craving the release that only he could give you.

Lando's thrusts became more insistent, his hips pistoning against yours, each movement driving you closer to the edge. Your breath came in short gasps, your heart pounding in your chest as the ecstasy built up inside you. You could feel the heat coursing through your veins, the desire consuming you.

“Lando, oh god, I'm so close,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. Lando responded by increasing his pace, his body slamming into yours, each thrust sending overwhelming bliss throughout your entire body.

You felt the familiar sensation building up within you, the pressure rising, the heat spreading. You knew what was coming, and you welcomed it with open arms. With a loud cry, you arched your back, your body trembling as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, engulfing you completely. Lando's body followed suit, his thrusts becoming erratic, his voice hoarse as he emptied himself within you, crying out your name.

Your bodies collapsed onto each other, panting heavily, your skin glistening with sweat. You didn't know how long you lay there, lost in each other's embrace, but the moment felt timeless. 

You glanced at him, only to see him sound asleep with a contented smile on his face. You couldn't help but run your fingers lightly through his hair, feeling the warmth of his body and the weight of his head on your chest. But you still had the article to finish and the call from your editor to make.

You gently extracted yourself from his embrace, feeling the cool air on your skin as your body adjusted back to reality. With a tender kiss on his forehead, you whispered, “I'll be right back,” feeling a sense of contentment and a touch of guilt at leaving him there.

You put on a robe and sat down at your desk, using the warm glow of the computer screen to illuminate your face as you typed away, every word bringing you closer to finishing the article. Although he owed some questions to the world, as his best friend you already knew the answers to almost every one. Remembering his words from earlier, you took it to your advantage to finish the article.

As you worked, the memories of the night still fresh in your mind, you couldn't help but recall the way Lando's hands felt on your body, the way his breath grazed your skin, the way his voice whispered husky promises in your ear. It made it hard to concentrate, but you knew you had to be professional.

With the piece finally done, you sent it to your editor, knowing that you had captured the essence of Lando's journey and the excitement surrounding his career. You knew that this was just the beginning of many great things for him, and you couldn't be more proud to have witnessed it firsthand, as his best friend, reporter and maybe something more in the future.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x oc #lando norris x female reader #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris one shot #lando norris smut #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x you #ln4 x y/n #ln4 smut #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x you #formula 1 fic

[joelmillerisapunk]

Free Use, Full Plate

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 1,741

Summary: Joel's frustrated after a long day at work and takes it out on your pussy. Basically just pwp

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, assplay, fingering, f!oral receiving, consentual freeuse, breeding & house wife kink, food waste, reader has hair, breasts, and wears yoga pants. Joel calls reader sexy momma.

Notes: Just a life I wanna live, tysm to everyone who voted in this poll this was the winning vote. Ty @saradika-graphics for the divider.

Joel walks through the front door, tired and frustrated after a long day of work. The smell of dinner cooking fills the air, and he sees you bent over, grabbing a pot, your shirt riding up, revealing the small of your back.

You've had an agreement for a while now - free use, where Joel can take what he needs without any hesitation or resistance from you. It's a release for him, a way to let go of the frustrations of the day without taking them out on anything or anyone else.

As he approaches you, he can feel the tension in his body begin to ease. He reaches out and runs his hand over your shoulder, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his fingers. You don't stop what you're doing, but he can hear your breathing quicken as he continues to touch you.

He pulls your shirt up and over your head, exposing your bare back. He leans down and presses his lips to your skin, feeling you shiver beneath his touch. He unclasps your bra, letting it fall to the floor.

As he cups your breasts in his hands, he can feel himself getting harder. He moves closer, pressing himself against you as he continues to touch you. You're still cooking, but he can hear the soft moans escaping your lips as he kneads your flesh.

He reaches down and undoes his pants, freeing his cock. He slides it between your legs, feeling the heat of your body through your stretchy yoga pants. No matter what was agreed upon Joel never pressured you to dress or look a certain way and it made you feel much more confident in yourself and your relationship. He rocks his hips back and forth, letting himself enjoy the sensation of touching you, even if it's just through your clothing.

“Mmm, Joel, you're home," you say, looking over your shoulder at him with a smile. "How was your day, my love?"

He doesn't answer right away, instead focusing on the feeling of your body against his. He can feel the heat of your pussy through your pants, and he presses himself against you harder, grinding his hips in slow circles.

