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linopls · 6 months

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kinktober day eighteen

voyeurism danceracha x fem!reader warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, oral (fem receiving), semi public, male masturbation, squirting 2.2k words

you weren’t a dancer, you could demolish anyone in just dance, but that was the extent of it.

your boyfriend on the other hand was possibly the best dancer to walk this earth.

you both have spent the past week in and out of practice rooms working on hyunjin’s next SKZ-PLAYER. although he couldn’t publicly announce your relationship, some strict company rules he has to work by, he thought by performing a number with you would be a way to show you off without explicitly saying so.

the problem is: you weren’t a dancer.

“you’re doing great, baby!” hyunjin says, tossing you your water bottle. “it’s all coming together i can see it.”

you sigh and take a huge sip of your water. “i’m losing it, jinnie! i’m struggling to remember it all and it's not smooth, it's choppy.”

“you’re overthinking it.” he places one of his hands on your cheek and presses a soft kiss to your lips. “let’s run it again.”

you sigh and sit down in one of the chairs in the middle of the room and hyunjin sits the other, you backs facing each other. hyunjin leans his head back on your shoulder and you turn your head to give him a peck on his sweaty forehead.

“we’ll do it with counts, m’kay?”

hyunjin starts counting and his body moves naturally, nothing is too harsh or jerky. its like water the way his moves flow from one to the next. you’re staring at him in the mirror in such awe that you miss your entrance and he stops counting.

“babe,” hyunjin laughs. “stop staring at me and focus, you can look at me later.”

“i’m so sorry,” you say softly. “you’re just so memorizing when you dance i could stare at you forever.”

hyunjin steps in front of you and presses his forehead to yours. he rubs his nose against yours and places a soft kiss to your lips.

“you’re cute. you know that, right?” he smiles and you blush. “now it’s my turn to watch you dance. get up.”

“w-what no!” you sputter. “it's like trying to teach a baby deer to walk.”

“y/n,” hyunjin whines and playfully stomps his feet. he grabs your wrist and pulls you out of the chair.

hyunjin places his hands on your hips and starts the counts, guiding you through the steps of a specific section of the dance you struggle with. you try to move as fluidly as hyunjin.

“five, six, sev-” hyunjin counts and he spins you out but loses the grip on your hand and you fall back against the mirror.

“shit,” you groan, massaging the back of your head with your hand.

“oh my god, y/n, i’m so sorry!” hyunjin runs up to you and cups your cheeks with his hands.

“no it’s okay, i’m okay.” you smile reassuringly at your boyfriend. “got a tough skull, i promise.”

you lean in to kiss hyunjin, his soft and gentle lips work perfectly in sync with yours. you place your hands against his chest and he slides his hands down to your waist, pressing his body against yours into the mirror. hyunjin swipes his tongue across your lips and you eagerly let him explore your mouth.

his hands wander to your ass, massaging and squeezing it gently. you slide your hands down his chest and under his shirt, your fingers hover over his abdominal muscles. hyunjin pulls away from the kiss for a second to remove his shirt, revealing his toned chest to you. you’ve seen him shirtless a million times, but everytime it makes you mouth water.

“hey, my eyes are up here, baby,” hyunjin teases, placing his fingers under your chin and lifting your head up to face him.

“we shouldn’t do anything here, jinnie. what if someone sees?”

“is that such a bad thing?” he smirks and kisses you again.

you moan into his mouth and your eyes roll back in your head. the idea of someone possibly walking in on you and hyunjin is such an arousing thrill. hyunjin’s hands wander under your top, cusping your breasts with his large hands. you break the kiss for a second to remove your shirt as well and hyunjin begins to kiss down your jaw and neck.

hyunjin continues his trail of kisses down your stomach, kneeling onto the floor in front of you. his fingers hook under the band of your yoga pants when a knock is heard at the door. you try to cover your front with your arms as you look up to felix and minho walking through the door. hyunjin turns his attention to the two men and sighs, laying his head against your stomach.

“forget we had practice at seven?” felix laughs.

“i did,” hyunjin says defeated.

“it’s okay, you two can continue. we won’t intrude.” minho smirks and sends a joking wink to you.

“you are intruding,” hyunjin sighs.

“hm, i guess so,” minho chuckles. “guess we’ll have a seat right here and watch then.”

the two boys sit on the couch bench across from you and your face goes red and you try to cover it with your hands before remembering that you're covering your torso. you look up to the ceiling too embarrassed to look hyunjin’s handsome friends in the eyes.

“aww, looks like y/n would like for us to watch, right?” felix coos.

hyunjin lifts his head from your stomach and looks up at you, you aren’t looking at him but you can feel his lustful gaze burning into your skull.

“can i?” hyunjin asks, looping his fingers under your waistband again.

you’re silent for a second. you look back at felix and minho and both send encouraging smiles.

“if you don’t want to, we’ll never speak of this again,” felix starts.

“and if you do want to, and halfway through you want to stop, the same thing applies,” minho finishes.

you look down to hyunjin, and just like you had imagined, his eyes blown out with lust. you have to admit, the whole idea sounds so erotic and hot. you nervously smile to your boyfriend.

“sure,” you whisper. “i trust you.”

with one swift motion, hyunjin slides your pants down your legs revealing your lack of undergarments underneath. you look back up to the ceiling again, the small gasps the three boys make fill you with embarrassment.

“you’re pretty, y/nnie,” felix giggles.

“say thank you,” hyunjin mumbles as he presses soft kisses on your lower stomach.

“thank you, felix,” you respond breathlessly.

“spread your legs for us,” minho suggests.

“hey,” hyunjin whips his head around to face his members. “you’re both just supposed to be watching, no instructions, just compliments.”

“we just want a better view. she’s very pretty.”

they way they speak about you as if your an exhibit makes your skin hot. you’d never been able to put on a jaw-dropping dance performance for them, but you can put on a show like this. and that gives you some confidence you didn’t know you had.

you lock eye contact with felix as you reach down to fully remove your pants, which have been sitting on your ankles. as you take them over you through them in his direction, his eyes go wide. next you lock eyes with minho and slowly drape your thigh over one of hyunjin’s shoulders.

“thank you, y/n.” minho smiles.

hyunjin starts to trail kisses to your inner thigh, biting and sucking on the sensitive skin with the intention of leaving marks. the artist, your boyfriend, loves to look back on his hand-painted works, your thighs and chest, to admire his paintings, his deep purple and red hickeys.

his nose brushes over your clit and you whimper out, you hadn’t even realized how worked up this whole ordeal has gotten you and just how badly you wanted hyunjin to take you right here in front of his friends.

“jinnie, please,” you whisper, interlocking your fingers in his long, black hair.

you look back down to your beautiful boyfriend on his knees in front of you. he makes everything he does look angelic, even if he’s committing a sinful act like this. he takes no time to flick the tip of his tongue against your clit, waves of pleasure being sent through your body. hyunjin’s hands rub up and down your thighs, soothing your nerves and fully focusing your attention on to him.

hyunjin wraps his soft lips around your clit and sucks hard on the sensitive bud. you moan loudly and arch your back off the mirror. he looks up at you through his eyelashes and you swear you could cum on the spot. his eyes stare into your soul with so much love and passion but also with lust that drives you crazy.

one of hyunjin’s hands part from your thighs and two of his fingers tease your entrance. as he slowly pushes half of his fingers in, you look back up to the two boys in front of you. you almost forgot they were there, hyunjin had you so immersed in focusing on him you had forgotten about the show you were supposed to be presenting.

your eyes wander between the two, you notice the tent that has formed in minho’s sweats and the bag strategically placed on felix’s lap. you smile at the two, your ego being fueled by the fact that the boys are aroused by watching you and your lover.

hyunjin’s pushes his digits deep inside you, curling his fingers up to the spot your own fingers could never find. he begins to quickly thrust his fingers in and out of your hole, the room being filled of your small moans and the sound of your arousal squelching around hyunjin’s fingers.

“please don’t stop, jinnie,” you whimper, tightening your grip on his hair. hyunjin moans against your pussy and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release.

“you’re beautiful, y/n,” minho purrs. “is jinnie making you feel good?”

“s-so good,” you whine, bucking your hips up against hyunjin’s face.

felix’s eyes roll back in his head and he throws his head back against the top of the couch. minho sighs admirably and removes his sweatshirt.

an ounce of courage makes its way into your bodies and you look back and forth between hyunjin and his members. “can you three touch yourselves for me?” you ask softly.

hyunjin looks up at you again, eyebrows furrowed as he moves his hand to palm himself over his pants. you look up to find minho doing the same thing, his mouth opening slightly when his hand makes contact with his crotch. felix hesitantly moves the bag from his lap which reveals a clear outline of his cock in his shorts, you even notice a small wet patch of precum staining the fabric.

the whole scene makes your knees weak, the three boys all turned on to the thought of you and all pleasuring themselves in front of you.

“so close, jinnie, please,” you moan, tangling your other hand into his hair.

hyunjin looks down and slides his hand into his sweats and frees his aching cock from its confines. you watch as he teases his tip with his thumb, smearing his precum all over the head. your eyes go wide as he begins to stroke himself and look back up to you.

“gonna cum, please,” you beg.

what finally sends you over the edge is the view of both minho and felix sliding their own hands into the pants and watching them massage themselves to the sight of you. you grip the sides of hyunjin’s face and rut your hips against him as his fingers and tongue continue to fuck you through your orgasm.

“holy shit,” felix gasps.

you look down to hyunjin and watch your release spill out of you. dripping down your legs and spraying onto hyunjin’s face, chest, and cock. hyunjin pulls away from your pussy once your legs start to shake and uses your release and lube to aggressively jerk himself to his own release. he locks eyes with you as he continues to fuck his fist.

you look up to the two boys across the room, both sitting with their mouths agape stilling palming themselves under their pants.

“look at me, y/n,” hyunjin says, his low voice sending chills through your body. as you look down you watch as hyunjin releases into his fist. spurts of white cum landing on his bare chest and your legs.

you look back up to minho and felix as the two release soft moans as well. felix covers his mouth with one hand as his hips thrust up in the air and he finishes with a muffled groan. minho is soon to follow, taking his cock out of his pants and pulling his shirt up to finish on his bare stomach.

“wow,” you sigh, eyes panning between all three boys.

the four of you sit in silence for a while, all three trying to regulate your breathing patterns and cool yourselves off. minho is the first to speak.

“i think that was a successful rehersal,” he says softly, grabbing one of his sweat towels and wiping his stomach clean. “same time next week?”

you, felix, and hyunjin all chuckle softly as you all begin to wipe yourselves off and grab your things.

“y/n,” hyunjin starts, coming up next to you as you grab your practice bag. “you’re an incredible performer. don’t think any different.”

live laugh love danceracha

@rockstrhanji @hyunjinhoexxx @mixtape-racha @euphoric-univers @haruharu-egypt @shit-why-what @twiggoblin @kookiesbunny @virgohannie @nataliee10 @ihrtlix @aaasia111 @lolli4me @lilcutieana @changbinsrightboob @hanjisunglover @chansducky10 @elissasimp @boi-bi-ahaha @lilquokka04 @anglerfishiey @sirenscall1031 @might-be-a-rat @jihyun2monster @kpflyn @samsmitty @imwithurmother @meilix @summer3sworld @mysweethannie @kittykattime @linoots @yaorzu-blog @sofiaeli

@alemi-i @cupidsmoons @yoongles2025 @vixensss @chlooooop @lemontried @idkluvutellme @superiorbrownskinn @ana-stasssiaaa @amayaaseees @ilikecatsanddoritos @alnex05 @esairevmp @greysweaters-blog @sanzusfavgf @jutannies @faraonatojishady @hanniemylovelyquokka @chloeskzboomboom @quinnluvsmoney @burningupp-replies @aisha-md @jo-dinner @jeannie-beannie @httpsimmy @hazneezs @cuffier

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cy-cyborg · 1 month

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How The Owl House did amputee representation right before Eda ever lost her arm - Disability in Media

[ID: A screenshot of Eda from The Owl House, an old woman with pale skin, very large, grey hair and pointed ears in a red dress. Beside the screenshot on a dark pink background is text that reads "Disability in media, How the Owl House got amputee representation right before eda ever lost her arm." /End ID]

Dana Terrace's The Owl House has some of the best disability rep I’ve seen on a Disney channel show in a long time, with Eda, the main character’s mentor, being one of many stand-out examples.

Plenty of people have discussed how Eda’s curse and the loss of her magic can work as an allegory for disability and how refreshing it is to see a story (especially one aimed at a younger audience) who’s focus is not on her “overcoming” it, but learning to accept it as a part of her and go from there. Eda’s story tackles a lot of subjects that are often mishandled in other examples of disability representation, from the subject of parents who refuse to accept, to glass siblings and much, much more, The Owl House handles all these topics beautifully.

But one thing that dawned on me during my most recent re-watch of The Owl House is how well Eda (and later Lilith) worked as amputee representation, long before Eda actually lost her arm.

One of the side effects of Eda and Lilith’s curse is that sometimes their body parts, mainly their limbs, can fall off. It doesn’t hurt them, and Eda is seen removing them intentionally at multiple times in the series, but they can always be reattached.

[ID: an image of Eda holding her sister Lilith's hand. Lilith is a pale woman with long, black hair, wearing grey clothes. She is looking at her other arm suprised, as her hand is missing. Luz, a Latina girl with short brown hair and a purple hoodie is looking on, smiling. /End ID]

While most likely unintentional, the way the show depicts this with Eda in particular is exactly what I wish more people would do with their prosthetic-using amputee characters.

