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toxicanonymity · 9 months

Note

omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!

EVERY INCH 2

2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader

follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3

SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his. A/N: He's never unmasked so ANY Ghostface with a 🍆. Thank you so much for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of the engagement & enthusiasm so keep that in mind. night walks coded. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, ghostface calls himself daddy once, peeping tom, dirty talk, masturbation (both), knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names (baby, sugar, nasty). NO USE OF Y/N.

You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day. You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror. He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .

Yeah, his cock. You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry.

It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie. You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted. You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone. Your phone is still on silent from the theater.

The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"

"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you.

You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."

"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."

"What do you want?"

"I asked how you liked the movie."

Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight. "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively.

"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . . Missed a great kill."

Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion.

He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”

"wishful thinking," you reply.

Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”

You’re not even going to argue.

“How was your date?"

"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.

"You didn't look interested.”

"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.

"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”

You freeze.

He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"

You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"

"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.”

You scoff.

". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"

"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."

"Pervert."

“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.

"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.” His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special. “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”

You look out your window, which faces the woods. "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains. You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you.

“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?”

Are you that predictable?

“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly. His breathing becomes audible. “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . . . .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on.

“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.”

Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal

“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” You lie there clenching your thighs together.

“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together. “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on.

“Yeah, that’s it . . .”

You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast.

He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.

You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock.

"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.”

He’s right about that. You close your eyes as you touch yourself. You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?

“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.”

"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.”

You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core.

“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?”

You turn up the intensity of your vibe.

“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl. Swallowed it right up.”

“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”

“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.

“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops.

“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”

You’re getting close. “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting. You need a shower.

—---

You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.

“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.

“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”

You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears. There’s nothing you can do. You squat down, hugging your knees. There’s no good option.

The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.

“My turn, baby." The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment. Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked. He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see.

The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you. One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife. He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.

He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”

You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.”

“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower. He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak.

He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle. “Coulda had it how ya wanted.”

The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen.

“Now you’re gonna take it right here.” He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down. “You’ve put me behind you after all.” He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick. He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.

“Who are you?”

“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.

“What do you want?”

“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds.

He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh. You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it.

The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now. He pants as he thrusts into you harder. “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel.

“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly. “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.”

He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.” He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you. You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own. Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load. He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core. You can’t help but moan and sigh.

“Good girl,” he says.

His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants.

------

Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on. He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.

“Now where’s my knife.”

“I don’t have it,” you claim.

“I don’t believe you.”

“What’s so special about it?”

“It’s mine.”

“The cops have it.”

“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”

You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe. You look behind him toward the toilet.

He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.

NEXT: PART 3

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Please engage (reblog/comment) if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.

Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.

Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹

@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.

Slasher master list

@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07

#ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #mickey altieri x reader #billy loomis x reader #ethan landry x reader #ghostface x you #slasher fanfiction #danny johnson x reader #cw noncon #slasher smut #tw noncon #ghostface #slasher fucker #toxicanonymity ☠️#mickey altieri #ghostface ☠️

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xbellaxcarolinax · 9 months

Text

Futile Devices

Miguel O'Hara x civilian f!reader

Summary: The deal was explicitly no strings attached. You were finding it harder to keep up your end of the bargain.

Word Count: 8.2k (A behemoth of a fic, I'm so sorry guys)

Warnings: FWB, language, angst, reader is totally in love with Miguel, Miguel being a bit of an ass, probably a tad toxic? SMUT, p in v (no protection), cum play, low-key breeding kink? Like super low-key. Oral (f receiving). Miguel climbing through windows. Idk why I'm obsessed with that thought lmfao I make him climb through windows every chance I get. Idiots in love. Probably a rushed ending, sorry!

Thanks to @whatthefishh for beta-reading. Partly inspired by this.

Also, this is mega ultra cliche, we all know they're gonna end up together, so just enjoy the ride! It's not the destination, it's the journey 😌 Hope you guys enjoy, and if you do, pls let me know what you think! I love reading your comments!

MDNI pls.

...

It was always a mission getting to Miguel's office.

Headquarters wasn't built to accommodate civilians, the winding pathways and corridors a danger if one wasn't too careful.

You had to be extra careful.

You hurried toward Miguel's office, heels clicking against clean tiled floors as you dodged a fuck ton of spider people and the inescapable attention of one annoying Peter Parker.

"Come on," Peter Parker number two hundred tried his luck again, "just one date. I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go."

"No." You rolled your eyes, swatting him with the manilla folder in your hands like you would a fly.

“Look, all I’m saying is you should give me a shot. I’m funny.”

“So is every other Peter Parker I’ve encountered.”

“I’m different.”

“I doubt it.”

He deflated, keeping up with your quick steps. “Who doesn’t like funny guys?”

“Me.”

“Sure,” he stretched the word out, unconvinced, "so if not funny guys then what? The ones with sticks up their asses, like Miguel?" He snorted with a shake of his head. You knew it was a sort of rhetorical question but you couldn’t help swallowing thickly, your hands gripping the folder a little too tightly.

Yeah. Something like that.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach when Peter Parker two hundred raised his brows at your silence. So maybe he did want an answer.

"Nah, there's no way. I'll try again tomorrow." He smiled, shooting a web out in some random direction and swinging off toward the floor above.

Fuck. That was close.

You breathed a sigh of relief, loosening your fingers over the folder before quickly hurrying toward your destination.

You pressed your watch against the sensor outside of Miguel's office, waiting for the metal door to slide open. It didn't. You tried again. Still nothing. Again. It wouldn't budge.

"Ugh, come on, Miguel!" You banged the door with a tiny fist as if that would make a difference, "open up!"

Lyla appeared suddenly, her sprite-like form circling your head once before she faced you.

"You probably shouldn't go in there," she warned, "he's in a…mood."

"He’s always in a mood," your hands were on your hips now, the manilla folder crinkling further in your hand, "I need to report a couple of grievances—"

"Mmmmmm, I'm sure that's the last thing he wants to hear right now, Miss HR." God you hated when they called you that. You rolled your eyes, swatting her away with the folder which did nothing, of course, and pressed your watch against the sensor.

"That's not gonna work, honey."

"So let me in."

"Promise to be nice?"

"To who?" You snorted, "You or Miguel?"

"Me," Lyla grinned, adjusting her heart-shaped glasses, "forget Miguel."

You sighed, cracking a smile, "Lyla, would you please let me into Miguel's office?" The Ai made a noise of approval, comically saluting you before granting you access.

"Don't say I didn't warn ya." She sang, disappearing from your sight.

You sighed. Miguel's shifting moods were nothing new to you—not anymore. Back when you both worked at Alchemax, he was passive and less quick to anger. But that seemed a lifetime ago.

Life progresses. People change.

“Mig?” You called out, peering up toward his solitary platform. You could hear the soft hisses of machinery, the yellow glow of Miguel’s holo screens illuminating the area above like a radiant star.

He didn’t answer.

“Miguel,” you tried again, “we have some things to discuss.” You slapped the manilla folder against your hand as if he’d recognize the sound of formal complaints filed within the last week.

The platform began to descend after a moment, and you breathed a sigh of relief as his figure came into view. His shoulders were stiff, his body rigid as he swiped through the yellow screens.

“I told Lyla not to let anyone in.” His voice was cold, frigid even. He didn’t bother to face you, his eyes pinned to his screens as he leaned forward, the muscles of his back flexing through his suit.

You couldn’t see what he was looking at but you could hear it: the soft giggles of a little girl, the cheers of a soccer game, the chuckles of a man now broken. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard the sounds of Miguel’s past. It probably wouldn’t be the last either.

“I-uh, got some reports to share with you.” You felt foolish. Lyla was right. HR complaints were the last thing on Miguel’s mind.

“Reports of the anomaly on Earth 9811?” Your brows pinched in irritation. He knew those weren’t the reports you had. You were fucking HR, not on active duty, let alone a spider person.

"No, you'd have to ask Jess or Gwen about that, but you need to listen—"

“I don’t want to hear it.” He grunted. You saw his hands form fists at his sides, the same hands that’d fisted your sheets in the throes of pleasure just days ago.

You shook your head. It was not the time for that kind of thought.

You carefully opened the crinkled folder, pulling out the paperwork you’d printed from your antique printer to read aloud from it.

“Peter Parker of Earth 5431-02 has formally filed a complaint,” you began, your eyes scanning the black text before releasing an exasperated sigh, “he’s saying you threw a chair at him?” Miguel grunted, the holo screens shutting off at his (Lyla’s) command.

“He’s an idiot.” Miguel snapped, finally turning to face you, his sharp features shadowed by the lack of light. He regarded you carefully, red eyes tracing your figure. You’ve grown used to the way his eyes lingered over you, especially when you were under him, his body pressed against yours, but sometimes you couldn’t help but squirm under his more severe gaze.

“Well, yeah,” you reluctantly agreed with a tilt of your head, “but a chair, Miguel?”

“It’s not like it hurt him...badly.”

“That's not the point."

“The point is that I got my point across.” Miguel snorted.

"It's the principle. You don't go around throwing fucking chairs at the people who work for you!"

"Mhm."

"You're their boss! What kind of behavior is that?"

"Uh-huh."

You were about ready to strangle him but knew your fingers couldn’t even go around his throat properly. You’ve tried before, under very different circumstances. You settled for pinching the bridge of your nose, as he often did, taking a breath to calm yourself before you completely lost your shit. "Listen to me."

"I'm listening, HR."

"Ugh, look," you pointed a finger up toward him, your brows knitted in obvious irritation, "annoying or not, he's still a member of the Spider Society, therefore, he has every right—”

“—to file a grievance under any circumstance as a result of an injustice, discrimination, or harmful behavior, and is to be given the respect to which every spider person is due as a valued member of the society. I know.” Miguel finished the legal jargon for you, hopping off the platform with an ease that’d always surprised you.

He stepped into your space, his large body casting a long shadow over you as he snatched the crinkled paperwork from your hands.

“I’ll speak with him.” He grunted. You pursed your lips, watching as his eyes scanned over the page.

"Make it right, Mig. Apologize. Formally. Or informally. It doesn’t matter— there’s nothing normal about this place anyway.” You placed your hands on your hips as you leaned forward, aware of how he was suddenly gazing down at you. “Just be nice, okay? Compensate him with, I dunno, a minor mission. He always wants to get involved, so let him.”

Miguel rolled his eyes, heaving a great sigh while running his hand through his hair. “Fine.”

“And no more throwing chairs to make a point.”

“Uh-huh, fine, anything else?” God, you wanted to smack him. You opted for snatching back the paperwork from his hand, smoothing out the wrinkles over your skirt-clad thighs before searching for the proper page.

“Yeah," you brought a finger down on the page, "the spiders are getting bored of the cafeteria food.” That was enough for Miguel's face to pinch in displeasure.

“What’s wrong with empanadas and churros?” He scoffed, waving his hand to dismiss the complaint, “And that stupid blue burger with my face on it?” He paused, eyes squinting for a moment, “You know what? That can go. Get rid of it.”

“Fine. Do I have permission to organize a survey?”

“For food?”

“Yes, for food. They want options.”

“Aye, por Dios,” Miguel grunted, waving his hand again, “Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Anything else?”

“Nope.” You organized the documents back into the manila folder before handing it over to him.

“You know you could just send this electronically, right?” He looked down at the folder, his eyes tracing your neat cursive in black ink.

“I’m old-fashioned.” You shrugged, turning on your heels. You heard him snort out a laugh, a tiny thing that made you smile. He has a nice laugh.

“One more thing,” Miguel called out, demandingly. You looked over your shoulder at him as he regarded you with heavy eyes.

“What is it?”

He boarded the platform once again, the machinery coming to life and slowly elevating him back to his preferred height. He tossed the folder somewhere over the desk, to be forgotten. It was the least of his worries at that moment.

You watched Miguel ascend above you like some kind of heavenly being, the yellow light of the holo screens illuminating his tan skin till he glowed molten gold. You waited on him with bated breath, his response sinking straight to your core.

“Keep your window unlocked tonight.”

…

He loves it when you ride him.

His large hands were glued to your hips as you bounced on him expertly, your cunt soaking him in your sticky juices.

Most nights began this way—with Miguel's cock buried deep in your pussy after a long day of enduring his insufferable attitude. You'd fuck the stress out of him—fuck the astronomical weight of the multiverse off his shoulders if only for a few short hours.

"Been thinking about this all day." He groaned under you, throwing his head back over your pillow when he felt your walls grip his length viciously, fighting to keep him in.

"Yeah?" You gasped, your hands firmly planted on his bare chest as you made work of your hips, rotating them in delicious circles—the way he liked—your thighs spread wide to accommodate his massive size. "W-wasn't enough to curb that a-attitude though, huh?"

Even amid the utmost pleasure—of Miguel's length hitting a spot that had you trembling—you found the strength to taunt him, your hazy eyes catching a glimpse of the twitch in his brow. That meant trouble.

Within seconds Miguel had you on your back, his imposing body trapping you against your mattress. His cock slipped out for a moment but he had no problem finding his way back into your slippery channel, snapping his hips strategically to reach as deep as he could.

You cried out, your hands scrambling to find purchase over his shoulders, your pretty manicured nails digging into his perfectly golden skin.

"F-fuck! Miguel!"

"Wanna say that again?" He growled, his face hovering mere centimeters from yours, "Go ahead, say it again." You did nothing but whimper as he pounded into you mercilessly, his cock stretching you open.

"That's what I thought." Miguel chuckled smugly, delighting in your little chokes and stutters, egging him to keep pounding you relentlessly. You tried speaking—tried to articulate your words to him, but you couldn't, too cock drunk to focus on anything else but his gorgeous face twisted up in pleasure and his thick cock kissing the secret place within you.

He had you coming soon after, stars exploding behind your lids as you trembled in his arms. Your cunt squeezed him just right and he came, panting in your ear as he filled you to the brim.

His spend stained your sheets when he pulled out, and as always, he watched it dribble out from your swollen cunt with lidded eyes. He wasted no time in taking his fingers and stuffing the mess back in.

“Keep me in there.” He muttered, swiping through your puffy folds one final time before he ripped himself from you. You immediately soured, keeping your gaze on him as he quickly cleaned himself off with a cloth you left for him on your nightstand.

You admired his figure: the ripple of his muscles as he moved, the broadness of his shoulders, the glow of his skin in the dim lighting of your bedroom.

Miguel was gorgeous. You’ve always thought so.

His suit glitched before coming to life, covering his sculpted body in the usual blue and red you've come to know.

“Did…you want to eat before you go?” Dinner was on the stove, cold but still good. You sat up against your headboard, more of his spend leaking out as you fiddled with your fingers over the soiled sheets.

Miguel shook his head, sighing as he closed his eyes for a moment.

“I have to go.” He said, stepping forward, grabbing your hand, and placing a chaste kiss over your knuckles. It was the only form of affection he’d allowed himself to give you. He’d never kissed you before. Probably never will. It wasn't part of the deal.

Your heart sunk, your skin searing where his lips had lingered.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Most nights ended this way—with your aching cunt full of his seed and your eyes wet with unshed tears as you watched him leave through your window, disappearing into the night.

…

A few days later, Peter B. Parker landed in your office. Quite literally.

He plopped down on the seat in front of yours from seemingly nowhere, a messily packed diaper bag hanging loosely from his shoulder. He had his daughter snuggly pressed against his chest in her carrier, her chubby arms and legs flailing over his pink robe.

You yelped, dropping the pen in your hand, clutching your chest in freight.

“Jesus! Where the hell did you just come from?!”

“Up there.” Peter pointed up. You followed his line of vision, noting the door to the air vent busted open, barely hanging from its hinges. “Sorry about the vent.” He offered sheepishly, taking a large bite of a slice of pizza he'd pulled from a greased-up brown paper bag.

"You could've just taken the elevator!"

"Takes too long to get to the basement.” He said between a mouthful of pizza, “Why'd Miguel give you an office down here anyway?"

"I'm scared of heights." You reminded him, watching Mayday struggle to release herself from her carrier prison. Peter snorted out a laugh, dropping the diaper bag on the floor while simultaneously taking another bite of his pizza.

“Doesn’t make sense to work in a place like this.”

“It was the deal I made when Miguel asked me to work for him. Chew with your mouth closed.”

“Have you tried the cafeteria pizza?" He asked suddenly, ignoring your demand and speaking with another mouth full of the greasy treat, "It's the new thing. Everyone's going crazy."

You smiled smugly. "I know. You’re welcome."

“Ah, I should've known Miss HR was behind this!” You rolled your eyes at the nickname, rummaging through your drawer before tossing him a few napkins.

“What can I do for you, Peter?”

Mayday whined, crawling out of the carrier and over her father’s thighs. She hopped on your desk, scattering some of your paperwork. You quickly caught her before she tumbled off the edge, cooing at her before placing her in your lap. You squeezed her in your arms and she let out a scream of delight before squirming, reaching out in wonder at the different knick-knacks on your desk.

“Right, almost forgot." Peter took the last bite of his pizza, wiping his face and fingers with the napkins you provided before his face morphed into something serious. "Is this guy bothering you?” He pulled out a yellow holo pad, one presumably given to him by Miguel, revealing a video of you and Peter Parker two hundred from the other day.

You blinked, your eyes tracing the moving image carefully.

”Oh. Not really,” you finally said, ripping your gaze away from the screen, “Nothing I can't handle. Why?”

“Miguel asked me to investigate the situation discreetly.”

"Asked?"

"Well, demanded, you know Miguel," Peter shrugged, reaching down into the diaper bag and procuring a lollipop when Mayday began to whine, “he’s concerned. I figured it’d be easier to just ask you about it.”

You frowned, grasping the sweet when he handed it over to you, pulling off the wrapper and placing it in Mayday's chubby hand, “That’s hardly discreet.”

“I didn’t wanna follow the guy around!”

“He's making you do that?”

“‘Of course he is. Doesn't like the guy. He barely tolerates me!”

You snorted. “Why does Miguel even care?”

"You know him better than any of us do. If anyone would know, it’s you."

Well, that was true.

You knew Miguel before he created the Spider Society, before he was ever Spider-Man. You knew him before his addiction to Rapture, before he experienced fatherhood, before he lost Gabriella.

Back when, to the world, he was just some guy in a white lab coat.

But he was never just some guy to you.

You’ve loved Miguel for years. You’d loved him in your early days at Alchemax, when he was fresh out of college and eager to begin his shaky career, back when you were hanging on to the corporation by a measly thread of an unpaid internship. You were a pair, stuck to each other like glue.

A few years later, when you both decided to take it a step further and mess around, well, that only ignited your feelings further. Miguel was an attentive lover. He knew your needs and fulfilled them, taking you to the heights of pleasure before humbling you just as smoothly with his strict rules about your agreement.

He didn’t have time to cater to someone's feelings—didn’t have time for a romantic relationship when he had too much on his plate. But his sexual appetite demanded attention—and why not with someone he’s called a friend for years?

You were just a friend. And that’s all you’d ever be.

It was just sex. That's all it'd ever be.

“You okay?” Peter ripped you away from your thoughts, his brows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You answered with a sigh, gently resting your chin over Mayday’s soft curls. “Is Miguel worried?”

“You’re the closest thing he has to a friend, of course he’s worried about you. Those were his words, not mine.” Peter shrugged, putting his holo pad away, “so is there a cause for concern?” The thought alone almost made you smile. Almost. Instead, you scoffed, shaking your head.

“I’m usually the one that handles these situations, you know.”

“And who’s supposed to help you?”

“I don’t need help.”

“Right.” He didn’t seem convinced. “Miguel doesn't seem to think so. You sure?”

“Very.”

“Alright, I did my part!” He clapped his hands as if he’d successfully completed a mission, “Time to go, Mayday!” He stood, grabbing the babbling baby from you and placing her back in the carrier.

"She's precious." You said, gently pinching Mayday's drool-covered cheek as she teethed over her lollipop.

"Takes after her dad." Peter grinned, snatching up the diaper bag, "Listen, if you ever need any help—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, get outta here, Parker." You shooed him away, quickly organizing your wrinkled paperwork together. You could still feel his eyes on you as you kept your hands busy, and when you finally looked at him he had a silly smile on his face.

"What?"

“You guys are idiots." He was still grinning.

"What?"

"Nothin'," he said, pressing a kiss to Mayday's red curls, "Just do me a favor. Don't mention any of this to Miguel, alright?"

You crossed your arms, leaning back against your swivel chair. "Sure."

...

"So you think I need help?"

Miguel's hands immediately stilled on your hips as you stirred the boiling pasta over your electric stove.

You didn't hear him come in, but you had a feeling he’d show up. It had been a couple of days since he’d fucked you, and there were many stressful days between then and now.

So you’d left your window unlocked just in case.

"What are you talking about?" He muttered, his fingers lightly dancing on your waist before pulling away completely.

"Nothing." You huffed to yourself, cutting off the heat and getting on your toes to reach for the pasta strainer on the shelf above. After a second of watching you struggle, Miguel put a hand on your shoulder to stop you, reaching forward to grab it for you.

"Doesn’t sound like ‘nothing’.” He finally said, observing you strain the pasta over the sink, the steam from the hot water engulfing you both in what felt like a thick cloud of tension. You peered over your shoulder at him, your eyes raking over his solid form.

“You know, Peter Parker two hundred?” You asked, witnessing his face contort from passive to extreme annoyance.

He sucked his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. He leaned back against your counter, looking so out of place in your tiny kitchen, his broad shoulders almost the entire width of your cupboard. “I told Peter to be discreet.”

“He said you’re worried about your only friend.” You continued to tease him, emphasizing the word as you lifted the lid to a pot where a homemade Pomodoro sauce was bubbling.

“I said that?” Miguel muttered, feigning innocence, watching you take a spoon and scoop some of the red sauce for a quick taste. You could feel his gaze on you, his eyes tracing the way your tongue licked off the remnants of sauce.

You hummed in approval before scooping up some more and turning to offer Miguel a taste. You lifted the spoon toward him, and after a moment of contemplation, he hunched forward with arms crossed over his toned chest, mouth opening slightly to allow you to press the spoon past his lips.

His eyes fluttered as he savored the rich taste, humming his own tune of approval.

"Is it good?"