“Don't wanna think about it. Just tell me what you're makin' baby," he finally says, his voice weak with desire. He slides his hands down your sides, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pants. He pulls them down, exposing your bare ass. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him, getting on his knees and pushing his face right in there, taking the globes of your ass and making them jiggle onto his cheeks.

You giggle at the feeling, but you can't help feeling aroused as his large nose hits some of your folds as he shoves his face in as deep as he can, almost like he wants to suffocate the bad day away. "Just pasta," you reply, focusing on stirring the sauce so it doesn't burn.

He finally stands up and replies, "Smells delicious baby, just like you." he says, leaning down to press his nose into the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale of your sent. “Mmm fuckin’ heaven.” He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back against him as he continues to grind his hips.

You let out a soft moan as he nips at your shoulder. You can feel yourself getting wetter, your body responding to his touch, but you try your best not to let dinner burn. He reaches down and slides a finger inside you, feeling how wet you are. He groans at the sensation.

"Joel," you say, your voice trembling with pleasure. "I'm almost ready to serve dinner."

"That's alright, love," he says, his voice strained with desire. "I can wait."

You turn around in his embrace to kiss him, but he stops you, his eyes darkening. He pats the countertop beside the stove. "C'mon, get up here darlin'."

"But the food." You point at the pan.

"You know, I could eat this whole dinner and still not be satiated in the right way. Now get on the damn counter, you sexy momma. Gonna fill you up real good.”

With those words, you scramble to the other side of the stove, sitting on the countertop. He starts rubbing his hands across your naked thighs, slowly working his way up until his hands reach the center of your chest.

“Come closer, sweetheart,” he whispers. “Wanna taste you.” He leans close then lowers his head and bites the tip of your nipple. Your nipples start to erect instantly, and your core feels tight. “Fuckin’ perfect.” He gets lower so his face is right between your legs.

Your stomach clenches as he kisses your inner thigh. “Joel…”

His eyes look up into yours. He pulls his mouth away just enough from your skin so he can talk, "Worry 'bout the sauce, I'm busy havin' my appetizer." His tongue swipes your clit, licking it gently before he begins sucking on the skin. You let out a soft sigh when his warm tongue touches your clit once more. You try to tend to the dinner currently cooking but it's near impossible to do so with him rubbing and sucking at you. “Keep stirring," he adds with a playful smirk. He slips two fingers between your legs, sliding them into your folds and circling one slowly before he plunges two more in. He starts moving faster. Your orgasm starts building in your belly.

"Mmmm, Joel..." you whine, grabbing onto the edge of the counter, digging your nails into the wooden surface. "I'm gonna come…" You start thrusting against his hand.

Joel stands up, not letting you finish and takes a step back, his eyes roaming over your naked body. "You're so fucking beautiful, baby, I'm the luckiest man," he says, his voice loaded with desire. He reaches out and runs his hand over your breast, tweaking your nipple between his fingers.

You gasp at the sensation, your body already on edge from his earlier ministrations. "Joel, I need to finish dinner," you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I know, darlin," he says, his hand sliding down your stomach and between your legs. He starts rubbing your clit in slow circles, making you moan with pleasure. "I won't let you burn it."

He helps you off the counter and turns you around so you're facing the stove, your naked ass pressed against his hips. He reaches around you and grabs a pan of garlic bread, placing it in the oven. "Now, let's get back to work," he says, his voice low and seductive.

He slides his cock between your legs, the head of his shaft pressing against your wet folds. He starts rocking his hips back and forth until he slides inside you, fucking you slowly and deeply. "Keep stirring, baby," he says, his lips pressed against your ear.

You cry out as he hits that sweet spot inside you, your body trembling with pleasure. "Joel, I'm gonna come," you gasp, your fingers tightening around the spoon.

"Not yet," he commands, his hand reaching around to rub your clit.

He starts fucking you harder, his hips slapping against your ass. You can feel yourself getting close, your orgasm building deep in your belly. "Joel, please," you beg, your voice trembling.

He reaches up and grabs your hair, pulling your head back so he can kiss your neck. "Uh-uh, you wait till I say so," he growls, his teeth scraping against your skin.