Eda detaches her limbs, especially her legs, when they’re inconvenient or when she’s relaxing.

[ID: an image of Eda laying on the couch in a bathrobe, her hair in a towel. She has taken her legs off, throwing them to the other side of the seat. /End ID]

The fact that this is mostly played for laughs is actually a good thing in my opinion (though obviously, the show’s overall tone is part of that), as it shows the audience who are mostly children and teens, that in a world of weird and downright scary (from the perspective of the characters) things, this isn't one of them. It’s just a thing she and Lilith can do, and it can even be funny.

[ID: An image of Luz and Eda dressed as pirates. Eda is sitting on the ground, her legs detached and off screen somewhere. /End ID]

It does startle Luz and Lilith on a few occasions, but that’s more because they didn’t know the curse could do that, but once they’re introduced to it, it’s never really brought up as a big deal again.

I’d love to see more amputee characters who do this with their prosthetics. So often media is almost afraid to have amputees take their prosthetics off on camera or on the page. For some folks, our prosthetics are like a part of our bodies, but that doesn’t mean we never take them off. Show your leg amputee flop on the couch and throw their legs across the room. Have them go without on occasion, not because they have to, but because they just don’t feel like putting them on.

Likewise, the owl house creators never shy away from showing Eda when her limbs aren’t all attached. A lot of media, and kid’s shows in particular, will avoid having an amputee character’s stump visible if they ever do take their prosthetics off - treating that part of the character’s body the same way they treat gore or nudity. I’ve talked before how this actually does have a real impact on how kids in particular react to amputees - I’ve legitimately had kids I worked with cry when I took my prosthetics off, then immediately calm down when they see there’s nothing "scary" under my socks. As much as I love How To Train Your Dragon, it’s very guilty of this. Hiccup looses his leg at the end of the first movie, and wakes up with his prosthetic already attached. The Netflix series has a few instances where he has his prosthetic off, but the camera almost always avoids showing it until he can cover it up again, or is super zoomed-out so you wouldn’t be able to “see anything”. To their credit, they do get better with this in the last movie (though it's still always covered), but for the majority of the series, they are very reluctant to have any shots where hiccup’s leg is in view without the prosthetic (unless they’re very far away).

[ID: a screenshot of Hiccup from How To Train Your Dragon 3, a white man with short brown hair, and one leg missing, wearing armour made of black dragon scales and no prosthetic. He is holding onto toothless's head, a black dragon. /End ID]

Ironically, Eda does (permanently) loose an arm at the end of season 2, but I don’t really have much to say about her as amputee representation on that front, since she’s absent for a lot of Season 3, and when we do see her again, everything is so hectic, the story doesn’t really have any time to focus on her missing limb (which is reasonable). I will say, I do appreciate that they kept the amputation when she's in her owl-beast form in the finale, but there's honestly not much more to say about it. We do see her again in the epilogue after she’s had some time to settle into the amputation, wearing a hook prosthetic, but it’s, once again, too quick to really say anything from a representation standpoint. There's a few little nit-picky things I could bring up, like the fact they seemed to change the type on amputation she had (when she looses it, we see the split was very close to the elbow, but in the epilogue she has most of her forearm again) but those read to me more like animation mistakes or an odd prosthetic/clothing designs rather than a representation issue - and as someone who's worked in animation, given the stress the team was under for the finale, I'm not really worried about it. Like I said, it's more nit-picky than anything.

[ID: A screenshot of Eda, her hair tied back and wearing a red robe and a hook for her right hand. /End ID]

Despite all that though, I still think Eda is still good amputee representation, but mostly because of how they depict her curse’s side effects rather than her actual amputation. She’s honestly one of the only characters that I think you could refer to as “amputee coded” (outside of maybe Teen Titan’s Cyborg), and I genuinely wish more creators would treat their actual amputee characters the same way the Owl House treats Eda in that regard.

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adelheidvonschicksal · 2 months

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I beg of you, your the only person who wrote such a good zayne story 😍 it makes everything tingle, can we get a story of us sucking him off PLEASEEEEEE

⋆｡°✩ PWP Smut, Banter, Oral (M-receiving), no pronouns. Please let me know if I missed something, and I'll fix it.

Your nerves are on fire, each one a tiny beacon for arousal to run its rickety, lurching course through you. Overwhelmed, you bring your hands up and brace them against the headboard of the bed, clasping them into tight fists to calm the adrenaline rolling like waves through your veins.

It’s been too long since you felt this way, burdened with trembling limbs and stomach-knotting excitement, something that could only be accomplished when you have a certain surgeon between your gripping thighs. It’s been too long since you’ve seen Zayne, let alone have his hard, defined abs taut where you cradle his stomach.

He props his shoulders on dark blue satin pillows, his head in the perfect position for you to look at him. The unyielding gaze he holds does nothing to calm your heaving chest or aching nether regions as you take your time soaking and drinking him in.

Zayne has already changed so much since you last were with him. Your eyes are anchored to the widening of an already broad physique and the stretch and bulge of his biceps when he runs his hands down your back and over your ass to grip at the meat of your thighs. The golden glow of the nightstand lamp setting off against dark hazel eyes and battle-worn skin tempts you to squeeze his slowly fluctuating chest.

Before you can seal the deal on your spiraling dirty thoughts, Zayne catches your intentions, as if the position you were in didn’t already make it obvious. It’s a game that both amuses and frustrates you at the same time.

“It seems someone worked themselves up rather quickly.”

Lifting your sight from his chest, you meet a playfully mocking glint hidden behind a firm gaze. To keep your annoyance, or impatience rather, from showing, you set your attention on the intricate designs of the headboard.

“Just admiring the finish on the wood,” you excuse. “Lacquer?”

Zayne lifts a hand and pinches at your chin to force you to concentrate on him causing you to take your first shuttering breath that night. With piercing eyes, he searches for something in your face, so hauntingly that it makes you throb, and you silently hope he doesn’t feel your legs clamp harder at his waist or how much you're beginning to leak.

He doesn’t need it. As always, Zayne finds what he wants. His voice is inquisitive but the look in his eyes is teasing when he finally asks, “Are you sure that’s what it is? Your pupils are dilated, and I don’t think you’re one to really care about woodwork to that degree.”

You huff at his observation, always the smart-mouthed one. Could he blame you for being hot and bothered when you have an undeniably attractive man under you, especially when you haven't been able to touch him in weeks? It’s so hard with your schedules. Even now, it’s thanks to an unexpected sick day that your schedules managed to align. So, yeah, maybe you were more worked up than usual, but Zayne was a lot of things, stern, serious, reservedly kind, and very much aware of his commanding good looks and the effect it has on you.

Luckily, you’re not the only one who is having trouble maintaining a calm visage. His face holds a barely recognizable flush, his chest strains with too-deep breaths, and his large, scarred hands squeeze the back of your legs to an almost painful point before he swipes your tender skin with manicured thumbs.

It doesn’t take a genius to see that the tepid atmosphere is growing too tense for both of you. Who admits to it first is anyone’s guess, but it’s not likely to be Zayne without some encouragement.

So, you prance your fingertips across his angular jaw before drawing a seductive line from the point of his chin through the center of his pectorals, a line you plan to use to start your reacquaintance with his body very soon. The sticky heat radiates from him and seeps into you, knotting the aching twists in your lower stomach even tighter.

“You’re one to talk,” you remark, displaying your own mischievous thoughts. Your hand finds a place to roost over his left side and sprawls open over his heartbeat, reading the steadily rising pace. “I can hear you breathing from here, and your skin is so hot and sweaty.”

For someone whom others wrongfully describe as cold, something about him is smoldering when he rakes his eyes over your body. It’s hungry, and you’re so ready to devour and be devoured, as he forces himself to meet your face again.

“It’s the fever.”

Holding in your laughter, you smack your lips at him. “Didn’t you say you were feeling better today? You didn’t lie to me, did you, Zayne?”

The man doesn’t respond, usually a sign that he was thinking but the only thing on his mind was your hand running orbits around his nipple, outlining the smooth round expanse circling it. You grope lightly at his chest, marveling how full it makes your hand, before cascading that touch lower and lower.

The girth of his cock twitches against your ass, and you think you almost got him as he begins to ripple under your exploration; alas, he manages to keep in his sighs until you start to comb through the delicate valley of shallow black hair that curls from his lower stomach and disappears under his sweatpants.

“I knew you would blow it out of proportion otherwise,” he plays off, releasing another low groan. “It didn’t seem to stop you from marching right over, however.”

“Oh?”

Pitifully pouting, you roll onto your side next to him, press your chest into his arm, and lean in to kiss under his ear.

“You don’t like me taking care of you?” you whine with a pathetic infliction and a whimper, all the while adding pressure as you begin to massage his groin over his briefs, close enough he can feel the sensitive flesh right above the base of his cock imprinting with your touch but not quite where he wants it or how he wants it. “That’s so mean.”

Playfully, you blow against his ear, and there’s the smallest shudder that makes your heart pound hard. There’s nothing like seeing him slowly give in, trying to act in control when his cock readily jumps and stiffens as if to reach your hand. The reaction encourages you to shuffle your hand under his briefs in a few ticklish swipes only to be met with disappointment when his voice catches, hiding a guttural sound you could only curse him for not letting you hear when you wrap your fingers around his cock.

It frustrates you how he won’t even give you an inch of nonresistance, but his cock pulses at your touch, and you smile to yourself at how he couldn’t hide the eager hard-on that you were quickly encouraging with only a few twists and pets.

“When you forced me to let you take care of me,” he begins, pausing only to hiss softly when your fist tightens, which causes the warm slick of precum to seep into his pants and a brief fluttering of his eyes before he recollects himself. “I assumed that meant you’d make a wreck of my kitchen like last time.”

Slowly, you slide your calf over the top of his knee.

“My soup made you better though.”

Zayne groans as you pull him free from his clothing, holding onto his cock as it springs from too-tight confines. Your thumb follows the thick pulsing vein running up the side of his cock before tracing his dripping slit. His head slides back against the pillow, tilting back as he quietly gulps, and his thick throat stretches with the swallow.

“At the cost of my best pot.”

“A win's a win,” you mumble against the crux of his neck, which turns into a sigh when his arm makes space to slide under you, wrap around your upper hip, and squeeze at your ass.

“Now, I see you only had one thing in mind when you came over, after all.”

“That’s not it,” you mewl, squirming when he pinches your cheek harder.

“Are you saying you didn’t come over to take advantage when you have me like this?” he asks.

“You make it sound so calculated!” You shake your head. “I just know this will fix you up in no time. Besides, I missed you.”

There’s a short and irritatingly self-satisfied chuckle from him that makes your chest vibrate with the makings of a moan as his deepening voice rumbles in your ears. “I’m in your capable hands then,” he finally relents, not that you expected any other outcome, and you make your move to flip on top of him again.

There’s a snap somewhere finally releasing any inhibitions when your lips meet. It’s passionate, filled with every desire that’s been burning in him since he’s seen you. Zayne can be gentle, but he can also be bruising. Sometimes he’s a mix of both like when his tongue glides on top of yours and his teeth graze against your bottom lip during the short moments you break for air before capturing each other’s taste again.

You moan into his mouth when he cups the back of your neck and pulls you closer, deepening the kiss to the point you're becoming dizzy. It takes some strength to break free from the passion of it all, but you want more of him, and you’re not willing to wait anymore. So, you pull away and allow your mouth to collide against his collar before he has time to capture you again. Zayne’s eyes glower, half-lidded as he watches every pucker of your lips and every kiss and bite on his body.

Zayne slides a palm up the small of your back, the other going to rub the crux of your thigh, dipping inward to stroke at the yielding flesh right at your center. You moan against him, doing your best not to start dry humping him like you’re in heat whenever his cock pulse against your lower belly, but the scent wafting from him was becoming too much. So, you quickly begin to make your way to the promised land, trailing kisses along the way.

“I missed you,” you puff out softly before wading your tongue across his nipple then under his chest and to his stomach. Releasing his cock, you slide your hands down his sides, making sure to keep them aligned with the movement of your kisses. “You don’t know how much.”

Zayne brushes his fingers along your hand, following down your arm before gently cupping the side of your face, his thumb gliding over your cheek in a tender return of your sentiment as his once proud demeanor in his eyes softens with the smallest of glances from you.

“Is it more than I’ve missed you?” he whispers, and when you nod, he smiles. “I don’t think that’s possible.” Seeing you like this, so beautiful, all his, is a luxury. “I never tire of seeing you.”

Feeling a rush of shyness overtake you, you muffle the small sigh of his name against his stomach. Butterflies filling your stomach, you slide further down and kneel, your knees digging into the end of the bed as you sit back on them, your ass in the air as you hover your face over his lap. He’s so big that you’re never entirely sure where to start. You could go for where he’s most sensitive or—

“You can always use your hands instead if you don't think you can fit it all in your mouth,” he instructs half-jokingly, causing you to grow flustered at your overthinking.

“This isn’t the first time, I know how—” You clamp your mouth shut when you remember the first time you tried, something you’re sure he wouldn’t let you forget. “Don’t,” you order before sliding your tongue over his tip to clean away the pre-cum.

Your tongue laps along his glans as you slowly take his head into your mouth. It’s only when you finally get to work, sliding your mouth halfway down then back up that he finally stops his teasing and lets you have your way with him.