“Mhm.”

You beamed, eyeing how he licked his lips like a satisfied cat, his fangs protruding slightly when he ran his tongue over them. The same fangs you’ve felt over your delicate skin from time to time.

Miguel was a biter. You didn’t mind.

Miguel grunted, using his thumb to wipe off a bit of sauce that lingered near the corner of your lips. You inhaled a shaky breath, your eyes fluttering from the heat of his touch.

"What else did he say?" He murmured, looming over you, his hand now gently cradling the back of your neck, thumb caressing your skin.

"T-that you're worried about me?" You breathed. Miguel pulled you closer suddenly, the faintest noise of surprise escaping you. His suit always felt strange under your fingers, the digitized fabric almost slippery, like fine silk. It was ridiculous how perfect you felt wrapped up in his arms. You sometimes wished he'd show up in civilian clothes. You missed his lazy outfits when he'd throw on an old t-shirt and a pair of sweats.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd seen him in anything other than his suit (and his naked form, of course). It meant he was always on the clock, devoting all his precious time to the multiverse.

It meant that whenever he was alone with you, he considered it work.

And yet, the suit made you feel secure and safe—like nothing in the world could harm you. And there was truth to that, though the only thing harming you these days was Miguel himself. But that was your fault too.

The deal was explicitly no strings attached. You were finding it harder to keep up your end of the bargain.

You gazed at his full lips. You desperately wanted to taste them, to know how soft and warm they would feel molded against yours. If you were brave enough you might have stolen a taste, might have felt those sharp canines for yourself on your tongue.

Miguel’s thick fingers trailed into your hair, gripping the roots with just a hint of pressure, his lidded eyes taking in every part of your face: your brows, your eyes, the bridge of your nose, and your supple lips—wet and swollen from biting them so damn much.

"Maybe just a little," he finally answered, his shoulders shifting in a slight shrug. You could feel his length press against your hip, hot and throbbing, demanding attention.

It filled you with pride knowing your proximity was enough to get him excited. It shouldn't though. It was only arousal. Basic primal instincts.

You shouldn’t be feeling pride for any of this. You had to remind yourself of that.

You closed your eyes, willing your heartbeat to slow down just a bit. Could you really be this love-sick? So hung up on a man who was emotionally unavailable? If you hadn’t fallen before, then you knew you were plummeting now, so far gone that you’d let Miguel do anything to you.

So when he whisked you away to your bedroom, dinner long forgotten, you didn’t put up a fight.

He fucked you from behind.

It was a tight stretch, your wet cunt fighting him as he tried pressing his swollen tip in with little luck.

"Gotta let me in," he grunted, spreading your cheeks wide to gaze down at your twitching holes, "you're too tight. Let me in."

"I'm trying," you panted, tears in your eyes as you buried your face into the sheets, "i-it's been a while."

"It's okay," his large hands caressed the globes of your ass in comfort, "it's my fault. Haven't been fucking you enough, hm? S'my fault." Miguel rubbed his cock through your soaked folds a few times, the obscene noises of your sopping cunt causing him to grunt.

"Goddamn, so fuckin' wet." He muttered before lining himself up and carefully pushing in again. You cried out, fisting the sheets when he successfully got the tip in. He groaned, the guttural sound masking your tiny mewls as he pushed on, your wet cunt coating him entirely in your sticky essence, easing his entry just a bit.

"Fuck, Miguel, it h-hurts." You whined, the stretch of him both painful and pleasurable as he bullied his way in, his girthy cock plunging through your fluttering walls.

"Shh, I know." He rarely cooed as he did now, reassuring you with gentle noises and tender touches as he eased into you, balls deep in your core, “Look how good you’re doing for me. S’good.” A fresh wave of arousal dripped from you at his praise, your fluttering cunt allowing him to push and pull as he pleased.

He began a steady rhythm, holding your hips tightly to work you over his length, muttering to himself all the while as he watched how your creamy juices clung to his cock and covered his skin.

The pain quickly subsided into blinding pleasure. Miguel had you mewling into your mattress, your eyes rolling and drool slipping past your lips, your back impossibly arched, and your swollen cunt wetter than it’s ever been. The slapslapslap of his hips against your ass was loud in the quiet of your bedroom, your moans even louder when he skillfully hit something inside you that made you see stars every single time.

You loved the feel of him, loved the stretch of his cock, loved how your cunt would ache for days after as if to remember him.

“Coño,” Miguel growled, keeping a large hand on your lower back to keep you steady in your arched position, “you sound so pretty when I fuck you.” He suddenly gripped your hair, pulling you up as he curved over you, continuing to spill filth into your ears.

It was too much.

“M-Miguel, I’m g-gonna—”

“Cum for me.”

That was it. The dam burst within you, your eyes rolling back as you cried out, cunt spasming and gushing all over him.

“That’s it,” he muttered, sloppily thrusting into your tightening core, “good girl.”

“Miguel,” you continued to whine, grinding against him, “Fuuuck, I love you.”

You didn’t even realize what you said until it was too late, so wrapped up in the bliss of it all that your mouth worked faster than your brain could think.

You froze when you felt him still above you. He released your hair, bringing his hand back to your hips before gripping them viciously, chasing his own release. He rammed into you faster, slamming his hips against your ass one final time before letting out a guttural groan deep from within the confines of his chest. You could only imagine how he looked: tan skin glistening, chocolate hair plastered against his brow and head tossed back in pleasure.

Miguel said nothing as he gently removed his cock from your aching sex, letting his seed dribble out from you and soak into the sheets.

As soon as you turned around he was already in his suit, pushing a few buttons on his watch before he brought his wine-colored eyes to you.

"I have to go."

“Mig?” You whispered his name softly, your naked body burning with embarrassment, “I-I’m sorry I—”

"I’ll see you tomorrow.” It was the same thing he always said, but it hurt twice as much. It was as if he were on autopilot, disconnected from what just happened.

You felt your heart plummet into your stomach as you watched Miguel leave through your window with a speed he usually reserved for missions.

His spend caked your thighs. There was so much of it coming out of you, more so than usual, his cum ruining your sheets enough that you’d need to change them before bed.

You sniffled, eyes watering, tears threatening to fall. He didn’t even kiss your hand goodbye.

You ripped yourself away from the soiled sheets, stomping over to your window as his cum leaked down your inner thighs before slamming it closed, locking it for good.

...

“You made this?” Miles exclaimed with a mouth full of spaghetti, clumsily twirling another forkful over his paper plate. You were handing out some of the spiders' leftover Pomodoro pasta from the previous night. You’d lost your appetite. It’d be a shame if you let it all go to waste.

“Yeah, eat up, there’s enough for everyone.” You scooped out more pasta from a Tupperware and onto a paper plate for Gwen. The younger girl’s eyes sparkled as she grabbed the plate, immediately slurping up a bite.

“Oh my god,” she muttered, lips covered in red sauce, “why are you working at the Spider Society when you could be a chef?”

“It’s because Miguel begged her to work here,” Miles quipped, a lone spaghetti hanging from his mouth.

“And who told you that?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Uhh,” his eyes flew over to Peter B., who was waiting patiently for his own plate of pasta to be served. You turned and narrowed your eyes at Peter, who chuckled nervously.

“Listen,” he began, hands thrown up in surrender, “the kid got curious, okay? He was convincing, I mean, look at those eyes.” You huffed, snatching Peter’s plate and loading it up with pasta.

“You guys are annoying,” you muttered with no bite, shifting your gaze toward Hobie, who sat quietly with his legs thrown up on the table, “Hobie, fuck the government and all that, but you need to get your dirty boots off the table if you want some food.”

Hobie sighed dramatically, letting his boots drop to the ground.

“Fine, boss lady.”

Satisfied, you handed him a plate.

“So, let’s talk about you being a chef?” Gwen tried again, scrapping the remaining bits off her plate.

“It’s just pasta,” you shrugged, pulling out a chair and taking a seat, “anyone can make a Pomodoro.”

“My dad can’t.”

“…why?”

“He’s Irish.”

“And a bloody cop,” Hobie interjected, twirling his pasta with a plastic fork, “hate those.”

“Here we go,” Gwen huffed, the beginnings of an argument forming. You chose to ignore them, letting Gwen, Miles, and Hobie bicker between themselves.

You squirmed in your seat, crossing your legs to cure the throbbing within. You could still feel Miguel, the stretch of his cock, and the inevitable ache that lingered afterward. You were still full of him, your cunt wet even hours later, plaguing you with the thought of never feeling him again.

You drummed your fingers over the messy table littered with paper plates and napkins, your body hunched forward, lost in thought.

“So…” Peter began, adjusting the collar of his pink robe, “you gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to force it outta you?” You whipped your head to look at him, brows furrowed as you regarded him.

“What makes you think something’s going on?” You whispered, hoping the cafeteria was loud enough so the rest of the table wouldn’t hear.

“Something’s going on or you wouldn’t be whispering,” Peter whispered back, his blue eyes pinned to yours as he searched for answers.

“It’s nothing.” You answered quickly, continuing to squirm in your seat, fighting to ignore your achy cunt.

“Did you guys finally smooch?” You froze, your hands gripping the edge of the table with a force that made your knuckles go white.

“Peter, what the fuck are you talking about?” You hissed, watching him happily eat his Pomodoro.

“You think I don’t know?” He challenged, “It might not be obvious to everyone else but I know what’s going on.” He winked at you, dabbing a napkin messily over his mouth.

Your heart was pounding, ready to beat out your chest, but you schooled your features as best you could. You swallowed thickly, crossing your arms over your chest as if to make yourself smaller.

“Okay, fine, you know. What of it?”

“Miguel’s being mopey.”

“Mopey?” You snorted, shaking your head, “He’s always mopey, isn’t he?”

“This is a different kind of mopey,” Peter raised a brow, “it’s actually kind of… frightening.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s got nothing to do with us, for once. Usually one of us pisses him off enough to throw things but he’s on a mission. Said he needed to clear his head. So what happened?” You sighed, shoulders sagging.

“I might have said something I wasn’t supposed to last night.”

“What?”

“We made a deal,” you explained in a whisper, “no feelings, just…you know,” you wiggled your fingers, hoping it would be enough of an explanation. Peter nodded, urging you to continue, “Well, I messed up.”

“How?”

“ItoldhimIlovehim.” You blurted out, your hands flying over your mouth. Peter blinked with a subtle tilt of his head, before a grin stretched over his lips. You groaned, now covering your eyes, “W-what is that, why are you smiling? Stop it.”

“I mean, one of you had to say it first.”

“Peter, you’re killing me here.” He rolled his eyes, inching close enough till your knees brushed against his.

“You don’t think the big guy feels the same way?”

“No!” You squeaked incredulously, “There’s no way. You should’ve seen him yesterday. He could barely look at me!”

“You caught him off guard.”

“I know that, but he still could’ve said something. Anything.”

“He’s a guy. Guys are stupid.” You groaned, pushing your hair out of your face. You turned to look at the other spiders. You knew they’d been listening given the way they all turned away immediately.

“Someone is stupid,” you muttered to Peter, feeling dejected, “and it’s definitely not him.”

...

You took a deep breath before placing your watch over the sensor.

The door to Miguel’s office didn’t budge, not to your surprise. Lyla must have blocked the systems again.

What were you even doing there?

You hadn’t seen Miguel in about a week. That was ample time to inform you he wanted nothing to do with you. You couldn't blame him but still, it was…unprofessional. He was your boss at the end of the day.

Maybe you shouldn’t have started fucking the head of the Spider Society. Your weak heart wouldn’t be in shambles if you didn’t.

It was a stupid move, you knew, telling someone you love them in the throes of passion when they clearly weren’t on the same page, unprovoked or not. He probably hates you. He must.

You’d given yourself enough time to think it through and given yourself so many pep talks before deciding a professional relationship with Miguel was for the best. No more friends with benefits.

No more keeping your window unlocked.

You took a breath and tried again. No luck.

Did he fire you? That couldn’t be right. You were still in the system and able to enter HQ with your keycard just fine.

“You’re always catching him at a bad time,” Lyla sighed beside you, whipping out her tiny little holographic phone, “he didn’t even want to take a photo! Unbelievable!” The small image on her screen revealed a snarling Miguel, clearly unamused by the bunny filter plastered over his face. It was cute, even if he looked a bit terrifying baring his fangs.

Lyla shifted to face you, hands on her little hips as she looked you up and down.

“You look niiice,” she quickly snapped a photo of you, “no cute filter needed.”

“Uhh, thanks?”

“Now it’s your turn to say something nice to me.” The Ai grinned when you rolled your eyes.

“You look…extra yellow today, Lyla.”

“Thank you! I’m in default mode.”

“Okay, so I’ll just come back later then?” You rushed to leave but Lyla stopped you, zapping in front of you suddenly.

“Nah, I’ll let you in.” You could hear the door to Miguel’s office opening, “Fix him.”

“What? How am I supposed to do that?”

Lyla shrugged, “I dunno, I just know you’re the only one that can.” She waved farewell, disappearing in a glimmer of gold.

You groaned, dropping your head in your hands for a moment to collect your thoughts. Your palms began to sweat—they always did when you were nervous—so you quickly wiped them over your black pencil skirt before facing the office entryway.

It was dark as usual, the only light illuminating the area was Miguel’s bright yellow screens. They hung above him as he sat slouched in his chair, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. His head turned lazily to regard you.

“I heard you’ve been mopey.” You began, cracking a smile when he snorted. He shook his head, watching you slowly approach him like one would a wounded animal. He didn’t confirm nor deny the accusation.

“What do you need?”

“To talk to you.” You said, finding the courage to step into his space, leaning back against his desk and blocking one of the yellow screens.

“About?”

“Us.” Miguel hummed, running a hand through his messy hair. He sat up in his chair but said nothing else, allowing you the space to speak freely.

“I-I wanted to apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable,” you began to fumble with your fingers, unable to keep eye contact with him for very long, “I know that what I said was…crossing the line—”

“Did you mean it?” He asked abruptly, the question forcing your eyes away from your fingernails and toward his chiseled face. He looked exhausted, eyes heavy but swimming with curiosity.

“W-well, I mean, it was a moment of—”

“Did you mean it?” He repeated, his tone stern as he awaited a proper answer from you. You bit your lip, slowly nodding your head.

“Yeah. I did. Still do.”

The silence that stretched wasn’t very long but it felt like an eternity. Miguel only stared at you, his jaw tight as he sat forward, his elbows resting on his toned thighs.

You wished you could read his thoughts, take a peek at what ran through his mind. He was always so good at hiding his emotions, never showing an ounce of what he felt. That wasn’t always the case but after Gabriella, he didn’t show much of anything.

“I think it’s best we don’t see each other anymore,” you finally concluded, crossing your arms, “we should stop.”

“What?” Miguel’s eyes narrowed, “What do you mean stop?” He was towering over you in a matter of seconds, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at him. Your heart was pounding, your hands flying to grip the edge of his desk.

“Mig, we can’t keep doing this.”

“Yes, we can.” He caged you in his arms, bringing his face just a few inches away from yours. He never had much of a problem with eye contact, but you did. You chose to look at his collarbones and the large swoop of his shoulders. It was intimidating and arousing all at once and you weren’t getting anywhere with this speech, were you?

“We can’t. Not when we’re not on the same page.”

“Who says we’re not?” You felt his fingers graze the side of your face, pushing a lock of your hair behind your ear. You turned away, squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the familiar prick of tears behind your lids.

“Stop playing with me.” You said, pushing him away with little luck. Miguel shifted slightly at your touch, watching you rub at your eyes.

“I’m not.”

“Then why have you not said anything for a week?” You hissed, the frustration threatening to boil over, “You’ve left me agonizing over this for a week, Miguel!” You wiped furiously at your cheeks, catching a few stray tears. “I’m such an idiot.”

Miguel grabbed your wrists in his hands, yanking them away from your face. His concerned eyes met your wet ones, a frown tugging at his lips.

“Stop.” He demanded, taking your flushed face in his hands and wiping the wet streaks away with his thumbs. “Don’t say that about yourself.” You glared, cheeks puffed and swollen from the pressure of fighting away tears.

“Fine,” you snapped, ignoring the way he stroked your cheeks, “you’re the fucking idiot.”

“I am,” Miguel agreed with a sigh, refusing to release you, “I didn’t know what to say. Thought you might have been lying—don’t look at me like that.”

“You’re pissing me off.”

“I know, beba.” The endearment startled you for a moment, your glossy eyes peering up at him as a rush of excitement settled in your stomach. He’d never used endearing words with you before. It had you stumped for a second before you remembered yourself, your brows furrowing in irritation

“Why would you think I was lying? Mig, I’ve loved you for years, you buffoon!” Miguel loomed closer with every word before he kissed you, silencing you effectively. Your eyes fluttered, your lips unresponsive at first until he coaxed you into a gentle rhythm.

Kissing Miguel was so much softer than you imagined.

You thought he’d be all tongue and teeth, desperate to devour his victim. His kisses were syrupy and deliberate, steady and reassuring. He was taking his time learning the shape of your lips, the plumpness, how perfect they felt molded against his.

“I’m sorry, beba,” he said between kisses, letting you snake your arms around his neck to pull him closer, “perdoname. I’m an idiot.” You hummed in agreement, continuing to assault his lips sweetly. You couldn’t stop kissing him if you wanted to, sneaking your tongue past the seam of his lips to taste more of him.

He growled, tightening his hold on you, allowing you to taste at your leisure. He tasted fresh, like the spearmint gum he always had on hand.

“Perdoname,” he repeated, wanting so desperately for you to forgive his transgressions, slotting himself between your legs.

“Yeah? You’re sorry?” you teased, feeling the familiar ache of arousal blooming in your core, “show me how sorry you are.” Another growl ripped from him, animalistic and provoked. He wasted no time, pushing you down so that your back was flat against his desk and your legs were wrapped around his hips.

He pressed a button beside you and suddenly, the platform began to elevate.

“Mig,” you sat up in a panic, but Miguel only pushed you back down, lifting your skirt up till it pooled over your waist, “w-why are we moving up?”

“Privacy,” he grunted, spreading your legs, running his thumb over the soaked patch of your panties. Your hands scrambled to find purchase on something over the desk, your heart hammering in your chest as the ceiling seemed to loom closer.

“Y-you know I’m scared of heights!” You squealed when the platform came to a jutting halt, squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t even want to think about how high up you were.

“It’s okay,” Miguel purred, gently rubbing your clit through the fabric, “you’re safe, you’re with me, beba, no tengas miedo.”

“M-Mig, please,” you didn’t even know what you were begging for at that point, you just needed something, and whatever that was, he gave to you. You felt him push aside your panties, and you finally spared him a glance, almost choking at the sight of him mesmerized by the sweetness between your legs.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he muttered, slipping a finger through your folds, “you dripping all over my desk.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, easily ripping your panties apart before getting on his knees, “smell s’good.” He muttered, licking a stripe up with his fat tongue, scooping whatever mess you made. He moaned at the taste before completely diving in, eyes closed and large hands keeping your trembling thighs spread for him.

As always, you were a whimpering mess for him, mewling with every precise stroke of his tongue. It was the first time he’d done something like this, and god, it was nothing you could have ever dreamed of.

He moaned into your cunt, the gentle vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. You trembled and whined with every loud slurp of his mouth over your clit, his tongue swiping over your precious bud before working his way down to dip inside your hole.

“Fuck, Miguel,” your hands flew to his hair, your fingers weaving through the thick strands to keep his head in place. He skillfully nipped and licked the surface, lifting his face away slightly to spit into your cunt, watching it run through your puffy folds with lidded eyes before devouring you again.

“You taste fucking amazing,” he groaned, sucking your clit between his lips.

You threw your head back, letting out the prettiest moans for him. You forgot about everything, about where you were and how high up you were from the ground. You couldn’t care less as long as Miguel continued to eat from you like a madman.

You could feel the tension in your abdomen, the clear sign that you were close. Miguel continued to drink from you, slurping obscenely at the fresh arousal that dripped into his mouth.

“Close?” He asked, giving you kitten licks, his hands squeezing your thighs encouragingly.

“God y-yes, so close.” You could feel him smiling against your folds before starting up a vicious rhythm again with his eyes closed.

With a loud cry, you came into his waiting mouth, your back arching and body withering over the table from the overstimulation. Miguel licked and sucked every inch of you, determined to catch every drop of your orgasm.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, releasing your grip from his hair and draping an arm over your eyes. Miguel stood, removing your arm and leaning over your fatigued body. He looked down at you with intense red eyes, his mouth and chin completely covered in your slick. You bit your lip when a smile curved at the edges of his lips before he swooped down to kiss you.

You moaned, completely aroused all over again from your own musky taste on his lips. He slipped his tongue in your mouth, allowing you a proper taste.

“Perdoname.” He begged again over your lips before gently brushing the tip of his nose against yours. You giggled, pushing him away slightly so that you could sit up on your elbows.

“Mm, I don’t know,” you teased, “you’re gonna have to try again.” Miguel shook his head, tapping a button on his watch, and allowing his suit to vanish. You gasped at his sudden nakedness, your eyes glued to his throbbing erection. Miguel grinned, fangs bared, tapping his cock over your sensitive cunt.

You closed your eyes as he immediately pushed in, moaning as he worked himself into your tight channel.

In your euphoric state, you barely registered him grabbing your hand and placing a chaste kiss over your knuckles, whispering over your skin. Your ears picked up a few words, some naughty and some sweet, but your heart fluttered and your chest tightened when you caught the last two words before he began pounding into you.

“Te amo.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #spider man 2099 #atsv #across the spiderverse #spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse

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mulletmitsuya · 5 months

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Toman Groupchat

Warnings: swearing, the topic of sex is brought up a lot, mentions of the r word (i don't actually say it i just say "r word"), gayness, mentions of depression, mentions of suicide, teenage boys. also snuck in a lot of personal headcanons so that might not be your thing

Desc: Mikey lost his V-card

Mikey: just had the sex

Mikey: it's not all that, tbh

Mikey: i didn't like it

Mikey: i was quite indifferent to the situation actually

Mitsuya: that's great 👍

Smiley: you're the last one to lose your v-card and you come back with a report like this?😒

Smiley: we want details

Draken: whose we?