Joel continues to thrust into you, his pace steady and relentless. You can feel your orgasm right on the brink, your body feels like it might explode "Joel, please," you whimper, your fingers tightening around the spoon you were supposed to be stiring the sauce with. "Joel, I can't, m'gonna come please," you gasp, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

“Yes you can, baby just a little more,” he says, pulling your hair and kissing the side of your head, holding onto you tightly. “Wanna fill you up, make you round and beautiful.” He slams into you, his balls hitting your ass. You feel juices dripping from his length, mixing in with your own fluids as they drip down your leg and onto the floor. He pushes his hips in harder and harder, causing you to cry out as you feel the intensity of his hard, thick flesh hitting your walls.

You can feel your heart racing as well, your mind clouded with lust and pleasure. "Oh fuck, oh god, Joel,” you pant, squeezing your eyes shut and gripping the edge of the countertop for dear life as you feel your climax building. “Oh Joel! I'm coming'!" You cry out as your body convulses against him. You hear him release a long, loud, gutteral moan, releasing into you.

As you come down from your high, he presses his forehead against your shoulder, breathing hard as he lets go of your hips. He finally pulls out, his cock glistening, soaked with your juices. He turns you around pulling you in close. "I think dinner's ready," he says, smirking.

You laugh and wrap your arms around his waist, "I think you're right," you say, your hands running over his chest. You open the oven door to be met with disappointment. The garlic bread is burnt to a crisp, and so is the sauce.

Joel walks up behind you, "you orderin' or am I?"

You both can't help but chuckle at the situation and decide to order pizza, knowing it's a quick and easy solution. Joel wraps his arms around you as he gives you his phone to search for a local pizza place online, placing the order together.

Once the order is placed, you turn around in his arms, looking up at him playfully pouting, "I guess we'll have to settle for pizza tonight."

Joel leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, whispering, "I'd eat pizza every night if it meant I could come home to you like this."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #dom!joel miller

[astroboots]

Stitches and Claws

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You find yourself in a compromising position on your knees when you help stitch up Miguel's wounds.

Content: Blowjob, riding cock, overstimulation, fangs and claws. Miguel kind of likes his horniness with a little bit of pain? Just a smidge.

Word Count: 3.3k

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

"Miguel, can you please just relax?"

"I am relaxed," comes the sharp reply, as he glares down at you. Jaw so tense, you're surprised his molar teeth hasn't cracked under the pressure.

Your hand comes to his knee, as you spread them wider, and you can feel the plane of his thighs tense underneath your palm.

Yeah, the man is anything but relaxed.

Miguel is still in his suit. Skin covered in dark blue and red. The only part of him not covered in the fancy spandex (and if he heard you call it that he'd be livid, cause it's Unstable Molecule fabric, not spandex) is that scowling face of his and a small patch on the inside of his left thigh. An area the size of your hand that's bare, revealing his tanned skin underneath and a nasty looking injury.

You poise the needle in your hand against the gaping wound. You don't even get the chance to make skin contact with the tip before he's hissing at you like some damned feral cat.

"I haven't even touched you yet. This is going to hurt a hell of a lot more if you keep fighting me."

You probably sound more than a little bit irritated, because this position isn't exactly comfortable. The hardwood floor is digging into your knees, and with hindsight you should've taken the cushion he'd offered you before.

God, up close, that wound look really bad. Four inches in length, red and angry. You're not a doctor. You don't know why the hell you agreed to do this. For all you know you're going to get the wound infected or worse.

"Miggy, I don't know about this, don't you think it's better go to a hospital. What if it gets infected? You'll end up with gangrene and then we'll have to amputate it and then what?"

"That's not going to happen. It's a tiny cut."

"Fine, but I'm not a medical professional and I'm probably gonna make it scar to shit."

"So it'll scar. It'll be your permanent mark on me."

"I'm worried I'm going to mess this up".

"No", he says, shaking his head. "I trust you."

Your cheeks warm at the words, barely able to look him in the eyes after he's said it.

Fuck, he'd have to go and pull that card didn't he?

With a big sigh and bigger reluctance, you dip your head down as you pierce the needle through the skin, threading it across. There's a muffled pained noise from above. The leather of your armchair squeaks as he grips it tight.

A sympathetic ache tugs in your chest at his pain and your hand still against his thigh. "Do I need to stop?"

"No, keep going," he bites out through gritted teeth.

From the corner of your eyes, you catch a glimpse of the pointed edges of his corner teeth protruding against his bottom lip. It's hard to keep your hands still when your fingertips tingle at the sight of them.

Jesus, you need to get your head out of the gutter. This is hardly the time. You persevere, dipping back down for a better view, so you can sew up the gaping wound as best as you can, ignoring the warmth of his firm thighs that are caging you in at your sides.