There’s an audible sound of relaxation when you squeeze his base with your palm and purse your lips around him. There’s a certain pride that comes with knowing you’re the only one who can see him like this, with his shoulders lax, eyes closing in bliss, and jaw slightly slacked as he groans. It’s not an easy sight to imagine on someone as stern as Zayne but the look of arousal was also something that seemed like it was made for him, which only causes your legs to squirm with need when it evolves into a low grumble from his chest.

You push it a little further to turn it into a growl by relaxing your throat and allowing it to press against the back, pulling back up and slurping the sheen of saliva clean from him before lapping your tongue over the tip. When you repeat the process, his hips twitch and buck, causing you to whimper when you feel more liquid scalding down your throat.

With a quick reposition to sit up more and force you closer, he presses both hands to cup at your cheeks, lifting your head partway up as he lightly strokes your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. Briefly, you look at him, heart fluttering a bit at the flush dusting the bridge of his nose and the wetness of his parted lips.

“You’re so good,” he breathes out, a chilly flow emanating from him, “so good for me.”

Blinking away the water in your eyes, you moan around him, the vibrations rolling down his heated flesh as you suck your cheeks around him as he holds your face. One hand goes to the back of your head, and you bob once again with the encouragement of his hand pressing down on your head.

“Fuck,” he hisses out when you pop him out your mouth and brush your lips down the side of his shaft. You pepper it in kitten kisses before nipping lightly. You squeeze around his tip, making it your mission to keep your thumb grinding his slit and blushing head while you cup and suck his balls.

When you feel them strain and tense, not once but twice in your mouth you have enough warning to know he’s about to cum. It’s with one last stroke of his shaft and one last quick suck around his head that he paints your mouth white, the excess seeping from your mouth and flooding over his length.

You take your time cleaning your mess, like you promised. It’s with slow, deliberate movements as you allow him to ride out his much too quickly fading high, the last throbbing spilling the last drops of his finish on your lips. You release him with a pop and a sigh.

“How messy,” he quietly remarks, causing you to tense as his thumb ghosts over your lips. “You missed a spot,” he explains and slides the finger into your mouth for you to readily close around. He wipes it clean against your tongue before sealing your mouth with a kiss. He slides his finger free from your kiss, and you can feel the lingering wetness of your saliva against your face when he holds you in place to kiss you more passionately.

His strength starts to become too much when he grips your shoulders, pushes you towards the bed, and pins you on your back.

Breaking the kiss and pushing against his arms, you puff out, “Wait, I’m supposed to be in charge today.”

“Sorry to change your plans, but I don’t think I can hold back anymore,” he explains with a growing smile that makes shivers climb up your spine from the sheer hunger in it. “Allow me to show you how much I missed you as well.”

#zayne x reader #love and deepspace x reader #zayne smut #lads x reader #lnd x reader #zayne love and deepspace #adelssmut #notsfw #sorry for the wait hon #i kept getting posting anxiety

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onlymingyus · 3 months

Text

Like We Just Met (teaser)

pairing; yoon jeonghan x jeon wonwoo x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni)

warnings; friends to lovers, reunited friends, mild dom!jeonghan, mild mlm, flashbacks to high school, threesome, unprotected sex, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, temperature play, wonwoo is able to lift the reader, pet names/nicknames, cameos from other members -- as always if i have left anything out and its glaring let me know.

w/c; 9.8k (920 this teaser)

a/n; thank you to @onlyseokmins for proofreading for me!

this fic will be released sunday 2/4 at 3 pm est to read it now subscribe to my patreon and click here

“Welcome to Eleva, Miss..."

He didn’t know your name. Furrowing your brows, you step forward and clear your throat as you offer the man your hand, letting him take it gently into his.

“Y/L/N.”

Your voice is meeker than you intended, but it was a bit daunting to see the long hallway with a single ornate door that seemed to loom in the distance. Was this the man who you were interviewing?

“Miss Y/L/N. I apologize; when Artistaire set this up, they didn’t give many details. It seems like that’s part of the interview process. I’m Hansol, the personal assistant of Mr. Yo–”

The name was hanging on the tip of Hansol’s lips when he smiled and tilted his head, thinking better of it.

“Supposed to be a surprise, isn’t it?”

He was charming but obviously not who you were interviewing. You smile at Hansol taking back your hand as he walks beside you towards the penthouse door.

“Yes, it’s a silly premise, honestly but it’s supposed to provide a “real” interview experience. The idea that my editor came up with was that this creates tension that the reader can feel through words.”

Hansol smiles, glancing over at you once again and giving you a quick appraising look before reaching for the door in front of him with a sigh.

“Seems like it works out. The articles are always interesting. May I take your keycard?”

You look confused for a split second until you remember the black and gold card in your fingers and lift it, handing it over to the man in front of you. With another grin, Hansol taps the card against a reader on the door and pushes it open for you, letting you go inside first.

“Mr. Y–” Laughing and once again catching himself, Hansol lifts his free hand to rub at the back of his neck before correcting his words. “My employer and the other gentleman you will be interviewing are right this way. Follow me, Miss Y/L/N. Also, if you need anything during your visit with us at Eleva, just ask for me personally, alright?”

Offering him a nod, you follow, lowering your eyes to your bag, ready to take out your things as you enter a large living area and your breath is taken away by not only the aesthetic of the place but also the floor and the ceiling windows, offering you the view you had imagined in the elevator.

“It’s stunning, right?”

A familiar voice causes your brows to furrow even as you take a step towards the windows. Why did that man sound so familiar?

Jeonghan tilts his head, looking at you from behind as you look out the window at the view. He could tell you were gorgeous even from where he was standing but he hadn’t seen your face just yet. You seemed to have been startled by his voice; that hadn’t been his intention but he did have that effect on people occasionally.

“My apologies; I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Yoon Jeon—”

“Jeonghan?”

Turning towards him, your eyes widening, you stare at him as if you had just seen a ghost. Swallowing hard, Hansol takes a step back towards Jeonghan, pursing his lips before offering him the penthouse key.

“If you need me, sir – “

“Then I’ll call you. You can go, Hansol.”

A smile pulls at Jeonghan’s lips as he steps towards you, putting the keycard into his suit jacket pocket. Dark eyes move over your face and body before the man you have known for years is within arms reach and he laughs in disbelief.

“No way…Kitten?”

Your eyes were searching Jeonghan so closely to make sure he was real that you hadn’t realized that another man had moved into the room. Hearing the nickname that you had once been called in high school by your two best friends, you glance to your right, only to take a step back in shock to see Wonwoo smiling at you.

“I– no one has called me that in a long time.”

Grinning, Jeonghan reaches out to take your hand, as you seem to almost stumble in surprise at seeing ghosts from your past. He wasn’t worried about the glass behind you breaking but he was concerned about you getting hurt from falling down, as unstable as you seemed on your feet.

“Well, no one but us called you that anyway.

It had been around a decade since you had seen either of your friends in person after the three of you had made promises to stay in touch. Graduation had come and gone and the promise became harder and harder to keep as each of you went in different directions.

You knew they were successful. Jeonghan’s family had always been successful so it was a clear path for him into business. Wonwoo, you had seen him as the face of many brands and the star of many dramas and movies. Meanwhile, your road to success had taken a bit longer and you were still climbing. Now your climb was looking like a shear cliff face as you looked at the two men in front of you with expectant looks in their eyes.

“Holy shit, you look great, Kitten.”

Wonwoo’s voice was quiet but warm, just as you remembered it. He had always been a comfort in your life when you were younger and you had found yourself cheering him on with each award he had received over his years of blooming into a renowned actor.

“Wonwoo… thanks.”

READ THE FULL FIC NOW ON PATREON

#jeonghan smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svthub #svt smut #jeonghan x reader #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #teaser

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honestsycrets · 10 months

Text

dedication | young!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ pairing | young geneticist!miguel o'hara x scientist!reader

❛ type | oneshot, explicit.

❛ summary | alchemax is a dangerous place to work. miguel's new assistant may be over her head. maybe he can help her, though.

❛ tags | virgin reader, f!reader, shitty science, plot heavy, loose canon references, literary liberties, loss of virginity, overprotective Miguel o'hara, jealous miguel o'hara, some objectification, workplace politics, aftercare (as requested), corruption (is it tho?), bc what bc, Spanish is not translated, young!miguel, heel-foot fetish, somewhat romantic.

❛ fulfilled request | can we please have a miguel x virgin reader and he didn’t even know until he was already putting it in?? And then voila his corruption kink unexpectedly growS? @a--dedicated--fangirl

❛ sy’s notes | miguel sort of works on that whole corruption aspect throughout this fic, but i wanted to meld these two ideas together to create a reader who is entirely dedicated to Miguel. This piece was a bit long for me.

“Miguel, your new assistant is here.”

On paper, you’re an excellent candidate for the genetics program.

An excellent GPA, renowned company internships, decent publications, and a diverse upbringing. It was all good. Great, even. But as the head of the genetics program at Alchemax, he has a little thing called priorities. Interviewing everyone himself was low on the rung of shit he felt like he should be doing. There was, however, one little, itty bitty, tiny problem with bringing you on board.

“Dr. O’Hara? ¿Estas bien?”

That shirt-- is not meant to hold those-- His brain was left field, glimpsing at them. A slightly sheer button-up revealed the outline of your bustier and its inability to conceal your body. They should have been illegal. He was pretty sure they were illicit in the handbook on his table. He should really read that again. Maybe then he wouldn’t be salivating over something as simple as a co-worker-- He needed to get out of the lab. The bleached walls tightened around him, the space smaller than he remembered. He was going to get caught.

Realistically, the lab was full of witty people. Many of them were witty men with subpar looks and stupider dicks. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. Not only because your lips were plump, painted petal-pink, and kissable or because the depth of your sultry eyes went straight in the dick. No, but because that would be improper of a man of his stature to tell one of the only women in his care that she was too gorgeous for the job you were clearly qualified for.

“Sí, coño,” He fixed his glasses, crooked on his broad nose. He stood up from his desk and grabbed his lab coat, swirling it around his broad shoulders. If he wasn’t mistaken, you tracked the movement with your eyes. “Do you want a cafecito? Miss…”

You told him your name. He mulled it over on his tongue, lathing it in a gentle acknowledgment. Cemented it in a place he wouldn't forget. You tinked your head to the side, your lashes fluttering when he cleared his throat. Great, just shocking--

“After you,” he headed for the door. He held it open for you, plastering his back to the wood. It didn't matter. You slid by closer than he’d prefer, your hand catching on his belt buckle with muttered apologies. This wasn’t going to end well.

Cafecito is an excellent excuse to pull his dumbass together.

It also calms his nerves, centers his mind, and allows him to compartmentalize. Whether or not you could hold your own wasn’t his issue, his issue was the necessity of someone he could trust. Ugly, beautiful-- so long as they were efficient, Miguel would make due. The cafeteria was a large and clean space. The many tables were crowded with wrap-around stations for poorly crafted, misery-inducing meals. Miguel paid and took a seat at a creaky table. One where he could see the door open, shut, and keep an eye on the comings and goings of meager scientists and annoying managers.

“You’ll be working with me.”

You pursed your lips around the warm cup of coffee, taking a ginger sip. He noted your lipstick stain that remained as you pushed the cup toward the middle of the table you shared with him. This damn suit vest was stifling. He gave you a long, slow look, tilting his head to the fact that you’d not drunk anything. It’d be rude to acknowledge.

“Delgado told me,” you smiled warmly. “He said you’re a genius. I don’t know that I believe in geniuses.”

Hmph. Delgado, things fell into place. That sycophant knew what he liked. He also knew that Miguel was better than him, always was, and always would be. Miguel offered you a slick smile, convinced he could assure you otherwise if he needed to. “Delgado says a lot of things. I’m surprised he gave you to me.”

“Why is that, O’Hara?” the way his name slipped off your tongue was a hot sin. If only he believed in a god. His eyelids shifted over his eyes, heavy-lidded and dark.

“You’re beautiful. He likes to collect beautiful things,” Miguel tried, curious. Your nails clicked in succession over the table. A repetitive click, click, click. He would be annoyed too if he were no more than a ploy. A distraction. Miguel wasn’t sure that it wasn’t working. His eyes flickered down, catching one of your palms curling into a tight fist, tension rolling through your fingers and up your arms. “He knows I do too.”

You leaned in, close enough that he could spot the unique freckles spread out in a crescent moon beneath a layer of makeup on your face. Beautiful. “I’m not here to belong to you, O’Hara. I hope you know that.”

He was off to a great, fantastic start.

“Understood.” Miguel leaned back in his chair, a smirk creeping up his lips. Or, believe that you believed that. You spared him any more mincing comments. Appeased by his suggestion, you brought your drink back to your lips.

“Good. What are we sequencing?”

“Me.”

You swallowed. “You? You can’t be--”

Mhm, he stared, lips pressed tightly together. “You’ll code my DNA. Then we’ll splice it.”

"With what?"

"You'll see."

“Is this your little,” you swirled your finger in a circle. “Pet project?”

Unfortunately not, he would have liked to say. That information was confidential, and though you worked on the project, there were levels to his willingness to involve you in the delicate flow of workplace politics. Still, you might make a healthy distraction from his work. Miguel took a swig of his cafecito, boring into the black substance.

“Something like that.”

Having a pretty assistant means things don’t always get done according to schedule. Not quickly enough, not by far. There is a time limit to everything at Alchemax. The quicker, the better. Thus this project demanded more hours of his time. The project was spliced between the work required of him by superiors and you, your quirks, and your preferences.

Miguel has learned a great many things about you in a short amount of time. You don’t appreciate misplaced pet names. You actually can’t handle coffee because of the caffeine or the sugar. He also learns things about himself. How little he likes when Delgado comes to check on progress because he isn’t actually checking on shit. He's checking you out.