Mitsuya: no we don't

Chifuyu: it must have been difficult tackling the whole issue with you being 5'3 and all

Mikey: you're an inch taller than me😐

Chifuyu: "taller" being the key word

Baji: what didn't you like about the sex?

Baji: i think sex is great

Kazutora: i think it's super nice until you get in over your head and freak out about your performance so you end up having a panic attack and she just leaves

Smiley: LMAOOOOOO

Draken: that's actually kinda sad, you good?

Kazutora: no? i'll never emotionally recover. never again

Baji: maybe it should be with someone you trust and have been friends with for a number of years. maybe even your best friend who would do anything for you. that's just my opinion tho

Draken: just tell him ffs. anything but this

Kazutora: i have no girl friends?? the only women i know who're affiliated with this friendgroup are hina (taken), emma (mikey's sister and also taken), and yuzuha (gay)

Baji: why does it have to be a girl

Mikey: bro

Hakkai: 💀

Smiley: mention homosexuality once and here Hakkai comes

Hakkai: 😐

Kazutora: Baji i know you're gay and i support your lgbtq+ lifestyle but i'm not into dicks like you are man

Baji: what about assholes

Mitsuya: what's the point of this, like just ask him out atp

Mikey: you'd let KAZUTORA top???? insane

Kazutora: what's wrong with me topping? also who am i topping??

Smiley: well you're a twink so you're obviously a bottom

Chifuyu: Kazutora are you actually just gonna ignore what everyone else is saying

Kazutora: aren't you guys talking to Baji?

Draken: are you stupid or what

Kazutora: i'm really confused rn can we just to back to talking about Mikey

Mikey: yes actually. i've decided that i don't like sex and won't be doing it again

Chifuyu: bad day for Takemitchy

Takemitchy: what?

Chifuyu: well since you ride his dick so much

Takemitchy: HUH

Takemitchy: i've never done that with Mikey-kun tho??? i'm with Hina? also I'm straight so I don't understand what you mean by that 😥

Chifuyu: i don't actually mean-

Chifuyu: nvm

Baji: are we allowed to call people the r word anymore

Angry: no it's a slur

Baji: you're probably mad because people said it to you huh? lmao

Angry: yes

Baji: oh

Smiley: i didn't even mean it Angry it was just that one time

Angry: several, one times. but okay

Angry: i still love you

Smiley: can you not say that in front of our friends like idk what to do rn cause i can't say it back so it looks embarssing for you

Angry: 😕

Smiley: ...

Angry: ☹️

Smiley: i love you too

Angry: thank you

Chifuyu: very rare Smiley human decency moment

Draken: you guys are such weird siblings but that was great to watch. character development in a matter of seconds

Smiley: you should all kill yourselves

Mikey: man i really want to

Mikey: that was a literal joke before you guys get weird

Draken: you've actively tried to kill yourself tho

Mikey: yeah but like i won't do it anymore

Baji: we must just, believe you?

Mikey: i know that's hard to do because i lie all the time but yes

Draken: not a convincing argument but nice try

Mitsuya: terrible try actually. Mikey should we be worried?

Mikey: miss me with that gay shit, i'm fine

Mitsuya: i hate you guys so much

Draken: not me tho cause i'm your og

Mitsuya: 😐

Mitsuya: yeah i guess

Draken: 🤞

Draken: i'm gonna go out with my girlfriend now

Draken: also Mikey you're probably asexual. or you haven't found the right one to do it with yet idk

Mikey: what's asexual

Draken: google it

Mikey: Ken-chin c'mon i'm having a crisis rn

Draken: basically low or very little sexual attraction to others

Draken: there's a whole spectrum to it tho so you should probably do some research because that was an extremely watered down explanation

Draken: i'm ace too if that helps

Baji: Emma's a whole ass slut so how does she deal with that

Smiley: imagine bagging Ryuguji Ken with his sexy ass and he doesn't wanna smash. tragic

Draken: first of all, Baji i'll fucking kill you, never say that about Emma again

Draken: and fuck you Smiley

Angry: are you traumatized because of living in a sex orientated/obsessed environment so you eventually began to detest any affiliation with the act?

Draken: yes actually

Angry: i see

Mikey: i just don't like it. i'm not traumatized like Ken-chin :(

Draken: it's whatever

Baji: calm down i didn't call Emma a slut as an insult i just mean it as a describing word because she likes fucking

Baji: i've known her longer than you and she's been fucking since she knew what the thing was

Mikey: i probably should have addressed that as an older brother or something

Mikey: yk, cause i take care of my family

Baji: now she takes care of you with your chronically depressed ass

Mikey: 😒

Kazutora: is Emma also traumatized? like the opposite of Draken?

Mikey: wait should i ask?? her mom did abandon her and she did grow up without a father figure so like maybe i should talk to her

Smiley: you didn't have to dish out her problems like that 💀

Baji: she's got the Sano slut genes because wasn't Shinichiro falling in love with different people everyday? then your dad was impregnating people all the time. skipped Mikey tho

Draken: not everything is trauma related. also Emma just likes sex. it's not a huge deal breaker and if it was she would tell me and we'd talk about it

Mikey: what about having kids?

Draken: stop asking me this shit we'll do that when we're ready

Smiley: it's crazy how Draken is one of the healthiest people here. always reacting sensibly to situations and dealing with his trauma normally. he's such a good guy. hate him

Draken: love you too

Mikey: did he deal with it all that healthily if he beats people to a pulp most of the time

Draken: i stopped doing that

Baji: why though, you were an actual unit

Baji: wasted talent. i still beat people up

Draken: Emma said to

Mikey: fair

Smiley: Mitsuya could be on Draken's level too but something went wrong along the way cause he's a boy liker

Mitsuya: 🖕

424 notes · View notes

nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 25 days

Note

okay hi just a warning rq my autocorrect is off bc it autocorrected my friend’s name to fuckin malayalam on accident. i dont like autocorrect.

ANYWAY! ive been listening to my lovely olivia rodrigo lately, specifically her new song obsessed. i wanted to know if you could make a fic with Ethan x fem! reader where readers bitchy friend has this ex (Ethan) and she made him out to be a real dick. like, manipulating and everything.

reader eventually meets him and it turns out that she remembers… a lot about him considering her friend is a constant yapper and cant shut up about him. Ethan actually turns out to be a real cutie patootie and could literally never hurt anyone.

a few days later theyd meet again at some club or party maybe where they end up hitting it off… a little too well.. yeah so she ends up in his bed (smut part, very dom ethan plspls 😛😛). they could be talking about something really random and then reader brings up how her friend basically completely lied about him and said he was a piece of shit when he really wasnt. like a realllll fluffy end before a small cliffhanger thats never gonna get finished where her friend ends up finding out and texting her.

so sorry if thats too long or confusing idk but i actually love your work so much im lowkey your #1 fan. 😍😍😍

HELLO! I switched this up a little, I hope that's okay! 💕

Also, I fucking loved the 'leave it on a cliffhanger part that won't get finished' because WHY IS THAT WHAT I DO lmao

Obsessed - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 1

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Part 2

Summary: Your friend told you horrible lies about her ex-boyfriend, and once you get to know him, you realize he's not the monster she made him out to be.

Contains: Mentions of a toxic relationship, Dom-ish cocky Ethan, rough-ish sex, oral - f receiving, p in v, fluff (If I missed anything, PLEASE let me know. I'm sleep deprived atm)

A/N: This was the one that pulled me out of my writers block, lmao. It's still not where I want it to be, but I'm TRYING. I'll try to post more this week, but I will be busy so bear with me haha.

You didn’t know Ethan Landry, but you knew you didn’t like him. He used to date one of your friends, and after hearing all the horrible things he’d said and done during their relationship, you thought he was really scummy.

They dated in high school and couldn’t get enough of each other, so they wanted to go to the same college. They broke up right before freshman year started, and after almost a year, she still talked about him every chance she got. She’d tell you how controlling he was. The things he’d call her when he was mad. How he cheated on her. You couldn’t believe that she stayed in the relationship for as long as she did, because she never had anything good to say, except that she loved him.

You’d seen pictures of him, and after walking into one of your classes at the start of the new semester, you saw him in person for the first time. He was so shy as he took his seat in the lecture hall, some of the girls making their little comments about the rumors they’d heard about him. He didn’t seem like the type that would do the things your friend said, but maybe he was just really good at playing innocent. All you knew was that you needed to keep your distance from him.

When you met up with your friend later that day for lunch, you didn’t know if you wanted to bring up Ethan being in the same class as you, but once she brought him up, you decided to tell her.

“Speaking of Ethan…I saw him today,” you said, before taking a bite of your food. Her face dropped as she looked at you.

“Where did you see him?” she questioned. You explained that you saw him in one of your new classes, and she rolled her eyes. “Can you believe he still tries to text me?”

“What I can’t believe is that you haven’t blocked him,” you said, “I know I’d hate to see someone that treated me like shit’s name pop up on my phone.”

She started to giggle as you curiously stared at her. “I have him saved in my phone as ‘Tall loser with a small dick’, so I laugh every time he does text me.”

“That’s not toxic at all,” you said, as you started to think about what she’d said. “Wait, he treated you as bad as he did and has a small dick? What the fuck were you thinking?”

“All he had going for him was that he was cute,” she said, “But seriously, if I were you, I’d stay away from him.”

“Oh, please. Like I’d even want to be near him.”

Your morning wasn’t going as expected. You slept through all of your alarms; you didn’t have time to stop for coffee. You didn’t think your day could get any worse, until you walked into class and noticed the only empty seat available was beside Ethan. You took a deep breath before you walked over and sat down. Once you reached into your backpack, you realized that your laptop wasn’t there. You were in such a hurry when you ran out of your dorm and didn’t even think to grab it.

“Shit,” you whispered, “I’m so stupid.”

“Here,” Ethan said, passing you a notebook and a pen. You curiously looked at him as he offered a weak smile. “I always keep an extra notebook, just in case.”

“Thanks,” you said, a half-smile playing on your lips.

Once class started, you were taking your notes, but you kept glancing over to Ethan. He was so focused on typing that he didn’t notice, but you couldn’t help but wonder if everything your friend told you was true. At that moment, he didn’t seem like a jerk. Then again, he had only spoken a handful of words to you.

Ethan was aware of all the things that were said about him. He hoped that after a few weeks it all would’ve blown over, but once you have an angry ex-girlfriend paint you as some horrible, emotionally abusive asshole, it’s hard to come back from that. He knew that it was best for him to just keep his head down until he was able to transfer to a different school, where no one knew who he was. He was miserable at Blackmore, and he really had no reason to stick around, aside from the few friends he’d made.

After class was over, you tore the pages of notes you’d taken from the notebook to give it back to Ethan.

“Thanks again,” you said, as you handed it back to him.

“You’re welcome,” he said, shoving it back in his backpack. “I thought about just emailing you my notes, but I didn’t know if you’d want that.”

“You’re telling me I didn’t have to spend the last hour trying to write that fast?” you asked, as he flashed you a sweet, genuine smile. “Why wouldn’t someone want that?”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because most people here hate me,” he said, sliding the straps of his backpack over his shoulders. “You’ve probably heard things about me.”

“Yeah…are they true?” you asked, as he shook his head.

“You’re the first person that’s asked me that. Everyone else just assumes everything is true,” he sighed, “But no, I’m not a bad person.”

You started to feel so guilty. You’d said plenty of bad things about him, but you only heard one side of the story. With your friends’ story changing so many times, getting more dramatic each time she told it, you were starting to realize that it was all bullshit. You still didn’t know exactly what happened, but you were curious to know what the truth was.

“You okay?” Ethan asked, noticing that you were lost in thought as you stood in front of him.

“I’m friends with your ex,” you said, as his smile slowly fell. “What’s the real story?”

He sat back down in his seat as the other students piled out of the room. You sat beside him as you waited for him to speak.

“I really loved her…but she was just so controlling. Then she cheated on me when she went to the beach with her family. I didn’t find out about that until right before we started college,” he said, looking over to you. “She was pissed that I broke up with her, then all these horrible things about me started going around.”

“That’s fucked up,” you said, as he nodded.

“Yeah, she’s still been trying to text me. I finally blocked her a few days ago.”

“Wait, she said you’ve been trying to text her,” you said, his eyes growing wide at your words.

“Her number’s been deleted from my phone for months. I have no interest in talking to her,” he said, “I know this must be weird for you since you are her friend, but I think it’s cool that you wanted to hear me out.”

“Well, I feel like I need to apologize…I’ve said some things about you that weren’t true.”

“She’s a good liar. She has almost the entire school hating me so it doesn’t surprise me that her friend does, too,” he said, as he stood back up.

“I don’t hate you,” you said, smiling at him. “I don’t know if you’d want to, and I know she’d kill me, but if you ever want to hang out sometime, let me know.”

“I’d like that.”

Ethan was kicking himself for not asking you for your number, or shit, even your social media so he could DM you. He thought you were beautiful, but he knew that hoping for a chance with you would be a reach. He really just needed more people in his life that believed him to make the time he still had at the university more enjoyable.

Your friend begged you to come to a random frat party that you didn’t feel like going to in the first place. After your talk with Ethan, you weren’t even sure you wanted to be around her. You still went, and after searching for her for almost an hour, you checked your phone to see a message from her that she wasn’t coming, and that she ran into one of the guys she’d been hooking up with on the way to the party.

“Why the fuck am I even here?” you said to yourself as you locked your phone and slid it into the back pocket of your jeans.

“Hopefully to hang out with me, if your offer’s still good,” you heard from behind you, recognizing Ethan’s voice.

“Hey,” you said as you turned to face him. “I didn’t expect to see the most hated man on campus here.”

“My roommate told me that if I stayed in my dorm tonight, he’d throw my Xbox out the window,” he said, glancing over to the muscular guy that was watching Ethan talk to you.

“Ah, so you were threatened into being social,” you said, as he started to laugh.

“I guess you could say that. Do you want a drink?”

“Sure.”

Ethan wasn’t much of a drinker; you could tell by the sour look on his face every time he took a sip. It gave him a little confidence though, as the two of you talked and got to know each other a little better.

“I don’t think I can drink this anymore,” he said, sitting the cup down on a table. You sat yours down too, and as soon as you did, someone bumped into you, shoving you into Ethan.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you said, looking up at him. Your chest was pressed closely against his, his hands on your hips from catching you.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, “You can stay this close to me all night, if you want.”

“Are you always this smooth? Or is it the alcohol?” you questioned as he smirked at you.

“I’m only buzzed,” he said, before he leaned down, placing his lips on yours.

Chad was still watching Ethan from afar, cheering and thrusting his fist in the air once he saw Ethan kiss you. He started to laugh against your lips before he pulled away to stare daggers through his roommate for interrupting the moment.

“I can’t take him anywhere,” Ethan said, as you smiled at him.

“We could go somewhere more private,” you suggested, as he took your hand in his.

“Want to go back to my dorm? He’ll be here for a while so I know we can talk without being interrupted.”

“Sure!”

Once you made it back to Ethan’s dorm, you were starting to think that he really did just want to talk. You enjoyed listening to him, though. He was telling you about all his hobbies and interests, and you were telling him yours. You started to glance around his side of the dorm room, noticing the cliché, dorky things you’d expect to see.

“Nice Star Wars poster, nerd,” you joked, as he smirked at you.

“Oh, I’m a nerd?” he said, as he nudged you back on his bed. He was hovering over you, his mouth inches from yours. The sexual tension got so thick as his eyes looked into yours, his hand rubbing your hip.

“Mhm,” you said, the corner of your bottom lip in between your teeth. “A hot nerd.”

He felt his cheeks start to heat up, and he really didn’t want you to notice, so he leaned down to finally connect his lips to yours. It didn’t take long for the kiss to get more intense, his tongue brushing across your bottom lip. You let him deepen the kiss, his tongue moving with yours as his hands started to roam. You whimpered into the kiss once his hand squeezed your thigh, your hips started to squirm underneath him.

He pulled away but still stayed close so the two of you could catch your breath. You were reading each other’s faces, and it was obvious that you both wanted more.

“How far do you want this to go?” he asked, his breathing still heavy as his eyes looked into yours.

“As far as you want,” you said, your sweet tone making him groan.

“That’s not what I asked you,” he said, as he leaned back down to kiss your neck. His curls were tickling you, but the only reaction you had were the soft moans slipping past your lips from how well his mouth moved. His hips were rutting into yours, showing you how hard he was for you.

“I want you to fuck me,” you said, as he pulled away to look at you.

“You sure?”

“Mhm.”

Ethan was a little, well, very eager. He got you undressed in what felt like seconds, leaving you in just your panties. Once he stripped down to just his boxers, you got a little curious. You glanced down to see his hard cock straining against the fabric, and started to laugh to yourself, your gaze going to the ceiling.

“What’s funny?” he asked, as he hovered back over you to take one of your nipples in his mouth. Your laughing stopped, a gasp slipping out when he started to suck. “I asked you a question,” he teased, before moving to the other side.

“She really does lie about everything,” you said, as his tongue swirled. “She said you had a small dick.”

He started to laugh against you, before he pulled back. “That’s funny, because she couldn’t take it.”

“I can,” you said, his smile turning to a smirk as his hand trailed down your body to rub you over your panties.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, as he moved lower down the bed to position himself between your thighs.

He slid your panties down your legs, before running his fingers over your wet pussy. Your eyes stayed on him, your bottom lip in between your teeth as he teased you. Your anticipation just kept building as he moved down the bed, positioning himself in between your thighs. He leaned in, slipping his tongue inside your entrance.

He was sloppily eating you out, his head moving from side to side. His arms hooked under your thighs to pull you as close to his face as he could as your hands went to his hair.

“So good,” you whimpered, your breathing getting faster as he worked you closer to your orgasm.

He slid his tongue out of you to focus on your clit, quickly replacing it with two of his fingers. Your back was arching off the bed as he moved his arm back and forth, applying as much pressure as he could to that spongy spot inside you as he sucked on your swollen bundle of nerves.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you babbled, as he started to chuckle with your clit in his mouth.

That was all it took for your legs to start shaking and your grip on his hair getting even tighter. Once your pussy started to clench around him, he slowed his fingers to a slow roll, not wanting to overstimulate you. His tongue gently licked your clit as he worked you through it, your whimpers getting softer as you came down from your high.

“That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you admitted through your shaky breathing. Ethan started to laugh a little as you looked at him, your eyes hazy. “What?”

“Just wait until I’m inside you,” he cockily said, “You still confident that you can handle it?”

“I know I can,” you said, your legs instinctively spreading wide for him as his fingertips ran up your thigh.

“What are you going to do when no one else can make you feel as good as I do?” he questioned, as one of his fingers started to rub circles on your clit.

“I guess I’d have to keep you around then,” you said, as he shook his head.

“You’d only have me until summer starts,” he said, his finger moving faster. “I’m transferring to a different school after this year.”

“No, you’re not..fuck. I’ll convince you to stay,” you said, relaxing into the bed as he teased you.

Ethan pulled his hand away from your pussy before he slid his boxers off. He crawled back on top of you and reached over to his bedside table to grab a condom.

“I might let you convince me,” he said, as he lined up with your entrance. You tensed up a little because you knew how big he was. “Relax, baby.”

You did as he said, taking a deep breath as he inched his way inside of you. You were moaning as he stretched you out, and when you thought he was all the way in, he just kept going.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, feeling so full as he finally came to a stop, wanting to give you plenty of time to adjust. “Told you..Fuck, I told you I could take it,” you said, already struggling to speak.

“Don’t get cocky,” he said, your mouth falling open as he started to move. “I’m going to ruin this pussy.”

“Ruin it,” you said, challenging him as your lusty, hooded eyes connected with his.

It took everything in Ethan to not immediately start pounding into you, but he didn’t want to hurt you. He started slow, your eyebrows already furrowing together, low moans slipping past your lips. The head of his cock hit that special spot every single time, but you needed more. He sped up a little as your legs wrapped around him, your hands gripped tightly around his biceps.

“Maybe you can take it,” he said, his breathing getting heavier. “Can I go faster?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, as his hips moved quicker.

Your brain was starting to turn to mush, the babbles slipping past your lips making absolutely no sense. The only thing your mind could process in that moment was how good Ethan was making you feel. He thought you were adorable, already so cock drunk, and he wasn’t even close to being done with you yet. He kept his pace, but occasionally thrust a little harder to see if you could take it, the loud moans slipping past your lips as your nails started to dig into his arms letting him know that you could.

He angled your hips to go even deeper. His pace was a little slow as he made sure you were okay. Your eyes were pleading with him to go faster, because you knew the words weren’t going to come out of your mouth. It was getting so hard for him to hold back, so he finally let go. He started to pound into you so hard that your skin was tingling, all the nerves in your body on edge. Your toes were curling as he slammed into your g-spot, your whimpers turning to cries as you felt your orgasm starting to build. It was hard for you to keep your eyes open, and you were sure Ethan was going to have your nail marks on his arms forever with how hard you were squeezing him.

“Fuck,” was the only word you were able to get out, your legs wrapping tightly around him as your body started to involuntarily jolt. Ethan was sure that everyone in the surrounding dorm rooms knew what was happening, because you were being so loud. He wasn’t letting up though. He loved that he was making you feel that good.

It only took a few more deep thrusts before your entire body started to tremble, loud whines flooding out of your mouth as the wave of euphoria washed over you. He chased his own orgasm as he fucked you through it, your pussy clenching him so tight that he was moaning himself.

“I’m almost there, baby,” he said, a slight rasp in his voice from all the panting he’d been doing.

You went limp, your grip on his arms and your legs around his waist relaxing as his hips started to falter, a loud groan slipping past his lips as he released into the condom.

He took a minute to catch his breath before he slid out of you. His abs were burning and his arms were sore from your nails, but he quickly got up to take the condom off so he could take care of you.

He crawled in the bed next to you as you adjusted to lay your head on his chest, still so fucked out that it was hard to process your thoughts. Ethan just held you close, his hands softly rubbing over your bare back as you relaxed into his touches.

“You’re okay, right?” he asked, after a few minutes of you not saying anything. You lazily nodded as your hand moved to rub across his chest.

You laid there in silence as you started to think about what’d just happened. You knew your friend was going to be pissed if she ever found out, but did that even matter? She made almost the entire university hate Ethan for things he never did, and it made you sad that he felt like he needed to switch to a different school so he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.