You try to pretend you don't hear the strained noises he's making. (Noises that are much too similar to the ones he makes when he's the one between your thighs). Practically bury your head into his thigh so you can no longer see the way his broad chest heaves or how he bites down hard on his lip when you make another stitch.

"Stop, stop!" he demands.

His hand grips down hard on your shoulder, pressing you backwards, but you ignore it, because the needle is already halfway through his skin, and for a man who is constantly battling supervillains on skyscrapers with jetpacks and regularly crashes into skyscrapers, he can be such a baby sometimes.

"Miguel, stop, I need to--"

"Enough!" He growls, his hand pushes more insistently, determined to pry you off him until your ass lands on the hardwood floor behind you.

"Let me do it myself."

Let him? Let him?! As if you had forced him to make you do this? This asshole. Swear to god! He's the one who came home in this state, plonked his dumptruck ass in your chair and asked you to help him. He's the one who sweet-talked you with his: "I trust you," when you had soundly suggested he go to the hospital.

He's always like this. Running hot then cold. Asking you to help, then pushing you away in the next second. It's a miracle you don't have permanent neck injuries with the metaphorical whiplashes he keeps giving you.

You drag your eyes upwards, the way he's hunched on himself in your chair, covering his thigh. His face is turned to the side away from you.

You don't know why he's being so unhelpful about this.

Stitching up your superhero boyfriend with a $10 Amazon sewing kit isn't your idea of a perfect Saturday night. But now that you've started you need to finish up with the stitches, you can't just leave it as it is.

"I'm sorry that I went too rough. If I hurt you, I can go slower, okay?"

He doesn't answer you, just drags one large hand over his face. It's only then that you notice that his ears and bits of his cheeks are flushed a darker shade of red than the tanned tone of his hand.

"That's not the problem I'm having," he mutters.

"Well then, can you tell me what the problem is?"

No answer.

Leaning forward, you place your hand back on his knee. That finally seems to get his attention and he removes his hand.

"You said you trusted me right? So let me know what's wrong so I can take care of you. Please?"

For all his obstinate stubbornness, Miguel is just as susceptible as you are to that card. He groans dramatically, collapsing back into the chair with a defeated expression on his face.

His legs shift in the chair, spreading outwards. The arm draped across his lap falls away, and the tight fit of his supersuit does absolutely nothing to disguise the shape of his cock, hard and heavy under the clinging fabric.

Oh. oh.

Clearly you’re not the only one being affected by the forced proximity of this situation.

"See the problem?" he says.

You look up and his eyes flicker away sheepishly. If you didn't know better, and if it wasn't for the scowl still plastered on his face, you might've mistaken him for being embarrassed. If you didn't know better, you might've made the mistake of calling him cute.

You ache between your thighs at the sight of him. But even though there's nothing more you'd like than leap into his lap and fill that ache with every inch of him, there's other priorities right now.

Crawling forward, you shoulder your way back between his thighs and settle there.

"Let me finish," you insist. "If you let me finish, then I'll help you with your problem."

It's an uneven bargain to say the last. Because the reward you're offering him, is something you want more than your next breath, and you have to bite back the 'ohthankyousweetjesus' on the tip of your tongue, when he gives you a small nod to seal the deal.

Maybe it's your newfound incentive, but this time as you pinch the needle between your fingers to stitch him up, it's a swift and efficient ordeal. You refuse to allow yourself to get distracted, eyes focused on your goal, even as you hear him groan above or shift underneath you. Not until the last stitch is done.

When you finally let yourself tilt your head back up. His eyes are pinned on your face, and you can see now that the familiar brown shade replaced by a red tinge.

Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, and you try to keep your eyes fixed on his, holding the contact as you lean forward. Anticipation rides heavy on your spine, as your mouth inches forward, until your lip press against the thin fabric of his crotch, and you nuzzle against the rigid shape of him.

The leather of your chair creaks, and there's a rip. From this angle your view is a bit obscured, but you catch sight of his hands, the firm unforgiving grip he has on your poor armchair. The extended sharp talons piercing through the soft leather in his excitement.

All you hear from above, is a breathy, "Fuck", then the thin fabric separating him from your mouth disintegrates, the dark blue fabric making way for his tanned skin underneath.

Then he's right there. Bare and naked for you to touch. His cock jutting upright between his thighs. He's ruddy and flushed, the fat tip of him glistening with precome that wells from the slit that you can practically already taste on the tip of your tongue.