He likes to weasel his nasty fingers around the door, peering in to try and find out what specimen he’s actually working on. Miguel was much too smart for that. His beady eyes caught Miguel over your shoulder, mumbling up to him about a new finding in tests you ran earlier that day. Your face mask twirled around your index finger, finally free and at a documentation workspace. Funny, because he clearly redacts information from your well-recorded notes on the daily. You refuse to include less.

“Hey Mike,” he said. “How are things… Oh hey, you. You settling in, honey? Mike treating you ok? I can discipline him for you.”

“As if you could,” Miguel huffed.

But Delgado spying on you, the way you record progress by pouting out your lips, shifting between paper and your lab reports, was intolerable. Because... well, he has sensitive information on there. Your nose scrunches in distaste, but you bow your head just slightly as a hello. He might be his supervisor, but Miguel doesn’t need one to know why this asshole is in his lab turning his smarmy brown eyes over the way you sit: one leg over the other. You seem to realize it too, trailing your eyes over his gaudy suit to Miguel’s sinewy hand on your shoulder.

“Stop being a creep,” Miguel complained, “She has actual work to do.”

“Actual work? As opposed to--“

“Yes, what you do.” Miguel spat out. You eschewed a giggle, turning your face over a pristine white lab jacket that thankfully, you had no qualms in wearing. Otherwise, he might not finish any work in the lab at all.

“I supervise--

“You’re still talking but we’re not listening,” Miguel waved him off, plucking up papers by your side. Your eyes snap up to Miguel’s deep chocolate eyes hidden behind the thin frame of his metal glasses, waiting for a proper response. “Goodbye, Aaron.”

Miguel walks to the door, locks it with a click, and returns to your side. You glance at his white lab coat, fluttering around his tapered waist. He loves the way your eyes look at him with a soft, inviting expression, beseeching him to come to sit by your side as he always did. “Not a fan of Delgado, I take it.”

“Are you?” Miguel sits with his legs spread, his fingers threading through his thick brown hair. You set your papers down, swiveled toward him. The wheels of your rolling chair squeak on either side of his thick, black boots. His eye catches your thick thighs, squashed between your midi skirt, its atrocious slip causing him discomfort. His hand leaves his thick hair, dropping in unison side by side.

“I can’t stand being called honey, Mike.”

“Shut up.”

The days proceed similarly. Days filled with brushing past him as he slides in samples and reagents. He might lose a sample, clattering on the floor, and you always rush to help him clean up. Lunch together, because no matter how late he eats, you’re there beside him. Then as night falls, you stay until he has finished whatever he needs to do.

“Time to eat something,” you slipped into his office. The clock ticked past midnight. Miguel flicked through handwritten pages of information that did not need to be recorded in computer files. You watched his eyes scan over the ink on the page, acknowledging you with a grumpy grunt. Not now, not when he was so close to finishing the last section of the project.

“Empanada,” you turned his palm over, placing the flaky pastry in his hand. Caramelized apple. He loved a good apple empanada. He watched as you walked over to the coffee maker, drawing him a warm cafecito just how he liked it. Miguel dropped his pen, stretching out his aching spine.

“Gracias. From where?”

“I made them,” you set down the cup a little harder than intended. The surface rippled, throwing hot coffee drips onto his pages. His eyes flickered up from the pages to your eyes. Without thinking, he blathers:

“That so?” A pause. “Don’t you have a man?”

“Miguel. With this sequencing project, you’re the only man in my life. Shut up and eat the empanada.”

“Huh. Good. I like that.” He swallowed the empanada with a bob of his head, his tongue lathing over his teeth for any more of the sweet sugar. He stood up, finding your expression soft, drawn out by a sense of longing that he couldn’t imagine he saw.

“You like my sad love life?”

Yes.

“No, we have a company event. A ball,” Miguel chided, his tone gentling as he slipped away from his desk, abandoning his steamy coffee on his desk. He backed out of the doorway, “It’s all Stone’s politics. You know how these things are. I have to go. Come with me.”

“Is that a request or an order?”

“A date.”

I’d love to. Your words were the only thing that made tonight bearable. Slinking his tanned skin into a dark blue suit that cinched everything too tight was… unbearable. It clung to his skin like a second skin and choked off his air. But it might be worth it to see your face-- just maybe. He tracked the fluttering tails of fish behind bulletproof glass, following them as they fluttered away into their rock. He wished he could too.

“Miguel?”

“You’re here,” he turned around, dropping the champagne he idly held in his hand. It went forgotten by his boot as you called his name again. His gaze fixed on yours, the slinky navy blue dress caused his heart to thrum through his chest, chasing the sight of your body at his feet, picking shards of glass up with the aid of a worker, apologizing profusely for the mess. A soft puff of breath slipped from his lips as you stood back up, gripping your purse a little harder in your hands. He ran his hand over his jaw, drawing himself back to his senses.

“Miggy,” he husked out. “Call me Miggy.”

“You look handsome, Miggy,” his name felt unreal on your lips until he felt the pressure on his elbow. Your soft hands slunk around his, cradling him for some security in the face of the large doors. He shook himself back to his senses. Right, there was a reason he was here. “But shouldn’t we go?”

He should have-- but did he want to? No, not really. He didn’t want to see Stone’s greasy face, let Aaron take a peek at how you looked dolled up, or any of the rest of these fuckers. What he wanted was something else entirely.

“Listen.” Miguel stopped, his other hand coming to the jeweled bracelet on your wrist. The doors to the ballroom lapsed, groups of older men filtering in and out with their pieces of the night: doting wives, longing husbands, and partners that their wives or husbands probably didn’t know about. “Don’t wander off from me. They’re all snakes. All of them.”

“Even you?”

“Hermosa,” you didn’t leer at him. “I’m the least of your worries.”

He wasn’t wrong. The ballroom was dolled up in lush fabrics, fine china, and a copious amount of food as it was every year. Miguel found the attempt to distract from what really went on behind closed doors at Alchemax a bit cloying. This year the music was at least tolerable. It filtered out into the ballroom in a syrupy melodies driven on by the soft, promises of rich men for the exchange of sex. For much of the night, he could stomach the various men poking and prodding at him about his impending research. So long as you were here.

“Miggy,” you breathed, a hot puff of air against his ear. He leaned down, his hand atop of yours. “Will you dance with me?”

Dance? Miguel had two left feet-- it’s why he was a geneticist. For all the work you did on his behalf in the lab, including this very night, he owed you the benefit of whatever you wanted. He searched out a quiet area, one where the only disruption could be the stream of moonlight in through a window. You preferred it over the wall of vivacious men and over-powdered women. He preferred it over the atrocity of his footwork.

“It’s not much of a date,” Miguel’s hand slid around yours. He encompassed your small palm with his large hand, the other gliding across the soft, exposed skin of your back. You swayed with him, side to side. He was an awful dancer, but there was something endearing about that. He saw it in your eyes, the glimmer of curiosity, gliding your dark heels against the inside of his foot. Damn, he still sucked.

“No,” you agreed, shifting to take the lead. He followed your steps. Right, back, left, up. Maybe he stepped on your long dress once or twice, too. Shock, he cursed again, stepping over your foot.

“You’re remarkably bad at this.” You settled your head on his chest, letting your box steps fade into little more than the shifting of your hips.

“I know. Let’s just-- sway?”

“Swaying is good.”

“O’Hara,” boomed Stone. But of course— peace couldn’t last forever. Like a bullet through the chest, a voice caused him to turn in startle. His tan cheeks flushed with warmth, feeling cut off from the cover of others. He was dressed in the most gaudy of clothes that almost seemed to match the crooked expression on his pale face. No matter how many times he tried to fix it, it always looked… wrong.

Stone’s hands came together, clapping multiple times to force the crowd of politicians, scientists, and bought-in participants to fade away. His voice caused Miguel to growl, a low rumbly noise that you soothed with your breasts pushing gingerly against his arm. He could do it. He could handle this pompous little shit-- “And who is this beauty? A new girlfriend, perhaps? Fiance? O’Hara could do with a wife. Settle him down, y’know.”

Miguel huffed out of his nostrils. “This is my lab partner,” he cleared his throat, leaning forward. “For… the project.”

“Her? A lab partner? Ha!”

Shock. He didn’t have to look at you to know you were insulted. Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing out the tension as you smiled through the interaction, taking over for Miguel. “We have measurable results.”

“That’s what I like to hear, sweet thing. Now, Miguel, Aaron has found a test subject…”

“I’ll interview them.”

“No need! I--”

“Excuse me, Mr. Stone. I’ll let you two talk,” you slipped away, your heels clicking off into the busy crowd. Stone was talking. Miguel knew he should listen closely. His half-formed plan to see what the future held for his research was wafting into the air, wisps of it in his ear. Tomorrow-- test-- can you? Panic blinded his senses. He could find you nowhere in the room, and even if he did, would he be too late?

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine, it’s… excuse me.”

The issue with falling for someone was the scythe of his fear. His position was inherently risky. No matter how many groups of people he cut through trying to find you, you weren’t there. No tiny little appetizers of shrimp on half a skewer. No booze, because your head would swim. Not near the bathrooms, either. He rushed down the steps when he found you, just before the large iron gates, staring up at the stars peppering the sky.

At your feet, Aaron. His drunken fingers trying and failing to guide the strap off of your ankle. You, of course, sat there staring dumbly down at his failed attempts to do something as simple as fix your damn heel.

“I’ll take it from here.” Miguel booted Aaron out of the way. Who, with his sloppy sloshed curses, tried to win a fight with him. He eventually won out. Aaron slunk away, somewhere up the steps. Miguel wasn’t counting. “You didn’t listen.”

“Hm?”

Miguel loosened both straps, sliding his open palm under your foot for one then the other. You gazed at him, sliding the black heels off your feet, tutting his tongue at the blistered back of your feet.

“I told you not to wander off.”

“I just wanted to see the stars. Besides, it was just Aaron.”

“It’s never just Aaron. It’s Aaron and Stone.” Miguel’s eyebrows pushed against one another, recording your failure to listen. You crossed one leg over the other, sliding your toes over his silk tie, kept beneath a vest. He knelt before you, searching your eyes for the right answer. “You don’t know… what you’re getting into. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“I don’t need you to. I can take care of myself, Miguel. Please don’t--” you sighed. “Don’t be like them.”

He knew what you meant. Like Aaron, peeling off your shoes at the sign of discomfort because you were a pretty woman. Or Stone, who couldn’t comprehend your value as a scientist. Those who doubted you because of your color, gender, or a mixture of the two. His mouth twisted in frustration. He was in deep. Whatever you desired, he wanted to give. It came at a price.

“Are you mine,” the words came out stiff, “or theirs?”

“Miggy,” you turned the word over on your tongue, willing him to stand down. His dark eyes settled on yours, unmoving. “Why do I have to pick?”

“You can’t have both. You’ll have to choose. One day.”

Your mind worked. He knew from the way you pursed your lip out, then in, puncturing its pillowy surface with your teeth. You shifted your gaze to the water, the stream coursing down the unfeeling stone. Miguel's fingers ran across your inner thigh, causing you to gaze down at him. The steps of others on the other side of the fountain, fading into the depths of the night caused you to break his gaze. Miguel offered you his hand, fitting the shoes under his other arm as he walked toward the valet. You took his hand and interlaced your fingers.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” you said, though the words felt thready and thin, nary a whisper. Something in the undercurrent of your voice concerned him. A thread that needed to be snipped, convinced of the vileness of the city-- of who you worked for.

He doesn’t make mistakes.

But he left the project code on his desk. It should have been there, yet, the corpse of a decrepit, awful creature withered on the lab floor proved otherwise. Someone had taken it because he was distracted. As a result, someone lost their life... even if it was Stone's doing.

Now, scouring through his papers, his hands tremored like a common drug addict. He supposed he was one, a druggie, tremoring like a shot hungry, Rapture crazed--

“Miggy?”

He snapped around. His gaze melded your figure into one beautiful blurb, even with the glasses on his broad nose. It was your voice, coded in something close to concern. Miguel ran his hands through his hair, long strands falling messily over his eyes and cheekbones. He flattened his hands out atop his head.

“What are you looking for?”

“The notes,” he weathered a breath. He doddered about the room, throwing a stack of paper onto the floor. They crumpled over the floor, mixed projects, notes on the specimen, but none were his. “Where are my notes?”

“You’re sick,” your voice broke gently, as if speaking them alone helped. A horrid crack of laughter slipped from his throat, drawing into a long lament as he repeated the words after you. Sick, you said, he was sick. If being sick was the least of his issues, he would have been a happy man. Your steps rang into his ear, heavier than before, painful and loud. He crumpled onto the couch in his office, his hands cupping them. Your soft hands coursed over his chest, unbuttoning his starched button-up and sliding it down his muscular upper arms. “This might hurt.”

No kidding, needles always hurt. But the instantaneous relief that flooded his system overrode the momentary pain. As your fuzzy figure came into focus, he recognized the drug that you set aside.

“You didn’t--”

“You were right, Miggy, about the-- Mr. Sims.” Miguel gazed at you, leafing through novels of notes with trembling hands. He cursed himself for subjecting you to seeing that. Not quite human, not quite... The twisted look on the poor man’s face. What months of research with one another had offered. He would fix it. He knew the research was on point. It was the application that was lacking.

“I have a copy of your notes,” you murmured as if someone could hear. They likely could. “¿Ay, puñeta, dónde está? Ah! Here, here it is. Your… profile.”