“So…” you finally said, “How can I convince you to stay?”

He let out a nervous laugh, not knowing the best way to respond. “I can’t take people talking about me the way they do anymore.”

“Even if I convince everyone that it was all lies?” you questioned, your tone playful as you angled your head to look at him. “I think it’d be awful for you to leave because of her. You could miss out on someone that would treat you right.”

“Someone like you?” he questioned as he looked down at you. You nodded, before he leaned down to kiss you. “You’re good at this whole convincing thing.”

“Does that mean you’ll stay?” you asked, smiling as you sat up to look at him.

“Yeah, as long as you don’t break my heart,” he said, wrapping his arms around you to pull you back down to his chest.

“I won’t.”

You stayed in Ethan’s bed for a couple hours, making plans for all the dates he wanted to take you on. It felt like you’d known him for way longer than just a few days, the two of you having an instant connection. You hated to pull away from him, but you knew you needed to get dressed before his roommate got home.

“It’s late, can I walk you back to your dorm?” he asked, as he started to put his clothes back on.

“I can’t believe I thought you were this horrible monster. You’re so sweet,” you said, as he smiled at you. “Yeah, you can walk me home.”

Ethan walked you to the front door of your building, pulling you into a gentle kiss before he pulled away.

“I’ll text you,” he said, as he started to back away.

“Yeah, let me know when you make it back to your dorm, please,” you said, as he nodded.

When you made it upstairs and got settled into your bed, you heard your phone vibrate as it charged on your bedside table. You grabbed it and saw a goodnight message from Ethan, a huge smile on your face as you responded to him. You were so exhausted from the time you’d spend with him, and you soon felt yourself start to doze off. You heard your phone buzz again, your eyes lazily opening to see if it was Ethan. You took a deep breath once you read the message that was sent to you.

‘Why the fuck were you kissing Ethan at that party?’

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #smut

369 notes · View notes

arcade-writing · 3 months

Text

Little Bunny

NSFW 🍋

Pairing: William Afton x AFAB! reader

Warning: age gap (reader is a grown adult), infidelity from William, pet names, minor breeding kink, Daddy kink, William is a shitty person, manipulation(?), rough sex, boss x employee, reader is unaware William has wife and kids (they're new to town and Will makes no effort to show he's married), reader is pretty oblivious, eating out, protected penetration, desk sex, minor pervert! William, scent kink, pussy slapping, Condom breaking, Praise kink, creampie, light degradation, he starts off 'nice' and then gets mean, alot of dirty talk, minor choking, overstimulation

Hey y'all... how's it been... I haven't posted a story since uh- April 17th, 2023 ....... yeah....hello again! I genuinely had the worst writers block & honestly horny block. Even when I started getting ideas and my thirsting back on, it was just never enough to write. I always hope when I start writing again it'll mean good news for my flow but, idk. (Also P.S I'm doing art commissions so if y'all wanna check that out you can right here , if you wanna, Just reblogging even if you're not interested would be really helpful, thank you!)

This is based off my own au so timeline may make no sense compared to the games and it is a rough idea - we're here for smut not lore. So please excuse the rough wages timeline wise. Just wanna say, I do not condone cheating or really, anything William does - but if you're crushing on a fictional character that kills kids you gotta accept he's gonna be scum. And sometimes you gotta embrace it a little.

You were one of the newer hires since the business has been getting slower, one too many crimes attached to the Pizzeria's reputation. Missing kid cases connected to the business but no proof to say it had any real causality to them. Bodies never found, no camera footage, solid alibis. Nothing. But that didn’t deter people. In fact, it seemed to bring a morbid curiosity. Some wanted to feel a sense of scandal by just being in the building. It was a small town, everyone knew everyone. Hearing their family diner was the talk of the town for so many headlines was horrid luck in attracting outside locals.

Unbeknownst to you, you were Williams best employee and to him, his little bunny, he was obsessed with you. But he knew had an image as your boss and a family man to uphold; but that didn’t stop him from trying to get a slice of your attention and getting what he wanted. He was a selfish man; he tried of the perfect suburb he’s crafted for himself. Who was he to deny his interest in the new hire? Sure you were younger but that just seemed to go in his favour.

Abit thankful the town, even in their grief, were still held by the morbid curiosity and tendencies to still come. The small boom in business makes it feel like how it has to be. Even gave him a reason to finally bring their newest attraction; a new band to play now he and Henry had to practically remodel themselves to centre stage. Freddy’s little band was minor show they pulled when they couldn’t perform or either of the springlock animatronics were out of commission. But if William can still keep this damn business afloat; he can give the spotlight to his newer creations.

The kids were finally done demanding your attention; it was a slow day since it was still early morning and most kids were at school. A band of kids flagged you down and insisted on giving you a makeover. Reluctantly, you agreed and you had two little girls who put chunky plastic jewelry they won or had on you. The boys immediately tried to put face paint on you, putting messy yellow face paint around your eyes and a bit of your cheek. You were so thankful when their parents finally coaxed their children to let you get back to work.

Huffing as you headed towards the back of the diner to get to the staff bathrooms, the back was still semi in construction. Loose wires here and there, some unpainted walls. Your coworkers said before the press and the police investigation the diner was expanding it’s building but with everything that happened; it’s all been delayed. Meanwhile, William saw everything through the security cameras, watching the chunky computer flicker through footage. Spotting you head towards the back, where the cameras were still buggy, quickly heading towards his office door and opening it; just so conveniently opening the door when you walk past and spotting you. Wearing that signature grin under his scruffy beard, his smile stretching uncomfortably wide. Stretching to his eyes but his stare never matched.

“Ah- little bunny, hopping away from the job, huh?” He teased softly, knowing full well what you were doing.

At the sound of his voice, you jump as a noise of surprise slips out from you.

“No! Oh no-! I just wanted to get this face paint off!” You quickly say, not wanting my boss to think you were trying to slack off. Sheepishly gesturing to the thick yellow face paint around your eyes as your cheeks, feeling them heat up with embarrassment. You looked so stupid. He couldn't help but laugh, that was the reaction he liked – seeing you becoming sheepish around him. He can feel his smile grow wider.

“We can’t have you not look the part.” He tuts, using the still semi wet face paint on your cheek and smearing it on the tip of your nose, making a heart shape with it , his thumb now smudged with yellow as he liked the bunny-like nose he painted on you. It surprised you, eyes widening as you grew an awkward smile as you adjusted your uniform. Your trainers are scratching the back of your other leg, feeling the purple knee high socks roll down due to it. “I guess we can’t.”

“Let’s fix that then.” William patted the doorframe of his office before gesturing you to get inside, he wasn’t going to have you scurry off to the bathroom. “Come sit, little bunny, let’s sort this face paint, hm? I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this in public” He chuckled, moving out of your way so you could enter. “It’d be pretty embarrassing-“ William saw the way you squirmed at the idea of being considered an embarrassment to your own employer, deciding to give you some mercy as he finished his sentence. “-for you, wouldn’t it?”

You reluctantly agree, sighing as you walk into his office. Seeing the golden bunny plush on his shelf of memorabilia of his work. Trying to calm yourself down from your own prickling nerves, Fiddling with the wire bunny paper holder on his desk as you couldn’t help but chuckle at the obvious attatched he had to to the long eared creature. His eyes followed your every move; the bunny plushie was something important to him, something sentimental; it was a plush of the golden rabbit he once dressed up as. A victory statement to himself for what he got away with; he liked having trinkets of his achievements. He closed his office door, contemplating locking it but didn’t want to get too eager. Making sure the window was covered with the mini curtain; the more privacy the better.

He guided you to sit In the plush yellow chair beyond you, grabbing some wet wipes from the drawer of his desk. “Such a soft little bunny, can I touch?” He asked playfully, crouching in front of you as he turned his attention to your face, using a wet wipe to remove the paint smear from your nose first. Your nose scrunched at the sudden feel of something wet. The smell was always too clean – some just smelt acidic. When you sat down, you didn’t expect to get somewhat pampered, you knew William could be pretty hands on as a person but you didn’t expect this. He cleaned up the rest of your face without much issue, his movements were precise and a bit rough when it comes to rubbing off the face paint on your cheeks. The thicker spots and cheap paint make it cling to your skin abit more. When satisfied with the wipe and picking up the next wipe to start on getting the yellow around your eyes off, careful to avoid poking your eyes.

Peering down as he saw you fiddling with the fabric of your shorts; one of the reasons he loved the summer time. He got to see your pretty legs on show. He had the desire to run his finger down the length of your shorts, he couldn’t get the thought out of his head, like an itch he couldn’t scratch. But he held himself back, just as he did with the urge to pull you away from the seat right now and on top of him.

Once he pulled away you gently tried to dab away some of the dampness with your hand. Your cheeks stinging a bit from his roughness. Smoothing out your clothes to look more presentable as you hummed. “Thank you, Mr Afton.” You say, just reaching down to sort out your fallen down sock.

“It's not a problem at all, I have to make sure everyone follows uniform code.” William shrugged, throwing the crumbled wet wipes into the bucket looking pin by his desk. You were so oblivious to how obsessed he was with you. Letting him wipe your face clean and didn’t even protest. He often wondered what excuses you made up in your cute little head to not dwell on his behaviour.

His focus shifted as he watched you reach down, beating you to it as he grabbed your ankle and propped your foot on his thigh, wiggling your sock back up until it reached up just under your knee, giving you a pat with his signature grin. You knew this wasn’t very professional but he always seemed so doting; you just took it as perhaps it was just his instincts to take care of others. Unaware of the horrific things he’s done. His persona to others as this caring, sweet businessman – blaming him snapping at workings as stress and then gifts his employees with free snacks or drinks to make up for it.

“Thank you again.” You say. Nodding to your now lifted sock as you look down at him, still crouched before you.

“I already said it's no problem, being too polite can be annoying.” William stated, his words sickly sweet. As if just giving some friendly advice. Rubbing your knee as his thumb caressed it. He knew this might be inappropriate but he needed this and you were such a good little employee; you wouldn’t speak up, you were a good little bunny that does what he asks. Always trying to please the people around you and fit in as the new hire of the place.

He could still see the faint remnants of yellow face paint around your eyes that he decided to leave alone, it made your eyes pop, it made you look even more pretty. He gently grabbed back of your hand, holding the palm upright and used his index finger to draw his initials in the centre; marking you as his in a way you’d never know, his other palm was hovering over yours gently. He leaned in and made sure the blinds of the window were still shut; gently kissing your hand.

Which you, in turn, jumped at the kiss – the giggle you let out at the ticklish feel of his finger drawing on your palm cut off by the surprise you felt. Feeling the scruff of his beard on your skin as your lips part. “oh-!” Your brows scrunch, unsure how you felt about him doing that as you chewed on my bottom lip. One half enjoying the attention; enjoying to be doted on and his nice words but you knew that wasn’t what a boss should do. Glancing back over to the door; perhaps it was time you went back to work now you were all cleaned up-

His smile grew a little wider as your giggle was cut off. Seeing you glance at the door, he immediately grasped your hand with both of his, adjusting to rest on one knee as his aching legs screamed at him. "sorry, I just wanted to show my thanks, you’re such a sweet bun.” He lied so easily, quickly trying to dismiss your concerns. “That was abit forward, wasn’t it? I can be like that, how I was raised and all.” When he said how he was raised, a part of you felt a little guilty for being so quick to rush off. Assuming so poorly of his actions; not like an older man hasn’t kissed your knuckles goodbye before without ill intent.

“oh..okay.” you reluctantly accept. But you were still worried you may be enjoying his attention a little bit too much. Your stomach twisting, remembering you shouldn’t be accepting this but..it felt nice. My brows scrunched and twitched as your brain spun. It wasn’t like he wasn’t an attractive man, abit scruffy but he always seemed so cheerful and wanted to make others happy. Leaning into the plump back of the yellow office chair as my hands continued to fiddle with my work shorts. My brain screaming two different things at me it kinda just made me freeze. Go still until my brain could decide what it wanted.

William loved seeing the innocent expression in your face as he looked up at you. You seemed so helpless. You were his. The fact you were allowing this, excusing it told him all he needed to know. His mind was always the eager opportunist. How far could he really push this? His eyes falling to your ankle, the fact your foot still rests on his bent knee, you made no move to remove him or yourself. His smile turned sly as he bent closer to your foot, beginning to untie the knot of your trainer.

“It's alright, it’s okay.” He shushed softly, doing his best to come off soothing when his mind was running wild. One hand went to your thigh, pushing your hand from its continuous fidget as he smoothed his palm along until the fabric was bunched up as high as it could, exposing half of your thigh to him. His other hand taking advantage he had big hands to massage, squeeze and caress along your calf down to your ankle. “Those shoes still look new, bet they pinch.” His brow raised, giving the tip of your shoes a pinch.

“They do… sometimes.” You answer quietly, becoming a deer in the headlights at the feel of his palm against your thigh. Your heart rate immediately spiking as it thumped like a drum in your chest. Your cheeks growing warmer as you leaned completely against the chair. Hands going to the sides of the cushion, gripping into them. Unable to stop the soft sigh that escaped you at the feel of your aching calf being messaged.

He slipped your shoe off as it landed on the floor with a thud. “Poor little bun.” He tutted with mock sympathy, rubbing your ankle and the heel of your foot. Repeating the same for your other leg as he put your trainers to rest by the plush seat. Swapping hands to soothe your legs.

The scruffy man looked at your work shorts, an idea coming to mind. “Bet uniform can be such a pain at times, The summer heat must be doing you no good- they could cause chaffing, we should get you changed into a size that looks more comfortable.” He cooed a little more, trying to convince you by disguising it as concern. He knew you weren’t stupid; oblivious but not stupid. You couldn’t make decisions for yourself, He needed to do it for you.

Your breathing immediately stuttered. Your hands raised to your chest to fiddle with your own fingers. “I don’t know- I don’t think you-“ The words got caught in your throat as your eyes kept glancing at the door. Your mind was screaming to get away and not indulge but my body felt like putty when you felt your muscles relax from his caressing and firm hands. He had such lovely strong hands…you couldn’t deny you’ve thought about them before. He made machines, sure with Henry, but he obviously knew how to use them for intricate wiring and metal work. Your body was absolutely relishing this man's hands being on you.

“That’s right, you don’t think and that’s okay, let me do it for you.” He chuckled, his voice soothing but his words had some bite. A part of you made you whimper at his words; you didn’t mind the sound of that. Letting him think for you. His signature smile stretched high on his cheeks, moving your legs over his shoulders as he was still bent on one knee. Grabbing your work shorts, unbuttoning them and shuffling them down, abit awkward with how you were sitting but nothing that would deter him. You gasped as you didn’t know if you should lift your hips or just stay still. Sliding off your shorts as he hummed happily at the sight of your skin now properly exposed to his wandering eye, his tongue clicking when he saw you press your thighs together.

“Now, now, no hiding from me, I need to check if you have any chaffing.” He scolded, lying through his teeth with glee. Easily prying your thighs away from each other and forced your legs apart to ‘inspect’ your smooth skin. Grinning wider when he saw the little wet patch on your underwear, a shiver running through him. Oh you really like him.

You immediately tried to hide your face behind your hand. One hand covering your crotch to hide the shameful evidence of your arousal. Whimpering a little as your feet dug into his shoulder blades a little, your breathing getting heavier embarrassment. Trembling as you couldn’t bring myself to peek at what he was doing. Feeling as if you were in a dream; there was no way this was happening. But everything felt too real, too much it was making your nerves feel like they were being electrocuted.

“How many times will I repeat myself with you? No hiding.” His voice suddenly grew huskier, snapping at you. Firmly grasping your wrist as he shoved it away from your crotch. He wasn’t going to tolerate having to say the same thing no matter how cute you were. “Look at you, getting wet just for me…have I been a bad boss? Neglecting my sweet bunny? Does that spot need attention?”

He licked his teeth, his brows knitted from his previous annoyance but his voice dripping like honey as he looked down at you. Not wanting to wait for your response. Grinning wildly and staring directly at your hidden face. The fact he could get you this riled up and helpless in his presence excited him beyond belief. He could hear the sound of your little whimpers, sliding your underwear gently to the side to attend to that slick cunt of yours.

“there, there.” Giving your vulva a wet kiss as he shakily inhaled your scent, shuddering at finally getting to sniff it beyond finding left over clothes in your locker. Finding your panties in there was a jackpot, how angry and red his cock was after stroking it so mercilessly to your sweet scent.

Immediately, you let out a scandalised gasp. Your hands shot up and grasped the back of the plush yellow chair. Eyes wide as you shuddered, “Mr Afton-!” You squeal out as my feet kick and dig into his back as my toes curl beneath your socks.

He loved that response, that high-pitched little squeal you let out as your body became the epitome of vulnerability in his arms. He had to hold in a moan of his own, his heart feeling like it was going to explode in his chest and his cock straining in his pants.

“Shhh my little bunny, it’s okay, let me clean you up.” He shushed in a sing-song tone, using those hands to firmly press your legs still. Making sure you couldn’t squirm away. He huffed in your scent a little, giving more kisses along your wet folds, Each kiss leaving a wet smack. Letting his tongue trace along with the smallest licks, just teasing you.

You whine, back arching as your hands grasp and clutch at the back of the chair as your eyes squeezed shut tight. Your legs twitching and digging into his shoulder blades as you let out cracked whimper. “Mr Afton.. please..” you weren’t even sure what you were begging for – for him to stop and be professional? Act like it never happened. Or for him to keep going. You liked what he was doing – it’s been so long since someone’s given you attention like this, most guys only wanted their turns. Feeling the scratch of his beard on the inside of your thighs, prickling your sensitive skin.

William kept kissing and sucking gently, burying his nose into your heat as he peered up at you as he gripped your thigh and hip to keep you still. Only parting to coo more encouraging words at you. Wanting you to let go and be a good bunny. To be his. “You’re doing so, so good my little bunny.” Feeling no guilt to using his control over you as he licked a long strip up your pussy. “Let your boss take care of you, it’s what I’m here for.” He mocked sweetly.

It made your stomach flutter and twist; your eyes unable to peek, keeping them eyes shut tightly, as you sighed. Relaxing and sinking against the chair as you trembled. Your body is unable to deny how good his mouth felt. He let out a pleased hum that vibrated against your folds, his hand smoothed up your hip and pushed your button-up shirt up your stomach to keep it out of his way.

“There, that feels better, I think. Doesn’t it?” His tongue left a trail of wetness where he licked and sucked. Nuzzling his face into your pussy as he moved his head side to side, groaning as he inhaled deeply your sweet scent. He loved the sound of your whimpers, your soft little whimpers. How sensitive and responsive you are to his mouth. Groaning against your hot flesh as his other hand smoothed from your thigh, pulling your underwear more out of the way to make sure he could pamper your cunt with his kisses. His tongue prodded at your entrance as he kneeled fully, letting his nose nestle and bump against your clit.

“..yes..” you breathed out, one hand dropping from the gripping the back of the seat, your hand instinctively grasping his well kept hair. Brown and grey strands in your fist as your eyes fluttered open. Your hips bucked and squirmed with his continuous kisses and licks. Your lips falling open and unable to close them. His breath hitched at the sudden grasp of his hair, a low groan leaving his lips. “My little bunny wants more.” He hummed, his face moving to the side as he sat back a little to watch your face.

The way you bucked and squirmed, he couldn’t help but feel that satisfaction of knowing he was the one to make you do so. Seeing you grasping his hair as a sign to keep going. He knew he could hold you down and continue to pleasure you to his heart’s content. But he wanted to see how vulnerable you could become as he leaned back, his warm breath blowing over your sensitive spot. He wanted to see how far he could push you, to break you out of your shell as his eyes gazed up at you. Hastily burying his face back into your weeping cunt as he kissed up and began hungrily sucking on your clit. Feeling it throb against his tongue as it traced the letters of his name against it. Shaking his head as he did as he slurped noisily.

William pulled back for a small gulp of air, not wanting to part from your perfect cunt for too long. “How does that make you feel, sweetheart?” He teased, eyes squinting as his thumb caressed your tummy. “your boss making you feel so good, sucking on your clit like that?”

You mewl, tugging on his hair as your back arches from the constant attention to your sensitive bud. Just his breath fanning against it was making you shiver. “Yes- yes sir-“ but once those words left your mouth he tutted, shaking his head as he pulled back more. Frowning as he licked his now glossy lips. “No, no, bunny that’s not how you address the man eating out your pussy, now is it?"

“…n-no?” You stammer with confusion, already whining at the loss of his mouth. Tilting my head as I gave his hair another tug, wanting him to continue but all that did was make him slap your clit. The sting and suddenness made you jump with a yelp. A moan fluttering out your throat. Your legs squeezing at the side of his head, your knees bumping into his ear.

“No is correct.” William hummed, proud of your answer, caressing where he slapped as he raised a brow. “You should call me daddy, that sounds nicer, right? You can call me that, can’t you?” He coos, tilting his head as his nose crinkled as his smirk grew. Expectant eyes watching your every move, seeing the embarrassment grow on your face. Your lips opening and closing as you just let out a shaky breath. Slowly nodding but that earns you another slap. You let out a high pitched whine at your poor bud getting smacked.

“Use your words.” He ordered, his voice only growing firmer, this time not giving any soothing caress to the small sting. “yes…daddy” the word falls off your tongue, making your stomach twist and flutter. It felt strange but it didn’t feel wrong. Despite your hesitance he rewards it by bending back down, lavishing your sex with kisses as muffled praises left his lips.

Williams tongue was long And thick but grew a bit more slender to the tip of it. It dragged and lapped at your wetness as he groaned. His hand on your thigh, adjusting your leg on his shoulder as he kept his face pinned to your heat. The hand holding up your shirt tugging it up after unbuttoning a few of the bottom ones. Pulling the edge of the shirt towards your mouth and you bit down. Holding the shirt with your teeth as you slightly drooled against the fabric. With his hands free, his thumbs now on either side of your fluttering hole to keep you open. Grunting as he prods his tongue into you, fucking you with it as he sucks and slurps hungrily at your arousal. You gasp, shaking as your hands tug on his hair and try to pry his ravenous tongue from your sloppy cunt. It was too much- groaning deep into the fabric between your teeth as your eyes fluttered.