Your mouth salivates as you part your lips to take him.

To call Miguel thick is an understatement. It's a struggle to fit him in your mouth, your jaw strain with the effort as you slide him further down. As deep as you can, until the blunt tip nudges against the back of your throat and you have to swallow around him in a panicked fit to suppress the reflexive gag pushing back in you.

It's always the hardest the first time. Your mind and throat instinctively fighting you, as you try to swallow down the intimidating girth of him.

"Take it slow nena," Miguel rasps from somewhere above. His voice is a slow and melted hum that drips sweet and honeyed in your veins, and that helps.

You take a deep inhale from your nose, taking in the familiar musky scent of him, and feel your throat relax around him, accommodating to his thickness.

Your thighs ache with arousal. Panties wet and slick as you clench down around nothing. Everything is tightly wound inside you. Your stomach heavy with the dizzying heat as the weight of him rests so fucking perfectly on your tongue.

It's all you can take. You shove your fumbling fingers between your thighs, tugging at the edge of your panties until the obscene wetness greets you and drag it up against your clit.

Relief and pleasure surges through your head, filling your veins with the sensation and you rock into the palm of your hand seeking for more of your own touch.

"Are you touching yourself?"

Your fingers still at the question. You're not exactly embarrassed, it's not like you're doing anything wrong, but you feel sheepish all the same at being caught.

You pull off his cock, letting it slide between your lips and when you finally look back up, he's staring down at you with a dark hunger in those otherworldly crimson eyes like he wants to eat you whole.

"Fuck, come up here," he directs, but you ignore him. Tongue lapping at the tip, savouring the heady taste of him as you run the flatness of your tongue down the length of him.

"Nena," he bites off impatiently. "Up!"

He doesn't wait for your reply this time. So fucking impatient this man.

He's already lunging forward, arms circling your torso as he pulls you up and into his lap with an impressive ease. His arm comes to your thighs, rearranging you to his liking in his lap, one large hand gripping his cock as he positions you above.

"Sit on my cock, nena. Ride me."

Your eyes flit to the poorly stitched up wound on his thigh that looks flimsy to say the least.

"Won't that hurt you?"

His head tilts, brow arching with that sardonic expression of his as if he doesn't see what the problem is. "And?"

This is such a bad idea. But you'd be lying to yourself if you said you wanted to stop now. Instead you settle on a compromise to ensure that you can at least limit the potential damage on him.

"You have to stay still for me, or you'll tear the stitches," you warn.

He nods perfunctorily in agreement and you don't think he's even listening to you. No surprise there, Miguel has never been the best at listening to yours (or anyone's) instructions. He'll do what he wants as he sees fit.

But you can't find it in you to stop. Not when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and the velvety smoothness of it twitch in your grip. Not when you notch the tip of his cock to your slick entrance and can feel yourself dripping down his length.

The only thing you care about is to have him inside you.

You lower yourself onto him, sliding down, inch by maddening inch, as that thickness stretches you to your limits and white hot pleasure invades every one of your cells until you feel drunk on the sensation.

"That's it," he encourages, with a sharp inhale, hand gripping to the sides of your hips. The honed edge of his talons gripping into your flesh, but never breaking the skin.

Your thighs are shaking as you inch down on him until they are pressed flush to his hips, and his cock is kissing that perfect spot deep inside you that has your vision whiten. Thick and sweet.

As promised, he doesn't move. Even though you can tell from the muscle twitching in his jaw, that there's nothing more he wants than to flip you over and thrust into you hard and deep until you're screaming his name with a force that makes your lungs burn out.

You lift your hips, savoring the sweet drag of his cock against your cunt, slow and unhurried until only the blunt tip of him rests inside you and stay there.

"Nena," Miguel says, and the nickname on his tongue sounds like a warning.

He's not a fan of the slow pace you're giving him apparently.

But you've never been one to heed his warnings. Instead you slide down on him, just as slowly, letting his cock fill you at a leisurely pace and it is fucking heaven.

You still as he bottoms up inside you, before you do it all over again. And again. Then again. To each grumpy groan of his that's mixed with pleasure and impatience. Then you do it again.

It's only a matter of time before his short-spanned patience snap. You can practically see it in the furrowed line of his thick brows, as you raise yourself up on his knees. His sharp canines bites down on his bottom lip, breaking the skin and that is all the warning you get before his arms wraps tight around your ribs, knocking the very breath out of your lungs.