“You kept it,” he glanced down at the hastily scribbled note attached to the clip. ‘Miguel’s profile’ alongside a soft pink heart. He stopped your hands from thumbing through another leaflet. His eyes traced the dry ink of the heart. His thumb moved to stroke it, catching the sight of bubbling tears welling over in your eyes out of the corner of his eye. The tears slid down your full cheeks, triggering his discomfort to well up in his stomach. Miguel shifted closer, flicking fat droplets off your slight jaw.

“Hermosa,” Miguel shifted his head, cocking his eyebrow. “¿Que te pasa?”

“I should have listened to you Miggy,” you began, inhaling air forcefully through your nostrils. Breathe, you murmured. Miguel's soft hand cupped the back of your neck like a collar. You were happy to be collared by his hand, it felt safe.

His eyes narrowed, thumb caressing the loose strands of hair at your nape. “You should have. You know I'll take care of you."

You nodded.

"You have to be fully dedicated to me.”

“I am.”

“Show me.” You fluttered your eyes, the gears of your mind working to understand what he meant. His hand fell away to trace the bow of your black blouse. He tugged on the knot, slipping the bow loose and running his fingers over your exposed cleavage below. “Take off the blouse.”

Was it necessary? Some might have said no-- but sex, in its connective nature-- was the ultimate dedication. At the end of it all, that's what he craved: your eyes, your actions, all born with him in mind. With trembling fingers, you untucked your shirt from your black slacks. Miguel sat back, tracking the soft lace of your balconette bra teasing his eye. You loitered for a minute too long, enough for him to lift his thick eyebrow.

“Don’t stop now,” he said. Your knees knocked together, slipping the shirt over and off your torso before draping it on the arm of his couch. Your bra followed quickly after, slipping out of the twisted straps. You skimmed your hands over your breasts, holding them for comfort.

"No." Miguel flicked his fingers, motioning for your hands to move from your thick nipples. You pushed your breasts together, allowing him to marvel at them a second longer. “Que maravilla... You have no idea how long I’ve waited. Go on, take off the rest now.”

You suckled in breath, sliding the button of your pants loose. Then the zipper, its cloth scratching your thighs on its way to pool around your ankles. You stepped out of them, joining them too with your shirt. Miguel sat up, running his calloused fingers over the side of your hip and waist. His thumbs hooked in your panties, drawing them down over your pussy, a moist spot on your panties connecting a small string of wetness to your pussy. His palm slid between your thighs, pinned by your thighs pressed together, whether out of an innate need for more pressure or shyness to show him how wet you were. Hm. Miguel melded your ass, striking your skin with his large palm, it jiggled.

“Miggy,” you breathed, shy and intimidated. “I have to tell you something…”

“Lay down,” he told you.

“But Miggy, what if someone…” Your eyes darted away from his, chewing on his cheek as you slid back down beside him. You settled on the couch, your legs thrown over his thighs. The couch was stiff, hard against your neck. You stole a haughty glimpse at his face, focused entirely on coursing his palms over your calves and thighs, then back down to your slight toes. He ground your feet over his stiff cock, obscured by the fabric of his slacks. He felt big-- bigger than you could have imagined from the look on your face.

“¡Basta!” Miguel growled, “No one is going to come in. Let me see you.”

You flushed.

“You want me to…” you glanced down, your curls were soft to the touch.

“Touch yourself for me.”

With your heart strumming in your chest, you shifted your hand down, spreading your lips, soft and wet. You were so wonderfully shy to follow his orders, the pads of your fingers rubbing along your outer lips, massaging them warm and swollen. You buried your eyes into your other arm, dragging up and down, over and over. A delightful sigh greeted his ear, ensuring that though you were too embarrassed to look at him, you loved it. He allowed it for now-- because he was a gracious, forgiving man.

“Shock,” Miguel shuffled at the button and zipper of his pants, freeing himself from his slacks. He spat into his palm, stroking over his fleshy length, squishing his cock against your foot. Your toes curled over his cockhead, engrossed in Miguel’s rumbling pants, the soft pleasure that bloomed from his chest. Your eyes trained on his lips, the slight breath suckled between his teeth. Your fingers glazed over your stiff clit, pausing as though you needed his permission, just how he wanted it. Your sweet submission.

His eyebrow perked. “You can touch it.”

“Oh,” you glanced down, tracing the way Miguel fisted himself, swirling up to his cockhead, along fat veins and the bubble of salty fluid on his tip. His permission seemed to spur something else in you, flicking your swollen clit to the sound of his pleasured growling, your own pleasure growing in tandem with his.

“¡Ya!” he annunciated, watching as you failed to stop. All at once he stopped his ministrations. A sigh escaped his chest as he pushed himself up, smacking your hand away from your puffy cunt. His cock bobbed between your bodies. You wanted to touch it, but couldn’t.

"Wait," you cried out. His cock twitched as he lowered his hips down, drawing sweet lubricant on his cock, stroking your pussy. He leaned forward, capturing your mouth in a warm kiss. He dipped his hand down, his cockhead prodding and poking, dipping lower with the aid of his hand.

“MiggyI’mavirgin,” you said all at once, his cockhead nudged against your entrance. Miguel’s head about snapped as he looked up, eyes popped wide open in disbelief. Before he could quite form a coherent thought, your hands shot out to grip his suit vest, stopping him where he was.

“¿Qué dejiste? Say that again?”

“I haven’t… I haven't had sex,” you murmured. He hadn’t put it together. Your shyness, the awkward way you shuffled around, loosening your bra and hiding your perfect breasts from his eyes. The words were finally out in the open but didn't register.

"A..." Miguel fisted his cock, once, then twice, shifting back to kneel before you. Your eyes fell on his muscular thighs, the way his hand fisted his dick. “You’re a virgin?”

“I’m too old for this,” you mumbled, hiding your eyes with your palms. Miguel shifted to cast aside your hands from your eyes, his muscular body caging you underneath, looking for an explanation. “I just. Between school, work, I never had time.”

Not that he was complaining.

"No boyfriend?"

You shook your head. He couldn't believe his luck. Not only were you gorgeous, but you were untouched. His, completely and fully. He liked it better that way-- to be the first memory smeared in your head. So that when you looked back on this moment, right now, it would forever be marked by his face.

"It's mine," he blurted out all at once. "I want your first to be mine."

His hand dropped down to your cunt. The pad of his middle finger worked at your entrance as though he were exploring the truth of your statement, stretching you with the aid of his fingers. You were tight, it had to be true.

You nodded, face buried deep in your arm. It didn’t take but moments for him to draw his hand back, suckling the lubricant from his fingertips. You distantly registered his words, “Damn it, you... you don't know what you do to me.”

Before you could say a word more, Miguel positioned the head of his dick against your slippery virgin hole. You clenched, glancing down between your bodies again, as you had a dozen times, anxiously waiting. Miguel hushed you, the repetitive shushing of his lips soothing you into complacency, forcing your muscles to relax. “It might hurt. But the pain won’t last,” he assured you.

He rolled his hips forward. His sharp exhale shook with every centimeter that gave way. Your walls were forced apart, suffocating you on the shock of adjusting to having someone, no not someone, Miguel-- your Miguel, sinking into your tense body. He throbbed, twitching in your body. His hands fisted in the aged couch, catching the breath in his chest.

“Ay, Miggy,” your nails dug into his shirt, loose around his firm muscles. “Miggy, no puedo,”

“You can, you’re so good, eres tan buena,” Miguel swept your lips between his, taking the moment of your surprise to bury himself further, swallowed by your cunt that resisted his intrusion. Your lips fluttered in the kiss, keened out a cry. The pain of his dick, forcing its way through your passage is quelled by the knowledge that he’s here, with you, his girth forcing you apart, stretching you apart, seating himself flush against your womb. His voice was caramelized, sugared over, and so good. “Look at how well you’re taking me already.”

“Coño, that’s a tight pussy,” He slid his hips back, the warm sensation of his withdrawal pulling free before shoving back in, a cry shoving forth from your lips, filling his office and the connected lab with your cries. He might have heard someone draw the door open, his hips driving back in, centered on the magnificent groans that stuttered free from your chest with Miguel’s careful thrusts. You keened his name, a repetitious Miggy, Miggy, Miggy-- it was Aaron, probably. He recognized the way his feet drug on the floor.

He hoped he didn’t just hear it. He hoped he saw it too, the way his balls slapped against your ass, the mess of blood soaking the already unhygienic couch, the way his cock pulsed. You were blissed out, so full and well of him like no one else ever had-- because you were his, and his alone. It wasn’t just sex. It was more than that. From Aaron, whose shuffled steps fell out of his office, to any other little bitch in the office who had their own gain.

“Damn,” Miguel shifted back, hooking his hand around your thigh to drag you back onto his dick. He swirled his thumb against your stiff clit, whirling it around in one circle, then another, and by the third your knees knocked together, bearing down on his cock to hold him still. “I can’t--” you stuttered out, I can’t--”

“You’re going to,” he hissed. “You’re going to cum right here, right now, split open on my dick.”

With another circle, you croaked an ugly cry, a terrible, ugly cry that Miguel couldn’t find any more beautiful as your body buzzed around him, tightening and squeezing your already tight cunt around him. Blissful pleasure radiated there, riding his dick for the friction against your virgin walls, your thoughts fading into a realm of insistent pleasure, where thoughts were space mush.

Miguel withstood the pressure on his cock, clamping his hand down on your hip. His thrusts stuttered, filling your belly with whip after whip with his full hot cum. Your body twitched in the throes of his orgasm. He tracked his eyes down to your body, withdrawing with a bubbly pop of his dick from your abused hole, the intermingling of cum and virginal blood dribbling down your cheeks.

Your gaze tracked Miguel, pressing his lips toward yours one more time. You shifted on the couch, legs pathetically tremoring. Miguel chuckled and walked toward his electric kettle, papers crunching underneath his feet, “Don’t bother moving. Not that you could, anyway.”

He warmed a warm cloth with hot water, testing its temperature on his palm before sitting beside your crumpled legs, spreading your legs to clean his mess and sooth the abrasive way he took you. He spread your lips, ensuring you were clean before he would flip the cloth, dropping it on top of your vulva.

“You know you’re mine,” he asked, though it came out as a statement. With another cloth, Miguel cleaned his soft cock of the mess, exhaustion of the sex and what was to come returning to his gentle, deep voice.

“Sí,” you answered.

“And you’d do anything for me. Only me.”

The words were laced with something more than a suggestion, but an affirmation of your loyalty. Your love. You pushed yourself up, hanging off his arm after he tucked himself into his pants. “Para siempre.”

He leaned down, plucking the bundle with his sequenced DNA information. Your eyes coursed the information on the page, darting up to his tired eyes. You wanted to ask why or what he knew. Miguel knew it didn't matter. You were his now, from the top of your head to the bottom of your gorgeous toes. You trusted him fully. As you should. With the empty vial of Rapture sitting beside him, forgotten, he spared you a mincing smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Good. Let's fix our project.”

#miguel ohara oneshot #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #spider 2099 imagine #across the spiderverse imagine #atsv imagines #atsv imagine #spider 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara/reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara smut

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jockbroski34 · 4 months

Text

New Blood (Chapter 1)

This is my first TF story. I hope you enjoy and I have plenty of other ideas I've come up with for future stories.

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I would’ve been surprised if you told me how my first day at my new school turned out. My dad was transferred to a different branch at the job he worked at, so we were forced to move to a different state. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t miss my old town, but it’s not like I was that close with most of the people I went to school with anyways. On the bright side, being transferred to a new high school gives me the chance to start fresh and make some new friends. Little did I know how right I really was.

The first day started out about as boring as you could imagine. The teachers reciting the syllabus, introducing ourselves to the class, the usual mundane activities expected for the first day. However, all of that changed during 3th period. It was algebra, and normally I could care less. But it wasn’t the class that caught my attention, hell no. Class started as usual. The class was packed full of students, with nearly every seat taken. About 3 minutes into the class, class was interrupted by an opened door and a large figure.

He must’ve been 6’3”, making me who is 5’10" look like someone who hadn’t hit his growth spurt in comparison. His brunette hair, short and spiked with the sides shaved, helped to accentuate his angular face and his alluring emerald green eyes. He wore a football shirt that fit snugly against his chest and his bulky biceps bulged out of the sleeves. His thick thighs made his jeans a tight fit. They could definitely crush a watermelon. Perhaps even my face, I thought, as I admired the handsome man.

“Sorry I was late, bro. Just got out late from my meeting with Coach”, the stud said, in a nonchalant, baritone voice. He sounded like your stereotypical jock.

“Don’t make this a regular thing, ‘bro’” our teacher grumbled. “I know you’re the team captain, but it doesn’t mean you can just barge in while I’m teaching.”

“Relax, dude. It’s just a one time thing.” he responded. Looks like he’s the big man on campus. He sure didn’t seem to care that he was late on the first day of school.

The giant scanned the room looking for a place to sit. First the right end of the room, then the middle, and then he looked towards the left, where I sat, and conveniently at the empty desk adjacent to me. For a split second, our eyes were staring right at each other, but my gaze veered the other direction out of embarrassment. The jock’s lips curved into a slight smirk as he began to walk into the rows of desks, accidentally bumping me with his massive size 15 foot.

“Sorry bro”, he said as he placed himself in the seat next to me. His nice round ass stood out to me as he made himself comfortable.