William plunged a finger inside you alongside his tongue. Only pulling back to speak. “don’t fucking try to stop me. You can handle it.” He immediately went back to work as your head flew back. Your legs are tightening and kicking against his shoulder blades. “I’m gonna-“ you whine, breathing as shaky as the rest of you as you squirmed. Feeling yourself dangle right at that edge as his finger hastily pumped in and out of you. Getting closer and closer – feeling so good- just as you reached right on that edge he suddenly pulled away, liicking his lips. Making you cry out in protest, eyes wide.

“Daddy- no- I was almost there!” You pleaded. Too needy to be embarrassed by the title for him as you gave another kick to his shoulder blade with the heel of your foot. He just tutted and shook his head. "No, you're only gonna cum around my cock and only then.”

Your eyes widen. Breath hitching as words caught in your throat making the shirt drop from your mouth. Unable to even try to speak as he suddenly pulled himself from in between your legs and grasped your hips, yanking you up. Bouncing you in his arms with a strained grunt as he carried you over to his desk. Grabbing what files he could and shoved it to the side – letting anything else be swiped off without care. Placing you down on the edge of the desk with a small thud. You hissed slightly at the small smack of your rear against the old hardwood. He unbuttoned your shirt at your chest, opening it up as he grinned at the sight of your chest.

“Daddy’s waited so long to play with these.” He breathed out, moving your shirt more out of the way to keep your chest exposed. Squeezing and groping at it, pressing against the perk of your nipple. Caressing it with the pad of his thumb as he hummed.

Your breathing hitches, puffing your chest more into his big hand, feeling dizzy from the way it felt like he was engulfing you. His fingers long but still thick, palm rough with work and age. You grasped his wrist as he kneaded at your chest as you glanced down and saw a prominent tent in the front of his pants. A small wet spot already formed from his own excitement.

Noticing where you were looking he used his other hand to unbuckle his pants, tugging them down to his ankles along with his boxers. Letting his cock spring free as it smacked against his yellow shirt, the sticky tip just smearing pre on it as it drooled. Twitching as your eyes were glued to it. He’s longer than any of the guys you’ve tried before, thicker too but not too much. “O-oh shit…..” You breath out with wide eyes, reaching out your hand to grasp it but he stops you. “Ah ah- no Bunny, you’ll make me cum if you do that, let me feel you cum around me first.”

You nod, and yelp at another smack to your poor throbbing clit. Covering your mouth to muffle your surprise as you panted. Removing your hand to respond as he raised an expecting brow. “Yes daddy-“ with a satisfied hum he strokes your tummy as he pushes your back more against the desk. Ready to align himself with your hole, his eyes watching the way it clenches at nothing in anticipation. Sticky with your arousal and his spit. Eager to feel exactly how good you’ll make him feel-

“Wait-! Do you have a condom?” You ask with a flurry of sense, so caught up in the whirlpool that was William and your need you almost forgot. Sure you’re already on birth control but you always preferred to be safe.

At the question, William huffed quietly. Forcing his uncomfortably wide smile back as his hand twitched. A flair of annoyance rising at your request but he wasn’t looking for any risk to this. As tempting as knocking you up sounded, he couldn’t handle another snot faced kid. Three was more than enough. Besides, he can’t let anyone find out about this. So with a nod, he walks around the desk and goes through the top draw where he spots a purple condom. You immediately felt relief upon seeing the packet; confused why your boss has it but thankful nonetheless.

Once rolled on he resumed his position between your legs as he stared down at you. Licking his teeth as his brow twitches, his smile still perked on his lips. “Now you’re gonna take daddy’s cock, aren’t you?”

“Yes daddy, fuck me!”

“Dirty bunny.” He chuckles with surprise. William lines his cock with your entrance, rubbing the tip against your clit. Tapping the head of his cock against it before dragging it down your folds. He grinned as he suddenly grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand to his dick and curled your fingers around it. “You want it? Then guide it in, bunny, be good for me.” You did just that, aligning it perfectly, your hips flexing as your legs adjusted at his hips and slid down on the head of his cock.

Immediately, Your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the stretch. “Oh-! You’re so fucking tight.” He thrusts a couple of times, fighting the resistance. He desperately held back the urge to cum, groaning as he slid in and out. Sawing himself into you as he worked you open with his cock. You already felt so much better than his wife. You didn’t bitch at him or refuse to let him eat you out. You didn't say no to him. And you’re so tight- squeezing his dick like you owned it. And William wasn’t a man to be owned but he could definitely get use to your pussy hugging him whenever he needed you.

His cock buried deep Inside of you as he eased in, nestling right against that certain spot. Making you let out a strained moan, eyes rolling back. “Easy, Bun, easy-“ he hushes, his stubble tickling your ear as he hunches over you. His teeth tugging on the shell of your ear as he let out a husky chuckle.

William paused in his thrusts, giving you a moment to fully adjust. Wanting you to become more needy as you squirmed. Rolling your hips as you tried to grind against him. Seeing your pathetic state, he gave you a second before he thrusts into you once again, His grip on your hips were tight. The first squeal of your wetness from his movements made him let out a rumbling groan from his throat. Pumping into you as he nodded his head. The resistance of your tightening walls growing less and less as his fingers dragged and kneaded into your hips. “Take it-take it! Fucking take it!” Skin slapping against skin, his grip on your hips as your body dug into the desk underneath you, you kept your hand to your mouth to muffle you.

Williams thrusts were getting faster now, his thighs smacking into yours as yours, your legs squeezing his hips which only pushed him closer, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, the desk creaking. Everything building together with his rugged breaths, your muffled whines. His eyes pinned you down as one hand snaked up your body to your throat, squeezing ever so slightly as his cock kissed your g-spot as he arched his back.

It all made your stomach clench, that tightening knot in your gut approaching quicker, clamping down on his cock with every stroke. “Gonna cum on my cock, bunny? Making you feel good?” he taunted, tilting his head as you desperately nodded your head. Trying to respond back to him as your voice cracked and your moans overcame any words you attempted to speak. “Cum on it, squeeze it tight, come on.”

“I’m gonna- ohh- fuck-!” you squeal, your eyes rolling as your back arched, panting as your hand tightened over your quivering lips. You could see his hair messy and no longer neatly slicked back, the part you tugged on and the sweat on his forehead ruining his hair gel made the tuffs sweep over his forehead. His brows tightly knit in concentration. “cum on my cock, little bun, go on.” He grunted, keeping up pace as his hand tightened around your neck. Just beginning to steal the air from you as your fluttering eyes remained rolled. Bucking your hips furiously as your orgasm crashed over you. Whimpering as came, and you came hard. Practically choking his dick as you did. Stars littering your voice as you whine, tugging on his wrist to let go of your neck.

With a groan he let go of your neck but his fingers twitched. Itching to do it again. He slammed his hand right by the side of your head as he kept a tight grip on your hip. His thrusts getting shaky and erratic.“Fuck, bunny I’m about to cum-“ he could feel the warm of your heat. Feeling the friction from the condom against his sensitive tip. Feeling it roll and shift, chewing on his bottom lip as you whimpered and whined.

“That’s it, Bunny, You gonna let Daddy breed you? Fuck you full of my cum, I bet you want that-“ he was cut off by you clenching around him. Groaning as he shuddered. “Ooh…Well your body definitely likes the idea.” He gleefully chuckled. Shaking his head as he kept fucking you. Chasing that high of his impending release.

You moaned louder, your hand slightly uncovered from your mouth to try and let you breathe and William sneered. Thrusting into your tight cunt brutally. “Shut up! Are that much of a slut you want the whole building to hear?” he speaks through gritted teeth, you immediately let out a whine, shaking your head. Your words are shaky as you quickly deny being a slut but he just licked his teeth. Tilting his head.

“Oh really? You're not? Why do you think you’re in this position then, huh?” He just grunts as he continues thrusting. “you’re a slutty bunny, just letting your boss undress you- letting him eat your pussy-” William groans, his sentences getting chopped as he panted. Bullying his cock into you over and over. “Letting him fuck you, this what you wanted, you let this happen – you’re a slut.” His words made you whimper, the truth stung but your mind was so foggy, lost in the haze of your pleasure, you could barely think. Just trapped being a squirming mess as he fucks you.

“Don’t whine, don’t act like it’s not true.” William scolded, sliding his hand just on your lower stomach, pressing down where his cock is inside you. “That’s my cock deep inside you, gonna deny that too?”

You shake your head. “No daddy-“ your response is immediately reward with him patting your hot cheek abit roughly as he nodded. “That’s right, can’t deny it – the sound of your wet pussy squelching and wetting my cock is more than enough evidence, isn’t it?"

“Yes daddy.” Your words came out slurred, nodding as your lips kept parting as you drooled. Eyes fluttering as you squirm and arch as your second orgasm is forced out of you as you squeal. Your feet digging right into his ass as overstimulation shocked you. Hiccupping as your poor pussy fluttered around him, each stroke of his cock against your walls made your veins spark.

That was all he needed, cursing under his sharp breath as he squirted thick ropes. Just registering how he painted your inner walls. His glues just catching the sight of his cum sticking to him and smearing on the lips of your pussy. A spark of satisfaction grew in him but also annoyance. Making sure to fuck his cum more into you as he tore his eyes away, you were too blissed out to even realize. Overstimulation already making your brain a mess. Shaking as you felt warmth flood up to your stomach.

He slowly eased out, looking down once again. “Oops-“ he says almost lazily, too riddled with euphoric high to pretend he cared. Looking at the torn condom, ripped and stretched at the thick head of his dick. His cum stitching to your cunt with a thick string. Your juices absolutely soaked him, making the rubber shine under the lights of his office. Panting as he pushes back his messy hair. “Well, this is one of those things you risk when you’re a slut, isn’t it? Accidents happen.” He tuts, having enough sense to fight off the smirk wanting to raise on his lips.

You see the broken condom and your stomach twists. For a moment you believe your heart stops as you watch him, tug off the broken condom as he throws it into the bin. Letting out a pleased hum as he grasps his dick, smearing his cum and your juices on your thigh to clean himself up. Raising his hand to suck on his finger and groans; enjoying the taste of you once again. Tugging his pants back up, he pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and pulls out some crumbled cash. “Here, bunny, I should take responsibility.”

With a chuckle William puts the cash in your trembling hand, leaning down to your cheek to give it a few doting kisses. Stroking your hip as he did. You whined when he pulled away, you were completely and utterly fucked. Your hand clenching around the dollar notes as you stare up at him. Your brain was utterly turned into putty. He grabbed your underwear from the floor, wiping his cum from your sloppy cunt but he didn’t return them. Putting your underwear inside his desk drawer, with a smile.

“Let’s get you presentable, I’ll send you home early, ain’t that a win?” He teased, giving your cheek another kiss before he grabs your clothes from the floor. Helping you redress and steadied you back on your feet.

“I’m hoping this won’t be our last time, bunny, you were perfect.” He reassures, squeezing your hands as he nuzzles his nose against yours. You blinked as you nodded, heart racing as you leaned against him. On your tiptoes to reach his height with a small smile. “Really?” You ask, voice shaky and quite. William nodding as he strokes your knuckles, giving your forehead a kiss.

“Go on, Bun, hop along!” He smacks your ass as he guides you out of his office. You stumbled out and tried to make yourself more presentable as you smoothed out your uniform and fixed a few buttons. You could hear your blood rushing through your ears as you went out of the pizzeria in a daze. Your brain is unable to stop the spinning wheel of his heavy breaths. His thrusts that left you still aching. Clutching the dollars tighter as you knew where you’d be going before heading home.

#arcadejohn1279 #fnaf #fnaf movie #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton x you #matthew lilard #william afton fnaf #matthew lillard #matthew lillard!william afton x reader #Matthew lillard!William afton #five nights at freddy's #fnaf nsft #fnaf smut #william afton smut #bunny nsft

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strniohoeee · 6 months

Text

Stay Right There

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N and her friend make plans to go clubbing, but Matt likes her outfit too much, and can’t even make it to the club🌺

Warnings⚠️: SMUTTTTT, sex and like the dirty talk lowkey ateeee in this one, but idk I’ll let yall be the judge of that one🤭

Song for the imagine: Partition- Beyoncé

⚠️This is an 18+ imagine, so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️

Took 45 minutes to get all dressed up

And we ain’t even gonna make it to this club

“The club on Friday night…is that even a question of course I’m there” I said to my friend

“Oh my fucking god yayyy” she said

I looked down to see Matt looking up at me while laying on my lap wondering who I’m speaking to

“I haven’t been dancing in so fucking long. I’m so excited” I told her

“No for real! Like you’re my OG dancing partner, and I haven’t seen you in so fucking long” she said sounding happy

“I know! I’m so sorry I’ve been busy working and hanging out with Matt and his brothers” I told her

“No worries girl! How’s Matt? I miss him too” she said

“He’s good, he’s sitting here with me listening in on our convo” I told her laughing

“If he can hear me ask him if Chris is still on the market” she said laughing

“You’re such a creeper” I said laughing with her

“I forgot to tell you the club, it’s Griffins on 51st street” she said to me

“Griffins! Oh my god shut up that place looks awesome” I said to her

I looked down and Matt was mouthing “CAN I GO PLEASE” he asked sticking his bottom lip out

“Matt wants to know if he can go” I said to her

“Of course he can, he can bring Chris and Nick too if they want” she said to me

“Nice! I’ll let him know, but I’ll let you go and I can’t wait to see you Friday” I responded to her

“Alright girly. Love ya and I’ll see you Friday” she said

“Love you too” I said

And with that we hung up.

It was Friday night, and I was currently getting ready to go out with Matt to dance my ass off. I finished my hair and makeup, and was deciding on what dress to wear.

I finally decided on a neon silk spaghetti strap orange dress. It was my favorite dress I owned, hugging my curves in all the right places. I paired it with my faux diamond open toe stilettos

Matt was waiting for me in my living room as I was finishing up. Once I was done I sprayed myself with perfume and grabbed my bag

I walked out to the living room, and Matt’s head snapped up once he heard my heels clacking closer

“Woahhhhh” he said raising his brows

“What do we think?” I asked giving him a spin

“You look fucking sexy” he said standing up

“Thanks baby” I said giving him a kiss, and he placed his hands on my waist

“I like the way this fabric feels” he said squeezing my ass

“Matt….behave” I told him looking up at him

“I don’t know that I can….you look too good” he said licking his lips

“Matt we have somewhere to be” I said rolling my neck

“Yeah I know…..or we could stay back and have some fun” he said rubbing his hands up my sides

“But baby I haven’t seen Giselle in so long” I said pouting

“I’m sure she’ll be okay…..I sent Chris to her house anyways” he said winking

“You and your sneaky plans” I said shaking my head

“I can’t help myself. I want to fuck you so much I don’t think I can wait” he said pulling me in by my neck and kissing me

“You’re going to have to. We have plans” I said pulling away from the kiss

“I don’t think so” he said kissing me again and cupping my breasts

“Matt” I sighed

“Quick fuck, and we can still go out after” he said

“Fuck I can’t deny you” I said licking my lips

“Good” he said before kissing me again

He slowly brought us back to the couch allowing himself to fall down, and me to fall into his lap

We started to make out as he held my hips and guided me to grind on him, feeling his growing erection

“Naughty boy….already so hard” I said as I kept grinding on him

“I'm always hard for you” he said gripping my ass harshly

“God Matt you’re irresistible” I said moaning at the feeling of the friction

I went back in to make out with him, running my hands through his hair and lightly pulling as he gripped my breasts again

“Come on baby, I need you” he said moaning

I got off of him so he could unbuckle his belt and slide his pants and boxers down

I went to remove my dress before he stopped me

“Keep it on, and the shoes too” he said stroking his dick while looking up at me

“You’re so freaky” I said to him

As he was stroking his dick I leaned over, and spat on the tip for added lubrication

“Fuck…you’re such a dirty slut” he said leaning his head back as he stroked harder

“Be nice with your words baby” I said to him as I pulled my underwear down

I was wearing Matt’s favorite underwear. They were black and lace. Once I removed them I held them in my hand when an idea popped in my head

“Open your mouth” I said to Matt looking down at him

His mouth fell open, and stuffed my underwear in his mouth causing him to moan

“Good boy” I said before hiking my dress up a bit, and beginning to straddle Matt’s lap

I leaned up, and he helped me sink down onto his dick

“Shitttt” I moaned out once I sank all the way down

“So good baby” I said looking at him running my hands through his hair

I slowly started to bounce on Matt’s cock, he threw his head back and groaned at the feeling

“Fuck Matt you feel so good” I moaned out throwing my head back

I kept bouncing as he gripped my ass, and occasionally grabbing my breasts

I removed the underwear from his mouth

“Fuck you look so sexy bouncing on my cock wearing your slutty heels and this tight dress” he said inveteeen grunts

“Fuck baby….keep talking like that, and I swear I’ll cum” I moaned out at him gripping his shoulders

Matt slowly shifted down, so he could grab my ass and fuck up into me

“SHITTTT” I yelled out, as he kept pounding into me at a rapid pace

“Fuck you’re so hot” he said looking up at me

Matt kept pounding up into me, and all I could do was moan out his name like a mantra

He came back up, and I started to grind down on him. Clenching around his dick as my clit rubbed against his pelvic bone

“Fuck Matt I’m going to cum FUCK FUCK FUCK” I started to yell out as I started to grind faster

“Come on baby, give it to me. I’m begging for you to use me…fucking milk my cock” he said helping me grind

“God Matt you’re so dirty” I said moaning out

I kept grinding and suddenly I began to shutter

“I’m gonna cum” I said, and soon enough I began to shake and I fell towards Matt’s chest as I came all over his dick. Shaking and trembling and out of breath

“Gonna let me cum in your mouth?” He asked helping me ride out his high

“Whatever you want I’ll take it” I said trying to catch my breath

He pulled me off, and I got down on my knees

He started to stroke his dick, and suddenly he began to jerk forward, his jaw falling slack as he held eye contact with me

“Fuck fuck Y/N” he moaned out as he came all on my tongue, and I swallowed every drop of his cum

“You’re so fucking hot” he said pulling me off the floor and making out with me

Once we pulled away we sat to try and catch our breaths

“Fuck im not going out….im spent” I said to Matt weakly

“Its whatever you want to do” he said breathing heavy

“Let me tell Giselle” I said shakily getting up from his lap, and taking my heels off to grab my phone from the floor

I opened up our chat

-Hey girly…I won’t make it tonight…Matt and I just fucked and he tore my shit UPPP

-Bitchhhh shut up! I was just about to text you to do a raincheck because Chris just tore my shit up too

-Look at us….girl I’ll call you tomorrow, so we can talk all about this

-Yes please do! Let me get back to this freak

-Have funnnn

I turned around to Matt

“Chris just fucked her dumb too, so the plans are off” I told Matt

“I knew he was going to do that…he’s such a horny fuck” Matt said laughing

“And you aren’t?” I said to him laughing

“Oh whatever! Get over here” he said

I went over to the couch and sat with him, pulling my phone back out, and taking a post sex selfie with Matt

I put it up on Close Friends on instagram captioned

“Like that one Beyoncé lyric took 45 minutes to get all dressed up, and we ain’t even make it to the club….yeah😏”

I posted it and immediately Nick slid up calling us gross, and we just laughed about it

“Come shower with me baby, and then we can watch some tv and eat something” Matt said

“Ouuu sounds nice! Let’s go” I said to him

The End

I hope you guys liked this one 🤭🖤. Sorry I haven’t uploaded all day I’ve just been feeling sick today💗 Love you all and thank you so much for over 450 followers😧

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplet smut #matt sturniolo smut #smut #Spotify

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darkworkcourier · 1 year

Note

I was wondering, could you write Ghost x fem!reader hand to hand combat training that leads to them making out

YES'M COMING RIGHT UP

reader doesn't have a nickname or any identifying features other than, idk, having hair i guess? also no real warnings except for making out and some suggestive stuff. y'know, promises on the horizon. 👀 i didn't want to go much further in case all you wanted was just makeouts.

---

"No. Hands here. Right. Just about level with your chest."

It's hard to focus with Ghost's hands on your wrists, guiding you into a stance that feels off. You're accustomed to one particular style of defense, and he shifts you into another that makes your muscles ache.

You furrow your brow. "Is it supposed to feel like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like I'm about to throw my rotator cuff out?"

He shrugs, resuming his original stance—one where his hands are lower, parallel to his waist, arms spread like he's going to hug you. "Just means you're using muscles you're not accustomed to exercising," he replies.

"You saying I don't exercise?" you joke.

"Just hold your hands there."

You do, and he gives you about two seconds of warning before he comes at you.

Going up against Ghost in hand-to-hand combat is terrifying. There's no other word for it, no way to describe it outside of using terms like 'pants-shittingly scary'. He's a wall of muscle garbed in black, mask cementing the vision of a very buff Grim Reaper launching himself at you, dragging you into death in some judo move. You're still not accustomed to it, even this many months into your assignment with the 141. The second he moves, that fight or flight instinct screams flee, idiot! and you flinch.

He stops before touching you, sighing like an overburdened elementary school teacher. "You did it again," he says.

You fall out of the stance and raise your hands helplessly. "What do you expect me to do? You ever see yourself in a mirror?"

He ignores that latter question. "I expect you to defend yourself," he replies. "You're gonna meet people far bigger than me out there."

Doubt it, you think. You don't need to remind him that you have gone into the field before, and that you earned your place in the 141 through skill and tenacity. However, at this point, you still haven't seen someone like Ghost out there.

"Okay," you say, rallying yourself and raising your hands again. "I got this. Big, scary dude coming at me. No problem."

You think he raises a brow at you. Not something you can see, but you feel it. "You sure?"

"Yeah. Yep. Totally good."

Ghost goes back into the first pose with his arms out. He hunkers down, looming at the edge of the mat like a very large specter of the imminent end, and yet all you can think is can you use those arms for something else, please.

Which is why you miss the two second warning, and promptly get knocked off your feet by a skeleton-garbed missile of a man.

Because it turns out that he only corrected your stance from the waist up, and you completely forgot what to do with your legs. You didn't brace, didn't set your feet shoulder-width apart to lower your center of gravity and make you more solid. That, and Ghost has such a size advantage of you that it feels a hell of a lot like someone shooting a grenade launcher at a lawn chair.