Miguel's arms pushes you down flush on his cock, it's strong and demanding. A stubborn grip until he makes sure you've taken all of him to the root. It's blinding you with the force of it, and all you can do as he buries his face, sharp teeth poised at your shoulders, is whine.

Good, it feels so fucking good. The sweet ache of his cock filling every inch of you. You can't think anymore.

You try to raise yourself again on his cock but you wobble, the muscles in your thighs screaming in protest and gives under, unable to lift yourself back up again.

Fuck, you don't know if you can move anymore.

In a split of a second, Miguel straightens up and pulls you into his chest. "So pretty, nena," he groans into your skin, while he ruts up and into you, fucking his cock deeper.

You should probably scold him. Try to stop him somehow, so that he doesn't rip the tenuous stitches on his wound. But you can't bring yourself to open your mouth. Not when it feels this good. Not when aching pleasure is pulling you down under and robbing you of your breath and every word in your vocabulary.

"You feel so fucking good. Stretched so tight around me. Just so fucking pretty when you take my cock."

The sharp edge of his fangs skirts gently across the soft flesh of your throat, and sets every nerve in you alight. Every part of you tingles. From the tip of your fingers to the curl of your toes. That telltale warmth and heat coiling in your stomach and spreads outwards ratcheting up to a fever pitch.

Your orgasm breaks. It rushes over you, hard and punishing. Your body shakes, thighs tensing and your heart is beating hard and fast into a gallop in your chest. You shake and tremble in his lap as it courses through your veins. Lungs squeezed painfully tight as the sweet bliss of it invades your ribs and you struggle to catch your breath.

You still feel it, rushing and pulsing from your stomach down your thighs, it doesn't even have a moment to properly subside.

Miguel doesn't stop. His hands are already on your waist, lifting you up and almost off his still hard cock and you gasp at the shift in pressure inside you. You're clenching down around the fat tip of him reflexively, and there's no time to adjust, no time to think, next thing you know, he lifts his hips while pushing you down on the length of his cock. All in one swift, and harsh, unforgiving motion.

It's so much, too much. You whimper at the next thrust, the whole of your body wracked in shivers as the sensation overfloods your brain. As good as if it feels, you don't know if you can't take much more.

"Keep going, don't stop. I know it's hard nena. I know you're sensitive." he coos, his hands are gentle on your hips, guiding your movements, but for all his sweet cajoling words, and for all that you're struggling he's not easing up.

"Keep going. Keep squeezing my cock like that and I'll fill you up. I'll fill you up with every drop of me."

He keeps encouraging you, as if you have any other choice but to take his demanding thrusts. As if there is anywhere for you to go with how firmly he's holding you to him.

Fuck you can't, you can't-- oh fuck, you're--

Your arms scramble to grab onto something, anything, fingers digging deep into the firm muscles underneath.

It's chaos.

He thrusts up again. Deep and demanding and your brain shortcircuits.

Sharp electricity surges through your spine and it is blinding. All you can do is hold on to him, to claw on and hold for dear life, or you're pretty sure you're gonna fall off the edge of the earth into oblivion if you lose your grip.

Distantly, you hear him hiss in your ear, feel his hips stutter up against yours, cock pulsing inside of you, but you're too far gone to piece it all together.

All you know is that you're coming again or maybe you never stopped and this is that first orgasm still wreaking havoc on your body. Maybe it'll never stop. The sensation feels like a punch to your gut, consuming and all at once. Your eyes must cross behind your head, because your vision goes dark and blank, wiped clean of thoughts. The room seems to tilt, and crash then disappear. There's no weight to your limbs, and your thighs are so numb, you're not even sure they are there anymore. Your body is not your own.

When you come to, you're still perched on his lap. You feel like wrung out and boneless, body spent and broken. His arms wrapped around your torso the only thing that's keeping you upright.

The arms of your leather chair have been scratched up to hell. Long claw marks brandishing each side.

He looks like an absolute mess. Brown curl a deranged mop on the top of his head, sheen of sweat over his tanned skin. But he looks good, messy. Looks fucking beautiful in a way that has your chest squeeze tight when you gaze at him.

Miraculously, the stitches on his thigh has held up somehow and you feel more than a little ounce of pride of your own sewing skills at the feat.

Your hands slide off of him from where they're still gripping on tight onto him and Miguel's eyes follow the motion to his biceps where your nails have broken through skin. The tiny crescent marks looks red and raw and painful.