The class continued on as normal, but for some reason, I felt like I could concentrate even less than I could before. The beefcake next to me kept my mind preoccupied. He was the most attractive guy I’ve seen so far at this school, and I couldn’t help but be distracted by his perfect body. His toned body glistened, likely from the sweat of a morning jog, and I noticed a slight scent that affirmed that. I normally found the smell of sweat to be a little disgusting, but for him, it seemed to mix well with his natural aroma. The scent of a man.

“No. If a guy like him finds out that you’re gay, you’ll never hear the end of it,” I scolded myself in my head. I could already imagine myself being harassed by him and his meathead friends.

Strangely enough, just as I had been looking at him, I also felt like I was being watched as well. I must have been imagining things. I wouldn’t call myself unattractive, but I never caught the attention of other guys…let alone girls.

The teacher finished up with the material sooner than expected, so he stopped teaching for the rest of class until the bell rang. With about 10 minutes to spare before my next class, I reached into my pocket to grab my phone to kill time, but then I heard that same voice from before.

“Sup bro,” the hunk next to me greeted me. “I’ve never seen you before. You new here?”

This guy was talking to me. Wait, why was he talking to me? I was incredibly caught off guard, but I decided to play it cool and hide my embarrassment.

“Yeah, my name’s Jacob. My parents just moved into town the other week and now I’m here.”

“Damn, that sucks, but I hope you like it here. Nice to meet you Jacob. I’m Zach. You mind if I call you Jake for short?”

Most people called me by Jacob and I preferred it like that, but for him, I didn’t really mind.

“Sure, nice to meet you too,” I responded. He reached out his hand to shake mine, but my hand felt small engulfed in his meaty palms.

We spent the remaining time in class getting to know each other. The more I talked with Zach, the more I realized how we were basically complete opposites. He was as I expected, a stereotypical jock, only interested in sports and going to the gym and I was anything but that. I could tell through his attitude that he was full of confidence, maybe even bordering on arrogance, but he still seemed rather agreeable. Despite our obvious differences, we actually got along surprisingly well. I expected him to be some brute, some bully, but he was actually a pretty fun, chill guy. He actually gave me his number too. The bell rang and we both packed up our supplies into our backpacks.

“Hey man, so where’s your next class?” Zach asked.

“Room 214. Must be on the second floor,” I replied.

“Oh cool. I’m actually headed that way too. Don’t worry, I know this school like the back of my hand!”

We walked up the stairs to the second floor and down the hallway.

“Hey, so lunch is coming up and I don’t know if you have anywhere to sit yet,” Zach inquired.

I had completely forgotten about lunch. At my old school, it wasn’t uncommon for me to sit by myself. I was the kind of guy who didn’t really mesh well with any crowd and I had few close friends.

“I don’t, why?” I responded.

“I just figured that because you’re new, you might want somewhere to sit. You can come sit with us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, the guys on the team are cool. I doubt they’d mind since you know me.” I imagined myself feeling out of place amongst the burly football jocks. Still, it was better than nothing.

“I might take you up on that offer,” I replied.

“Great, bro!” Zach smiled. His bright grin was contagious, and I felt a smile on my face as well. “I hope to see you there.” He patted me on the shoulder with his firm hands before we parted ways. Our classrooms, however, were conveniently right next to each other.

I felt like I could concentrate even less than I could during 3rd period. Thoughts of early US history blurred in my mind as the image of Zach lingered. Why was he being so nice to me of all people? Despite my curiosity, I started to think of him as a friend. For some reason, I felt myself drawn to him.

After an eternity, the bell rang for lunch, and I walked to the cafeteria. I got lost on the way there, as I was still unfamiliar with the layout of the building. As I walked past each table, I felt the impression that I was an outsider. Most tables were full of students, with few seats left open for me. It was like everyone else already knew each other, and that there was no place for me. Until I heard that voice again.

“Yo, Jake!” Zach shouted, his words breaking through the endless sea of mindless chatter. I turned my head to the right and saw him and several other members of the football team at a large table. How did I miss it? It’s a big table for big guys. “Did you get lost or something?”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Sorry about that, bro. Come sit down!” He moved over, giving me room to squeeze in. He introduced me to the team, and it seems like he already told them about me, so they were eager to meet me. I recognized one person from my previous class.

“You’re…Bradley right?” I asked.

“Yeah, but call me Brad. No one except my brother calls me that anymore.” he answered. He wasn’t as tall as Zach, standing at a respectable and exact 6 feet tall. He was, however, a lot bulkier than Zach, who was more toned in comparison, but he wasn’t fat. His hair was shaved into a short blonde buzzcut and he had deep blue eyes. I recalled him falling asleep for a bit during last class. The bro must not have gotten enough sleep last night.

Zach, Brad, and the other guys talked about sports and working out after class, and other stuff that a stereotypical jock would talk about. I did my best to include myself in the conversation, but I felt kinda lost keeping up and I felt like a bit of a poser compared to them. I knew only basic level sports knowledge and I had never lifted a weight in my life. If only I was more like them.

Despite that, I actually got along with them better than I expected, and I was glad to know that they were more like Zach than I had anticipated. They did make fun of me for not knowing certain players or who won the game last night. However, I didn’t get the impression that it was malicious, but rather more playful, like how one would joke around with his bros. Even though I clearly looked and felt out of place, I found myself enjoying their company and I tried to absorb whatever knowledge the jocks discussed like a sponge. What felt like an entire day of hanging with the bros was only half an hour as the bell rang and the crowd of students emptied the cafeteria to depart for their next class. I said my farewells to Zach’s friends and made my way to my next class. Zach, instead of staying with his fellow teammates, pursued me and joined me, walking at my side.

“Hey, thanks for sitting with us, bro. I told you they’d like you.”

“Of course…” I replied, unsure of what to say, but I smiled. “I did feel like a fish out of water, but I did have a good time.”

“No worries, bro. I kinda figured you would feel out of place, but you did great. Give it time and I’m sure you’ll fit right in.” Zach smirked. “You just gotta get out of your comfort zone, man.”

“I guess I never thought of it like that,” I was surprised at Zach’s different perspective. “Maybe I could be as strong as the rest of you are and throw balls around someday,” I joked, as the idea of me being like one of them felt unrealistic to me.

Zach chuckled and gave me a wink. “Who knows? Life is full of surprises. Anyways, my class is this way, but I think we have the same class next period. Later, bro!”

The rest of the day went by quick, and was relatively uneventful. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, school was over, and I could finally go home. I thrusted myself into my bed, overwhelmed by my first day of school., but for once, I was actually kinda happy to be there. I met Zach, Brad, and a bunch of other guys on my very first day. Zach specifically lingered in my mind, and I recollected every inch of his body in my mind. I started to get hard picturing every exquisite detail, and I couldn’t help but bust my load to him. Eventually day turned to evening and evening turned to night, and I closed my eyes, wondering what the rest of the year had in store for me.

The next two weeks came and went and I became accustomed to the new school and my new friends. I went to class, ate with the football team at lunch, and I even started to hang out with Zach more. He offered to help me with the gym if I helped him with some of his schoolwork. I agreed obviously, as I wouldn’t mind building some muscle. It was always good to help a bro out and also I just wanted to be closer to him. As I helped him with math and science, he helped me with lifting weights and exercises. I struggled at first, but eventually I started to notice some improvements and I could tell he was proud.

Whenever we finished studying or working out, we spent the rest of the night watching sports or playing video games. Zach had to explain the rules to me, but I started to understand football on a surface level. Other than that, I got invited to a party at Brad’s place, and I had a great time partying and drinking with Zach and the football team. During those weeks, I was probably the happiest and most social I have ever been in my life.

The following week was when everything changed. One day before lunch, I was approached by someone who I have never seen before. He wasn’t very tall, standing at a modest 5’8”. He looked babyfaced with his nerdy, boyish looks and blonde hair, and his glasses helped to emphasize his meek blue eyes. I think he was a year below me.

“My name is Braden.” He said. “You’re the new kid who’s friends with Zach, right?”

“Yeah I am. My name’s Jake…I mean Jacob.” I responded. For a second, I found myself using the name Zach and the other jocks called me.

“I think you should stay away from him. He’s bad news.”

“What’s wrong with Zach?” I asked. Zach had been nothing but good to me since we met. I couldn’t imagine him having any malicious intent. He even took care of me at the party when I was black-out drunk for the first time.

“Ever since my brother started hanging out with him, he started acting… weird. He was never into football or anything, but now he’s on the team and he looks and acts like a completely different person.”

“I…What are you talking about?” I was seriously confused about what he meant.

“I’m serious! Unless you want to end up like just another jock…”

“Hey, Jake! How’s it going?” Zach cut in, seemingly oblivious to the fact that we were talking about him. “And you’re Brad’s brother, right?” Braden avoided eye contact with his brother’s friend.

I felt a sense of urgency, as I felt like I was going to be late. “I’ve gotta get to lunch. It was nice meeting you, Braden!” I said as me and Zach walked to lunch together. What the hell was his deal anyways?

“Braden’s a weird dude. Don’t worry about what he says,” Zach informed me, trying to ease the mood.

Later that week, I was hanging out at Zach’s place again after a workout, helping him with the algebra quiz that was next class. I helped him understand the concepts better and we wrapped up reviewing the study guide, so we finished and we laid down on his bed.

“Hey man, I’ve been thinking…” Zach started, but he sounded rather hesitant, unlike his usual confident self. “What would you think about joining the football team?”

“I…” I was honestly kinda surprised. Why would he want me, of all people, to join? I wasn’t unathletic, but even working out with him would not have prepared me to play football. “I’m flattered you would want me, but I don’t think I have what it takes. Plus, I’m not like you guys at all,” I answered.

“That’s fine, bro. Me and Coach can help condition you to become the jock I know you want to be.”

“Condition?” I was confused, unsure about what he meant by that.

“I know how much you want to be like us, bro,” For some reason, the word bro sent shivers down my spine. He had a devious look on his face. “And I can see your potential. That’s why I chose you. It helped that you’re the new kid anyways so no one will notice if you turned into another jock. I made that mistake with Brad and now that kid Braden won’t leave me alone.”

Zach paused, realizing that he said too much, but at this point, there was no going back. Despite his malicious intent, I got hard at the thought of being one of them, of being one with the team. My friends were always there for me the past few weeks and we had a strong bond despite our differences. I looked up to them, and wished I was more like them.

“That’s not the only reason I chose you…” Zach rolled over, climbing on top of me, his heavy, muscular body pinning me down, his legs straddled between mine, his sweat from the workout from earlier spreading through my nostrils. “I knew you were gay. I could just tell. But that’s okay, because so am I. You’re cute enough as you are now, but I think you would look better standing side-by-side with me, looking, thinking, and acting like me. Don’t you agree?”

I was overwhelmed by the situation, and by Zach’s sudden change in behavior. But I subconsciously nodded as my cock throbbed in my pants. Whether my mind or my dick was thinking first, I could not tell you.

“If you join the team, I’ll be yours, and you’ll be mine. How does that sound, bro?”

I tried to weigh my options. I thought about the kind of person I was. Who was I before I came here? Before I met Zach? I…I was nobody. I didn’t have any friends here. Zach took me in. My mind was fixated on the man in front of me. I realized I longed for him. I longed for the team and my bros. I longed for football. I longed for working out. And that’s when everything became clear. I longed to become a jock like him.

“That sounds awesome, bro,” I answered. Bro? I never said bro before. I guess Zach was really starting to rub off on me. I gave into temptation, but I knew that it was what I secretly desired ever since I met him.

“That’s a good bro…” Zach responded, obviously pleased with my answer. A seductive smirk lit up his face as he pressed his lips to mine. We enjoyed that moment for what felt like several lifetimes, but in reality it was actually only a few minutes of sweet passion. At this point, I felt like my cock was about to burst. At this point, I desired him. Zach noticed the raging bulge in my pants. “I know you wanna fuck, but I can’t give you what you want just yet. You will meet me in Coach’s office after class tomorrow. After we finish your transformation, then you can cum.”

“Yes, bro…” I muttered, keeping my erection under control. The rest of the evening was surprisingly normal between us, almost like the erotic scene that had just taken place was something out of a fever dream or a hallucination. We played some video games to kill time and to lighten the mood. The only reason I knew it was real was because of the firm erection that lingered in my pants. Eventually I said goodbye to Zach and went home.

“Remember to meet me after school. And just remember, you can still back out if you want…but I have a feeling you won’t,” Zach sneered, looking down at my pulsating serpent. Despite his words, however, I knew that my mind had already crossed the point of no return.

The next day was unbearable. The anticipation of what awaited me after this long day was killing me. What made it worse were the classes where I had Zach. He could tell that I was finding it hard to focus, and it felt like he was edging me with his mind. I could barely concentrate on the algebra quiz we studied for the night prior. I could only think about joining the football team and I imagined what it would be like to be a jock. I’d be big and strong, sexy, athletic. I would fit right in with all my bros. Working out together, practicing together, winning and celebrating together.

During lunch, Zach announced that I would be joining the team, and the group of football jocks cheered and welcomed me to the team. One of them said it was only a matter of time until I decided to join, and I couldn’t really deny it. I looked at each member of the team, and I wondered how I would look compared to them. For a second, I remembered Braden’s words, but I quickly shrugged them off. He made it seem like my transformation would be a bad thing, but a nerd like him could never understand. This is what I desired. This was what I was destined for. And I kept those words in my head, as the clock turned to the end of the school day.

As soon as the final bell rang, I immediately rushed over to the locker room. I saw Zach in his white and red football uniform, missing only his helmet, and, having never seen him in this outfit before, I thought he looked perfect in it. And soon, so would I.