All to say, you topple and hit the mat hard. Air whuffs out of your lungs, compressed under the sheer weight of Ghost. Sparks dance in your vision for one hot second before you come back to yourself, registering aches in brand new places and the feeling of one of Ghost's (impressively beefy) thighs between your legs.

Unfortunately, robbed of all oxygen, all you manage to eke out is a sad wheeze.

"Fuck," Ghost groans. He manages to hoist himself up on his forearms, lifting the stone weight off your chest so you're not getting compressed like a panini. "Ugh. You okay?"

It takes an embarrassingly long time to get your breath back, and a moment longer to work around the ache in your ribs from having a bulldozer of a man on your chest—not even in a sexy way. "Yeaaahhh," you force out, gritting your teeth and blinking away the last jittery sparkles in your vision. "Gimme a second."

He does, but you register that he's not getting off of you. In fact, he's holding pretty damn steady and not doing something in the name of good teamwork like, say, standing up and helping you off the mat, or asking if you need medical assistance, or making fun of you. Instead, he's most definitely staying quiet, and when you look at him, you suddenly feel pinned anew.

Because he's staring, and it's made so much more intense by the greasepaint around his eyes, drawing out his dark eyes by contrast. You feel his gaze like added weight, and it keeps you still, unable to scoot out from under him even though he's given you room to do so.

Your breathing's back online, but it's not steady, and your mouth is very, very dry.

"Um," is all you can say, and you're proud of yourself for getting that much out.

His eyes flick down, watching your mouth move. They widen when you lick your bottom lip to give it some reprieve.

There's no training for to do in this situation.

And there's certainly no training for— for lifting up his damn mask and revealing a mouth that you're pretty sure you've had wet dreams about. Plush lips, faint silvery scars, fine stubble. God damn, and he was keeping this a secret.

"Ghost," you try again, searching for anything to say. Any word, any question, any kind of affirmation that can give you a litmus test on what the hell is going on here.

Rather than explaining himself, his eyes find yours again and he says—in the lowest of low rumbling voices, "Is this okay?"

How do you say yes or, perhaps, fuck yes without sounding desperate? It's like he reached into your head and plucked out those fantasies you've kept under lock and key since you joined on and saw him for the first time. Hell, you're not totally sure this isn't one of those dreams right now.

So you nod. Just two quick jerks of the head, fabric on the mat definitely fucking up your hair. You can hear the static next to your ear, but you could care less.

Because once Ghost's lips are on yours, nothing matters.

He's so warm, lips deceptively soft (what did you think, they were going to be as calloused as his fingers?), the tang of sweat on his skin, his forearms bracketing you. He's in every direction, kissing you and siphoning out the air again, leaving you gasping when he pulls back.

One breath.

Two.

And he kisses you again, like a confirmation that yes, this is very real and it's happening to you. He didn't trip and fall and kiss you on the way down. His right arm comes up so his fingers brush against your cheek, and then he cups the side of your face with his enormous palm. You open your mouth against his, tasting him, hearing his heavy breathing in tandem with your own.

At the same time, your mind rushes to make all the connections to figure out how you got here, how Ghost is on top of you when he's supposed to be teaching you how to defend yourself. How—

How you missed all of those signals.

Too-long glances at meetings; hands brushing yours when he passed you documents, ammo, rations, a radio; the way he kept close to your six so it was never undefended; every nickname from him teeming with a little more whimsy than you thought him capable of. Never once did you stop and consider if that was how he treated everyone in the 141, or if that was saved for you.

You never asked the question, but you're sure as hell getting an answer.

His tongue brushes against yours, sealed between your lips, teasing whines out of you. He hums in satisfaction, or possibly pleasure; vaguely, you wonder if he's wanted this just as badly, or if this is a spur of the moment decision and he's enjoying the payoff. Regardless, you can't ignore the slight pressure of his thigh between your legs, riding up higher and higher until—

Until you get an incredibly stupid idea.

He doesn't get a two second warning. What he gets is your arms around his back—the hug you wanted and now he gets—and the sudden upward jerk of motion that sends him flailing backwards. In a move you had no idea you were capable of, he's now on his back, mask still riding up to his nose, eyes wide, expression damn near cartoonish.

"Wh—" is all he gets out before you're kissing him.

You're the one bracketing his hips with your thighs. You're the one pinning him down and making him breathless. And, damnit, once you pull back enough to get a look at his face, you're the one getting him to look up at you like he's seeing you for the first time.

You grin, leaning in close and whispering, "Is it supposed to feel like this?"

He licks his lips, and your eyes trace the trail of his tongue. "Like what?" he asks, quieter now than you've ever heard him.

Your answer is another firm kiss, the ache in your muscles shifting course and alchemizing into something far hotter, liquid heat settling between you. And you pull back one more time, dropping your head so your lips brush his ear. You swear you feel him shudder.

"I think we have a few more forms to go through," you say.

#cod: mw2 #mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader

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suzukiblu · 5 months

Note

currently having EMOTIONS abt your 'Billy adopts kon and it goes p good actually'. Billy's there just like oh man I'm rambling they're gonna think I'm so lame...meanwhile I as a reader (and presumably also Kon and possibly the other characters present??) are actually going 'oh my god. oh my god he's known Kon for like one singular minute and already arranged a flat according to his best predictions of Kon's needs/wants, gave Kon FIRST PICK OF BEDROOM, and has freely offered to learn how to cook AND how to drive for the sole purpose of taking better care of Kon'. like. oh my god. oh my god. Billy is so precious and I want to give him a hug. I hope Kon isn't too overwhelmed or suspicious due to Billy's enthusiasm tho lmao. (pls could there be..more? more Billy adopts kon, if possible?) anyway I love ur writing. thank you. idk how to ask from a sidelong but this is tryingahandinholdingapen btw :D

I gotchu, friend, lol. @tryingahandinholdingapen But yeah I love a good unreliable narrator, one way or the other it's just so fun peppering in all the bits of "the actual situation that the narrator is oblivious to", hahaha.

Rich people are weird, Billy decides, then sets the swiss rolls and zebra cakes and rest of the strawberry shortcakes on the counter in case Kid Flash is still hungry or Superboy wants any of them and closes the pantry. Batman’s just doing his best, he guesses. Though Billy hopes he knows how to coupon, if he’s always buying brand-name.

Well, he’s Batman. It’d be weirder if he didn’t know how to coupon, Billy figures.

It looks like Superboy ate all of his snack cake while Billy and Kid Flash were in the pantry, at least, which Billy hopes means he liked it. He doesn’t know how much real food Superboy’s had, but Batman’d said he should be fine eating solid stuff and not just whatever he’d been getting in his cloning pod. Though Billy’d still asked if they could get some bottled smoothies and protein shakes and stuff like that to keep in the fridge, just in case. He figured those might be easier for him to eat and digest, if it came up. Or like, maybe appeal to him more, if nothing else?

Billy has no idea, honestly, he’s just doing his best here. The wisdom of Solomon is pretty useful but it’s not really, like, that much of a parenting guide.

He is not going to cut Superboy in half. Like, ever. Like he understands the idea of that story but also it is an insane and incredibly freaky story and he is just not invoking it, ever. Just no way.

“If it’s alright, Captain, we should get going. We’ve got a bit of a drive to get home,” Mrs. West says, then sighs as Kid Flash empties the boxes of swiss rolls and zebra cakes in lightning-fast succession, though he leaves the strawberry shortcakes alone. Billy checks in the fridge and offers him a couple of the more filling smoothies–peanut butter and banana should be more filling, anyway, even with a speedster’s appetite. He steals those from convenience stores sometimes, when he can. He can’t be Captain Marvel all the time.

Well–maybe he could, he guesses. But he does miss being himself, sometimes.

“Thanks, man,” Kid Flash says eagerly, then immediately shotguns both smoothies.

“Wally,” Mr. West says in exasperation as Mrs. West sighs again. “Don’t eat Captain Marvel out of house and home.”

“It’s okay, we’ve got lots of food!” Billy promises cheerfully. “I work with Flash, I know how hungry he gets. I bet it’s way worse when you still have growth spurts to get through.”

“It is so much worse,” Kid Flash mutters vehemently, eyeing the empty smoothie bottles in his hands accusingly. Billy gets him another peanut butter banana one on principle. He really doesn’t want Kid Flash to be that hungry. It’s . . . not a good feeling.

“We appreciate it, Captain, really, but we’ve got snacks and a cooler in the car,” Mrs. West says.

“Oh, good,” Billy says, relieved. Mr. and Mrs. West both give him strange, inscrutable looks, then glance back to Superboy. Billy wonders if he likes peanut butter banana smoothies. Though if he liked the snack cakes, there’s strawberry banana ones too, so that might be better? And strawberry kiwi, but that’s probably less filling. “Superboy, do you want a smoothie too?”

“No,” Superboy says. Billy pauses again, then gets him a strawberry banana one and tosses it over. Superboy catches it, eyes it, and then opens it and takes a sip.

Okay, Billy thinks he’s getting the hang of this. But also they should probably talk about how “no” needs to actually mean “no”. Like, for Superboy he’s sure it’s just like that phase when toddlers want to say “no” to everything no matter what, but it’s still important for him to understand. Billy doesn’t want to accidentally upset him or overstep because Superboy doesn’t know how to really say “no” to something.

Yeah, they definitely need to talk about that, he decides.

#tryingahandinholdingapen #wip: billy adopts conner and it actually goes pretty good!#long post

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sunkissed-zegras · 8 months

Note

🍁 for luke?!

congrats again on 100!! 🫶🏻

AAAAAA TYSM LOVE !!!!!! enjoy this blurb lmao, i love lukey pookie <3

he's so 1989. idk why but he just gives off that vibe. OKAY. HE'S VERY 'how you get the girl' (he for sure got the girl in this one lmao)

luke doesn't know how the hell he ended up at your house.

it was a 11:30 on a random tuesday, he knows you're asleep but he can't, even though he knows he has early morning practice tomorrow and a whole day of classes. his mind is racing, but so is this heart.

it was raining and he's still in his pajamas, too. his new jersey devils pj's really fit the whole mood. he rolled his eyes at himself ─ why didn't he change?

it had been six months since you two had broken up. well, not exactly. tomorrow morning, or in 20 minutes time, it would be exactly 6 months since you two had broke up. he knew this because he had been anxiously counting the days until your break-up was official.

ever since luke was little, jack would always tell him that break-up's weren't official until the 6 month mark which basically gave them a 'grace period' to get back together. and even now, as a whole adult, he applies it to everything.

he doesn't even know why he was here. he knew you had moved on ─ he saw all those guys you were with at the bar the other night, you weren't hurting anymore. still, that stupid rule made everything so much worse. knowing that after this period, you wouldn't even be thinking about him anymore made him sick.

he decided, an hour ago, that he was gonna get you back that night. he finally let out a big exhale and closed his eyes, getting out of the car and into the rain, walking up to your driveway and to your front door.

he quickly rang the doorbell twice ─ it was your guys' inside joke, knocking twice or ringing the doorbell twice was some kind of code for one another.

he heard some faint footsteps and he straightened his posture, letting out a loud exhale before you opened the door.

your eyes widened at the sight. your ex, luke hughes, standing outside your door in the rain, a few minutes before midnight. he could see the grogginess on your face and suddenly felt a tinge of guilt.

his curly hair was soaking wet and so were his pj's and you almost cringed at the sight. then you saw his face, his cute, stupid face. your heart fluttered at the sight, like it always did when you saw him, even when he was being a fucking asshole.

"luke, what are you doing here?" you shouted over the rain, that was starting to become more than just a midnight shower.

"i-i..." he didn't even know what to say. he let out a loud exhale before speaking again. "i miss you, y/n. i really, really miss you. i can't sleep, i keep repeating that fight over and over again and every time, i wish i had said something different. anything else would've been better."

your heart broke again at those words as you were transported back to that night. you shook your head, you didn't wanna relive that after you'd tried so hard to get over it all these months. "oh, you can't sleep?" you said, sarcastically. "i have repeated that night over and over again too, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. for a while, i even blamed myself─"

"it's not your fault, it was mine!"

"yeah, i know that now." you spoke bitterly at the boy, who was now shaking from the now, heavy rainfall. "i wish you had said something different, too, luke. but now we both have to live with the conseque─"

"fuck, y/n!" he grunted in frustration. "i'm so mad at myself for letting that happen, i'm so sorry for doing that to you."

you let those few words sink in. luke hughes was not one to ever apologize, you knew that. that was one of the reasons why you two had ended things and hearing those words come out of his mouth felt somewhat therapeutic. "luke─"

"y/n, please just let me talk!" he shouted over the rain. "if i could go back in time i would. if i could just... erase all of it, i would. but i can't. and i know i'm selfish for even asking this but i want you back. no one compares to you and no one ever will, y/n. i've tried, i really have. but i lost you once and i'll be damned if i lost you again if you just gave me another chance.”

that whole monologue sounded like it was right outta a movie. you didn't know how to feel ─ or how to react. you felt so many emotions wash over you and you took another good look at luke.

his curly hair, his soft skin, his entire face just took you back to when you two were together ─ the good times, too. summer at the lake house with his family, late night car rides for drinks, sunday night dates because he insisted that saturdays were for the boys, and especially, his soft touch.

luke's heart was beating out of his chest and he knew he was going to catch a cold because of how long he'd been standing outside, but all of that wouldn't matter if you just took him back. he watched your expression change and he swears he felt like a million tons had just been lifted off his chest as you opened up the door for him to come in.

"alright, luke. fine, one more chance. one, and if you fuck up, it's over and it will be over for the rest of our lives, got it?"

that sweet smile graced his lips for the first time tonight as he walked into your home, exhaling deeply. "got it."

you both stared into each other's eyes, your heart beating fast as a smile plastered on your face as well. then, luke smashed his lips against yours and pushed you against the door. "won't make you regret it, princess."

MY 100 FOLLOWER CELLY!

#── ✦ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲!#nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl #nhl oneshot #hockey #luke hughes x oc #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fic #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x y/n #nj devils #hughes brothers #new jersey devils #nj devils imagine

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abigolemess · 10 months

Note

hey i hope you're doing well!! could i req a hobie smut where like. idk. maybe they're fucking and someone walks in on them?

I'm a slut for a quickie in a place your def not supposed to be fucking in :) also, still bad at writing Hobie's speech

Warnings/tags: hobie brown x fem!reader, reader is also a spiderperson, smut, quickie, p in v, cumming inside (no protection, we risky out here), exhibitionism, hobie and reader get caught, fem!reader, let me know if I missed any

Word count: 395 (short n sweet)

"Fuck! Hobie, please," you moaned before Hobie clasps his hand over your mouth. You clenched around him.

"Shit, babe. 'Hafta remember to be quiet. 'Feels good, yeah?"

For some reason, Hobie thought it would be fun to have a quickie in one of the supply closets at Spider Society. You can't blame him though. You were horny and feeling just as spontaneous as he was. Every now and then, you could hear spiderpeople walking past and the thrill of getting caught just fueled the both of you even more.

Hobie held you against the wall, your back facing him. Hobie's other hand reached around to your clit, playing with the sensitive nub. Your muffled moans vibrated against his mouth as he came close to your ear.

"You don't want to be quiet, do ya love? Want everyone to hear how good my cock feels sliding in 'n out of your pussy?" Hobie whispered. Your thighs clenched around his hand.

"Oh, love. Don't go shy on me now. Open those legs up for me pretty girl." You obeyed his command. "Good fucking girl. You-"

"What the fuck?! Hobie, you're disgusting, ugh," you heard Jessica's voice yell. "Get out of here!"

Hobie kept fucking you as he responded. "Nah, mate. I'm kinda busy here." He smirked. Jessica grabbed what she needed and slammed the door. You blushed at the interaction between the two of them.

"You liked that, huh. Getting caught? Your pussy's droolin' all over my cock, babe. You gonna cum?" Your moans of approval were muffled by Hobie's hand still, his other hand working with his cock to push you off the edge. Hobie increased his speed. "Cum on my cock, love." Once again, you obeyed his demand and convulsed around him, causing him to reach his peak as well. His cum coated your walls before he pulled out of you and began to get dressed again.

"C'mon, love. Let's get out of here 'fore Miguel finds us." He placed a kiss on your shoulder and began to help you put your spider suit back on. After you got dressed, Hobie slowly opened the door and checked for anyone walking by. You pushed past him and opened a portal using your watch. "Beat you to my apartment!" You say running into the portal.

"Little cheater, I like it," Hobie said before jumping in after you.

#abigolemess #smut #hobie brown smut #hobie brown #spiderman atsv #spiderverse

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blondeboyfriend · 1 year

Text

𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Meguru Bachira x reader [ SYNOPSIS ] You're Bachira's good luck charm. idk there's no plot, don't think too hard about it. [ WORD COUNT ] 1.6k [ CONTENT ] Aged up!Bachira, he went pro (ayyyy), knife play, blood play, sadomasochism, praise, marking, scars, y/n is kinda needy (but so is he), vaginal sex, size kink (I believe in big dick Bachira), teasing, nipple play, overstimulation, pet names (baby), creampie.

You hated away games, loathed them. They were an inevitable occurrence, something you should have grown used to over time. But still the night before every flight you spiraled, lamenting that you couldn’t follow Bachira around. It wasn’t because you were insecure or lacked trust; you just hated sleeping alone. There was nothing more disappointing than rolling over in bed at three in the morning, reaching for him, and then remembering, Ah, yeah. He’s in Sapporo. You had always assumed you’d build up a callus, one to protect you from the melancholy known to overwhelm you on those lonely nights.

Unfortunately every away game was a wound reopened.

In six hours Bachira would be flying first class to Fukuoka, sleeping with his face pressed against the window. His team’s manager was less than enthused with this arrangement. He thought it was ridiculous to spend an extra day at home and fly out the day of the game, but denying the left back was easier said than done. Bachira’s beguiling whimsy and immense talent rendered most people under his spell. The world was effectively his for the taking, his manager no different.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you sighed.

You tried to ignore the looming dread that hung around you, but it was nigh impossible while straddling him. He fluttered his long, dark eyelashes and looked up, leaving you bewitched by his golden gaze. It radiated a fervent adoration no other man was capable of. He was artful in his mastery, his affection unmatched.

“I know,” he said, pinching your cheek.

You batted his hand away.

“You sure you don’t want to get some rest? I’ll feel moderately guilty if you fuck up tomorrow.”

“Stop,” he whined. “I’ll be fine. It’s a short flight and it’s not like I’m gonna be playing the second I get there.”

He would be fine, he always was. He had his ways; the absurd things he did in the name of good luck never failed him. So you surrendered yourself and bought into his vision like you had many times before. There was nothing to worry about, all you needed to do was trust him.

Still you couldn’t hide your melancholic expression. You’d miss him all the same, win or lose.

“C’mon. You believe in me, don’t you?” he asked. He gave you a cat-like grin, one that would make you sign your life over to him.

“Yes, yes, yes. I believe you.”

“Then what is it?” he asked, tickling your sides.

You groaned. “I’m—ugh—I told you. I'm going to miss you, alright”

“Aww. I could come inside you if that’ll help,” he teased.

“You were going to do that anyway!”

He playfully stuck out his tongue as he slipped his hands under your shirt. His hands were big and weighty, but his fingers were elegant. His palms rough; his touch tender. He tugged at the hem of the shirt and giggled.

“You thief,” he said, pulling it off of you. “I was looking for this while I was packing.”

“Not my fault it’s the perfect nightgown.”

He tossed it in the general location of his half-packed suitcase.

“At least it’ll smell like me now,” you said coyly.

He sat up and buried his face in your neck, taking in the scent of your skin. He let out a dreamy sigh as he exhaled. It was such a lovely noise, one you wanted to hear again and again. You reached down and stroked his soft cock. You pulled back his foreskin and rubbed your thumb around his sensitive tip. He shivered with delight.

“I need all my stuff to smell like you. Go roll around in my suitcase for a little bit.”

“How about I give you some pairs of dirty underwear to remember me by instead?” you snickered as you squeezed the base of his cock.

He rutted against your fist. “Fine, but they have to be those tiny, cotton ones. They feel the best against my skin.”

“Anything for you.”

He looked so sweet lying beneath you. You braced yourself, placing your hands on his pecs, and felt the rise and fall of his chest. His warm skin was dappled with water, his sinewy body fresh out of the shower. The towel he haphazardly wrapped around his hair had unraveled, each strand exuding the scent of your shampoo. His cheeks were glassy, a sure sign he slathered on your facial serum and night cream. Even his skin smelled like yours. He wriggled under you, trying to guide your attention to his semi-erect cock. You decided you wanted to tease him a bit, make him earn it.

“Don’t you need a good night’s rest so you can win tomorrow?” you asked, dropping your arms to your sides.

He scoffed. “I have my ways,” he said, eyes fixed on the thin scars etched on your upper chest.

You decided to change your tune. Wasting time was criminal.

“Hm. Remind me of what those are. I forgot.”

He grinned and began to dig around the bedside table for his tools. He pulled out a wooden box with a floret of goldenrod painted on the lid. Inside were some single-use scalpels and a modest first aid kit. He pulled you close, hand resting on the small of your back, and licked the cluster of scars. Each one was a thin line about an inch in length and spaced close together like tally marks. They were all perfectly straight, the handiwork of a master. You were proud to bear them.

Bachira held the scalpel between his fingers, his eyes narrowed and focused. You froze like a statue awaiting the chisel of a sculptor. The blade glided across your skin; you barely registered the sensation.

“Deeper,” you urged.

He ran the blade across the slit once more. Blood trickled freely from the wound. He made another cut underneath. It was deeper and hurt more than the first one. He watched as the blood made its way down your breasts and let out a giddy whine as it clung to your nipple. Unable to contain himself he swirled his tongue around it. Your cunt throbbed as he held it in between his teeth. He looked up at you, his eyes wild with adoration. You loved seeing him like this. You felt special, like you were the only person in the world that mattered.

He licked up the trails of blood before rolling his tongue against the cuts. It was like getting stung by bees. You loved finding ecstasy in the ache. You’d forever be in debt to Bachira for aiding you in your libertine awakening, for leading you hand-in-hand down the proverbial primrose path. He was the first to show how to walk the line between pain and pleasure.