"Shit, Miggy I'm sorry."

He blinks up at you, eyes a little bit dazed before he breaks out into a smile. He raises his arm and looks at the mark with a pleased and admiring expression one filled with pride.

"I hope it leaves a scar," he says.

Dedication & Credits:

For @thirstworldproblemss who had to listen to me figure this one out, I'm still trying to find my voice for Miguel so sorry if this is a bit clunky for you.

Also dedicated to @guruan whose artwork literally inspires me to write/think/breathe smut 24-7 like a 7-eleven store. It's always open for slut business here. This artpiece with the spread thighs definitely inspired this oneshot.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #oscar isaac #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fic #across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 #spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you #marvel #spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse

[spiderlyla]

Waking up next to Miguel would go a little like this:

It's early, too early.

The sun is still rising, and the cold breeze of dawn is seeping through the cracks in your balcony. Birds are chirping outside, singing a soft lullaby, alerting the neighbourhood about the rising sun, and beckoning people to wake.

And awake, you were.

It took you a little bit to get over the initial confusion that occurs when you first open your eyes. The room was dimmed enough for you to see everything but was not bright enough to hurt your eyes. The sheets felt extremely warm, the mattress was extremely soft, and the pillows were fluffy enough.

Something is weighing down on your stomach, though it was not pressuring. Your eyes flutter slowly, and you look down to see tufts of messy, black hair blocking your vision.

A smile creeps onto your face, and your hand involuntarily moves to touch his hair. A deep hum erupts out of him, and when he moves, you find those reddish-brown eyes boring into yours.

You don't know how long he's been awake, but it couldn't be long. He looked rather groggy, yet you swear you could stare at him for hours.

He looked rather rugged now. The toll work took on him this month was very obvious, you could tell by his unshaved stubble, by his uneven hair, his tired eyes.You could feel your cheeks heating up, you could never get used to this sight.

"Buenos días..." His voice reverberated in your ears, so low and deep it made you feel all sorts of ways. He moved before you could answer and hoisted himself up using his arms, pinning you to the bed underneath him.

He was not wearing a shirt. The scars on his body were a little visible under his slightly hairy chest. He gained a few more of those since you last saw him, and if it weren't for the fact that you were currently mesmerised by the fact that he was so much bigger than you, you would've voiced your concern or even scolded him for not taking better care of himself.

Good thing for him, you were distracted.

"Sleep well?" He asked, pressing his soft lips to your temple. It was a habit of his now. Even on his busiest of days, he would still give you your very much needed morning kiss.

You didn't reply, only gave him a little hum and wrapped your arms around his neck. Miguel chuckled, lowering himself gently so he could rest on your chest while looking up at you. His hands were on your waist, thumbs mindlessly swiping over the same spot over and over.

And it feels so right this way. His weight on you, the soft sheets smelling of sleep mixed with his cologne, the birds chirping and tapping on your window.

"Don't go to work," He glances up at you, his expression softer than you've ever seen it. "...please." His voice does not surprise you, but his request does. Miguel was never a man with little pride, nor was he someone who liked to ask for anything, so his little plea was very surprising, to say the least.

"It's not until a few hours—" You try to explain, but he scoffs immediately, displeased.

"It's not that, I'm telling you not to go at all today." His grip on your waist tightens just in the slightest, but his gaze is still soft. "I want you to stay." You pause to think for a moment, but you had already decided as soon as you heard him utter those words.

After all, you'd be a fool if you left the bed, leaving such a striking man to be by himself.

"Okay." He finally smiles, his pearly fangs protruding and pressing on his lower lip. He adjusted himself, and you suddenly found him beside you instead of laying on you, arm spread to welcome you into his embrace, and you take the opportunity you were given.

Being against him is comforting. It makes you feel safe and warm, like nothing could ever hurt you. And you knew full well nothing would, he wouldn't allow it.

You find yourself being lulled back to sleep by his steady heartbeat and the smell of his musky cologne. His hand ran up and down along your spine before stopping at your waist and pulling you even closer.

Your eyes involuntarily close, and just before you could slip into sleep again, you feel those lips on your forehead.

"Dulces sueños, Amor." [Sweet dreams, love.]

#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #astv #lumi talks ♟ #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o hara #spider man atsv #miguel o #miguel fanfic #miguel o' hara #miguel atsv #bimbo reader × miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o hara smut #miguel spiderman #miguel x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o hara fluff #fluff