“You’re here early, bro,” he said. “You’re even more eager than I expected. Coach isn’t here yet, but I can explain the details to you.”

He led me towards the back, where he pulled out several pieces of clothing that would become synonymous with my new identity. A jersey already stitched with my name on it, tight compression pants and a compression shirt, football cleats, shoulder pads, a jockstrap, and a sturdy helmet that would adorn my head like a king would wear his crown.

“Put it on.”

I complied. I was a little disappointed at first, as the clothing looked at least a size above what I would normally wear. “No worries, you’ll grow into them quick, trust me.”

As I put on my new uniform, I started to become curious. What was this all about? So I asked him, “What’s the point of all of this anyways?”

“I guess there’s no reason to hide it anymore,” he responded. “To be honest, I was kinda like you once. I wasn’t really athletic like I am now, but my dad was actually a professional football player. He was forced to retire early due to a bad injury, but despite that, I wanted to do what he couldn’t. But no matter how hard I tried, I could never be the player I wanted to be. That all changed when Coach learned of my struggles and we worked together to make me into the football jock I had always dreamed of. Eventually, after about a year of testing, we found a way and that’s how I became who I am now. For once, I was strong, athletic, and confident, and it never felt forced or fake. Like this was who I really was all my life. Since then, similar studies were done at different high schools and colleges across the US. You wouldn’t know about any of that, because it’s all behind closed doors. Eventually, I found you and I realized that you were probably just as lost as I was, so I kinda took advantage of that. Sorry, I guess I’m not the kind of guy you thought I was.”

I had no idea that’s how Zach truly felt. I sympathized with him despite him hiding so much from me. We came from different backgrounds, but we both wanted the same thing. To be better, and to be stronger. Even after he poured his heart out to me and told me the truth, he was still Zach to me. I cared for him and he cared for me. He opened my eyes to a new world full of different possibilities. And so, I pushed my lips into his and our tongues wrestled for dominance. We were stopped by footsteps approaching. We returned to normal as Coach walked into the room, oblivious to the fact that we were making out seconds prior outside of our rosy cheeks.

“So you’re the kid Zach’s been talking about. I’m Coach Myers.” the man said. “I’m guessing he told you everything. Do you have any questions before we get started?”

“No sir,” I answered.

“In that case, let’s go into my office.” I obliged eagerly. There’s no going back. “Have a seat, sign these forms, and put these on.” They were earbuds. I signed my name on every form, formally granting my consent to join the team, and likely whatever changes would occur to me. In front of me was an old TV with a VCR. “You will watch and listen to this video for the full duration. You will notice some changes and you might feel a little uncomfortable. All you have to do is relax and focus on the video.” I did as he said. I sat down in my new football uniform, and I put the earbuds in both ears, and then finally put my helmet onto my head. With everything prepared, Zach turned off the lights, and the TV turned on, playing a video.

With the helmet over my head, my peripheral vision was restricted. I had little choice but to look at what was directly in front of me. My eyes became fixated on the screen in front of me as they became entranced by the flowing spiral. As I fell deeper into a trance, I felt as though my mind and body were on the opposite ends of the world. The audio was hard to make out, but somehow I felt like I understood it, at least subconsciously.

After a period of time that my mind couldn’t possibly comprehend, the imagery began to change. I started to make out clips of football players, playing football, being part of a team, throwing and catching the ball, tackling my opponents, strategies and plays. I learned the proper workouts and techniques and exercises that a football player would do. What at one time felt foreign to me felt like common knowledge, like I had done this my entire life. It was muscle memory, no pun intended.

It was at this moment that my body started to change. No. Change isn’t the right word. Evolve. I noticed my average-sized arms start to bulge, my biceps and triceps inflating like they were being pumped. Next, my shoulders expanded and became more sturdy, making my shoulder pads fit a little better. Then, my chest pumped out, my pecs eager to fill the empty space in my oversized jersey along with my new six-pack. Following that, my legs thickened until they felt tight in my compression pants, and my ass inflated like a balloon into a nice, round bubble butt. Below that, my feet grew longer and more wide, filling the size 15 shoes that my formerly size 11 feet would have had trouble walking around in. My penis, still erect, grew from an average 5 inches to an impressive 8 inches, feeling more and more aroused by the increasing stimulation and the surplus of testosterone flowing through my body. Finally, I felt my blonde medium length hair thin and become more like my teammates with shaved sides and a short top. Any chubbiness in my face disappeared as my facial features sharpened, especially my jawline and my chin, giving myself a more masculine look.

While all of this was happening, my mind was swirling and every part of me was being drained or replaced. I found that I was losing interest in most of my old hobbies, but the idea of playing and watching sports, working out, partying, having sex, and hanging out with the bros felt so much more enticing and appealing than it did before. I started to realize that I didn’t really care much about school or learning anymore, and that playing sports was the only real reason why I came to school. I was never the best student, but I always did my best. However, I realized that none of that mattered as long as I kept good enough grades to stay on the team. C’s get degrees, am I right? At worst, I could always bribe one of the smarter kids to do my homework for me.

Then, my mindset began to change. Before, I was introverted, polite, and humble. But now? I was outgoing, confident, and cocky, and I started to love the idea of that. It started to become unbelievable that I was ever not like this. I was always like this. As the changes in my mind were taking effect, I felt part of me overwhelmed by all the changes and trying to resist, but that stray thought was snuffed out like a candle, as the rest of my thoughts were drained from my mind. Any part of my former self’s mind was absorbed into my balls, which were swollen to the size of grapefruit at this point. As the changes in my body and mind reached its climax, so did my aching cock. As the video concluded, the words became more clear, and I could make out one phrase repeating over and over.

“You are a jock.”

It was at this point that I could finally release all my pent-up frustration from the past 24 hours. It was the best orgasm of my life. And just like that, load after load of my burning, sticky cum flooded my jockstrap, and with it, the memories of the old me were released from my body.

“Looks like someone made a mess,” Zach teased. “No worries, bro. It happens. How do you feel?” he asked as he put his arm around my shoulder. This time it felt different though, because I truly felt like one of the bros.

Jacob was gone. Jake took his place. I’m Jake, Jake the jock. My memories felt distorted but they were starting to become clear. I grew up always with a ball in my hand. I was naturally talented in any sport I played, but I gravitated towards football. I played it at my old school and I was among the best on the team. However, my dad got a new job and we were forced to move here. Thankfully, we were fortunate to live near a school with a gifted football program. I became friends with Zach and the football team, and naturally, I signed up for the team. And Zach? He was not just my bro or my best friend. He eventually became my boyfriend and the rest of the team supported our relationship. All of this felt so real to me, and a cocky smirk appeared on my unfamiliar face.

“Bro…I feel awesome,” I responded, my new, deeper voice matching both my new physique and personality. I looked down at my new body. It was like I hit puberty for the second time. I stood up, realizing that I was now several inches taller, now standing at a solid 6’2”. I was almost as tall as Zach, and I didn’t have to look up at him now. I felt like we were finally equals in terms of body and status.

“I told you you’d look amazing, bro,” he said as he gave me a peck on the cheek. “You should clean yourself up and get ready for practice. The other guys will never let it go if you come to your first practice with cum staining your uniform. Oh, and thanks Coach. Glad you could help both of us out.”

“Always glad to help out my star player,” Coach chuckled. “As for you, I think you turned out better than any of them yet. You might even give Zach a run for his money.” I felt a sense of pride being compared to him.

I quickly left Coach’s office and cleaned myself off. I changed into clothes that Zach lent me that would fit my new body better, and ran off to practice. Before that though, I stared at myself in the mirror so I could get my first glimpse of the new me. The person in front of me was completely unrecognizable to me, but I quickly grew comfortable with the jock in the mirror and I smiled at the person I had become. I pulled out my phone and took a picture of the flexing hunk that stood before me.

Time passed and my new life became more and more normal to me. I would go to school, hang out with the football team, go to practice, work out, and then hang out with Zach. It became a natural routine to me, and I was never happier. My grades dropped a bit because I was focused on football. It’s not that I can’t care about learning. I just don’t want to. Coach says it’s alright as long as I pass my classes.

For the first time, I felt a true sense of camaraderie with a group of guys, and especially Zach. It felt like we were joined at the hip. We were a pair both on the field and off it. We’re currently undefeated this year and I think we might even reach regionals.

Most of my classmates and peers barely noticed my changes since I was already new and to them, I blended in as yet another stereotypical football jock. The only people with an immediate reaction were my parents. They were a little surprised by my sudden changes, but they were supportive of my new passion for football and they were glad to see me making friends and staying active. I did remember one person who definitely would mind my changes.

Braden.

A week or so after my transformation, he walked up to me, obviously disappointed, with a look of shame on his face, and told me that I should’ve listened to him. I brushed aside his comments. He called me a dumb jock. I told him I was happier this way, but he refused to believe me. He wouldn’t accept it. He said that he was going to expose the football team somehow, and change everyone who was affected back, including me and Brad. He stormed off, hoping to find some way to expose us.

I didn’t show it on my face, but in my mind I was furious. I genuinely didn’t want to turn back and I didn’t want the football team to be suspended or shut down. I thought about Zach, about his dreams, and about mine. I wanted nothing more than for the two of us to live out our dreams together of being the best football jocks ever. I couldn’t let Braden figure out the truth. I have to stop him. I started to brainstorm ideas on how to keep him quiet.

A devious idea entered my mind. He wouldn’t want to snitch on us if we turned him into a jock first. He was obviously a little envious of me, of Zach, even his big brother. I’m sure he would grow to appreciate the idea if he just accepted it. Besides, I’m sure he would make a sexy football jock with his looks already. The idea of turning someone into a jock, corrupting them, awakening their true desires became so appealing to me, just like Zach had did for me. He’ll understand one day.

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awfcspencer · 3 months

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Where Do We Go Now? || alexia putellas x reader

alexia putellas x reader

Part 1

prompt: Friends with benefits situation ended in flames. Will they make their way back to each other?

warnings: angst, smut, begging, oral, fingering, top!Alexia with bottom!reader

It was roughly a quarter after midnight and you were up thinking about Alexia. I mean, who else would you be up late at night thinking about? She invaded all of your thoughts. She had left such an impact on your life in the short time you knew the girl. It almost scared you how much you had fallen for the girl when you didn’t even realize it. Now wanting so desperately to go back and confess your love, but surely she didn’t love you back. Right?

Staring at the ceiling as if something might change. You can hear the wind howling outside through your open window. As it seemed sleep was not in your foreseeable future, your thumb hovered over the green call button. But you couldn’t get yourself to click it. She had found someone else. Someone who wasn’t you.

Nothing happened in the way you wanted. It was as if you wished you could take everything back. Go back and not leave the bar the night when you first met Alexia. It was all a bad idea to begin with.

Everything became blurred so quickly. One minute Alexia was guiding your body towards a release, and the next you were in your bed, alone. Alone and craving her.

It was more than sex though, you missed her soft but dominant nature, her voice, her witty personality, everything about her was lovable. But isn’t that what got you in this situation in the first place? Love.

The worst of all of it, other than the obvious, was that no one knew what you and Alexia had. No idea of why it hurt so much and what you lost. So when you threw yourself straight into your work and ignored your friends on any occasion they invited you out, you were even more alone.

Alone with nothing to do but reminisce. You had lost Alexia, right when you had realized you loved the midfielder. But did you even have Alexia to lose her to begin with? It was all a jumbled mess. Alexia was probably off with her new girl. But you can’t even seem to get over the girl who you hadn’t even dated.

For Alexia, the coffee shop barista was nice and charming, but she wasn’t you. She longed for the nights you spent in her tight grasp and the random conversations that you two dove into post-sex. She especially missed your body and the euphoric noises that left your mouth. She needed you emotionally and physically.

She wanted to call you but for some reason the way you abruptly left her home that night she told you that she was talking to someone confused her, to say the least. It was almost as if maybe you wanted to say something more, something to her.

But you left so quickly that she couldn’t even get a word out. She wanted to ask you how you felt about it, and if for some possible reason, maybe you didn’t want her talking to someone else. Maybe, just maybe, confessing feelings for the Spaniard. But surely you wouldn’t, it was just a friends-with-benefits situation for you. You hadn’t fallen for Alexia like she fell for you. Right?

_______

After much convincing, you were headed out to the bar with your friends. The dreaded bar in which you had met Alexia in, the bar you thought you would never step in again. Desperately praying and hoping she wouldn’t be there. The last thing you needed was to see Alexia when you still were not clearly over her. Simply just wanting to dance the night away.

Alexia tried sleeping with other people. But nobody felt like you, nobody touched her like you did. She tried to forget about the ache in her heart when she thought of you. She remembers the night she met you at the bar. She needed a night out, but more than that, she needed you. She would return to the bar tonight hoping you might be there.

The bar was loud, people fluttering in in large groups, looking for some fun. You were looking for a release. Maybe you would try to take someone home, someone to forget about someone else. The drinks were flowing, a wave of confidence and warmth entered your body. Friends pulled you over to the dance floor.

Alexia entered the bar with one mission on her mind, try and find you. It was a reckless attempt, what were the odds you would actually be here tonight, but Alexia had to try. It was her last chance.

Maybe it was fate? Maybe it was luck? But out of the corner of her eye, she saw you. Swinging your hips along to the beat of the music, talking to a woman who wasn’t her. The woman had her hands on your lower back as you grinded back into her. The realization hit Alexia like a million bricks. Yes, you were at the bar, but she hadn’t come soon enough, you had found someone else.