“Wanna fuck you so bad,” he whimpered before sucking on your breast once more.

You lifted his chin and kissed him. You ran your tongue over his lips, the taste of your blood still lingering on them. He eagerly opened his mouth, overtaking yours. His kisses were always sloppy, wet, and needy. His desperate passion knew no bounds and you wouldn't have it any other way. You slowly stroked his cock, his precum sliding in between your fingers.

He panted, “I need it now.”

You kissed his forehead and slid his cock inside your dripping cunt. He tossed his head back and let out a heavenly moan. You bounced up and down, driving his cocktip into your cervix. His girth was a gift from god. You felt so full, almost like you would burst at the seams.

He lapped at the blood trickling from your cuts. You tangled your fingers in his damp hair, letting the strands snake around them. You wanted to become a part of him, for your bodies to meld into one. Both of you were swept up in a euphoric frenzy. As he rutted against you he pinched your swollen clit. He couldn’t help but smile in the face of your desperate yelps.

“Gentle! Gentle!” you said, squirming.

It was too strong a sensation. You were so full as it was; you weren’t sure you could weather another intense sensation. You felt like his cock was buried deep in your stomach.

“Ah,” you winced. “Me—Meguru, it’s too mu—”

He forced you to look at him, his yellow eyes overwhelmed by dark pupils, and sweetly said, “Your body can take it.”

Five words was all it took to bewitch you. He alternated between pinching your clit and massaging it. You felt like you were ascending as your orgasm inched closer.

“You gonna come all over my cock?” he asked.

“Uh-huh,” you whined.

His thrusts were relentless, not a hint of mercy in his touch. It was maddening. You kept babbling his name, begging him for more. Shame was a concept neither of you were familiar with. Neither of you could quiet yourselves. It was a chorus of panting, whimpering, and moaning. As your orgasm crescendoed all you could do was choke out a few expletives and drool.

“That’s it, baby,” Bachira said, jaw clenched and completely charmed by your demeanor.

He held you close and took the lead, driving his cock into your cunt, lips pressed against your still bleeding cuts. You felt like you were operating on a different plane of existence. The only thing that brought you back to reality was the warm feeling of Bachira’s cum filling you up. You collapsed in his arms, and tried to catch your breath.

“Was… that… helpful?” you murmured.

“Oh yeah. I’m gonna bring you home a win,” he purred against your ear.

#bachira meguru x reader #meguru bachira x reader #bachira x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk smut #blue lock smut #bachira smut #.fics #.bllk #.bachira #x reader #reader insert

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restinslices · 5 months

Text

If Kuai Liang Was A Sub

This has been sitting on my docs and for whatever reason, I didn’t post it. Anyway imma make the same disclaimer I did for Bi-Han’s part. I am a virgin. I get zero bitches. Absolutely zero play. Take everything I say with a grain of salt and if you think it’s inaccurate then damn. Idk. Minors MOOOOVEEE.

I feel like unlike Bi-Han, he'd be way more accepting of his role. Bi-Han is like, "sub? could never be me!", and Kuai Liang is like "yeah, absolutely"

I could see foreplay being his thing. To him, what adds up to sex is just as important as sex.

Honestly I think he'd see all parts of sex as equally important. The leading up to, the actual act, and the aftercare.

Remember when I said Bi-Han pissed you off on purpose because he enjoyed punishments? I don't think Kuai Liang would be like that.

Don't get me wrong, he could do stupid shit at times or break rules but I feel like it'd legit be on accident.

Like you'd tell him he can't touch you as you ride him, but he'd completely forget that and do it anyway.

Your pleasure to him would be the most important. If he doesn't cum, it's a bummer. But you not cumming? Absolutely not.

He moans loudly and gasps. idk why I get this vibe, but I do.

He's also shameless. I feel like if someone was like "I heard you having sex last night", Bi-Han would be confrontational. Tomas would be embarrassed. Kuai Liang would apologize but would turn around and ask you to fuck him harder this time.

Because let's bffr, what is anyone gonna do to him?

He'd be into being tied up by his own ropes. It'll be all he could think of when he's using them in other situations and honestly? Gets him determined to return home to you.

Kinks I'd think he'd have would be restraints, overstimulation, roleplay, orgasm control, praise and/or degradation (idk if he'd like one over the other. pick whichever you like), and dare I say a knife kink?

Obviously don't fucking stab him but some threatening? He's into it.

He loves making you feel good and loves when you use him to make yourself feel good

Adding onto that, idk why but he's giving "ride me in my sleep" energy. consensually of course, this would obviously be something discussed.

I can't put my finger on why, but I just really feel like he'd enjoy waking up to you using him. Maybe he enjoys the thought that you constantly want him. Once again though, this would be something discussed beforehand. Don't just try this shit at home. This would require lots of talks, boundaries, knowing when it'd be ok, shit like that. imma say it again, do not randomly try this shit.

A punishment I think he'd hate is not being able to touch you. He'd be away a lot on Liu Kang's orders, so when you're together he wants to touch you so he remembers it when he's away. When you're having sex, he especially wants to touch you. So you saying "no" would be hard for him

I know we're mainly talking about sex but I think it'd be more than that for him. I'm not saying you control everything he does but this man is probably stressed out all the time. He has two brothers who have constant beef (which is one sided fr), he's probably still missing his dad, he's constantly risking his life for others, and life just has a lot of bullshit going on.

Serving Earthrealm means he's always doing stuff for other people. So sometimes he likes when you're the one choosing what he'll do for the day because he knows you'll pick stuff that would benefit him. Does that make sense?

Like, non sexually you may say “hey I want you to go take a long bath, then put some clothes on. I already have the water and your clothes ready”. Shit like that. Don't get it misconstrued, you're not becoming his mom. You're just taking more of a leadership role, which he appreciates.

Sexually though, it'd tie into orgasm control. You'd tell him what to do, where to touch, when to stop, where to look, etc. He knows whatever you're having him do is to make him feel good. To put himself first, which he has a hard time doing.

I'm not saying y'all don't have straight “I'm tryna fuck” type of sex, but I think he'd enjoy some soft stuff occasionally. Helps him relax.

As for aftercare I think unlike Bi-Han, he'd enjoy talking after. Especially depending on what was going on.

Softer sex probably results in cuddling then talking about whatever. Something more intense would include a breather, checking in, then whatever else he needs. Sometimes it's a bath immediately, sometimes it's playing with his hair to bring him back down.

Sometimes it's you reminding him that he's doing his best. Sex can be a good way to relieve tension, but it's not a permanent fix. You like to remind him that he's a good person and sometimes bad shit happens to good people. Just a nice deep chat.

He gives me “I'm tryna find my wife” at the club vibes, idk. is that outta line?😭

He's not as soft as Tomas but he's not as hardheaded as Bi-Han. He's a nice in between.

Y’all already know Tomas is next. Stay tuned

#Kuai Liang #kuai liang x reader #kuai liang x y/n #kuai liang mk1 #kuai liang scorpion #kuai liang smut #scorpion smut #sub kuai liang #sub character #sub scorpion #Ngl he’s my favorite #mk1 smut #mortal kombat smut

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softspiderling · 2 years

Text

speak now (or forever hold your peace) | b.r.b.

summary: it's supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

pairing: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x reader

warnings: angst??? IDK! also violence

word count: 5,5k

author’s note: this has been sitting in my drafts for SO LONG! and then i decided to write the entire fucking thing, i'm not even joking, this fic was very much different two days ago but i have been waiting for the perfect moment and i guess it’s now🤭 thank you to sol who has been expressing her excitement for this fic (and we laughed about taylor swift inspired fics, bc this is OBVIOUSLY inspired by speak now (and that one japril moment. you know which one)). I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!!

Fixing the collar of his suit, Bradley stared at his reflection in the mirror. He had opted against his dress-whites, knowing you preferred him in a normal suit. Now however, he severely regretted it, missing the layer of protection his dress-whites provided him. He felt stuffy in the suit, vulnerable. He wondered if there was still enough time to go home and change, when there was a knock on the door.

“Hey, you just gonna stay in here for the whole ceremony?”

Natasha was eyeing him carefully, not an ounce of shame present on her face, even though she was standing halfway in the men’s bathroom. Bradley put up a brave face, but he knew that she’d see right through it. God, he could already see the pitiful looks on his friends as soon as he’d step out the door again.

“I just- needed to fix my bowtie,” Bradley sniffed, straightening said bow-tie before turning to look at her. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re good, right? No regrets? No desire to ditch?”

Bradley looked back into the mirror to avoid Natasha’s gaze, resisting the urge to run his hands through his hair. He had been thinking about ditching the second he entered the venue, but that would just be taking the easy way out. You were his friend, and he should be there for arguably one of the most important days of your life. His own feelings be damned.

“No, this is her wedding. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. It just… Sucks.”

Natasha didn’t reply, clearly waiting for him to elaborate, her arms crossed over her chest. Judging by her face, he wouldn’t get around it. She always disapproved of the reasons why you and him didn’t work out.

“I mean. I knew that this day would eventually come. She’s always been open about wanting to get married and you know, settling down and all. But I thought I had more time to get over her. I mean, I probably won’t ever get over her, but... I sound stupid, don’t I?”

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation in Natasha’s voice and Bradley shot her a pained look. With a sigh, she uncrossed her arms and fully stepped inside the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it.

“I’m sorry you feel this way. You know how I always used to say that the two of you were kind of perfect together. Honestly, I still think that. But it’s literally the day of her wedding. You made your bed, now you have to lie in it. It’s too late now.”

Bradley’s chest tightened, and nodded quickly, dropping his gaze to the floor. “Yeah… Yeah I know.”

“I’m sorry,” Natasha said, reaching out to squeeze arm. “I wish things would’ve been different.”

So did he.

With a deep breath, Bradley glanced at the mirror one last time, before he put his hand on the door knob, straightening his shoulders. “Okay. Let’s go, before you get caught trying to sneak a peak.”

Bradley stepped out of the bathroom and was immediately thrown back into the bustling crowd, full of nicely dressed people. Even Callie, your maid of honor, had cleaned up nicely.

“Hey, wasn’t sure you’d make it,” she said, not unkind, eyeing him up and down. “She’s down the hall, if you want to say hi.”

Bradley gave her a curt nod, before leaving Natasha to her girlfriend, walking down the hall, looking over his shoulder as the two women watched him go, conversing quietly. Callie had been cold ever since you broke up with him, treating him cordially, like a colleague, but never as a friend. And he didn't blame her, really.

He knocked on the brown door, before stepping inside, where you were sitting in front of the vanity, dressed in a white fluffy robe.

“Hey. How’s the blushing bride?”

“Hi,” you said and he smiled at you, somewhat sorrowfully, taking a seat on the ottoman across from you. “I’m kind of nervous.”

“Pretty sure that’s normal wedding day jitters,” Bradley joked.

You gave him a self-deprecating smile, clearly lost in thoughts.

“You okay?”

Bradley’s brows furrowed in worry as he took in your face and the slight frown. People said that wedding jitters were especially nerve-wracking, but you had always been a champ. And you had been looking forward to your wedding day ever since you were a little girl, he knew that.

“Yeah. Just can’t believe it’s finally my wedding day, you know?”

Bradley pressed his lips together, cupping your cheek gently. “I’m happy for you. Henry is a good man and he treats you the way you deserve to be treated. I’m really glad that you found someone who can give you what you want.”

Even though I wish I could give you what you needed.

You smiled at him, your eyes glassy. Wedding jitters really were something, huh?

“Guess your life plan really is on its track, isn’t it?”

You choked out a laugh and he grinned at you warmly, squeezing your hand. He grabbed a tissue from the vanity, pressing it gently against your lower lash line so as to not ruin your make-up.

“Do you want me to give you away?”

“W-what?”

He flushed, realizing his poor choice of words.

“Do you want me to walk you down the aisle?” he rephrased and you chuckled drily, shaking your head.

“Oh, um, no. I’m good, thank you.”

Nodding, Bradley stood to leave, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, holding onto your shoulder a bit too long than necessary before walking towards the door. He paused, just before crossing over the threshold, turning back like he wanted to say something. Bradley took a deep breath, his lips parted, the words almost tumbling out of his mouth, before he shut his mouth and just like that, he stepped out of the room, the falling shut behind him quietly.

Bradly breathed out harshly, rubbing a hand over his face, wondering if you were thinking about the same thing he was.

“Where is this going, Bradley?”

Bradley’s been ordered for a special deployment overseas. It was all hush-hush, and he didn’t know how long it was going to take and it made you face the impending doom of your relationship. Honestly, he knew it was stupid to start something with you in the first place. From the first time you talked, you had made it clear that you wanted to find a good man and settle down, have a family and a house with a white picket fence.

Something he could never give you.

He was still young when his father had died, but he grew up watching his mother juggle with the job of a parent, a job that was supposed to be filled by two parents. Bradley swore that he’d never do this to anyone he loved, that he’d never settle down and have a family himself.

You didn’t have time to date someone and “see where this is going”. Even so, Bradley had always orbited you, drawn to your carefree attitude and your fierce loyalty towards the people you loved. His stance on settling down was about the only thing that held the two of you back. Instead, you danced around each other, flirted mercilessly, were friends.

Just friends.

But after a night full of tequila shots and Bradley on the piano, he got weak. And he’d been weak ever since.

Things with you were simple, and it was almost scary how the two of you fell into a relationship that was so intense and burning, he should have known that this would blow up in his face one day.

“What do you mean? The mission isn’t going to take forever, half a year tops. You’ll still be here when I get back, yeah?”

He pulled one of his signature Hawaiian shirts out of his closet and threw it over his tank top, barely paying attention to the conversation.

“Bradley, I am serious.”

With a glance over his shoulder, Bradley took one look at your face, before he crossed the distance between you, sitting on the bed. Lifting his hand, he stroked your cheek gently, a somber look on his face.

“I want to get married.”

The words visibly cut him and Bradley immediately shut down, shaking his head as he pulled his hand away. Deep down, he’d known that this conversation was coming. He had been pushing it off, distracting you with slow kisses and wandering hands, but there was no pushing it off now. “You know I don’t want to. You’ve always known. Why are you bringing this up?”

“You’ve always known what I wanted, Bradley. What is it, what we’re doing here? Are we just gonna keep dating until we’re old?”

“Why are you turning this into an argument?” Bradley asked defensively, his cheeks turning red, like every time he got mad. “Fine, we both knew going into this that we’ve had different plans for the future, but I thought-”

“You thought what? That I’d just abandon the life I’ve always wanted?”

“This isn’t fair,” Bradley snapped. “Why can’t you respect my decision? It’s perfectly normal not to want to get married.”

“I respect your decision,” you said calmly and Bradley paused, his chest heaving as all the anger suddenly left his body.

“Then what’s all this about?”

“It’s about me respecting my decision and what I want. And-...” you swallowed thickly, words stuck in your throat. Bradley’s eyes widened when he realized what you were about to say. “I think we have to break up.”

“Now, hold on-”

“Do you want to get married? To me?”

“You know it’s not about you,” Bradley pressed, his breath quickening. “It’s- I am doing this for you!”

“It’s a simple question, Bradley.”

He opened his mouth, making a sound at the back of his throat, his eyes wide. Bradley didn’t really say anything, but it was enough for you to know. You smiled sadly, tears welling up in your eyes as you put your hands on his shoulders. “Maybe in another life… Maybe we will get our happy end then.” Pressing a soft kiss on his cheek, you left the room quietly, left him.

Bradley sat there for an hour, stupidly waiting as if you’d come back, even though he knew you weren’t.

The break up had been hard. But he knew that you made the decision with a clear head. It wasn’t fair of you to want him to change his mind on a principle he was set on and it wasn’t fair of Bradley to expect you to give up on marriage. Even though you went no contact with him, he had thought of you every single day while he was on deployment and when Bradley got back, he just begged for another one until he got shipped off to Japan.

When he got called back to Top Gun and bumped into Callie, he couldn’t help asking about you and somehow the two of you were drawn back together, like you were destined to be in his life. And when he first heard about your engagement from Callie, Bradley thought about going to your place and stealing you away, begging you to take him back.

Bradley wiped his sweaty hands as he walked between the chairs in the venue, before sitting down. He was jittery, and with Jake on the chair next to him, that probably wasn’t going to change any time soon.

“You sure you can make it through the ceremony?”

Bradley detected a hint of concern in the other man’s voice and he gave him a nervous smile, nodding. Jake clapped his leg gently, not entirely convinced, but there wasn’t any time to question him further, as the wedding march started playing. Bradley, along with the other guests, stood up. Your bridesmaids floated down the aisle where Henry was already next to the minister, looking perfectly fine in his steamed suit. The entire wedding party looked like a match-made in heaven, dressed in soft colors, but when you appeared at the end of the aisle?

You took his breath away.

As you slowly walked past all of your guests, Bradley felt the sudden urge to grab your arm and run, so he stuffed his hands into his pockets, shifting from one foot to the other. You gave him a small smile when you passed him and the one he returned was rather crummy. It should’ve been him waiting for you at the altar.

God, he was a mess.

Henry offered you his hand when you reached the bottom of the stairs, and together you ascended, stopping in front of the minister.

“Could you maybe try and sit still?” Jake hissed to Bradley’s side, but he could barely hear him. The minister was droning on and on as the happy couple stood at the front of the venue, but all Bradley could hear was the blood rushing to his ears. He thought he could do it, sit through the entirety of your wedding ceremony, congratulate you after and have a few drinks at the party, maybe even dance. But now that he was sitting here, watching you get married to another man? He thought he was going to get sick.

You and Henry turned around to look at your guests, smiles on your faces. Bradley’s mouth dropped open, and he suddenly felt so hot.

“And you, Y/N’s and Henry’s closest friends and family, are here today to bear witness to their union. Will you promise to love and support their marriage in all the days to come? If so, respond we will.”

“We will.”

The two words got stuck in his throat, even if he had wanted to, he couldn’t have uttered them. For a split-second, your eyes met Bradley’s and he shifted in his seat. You were smiling, but the smile never really reached your eyes. Taking a deep breath, Bradley shook his hands out before suddenly standing up. There was rustling between the seats as everyone turned to stare at him and Bradley started sweating when you furrowed your brows. Bradley opened his mouth, but he couldn’t find the words.

“Now’s not the time, Bradshaw,” Jake hissed, gently tugging on Bradley’s hand before he sat down again. Bradley exhaled deeply, wringing his hands and you blinked at him nervously, before turning back around, while Henry frowned at him for a second too long.

He knew that his friends were staring at him and Natasha leaned forward, subtly shaking her head at him, a horrified look on her face. But Bradley felt like he was suffocating if he didn’t speak up right now.

His hands were shaky as he got up once more, but his voice was strong, as it echoed through the room.

“Please don’t marry him.”

The minister stopped mid-sentence, and suddenly all eyes were on Bradley again. The silence was almost unbearable, his skin was prickling at the shocked and angry faces of everyone around him, but he had his eyes fixed on you. You were the only one that mattered.

“I love you,” Bradley said and the commotion he caused was nearly comical. “I made a mistake. I should’ve asked you to marry me the first time we kissed, because that was when I knew that I never wanted to spend a day without you ever again. I never should have let you leave, I should have fought for you. For us. I realize my timing is kind of shitty. I’m sorry it took me having to see you almost getting married to someone else to realize that,” Bradley swallowed thickly. “Don’t marry him. Please.”

When all of the words rushed out of his mouth, Bradley was relieved and terrified at the same time. Next to him, his friends’ reactions varied from covering their faces from embarrassment, mouth agape from the shock and just pure rage from Natasha. You were staring at him with wide eyes, your lower lip trembling. The tension was palpable and the longer it took for you to say something, anything, really at this point, Bradley started sweating, slowly processing what he had done. He was about to turn on his heel and run until he was in Canada when you bunched up the skirt of your wedding dress in your hands.

Walking down the stairs, you slowly approached him and Bradley held his breath as you stared up at him, face unreadable. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, his heart beating against his ribcage when you suddenly raised your hand and slapped him across the face.

The other guests gasped in shock and stunned, Bradley held his cheek, his mouth dropped open. With a shake of your head, you took off, running down the aisle until you disappeared around the corner. Callie quickly followed suit, giving Bradley a look of disbelief as she passed him. Bradley however was rooted in his spot, and nobody moved, nobody even dared to breathe.

When Bradley had to eject from his F18 during the mission, it was something he never wanted to experience again. His ears were ringing from the explosion and when he was ejected, all of the oxygen left his lungs. The air was splitting cold, almost burning against his warm skin and when he slowly parachuted down into the ground, pines and needles scratched up his face, before the freezing snow hit him in all the wrong places. Every single limb was screaming in pain and he was so cold.

This was worse.

Bradley exhaled deeply, trying to loosen the knot in his chest, but it only coiled in tighter, especially when Henry stalked towards him. Bradley hadn’t lied when he told you that he liked Henry, because he did. He was a good man. A good man, who was about to sock him in the face, judging by the way his hands were curled in fists.

Whatever was coming, he’d deserve it. But Bradley squeezed his eyes shut anyway, not wanting to get punched in the eye, and he braced for impact.

But it never came.

When he opened his eyes again, Jake had his hand wrapped around Henry’s wrist, his face hard.

“I know you’re angry, but this is not the solution. Walk it off,” Jake said evenly and Henry scoffed out a laugh, turning his wrist out of the other man’s grip.

“Get the fuck out of here.”

Henry came dangerously close to Bradley, his eyes furious, before he spat at his feet, storming off. Bradley was still frozen.

“We should probably go,” Javy said, gently pushing Jake so he’d move Bradley. “I know we’re a lot of people, but literally his whole family is here and I am not sure if I can fight Henry’s grandma.”

It was a scuffle to get out between the rows of chairs, and Bradley was of no help, stumbling around like he was drunk, needing his friends to steady him as he walked out, past the guests who were slowly clearing out of the venue as well, throwing dirty looks in his direction. Somehow, he got in the backseat of Javy’s jeep, Jake on the passenger seat while Natasha was to his left, watching him with narrowed eyes.

It was only then, that it slowly started sinking in what he had just done.

“Oh my god…” he moaned, horrified, leaning his head down, burying it between his knees. “What the fuck did I do?”

“What were you thinking?” Natasha , her face contorted in anger. “Do you realize what position you put her in?”

“Trace, not now,” Jake muttered and Natasha leaned back in her seat with a scoff, crossing her arms over her chest, staring out of the window. The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, and by the time the car rolled to a stop in front of Bradley’s house, he was miserable.

Without waiting, he tumbled out of the car, trudging inside the house, heading straight to the fridge to grab a beer. He’d nearly drunk the entire bottle by the time the others walked inside, almost a complete set. His squadron lined up in front of him, Jake giving Bradley a pitiful look, handing out beers to everyone, giving Bradley a chance to collect his wits, before it inevitably all came crashing down on him.

“That was fucked up, Rooster.”

Out of all the people, he had expected Bob the least, especially with the expletive. He really messed up badly.

“We’ve had her wedding invitation for ages, you had plenty of chances to tell her how you feel, why would you leave it to the last second?” Reuben asked and Bradley dropped his gaze, because he knew he was right.

Logan made a noise. “His timing was shitty, yes, but the way she reacted tells me she had second thoughts.”

“She reacted like that because Bradley put her on the spot, are you fucking joking?” Natasha snapped at him and Logan’s eyes widened, raising his hands defensively. “She’s been dreaming about this day all her life and you just went and fucked it all up, like it was easy.”

“Tash, take it down a notch,” Javy said and Natasha glared at him.

“No, I am not going to coddle him. He fucked up, big time and he needs to own up to it.”

“Jesus, I know I fucked up, okay?” Bradley suddenly burst out, his breathing heavy. “I shouldn’t have interrupted the ceremony like that and I shouldn’t have let her leave in the first place all those years ago. But it was not easy for me, Natasha, so don’t say it like I did it for shits and giggles!”

Natasha sighed with a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing a bit, though there was still a frown on her forehead. Bradley looked at his friends, who all wore expressions varying between worry and pity, when he realized that there were people missing.

“Where’s Billy and Neil?”

“I think they’re at Callie’s. Things at the venue kind of bombed after we left and she asked them to come help,” Brigham said, purposefully vague and Bradley’s eyes shoot to him immediately.

“Is-?”

Brigham shifted uneasily on his feet, shrugging with his shoulders. “I think so, yeah.”

“Um. I think I’ll go and apologize, right?” Bradley asked, shoving his empty beer bottle on the counter and Mickey made a hesitant noise.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea? Maybe the two of you need space right now?” He said and Reuben nodded, agreeing with his backseater.

“Yeah, I think you need to give her some time. And you should use that time to collect your bearings, too. Get your head sorted.”

Bradley deflated, leaning back against his fridge and Jake gave him a look, before clucking with his tongue.

“Alright, how about everyone just get changed and get some rest? And then come back, we’ll do dinner back here, that okay, Bradshaw?”

Jake glanced at him, raising an eyebrow and Bradley muttered a yes in response, knowing that he was only trying to help. And it was probably best if he didn’t stay alone right now, or else he’d do something stupid again. Everyone voiced their agreements and then started filtering out of his kitchen, not without clapping Bradley on the shoulder in consolation.

Pressing the heel of his hand in his eyes, Bradley let out a deep sigh, before looking up at the remaining aviators in his kitchen. Natasha had her arms still crossed, Javy eyeing her like he was considering putting a leash on, Jake just, uncharacteristically worried and Bob.

“I don’t have enough food in my fridge to feed 11 people,” he then said. He barely had any food in his fridge, if he was being honest, since he was supposed to be eating dinner at your wedding.

“We’ll just pick up pizza later, don’t worry,” Bob said, giving Bradley a small, comforting smile. “You should rest up.”

Bradley nodded, heading out of the kitchen and upstairs into the bedroom, not missing how the hushed conversation started as soon as he left the room.

“- him? He’s a grown man and he made a mistake.”

“You’re kicking him while he’s down, Trace, have a bit of sympathy.”

“That’s rich coming from you, Bagman, I-”

“Hey, let’s just, take a breather, okay?”

The rest of the conversation faded as Bradley climbed up the stairs and finally reached his bedroom, dropping down on the mattress, face first. He was drained, emotionally and physically. His cheek was still stinging from when you bitch-slapped him across the face. Sitting up, Bradley groaned in frustration, suddenly feeling like he was suffocating, tugging on his bow tie until it unraveled, tossing it somewhere on the floor. His suit jacket quickly followed, the dress shirt got dropped on the floor, and with a bit of resistance, his dress pants got discarded on the floor as well. Grabbing the nearest piece of clothing, he threw on a black shirt and some sweats, hoping to ease the tightness in his chest. Bradley took a deep breath, that was too shaky for his liking, his skin was itching and he was just way too warm.

He had to get out of there.

Getting to his feet, Bradley tumbled down the stairs, only stopping briefly in the door to the kitchen, his friends freezing when they saw him. Bradley was sure he looked like a lunatic.

“I need some air,” he gasped out, before disappearing out back through his backward, ignoring the calls.

“Bradley!”

Bradley walked in quick strides, hoping none of them would follow him outside as he cut through the neighborhood until he reached the beach, the salty air filling his lungs. His feet sank into the sand, seagulls crowed as they dove past him and Bradley finally felt a sense of peace in his body.

Taking in a deep breath, he shut his eyes, only to see your face staring back at him, your hand shaking as you raised it to slap him across the face. Wincing, Bradley forced his eyes open again, the tension back in his shoulders. He had to apologize. Turning his back, he stared into the direction of his house, knowing that there was no way the others would let him go, so he had no other choice but to walk to Callie’s house. It was a two hours walk, minimum, but he could use the fresh air to find the right words.

By the time he trudged up the walk-way to Callie’s house, it was dark, the sun had set about half an hour ago, right about the same time he got cold. Pressing the doorbell, Bradley rolled his shoulders back, confident that he had found the right words to apologize to you, when Callie opened the door.

Fuck.

“You got some nerve coming here,” Callie bit at him, glaring. “You know damn well I can kick your ass, and don’t think I wouldn’t just because you’re Natasha’s best friend.”

“I don’t think that she would mind,” he admitted, his voice small. “Can I please talk to her?”

“Why? So you can break her heart all over again?”

Bradley’s heart sank and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his sweats. “I’m- I just want to apologize. Please. She doesn’t even have to talk to me, I don’t even have to see her, I can talk to her through the door, just- I need her to know that I’m sorry.”

Callie stared him down for at least a minute, before she stepped to the side to let him in.

“If she doesn’t want to talk to you, you best believe I will kick your ass out of here,” she called after him as he headed inside, waving awkwardly at Billy and Neil who were sitting in the living room. Billy was unimpressed and Neil only sighed when Callie pointed him towards the first floor.

“She’s upstairs, second bedroom to the right.”

“Thanks,” Bradley said meekly, walking up the stairs until he stood in front of the closed door. There were small sounds coming from the room and he knocked on the door gently, nervously.

“I am not hungry, Callie,” you called from inside the room, your voice congested. Like you had been crying. Bradley contemplated turning on his heel to leave, not wanting to hurt you even more, but he breathed in deeply, before speaking.

“It’s me.”

He heard you inhale sharply and he leaned his forehead against the door, closing his eyes.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done what I did in the middle of the ceremony. I just- I thought I could be happy for you, see you off with Henry and maybe even have a few drinks with you, toasting to the new chapter of your life. But when I saw you up there with him. I couldn’t take it. I am not sorry about what I said, because I meant every word. But I am sorry for ruining your wedding and putting you on the spot like that. It was unfair and you didn’t deserve that,” Bradley said softly, sighing quietly.

There was no reaction on the other side of the door and Bradley accepted that he had done all he could do.

“I’m really sorry…” he added, before taking a step back, clearing his throat.

Suddenly, the door unlocked and he had an armful of you, beating against his chest with your hands.

“Do you know how long it took for me to accept the fact that you weren’t going to marry me, Bradley? Ages, YEARS! I was completely heartbroken when we broke up and it took me so long to get back out there, telling myself that I would find someone. When Henry proposed to me, a tiny part of me thought that maybe you would come to your senses and tell me to call off the engagement. Hell, even in the bridal room, I kept thinking that maybe you were going to stop me, tell me that you loved me and that you wanted to marry me. You had so many chances, Bradley. I gave you so many opportunities to catch up with me, and when I finally closed the door on you, you chose the worst possible moment to kick it down screaming?”

The hits against his chest grew weaker and weaker, until you were just clawing at his shirt, breaking down against his body. Bradley wasn’t sure when he had started crying, but silent tears were running down his cheeks as he held you. For a while, the both of you just stood there in silence, both in tears until you pushed yourself out of his arms, wiping the tears from your face with the sleeves of your sweatshirt.

Your eyes were rimmed red, and your skin was still glistening with tears, but to Bradley you have never looked more beautiful.

“You stink,” you said and Bradley let out a water laugh, his chest rumbling.

“Yeah, I walked here.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “From your house?”

“From my house.”

You hummed, biting on your lip. Bradley reached out to comb your messy hair back, his fingers getting tangled in the knots, before stroking his thumb over your cheek gently.

“Have you talked to Henry?”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. He lost it. Said that I embarrassed him in front of his entire family and friends. I think he’s still getting drunk at the venue with his boys. My dad almost got in a fist fight with him.”

Bradley smiled at the thought of your father, barely 5’5, trying to take on Henry, who was almost six feet tall. He noticed how you left out how things were between you and Henry, though Bradley didn’t let himself get his hopes up too much.

“Is it too late?” he asked softly and your eyes found his, unshed tears on your lower lash line. “Am I too late?”

Sighing deeply, you dropped your gaze. “Do you want to get married?”

“I don’t. But I want to get married to you.”

Squawking, you gave him a shove and Bradley stumbled a few steps back, beaming at you. He knelt down in front of you and making you flush.

“Bradley, get up.”

“I am serious. I meant every word I said. If you’ll have me, I will marry the shit out of you. I will make you the best Mrs. Bradley Bradshaw,” Bradley said earnestly and you stared at him with wide eyes.

“... Okay then.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’m not getting younger and my other engagement just fell through-”

Bradley gave you a look, but he nosed along your ring finger, pressing a soft kiss on your skin before standing up, lifting you up with him. You laughed and there were still dried streaks of tears on your cheeks, there were so many obstacles he had to overcome, but he’d take it all, if it meant having you in the end.

author's note: whoop. sorry. this got angstier than I intended. anyways, you know the drill. SHARE! COMMENT! REBLOG!!

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw headcanon

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angelkhi · 1 year

Text

kiss it better - j.m

pairing: dilf!joel miller x babysitter!reader

summary: turns out joel is trained in first aid, among other things.

warnings: SMUT (18+ Minors DNI) oral (f), fingering, masturbation (m), age gap, creampie but not technically p in v, cumplay i guess, squirting? cum eating/swapping(???), praise, an inkling of overstimulation, hair pulling, needy joel, some dirty talk / bad language, nicknames: dove, pretty girl, sweet girl, idk just some down right dirty shit with some feeling, mentions of injury (a scraped knee and elbow), age gap, slight hurt comfort, grumpy bucky, kinda sweet ending. very sorry if i missed anything!

word count: 2.4 k

a little note: hi! this shit is nasty soz xx i wrote this for bucky but changed it to pre-outbreak joel cause yeah, also not proofread cause i don’t like reading my own shit, and sarah is like 5 in this, also if u know me no you don’t, okay love ya x likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏾

"You, kitchen. I'll be down in 10."

You'd listened of course, planting yourself on the kitchen counter and awaiting his return, but those 7 simple words left you fidgeting for the entire 10 minutes he was gone.

Joel walks into the room without a word, puts the bright red first aid box on the counter next to you and pulls up a stool. You can't help but watch his fluid movements, admiring his grace and precision even in the smallest of movements. All of them are deliberate, calculated.

"This is gonna sting a bit." He rips open an alcohol wipe, sliding a hand behind your knee to keep you in place. "Deep breath for me."

"Joel, I can sort it myself- mother fucker!" You start to protest but he presses the wipe against your broken skin, the sting unexpected despite his prior warning.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Joel smirks, wiping over your knee once more, his fingers digging into your flesh when you try to pull away from him. "Keep still."

"I told you I'd sort it." You mumble.

"Stop being so proud for 10 minutes. Let me help you."

"But..."

He sighs, finally looking up at you. You're not sure if it's the intensity of his stare, or the fact that he's hunched over you, touching you so gently, as though a scraped knee just might break you, but that sigh defeats you.

"Okay."

Silence falls over you again and you continue to watch him work, smiling when he fiddles with small bandage and adds a princess sticker for good measure.

"I'm sorry about earlier. Didn't mean for such a dramatic entrance but you know Sarah, she's..."

"Stubborn and bossy."

"I was going to say strong minded and competitive. Like her father." His brow quirks subtly, but you pretend not to notice it.

"So... stubborn and bossy." Joel smiles, still completely focused on bandaging your knee, "There you go, all patched up."

You nod, unsure of what to say all of a sudden. Joel fills the silence.

"I've missed you." Three simple words, that probably would've had little effect on you if they hadn't come from him.

"You saw me yesterday Joel."

"You know that's not what I mean dove." He glances up at you, just for a second, but a second is all he needs to know you understand. Of course you understand. You've spent the better part of a year trying not to miss him.

"Always so proud. It's okay to let people help you."

"My pride took quite the hit today thank you very much, your kid is way too good at tag." Joel chuckles, and your bruised pride heals a little, knowing that you had made him laugh. The way that his eyes crinkle and his nose scrunches, the almost giggle. You want to commit it to memory. To keep them it your pocket safe and tight for when you needed it. Even as his soft eyes bore into your own, silently demanding an answer to his statement.

"Thank you, Doctor Miller. I'd better be going." It's cowardly, barely even a whisper, almost drowned out by the low hum of the fridge.

But you don't move though and nether does he. Joel smooths the bandage over your knee, his lingering thumb quickly replaced by his soft lips. Joel gazes up at you as he rose from his knees, his hands sliding up your legs with each fluid movement. His hands move on their own accord, across your thighs, skimming your hips and waist, moving up and up until he's cradling your jaw.

"I wanna keep you in just a little while longer for observations, doctors orders" You lean into his touch, hyper aware of how close the pair of you suddenly are.

"Hmm. Okay Doctor Miller, any other remedies... since you insist." You're breathless, the air in the room seeming none existent as you bend to his will.

"I can think of one."

He bunches your skirt up around your waist in one swift motion, urging you to lay back against the cool marble countertop. His lips are full and warm against your skin, lingering on the inside of your knee, his fingers holed in the side of your panties, dragging them ever so slowly down your thighs. Joel's every movement is slow and deliberate, as though he's trying to savour each and every part of the moment.

"Such a pretty cunt." A small burst of cool air against your exposed pussy pushes you closer to the edge of desperation. Joel's hair tickles your inner thighs, his soft shirt brushing the back of your knee

"Tell me you missed me." He's so close to where you need him, practically dangling himself on a string. "Tell me how much you missed me touching you like this."

Joel finally touches you, his thumb circling your hole, watching you clench around nothing desperately spread out on his kitchen counter willing to take anything he'll give you.

"Missed you, Joel. So much." He hums, pride seeping out of his pores, dark eyes flickering when you say his name.

"Fuckin my hand to the thought of you was torture dove. Nothin compares to this perfect little thing." His lips purse and a small burst of cool air brushes over your clit. You grow more and more desperate the closer he gets, you're practically offering yourself up on a silver platter and he chooses now to take his sweet time?

Your fingers thread through his shaggy locks, prompting him to do something or you'll do it yourself. Joel' laugh is quick and breathless, his eyes slipping shut when you lightly scratch at his scalp.

He leans forward, tongue dragging from your entrance to your throbbing clit. Your fingers tighten in his hair and he groans pulling back to speak.

"Just as sweet as I remember." He takes another moment, then his head is between your thighs.

You're not sure if it's been hours or minutes but Joel's head is still buried between your thighs, lapping at your clit and weeping hole like a starved man. Every time you think he'll give you some sort of a reprise, he just gives you more. Fucking an extra finger into you each time he comes up for breath, or simply just toying with your clit, enjoying the way you respond so diligently to his every touch.

Your hands find the edge of the counter out of sheer desperation, too scared you'll pull at his hair too harshly in this marathon of touching, that is at least until Joel's movements stop abruptly, his head lifting from between your.

"Joel, are you okay?" His large hands wrap around your wrists, prying your hands off of the marble and back into his soft hair.

"Don't stop-" he presses a sweet kiss to your thigh "-feels so fuckin' good."

He wastes no time getting back between your thighs, bringing you back to that ledge he'd left you on. The soft point of his nose brushes against your clit, your hands grasping his hair with fervour. Joel's moan is low and deep, vibrating from his lips right to your open cunt. The knowledge that you're giving him just a fraction of what he's giving you makes your chest swell, and you bet that if you had to energy to lift your head and look down on him, his trousers would be uncomfortably tight and his hips Joeling up at nothing.

He curls his fingers, hooking them perfectly against where you need him, his hand moving at an unnatural pace. You try to stay quiet so not to wake the little girl asleep upstairs, but you're being torn apart from the inside out and Joel's muffled sounds do nothing but spur you on. Once his lips pucker against your clit and his fingers rest on that perfect spot, you're finished. Torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer, you simply just let it happen, let him coax your body through a perfect orgasm until you have no choice but to push the gluttonous man away.

"So fuckin' pretty. Look at ya, all mine." He's breathless, supporting your now upright frame between his muscular arm and chest. He presses his soft lips to yours, and it's a mess of nipping and sucking. His tongue brushes up against yours slowly and deeply, the taste of your own orgasm lingering on your lips.

"Just one more. Gimme one more yeah? So fucking good for me dove." You nod, something between a hoarse sigh and a whimper when he asks for verbal confirmation. He slides two long fingers back into you with ease, right back with that bruising pace, watching with dark eyes as you grind your clit on the ball of his palm.

"That's it, I've got you sweet girl. Give it to me." Joel's efficient when he works your body. He enjoys how you clench around his fingers when your orgasm builds, or how your swollen clit respond so well to his touch. He likes it when you push your fingers into his broad shoulders, anchoring yourself to him. He fucking loves it when you muffle the high pitched scream in his shoulder, teeth digging into his skin slightly as you release over his hand.

Dark grey spots linger on the cotton of his joggers from where you'd gushed all over him, but he doesn't care. Joel cradles your face, taking you in, his own little slice of heaven on earth. His.

Your nimble fingers tug the waistband of his joggers until they're just low enough to release him from their confines. His fingers brush over yours, moulding them against him, guiding you to palm his cock in a tight fist. Joel's concentrated gaze flickers between your glistening thighs, your pretty eyes, your half parted lips, your wet pussy spread out just for him. He's frantic, chasing pleasure from your white knuckled fists.

You slip your hand free, tracing over the stubble on his chin, fingers trailing around the back of his neck, until they're locked in his hair again. Your grip is rough when you tip his head back slightly, and he shudders against you, hips chasing his fist.

You relinquish in the small amount of power, the new feeling sending a rush down your spine. His lips rest against yours, his soft noises brushing against your skin.

"You gonna let me make a mess of this cunt, huh? Gonna let me come all on your pretty pussy."

"Joel please."

"Fuck. You're too good to me." He's whining for you. Fucking whining, and it's all because of you. Joel's hips stutter and thrust into his hand, the thick head of his cock bumping against your sensitive nub, extracting every last ounce of pleasure from your already spent body.

"Joel, come inside of me. Please Joel, you're always so good to me, let me be good for you." His hips slow as he takes in your words, your hands on him. He works himself over with his fist once more before he grips himself at his thick base pressing himself against your sensitive clit once again. He slides himself down, down, until the head of his dick is pressed against your waiting hole.

The familiar stretch of him pushing into you has you whimpering, still so sensitive. Joel's breath stutters and his hands grip your hips as he fucks his tip into you. His thrusts are quick and shallow as he gets himself off and you're muttering against his lips how good he feels, how pretty he looks, how much you love it when he takes what he needs. You scratch at his scalp, and grip his hair that little bit tighter and he's keening over, pressing his lips to yours. His eyes squeeze shut and he whines into your mouth as he pumps himself empty inside of you.

He works swiftly, removing himself from your warmth, sliding you to the edge of the counter and falling to his knees.

"Fuckin perfect." He mutters to himself, watching as his spend leaks out of you, fingers toying with the mess he made. He drags his soft wet tongue against you, once, twice, slipping into your used cunt until you're clawing him away beyond over-sensitive.

But then he's up, and in front of you and you're reading and waiting knowing what he's about to give you and you're willing to accept it. He kisses you, the mixture of your slick and his come on his tongue. You take it, the debauchery act pushing you so far past the point of desire. His fingers still move against you, still playing with your clenching cunt until you're seeing stars.

"Joel, too much."

"M'sorry dove." He says, pulling his fingers away from you and sucking them into his mouth.

He moves quickly, reaching for a cloth and some of his pyjama pants from the washing pile on the dining table. He's careful when he runs it over your thighs and in between your legs, holds you carefully when he helps you down from the counter and slips you into the sleep trousers that are far too big. He's soft and warm and careful and everything in between when he holds you against his chest.

"Joel..." He hums. "I don't want to miss you anymore."

You pull away to look up at him, terrified that you'd misread the situation, that your cloudy brain and lingering crush on the father next door has made you overstep the mark.

"Don't wanna miss you either dove." His lips brush yours.

He seems nervous, it's beyond sweet, but you'd never felt so light, so relieved. "Stay?"

"What about Sarah?"

"Please, she's been begging me to date you for months." Oh.

"And what do you want?" His soft thumbs stroke your lips whilst he holds your gaze, soft yet demanding.

"I wanna take you out to dinner. Want you next to me when I wake up in the mornings. I want you to sit on my face til your crying. Wanna give you everything you want, no matter how ridiculous, I just want you, if you'll let me." Oh. Big oh. You pull him close, resting a hand over his quick beating heart, worried it just might give out.

"You already have me."

He flashes a toothy grin, his blue eyes sparkling even in a dimly lit room. He kisses you slow and sweet, pouring every ounce of care an affection into your lips making it certain. You absolutely already have him too.

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