Overwhelming emotions hit Alexia, she was too late. She can feel the tears brimming in her eyes as she walked to the bathroom. She didn’t want you to see her. She would freshen up and leave. Leave you to be with a woman who wasn’t her, it broke her heart.

Dancing to the beat of the music, you found yourself gravitating towards a stunning brunette who was locking eyes with you. She swung your body around, pushing you into her chest. The music was just right, the alcohol streaming through your body was just right, everything was just right. Except one thing. The one thing you couldn’t seem to let go of. She was not the brunette you wanted. She was not Alexia.

You can feel yourself getting worked up. The emotions you kept trying to put on the back burner coming out front and center. You quickly pull away from the girl and make your way to the bathroom to collect yourself. Pushing the door open you run into a figure.

”Oh I am so sorry!” you immediately tell the girl.

Looking up to see just who you ran into, you are met with her eyes.

“Alexia” you chocked out. You feel as if the wind was knocked out of you, unable to breathe properly.

You could tell she had been crying. Your heart broke.

She can tell you were crying. Her heart ached.

“Are you okay?” is all she asked. She took her thumb and stopped the tear from falling farther down your cheek.

The bathroom was silent. There was no set in stone rules for when you run into someone of Alexia’s nature, yet alone in the same bar where you had met her. So many questions ran through your mind but never left your lips.

“Why are you here?” finally leaving your lips. Alexia was supposed to be talking to someone. She chose her and not you. So the reason she cornered you in the bar bathroom confused you immensely.

“I want you.” Alexia’s hand lingered on your face, thumb now brushing back and forth on your right cheek. You wanted to shout out that you wanted her to, but Alexia chose her path.

“I thought you were talking to someone.” Taken aback by her words, a mixture of anger and confusion.

“It’s over. She’s not you. What about the girl you were dancing with” She asked you.

"She's not you."

You're not really sure who leaned in first but suddenly your lips were on hers. She gently pushes you back towards the sink as her tongue enters your mouth. She easily lifts you up slightly so your ass is on the sink. She’s attacking your lips as she is standing between your legs. You’ve missed her, bad. Your hands have found home in her hair, treading your fingers through her scalp earning small soft moans from Alexia.

You moan into her mouth as she pushes her hips into your core. Whispering between breathes, “Lock the door Alexia.”

She swiftly turns and bolts the door shut, returning her lips to yours in no time.

Still in the searing kiss, her large hands have found your chest and pulled on your top hinting for you to remove it. You remove your top and bra all together, eager for Alexia to touch you, eager to make up for lost time.

Her tongue swirls around each of your nipples, it was euphoric. She then licks a long hot line down the valley of your chest, kneading your breasts with each of her hands until each of your nipples are perked and red. She treads her thumbs over the now raw skin.

Her long fingers hover over your pants on your hips, keeping you stationed in place. She makes quick work and discards your pants all in one quick swift. Grinning into another kiss as she notices the small circle of wetness on your underwear. She knew what she was doing to you. She knew you missed her just as much as she missed you.

Rubbing soft circles on your clit through your underwear as she went back and forth kissing your thighs. It was just not enough, you needed more, you needed her inside you now. Your hips bucked upwards to find some sort of friction, some sort of pleasure but Alexia forced your hips back in place. Your head was spinning, endorphins running through your brain.

“Ale please.”

She removes your underwear slowly and spreads you wide on the sink with her hands on your thighs. You were on full display for her. Your cunt pulsed waiting as Alexia took her time, taking a mental image of you. Desperate and needy but all for her.

On her knees, she is immediately attacking your clit, circling your sensitive bud with her pointer finger. Running her long tongue up and down your slit before she is inside you, pushing her tongue back and forth. The moans leaving your mouth spurred her on. She had missed your pussy, her pussy. You tasted amazing to her. All you could do was simply just throw your head back in pleasure.

With her tongue working your body up, she places her two middle fingers in your warm mouth. Wetting them with a string of spit that leaves your mouth when she pulls them out and into your needy cunt.

“God” you begin to yell out as Alexia pulls you in for another kiss. She picks up her pace and pounds her fingers into you, using a forward upward motion to hit every inch of you. She uses her other hand to hold down your left hip as you buck unwillingly.

Whether it was how needy you had been the past few days or the way Alexia was working your body, you were dangerously close. Alexia knew your body like the back of her hand, knowing which part of your neck was sensitive or how you liked clit stimulation while she fingered you senseless.

“Ale I’m going to cum.” you breathed out. Your legs ached in the wide position they were currently in and your core muscles were pulsating waiting for Alexia’s permission to orgasm. Your hands now were stationed above your head on the cold bathroom wall behind you with Alexia's strong grip on your wrists.

She could feel you tightening on her fingers, she knew you were teetering on the line of release. She quickens her pace and uses her thumb rubbing side to side on your clit for additional pleasure.

The words “Let go baby.” left Alexia’s mouth as your body huddles over in pleasure. Alexia holds you tight as your legs spasm and your body shudders as you orgasm.

She slows her pace on her fingers inside you as she pulls you in for another kiss, but this one is soft. It was slow as your lips rhythmically moved together. It was the warm lips you had missed on those lonely nights. Pulling on her wrist that was connected to the fingers inside you, you lick her fingers clean with dead eye contact with Alexia. Her eyes were dark, pupils dilated as she watched you.

Another wave of silence feel over the bathroom, collecting your clothes and putting them back on. Almost like it was routine.

Breaking the silence, Alexia said “Come home with me.” You knew what it meant and so did she.

You knew there was a conversation to be had. But right now it could wait. You interlaced your hands with Alexia’s as you bid your friends goodbye and went home with Alexia.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #woso one shot #woso soccer #woso blurbs #womens soccer #woso couples #woso smut #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas x y/n #alexia x reader #alexia putellas #barca femeni #barcelona femeni

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angelltheninth · 10 months

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Senses Working Overtime

Pairing: Male!Werewolf (Alrik) x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, suggestive, meet scary, size difference, possessiveness, scenting, growling, hunting, jealousy, grinding

Word count: 1.3k

Ao3

A/N: Back again with new werewolf content!

You ran through the woods, as fast as your legs are able to carry you, sure you were being chased, hunted by someone, or maybe something. Something fast and big and wild if those growls were anything to go by. You weren’t sure what was happening, one moment you were on your way to the hut you rented for your vacation, having a great time and the next you were startled by growls coming from seemingly every direction around you. A tree, if you could get on top of one surely you would be safe.

Whatever was chasing you seemed amused by it, almost as if playing with you, slowing down when you did and then speeding up as soon as you yourself started to. It was diabolical.

You hid behind a tree, waiting, listening, hoping that whatever it is passes you by. What you heard next made your heart drop. Two feet, the sounds of two feet. It... it wasn’t an animal chasing you, it was a human. But how could that be? A human doesn’t growl like that, a human...

“Hiding? And we were having such a good chase.” The voice sounded deep and masculine, a playful edge to it as you heard the person sniff the air, “Why run? I’m trying to-” You ran again when he approached the tree, “Hey! Hold up! Stop!”

He called after you but you kept running and running until you slipped up on the rocks of the clearing.

The man came into view, his eyes shining gold under the moonlight, his tanktop tight on his slightly tan skin, his jeans ripped and.. no shoes whatsoever. “Caught you.” He smiled, showing off his sharp fangs. “You can’t fool a werewolf’s nose miss.” As he approached you noticed he had something in his hand, your jacket, the one you were wearing at the bar. That must be how he followed you.

“W-What do you want? I can kick your as you know!” You yelled as you clenched your fists into the grovel.

“Mine?” He tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy, his brown fur taking over his body, gaining even more height as he shifted. “You sure gave me a good run. I just want,” He walked closer and closer, you had no where to go. But you will not go down without a fight. “to return this.” He offered you your jacket, careful not to tear it with his claws.

“Huh?!” You look at him like he grew a second head, as if that would be weird, then at your jacket, “That’s why you chased me?!” You grabbed the jacket and threw it over your cold shoulders, “You could have just been a normal guy and gave it back to me.”

His large shoulders slumped back, fluffy ears pinning down at being scolded, his tail slacking behind him, “I tried. But you ran off, my... instincts took over, I like... a good chase and you...” A shiver ran down your spine as his wet snout pressed against your neck, “You smell so good. Even after all that smoke from the bar I can still smell your natural scent.”

You took a couple of steps back, keeping a close eye on him, his fangs, his now relaxed body and wrapped your arms around yourself. He didn’t look as scary anymore but he did still scare you half to death. You were not letting this go so easily.

“You should really learn a thing or two about personal space.” When you walked past him he whined like a wounded dog, following next to you, twiddling his thumbs, looking a bit cute but keeping a good distance. If he could smell you he must have known he made you uncomfortable with being so close.

“Um... I’m Alrik by the way. And I promise I’m not actually dangerous. I know I look like the big bad wolf, and I know I scared you but can I walk you part way home? I won’t follow I promise, there are laws in my pack and I’m not in a rut right now so you have nothing to worry about safety wise.” So if he was in a rut... no, nope, there was no way you were thinking about this werewolf you just met in such a way.

He chased you through the damn woods for gods sake!

“Look, right now I just want to get back to the hu-” As your luck would have it you weren’t looking where you were going, wrongly distracted by Alrik’s muscles.

“Careful!” He tried to catch you but as his arm wrapped around your hip, really around your entire stomach you fell on all fours, Alrik looming over you, nose right at the side of your neck, “Um... sorry...” His voice rumbled in your ear, sending shivers down your whole body. “You smell even sweeter now. I need to... tell you something else. I was at the bar too. I watched you dance with the human males and I...” The snarl pierced you right down to between your legs, “I wanted you to dance with me but I didn’t know how to ask you. So when you forgot your jacket I thought I could talk to you and maybe ask you out. Yet all I did was scare you. And now...” He pressed closer, his soft fur and hard muscles against your back, eyes closing as his other hand finding yours on the ground.

On instinct you rolled your hips back, feeling him against you.

Alrik jumped back suddenly, eyes wide and jaw wide open, eyes wide and startled, “Oh fuck! I... I’m so sorry! I don’t even know you!”

Your body relaxed now that it was free but you also found yourself missing the warmth of him. Oh great, now you were the weird one. “It’s okay, I just tripped.”

“No, I scented you. I’m not supposed to do that. We only scent our mates, or at the very least potential mates. Your scent seemed to call to me so I responded without thinking. Not that it’s an excuse!” He looked genuinely apologetic, his fur standing on ends, ears pressed against his skull in shame.

You sighed, crossing your arms, thankful for the cool night air which hid the blush on your cheeks, “You’re fine. I’m not angry about that. The other things? Scaring me? Yes, but not for you trying to keep me from falling.”

Alrik’s tail wags from side to side a few times, his grin looking both cute and scary, an interesting combo to be sure. He relaxed and took a step closer, “So, can I make you forgive me fully.”

You hated the way your eyes dropped to the not so subtle bulge in his pants for a split second, “You can buy me lunch tomorrow. I’ve only been in town for a few days and I don’t know where the good places are yet.”

“Oh! So you are knew! I knew it, I would have remembered a cute face like yours.” His werewolf form shifted back, his human smile equally as charming as he ran his hand through his shortly chopped brown hair, “There’s a great place in the center of town, my friend works there and I’m sure I can get us a good table.”

He kept his distance to the side of you as you started walking in the direction of your rented hut. He didn’t follow you all the way back just as he said and boy was the goodbye handshake awkward as hell.

But it wasn’t as awkward or frustrating as the realization that you were on the bed and hadn’t packed any toys. You would have to make due with your fingers, knowing full well that they paled in comparison to Alrik’s real size.

#werewolf x reader #werewolf x human #werewolf x female reader #monster x reader #monster x human #monster love #monster fluff #monster x fem!reader #terato #monster imagine #monster fic #monster fanfic #werewolf imagine #werewolf fic #werewolf fanfiction #monster boyfriend #monster romance

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atxxokirina · 9 months

Text

Unspoken Words PT. 2 — (18+ MDNI)

Neteyam x Mute fem Metkayina reader

part one here

contains: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT, dom Neteyam, p in v, degrading, tummy buldge, oral (f receiving), creampie, very slight aftercare

author's note! (italic is used to symbolize when you, Neteyam, or anyone else are using sign language)

Your eyes flutter open, the bright sun shining through your Marui waking you. You look your your right, seeing Neteyam's body sprawled out on the cot, your head rested on his arm as it was wrapped around you. Carefully, you lift his arm over you, placing it back down softly to ensure that he stays sleeping. You stood up and stretched your limbs, quietly yawning as you keep your eye on Neteyam laying on his back, mouth wide open as he snores.

Since it's early, you figure you might as well get something to eat while you still can. Grabbing your gear, you throw it around your shoulder and give your mate a tiny kiss on the cheek before leaving. "See you soon, my love."

You make your way to the water, stepping in knee deep as you scope out for fish, readying your catching net just in case. As you continued to carefully examine the clear water, your eye catches something. A fully blue fish with with multicolored fins, floral flushed orange and yellow. You throw out the net, scooping it up and holding it to your face as you studied it's properties.

It was an interesting shape to say the least, large pincher's at it's mouth, while it kept an oval-like shape. Sloapek. You don't see these around too often, but you're happy to have caught it for you and your mate.

As you were traveling back to the common square, you hear a faint calling of your name. "Y/n!" Your ears twitch back, looking around, but you still didn't see anyone. That was, until you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around in an instant, you're met with Tsireya who's beaming at you."Tsireya, hello! It's nice to see you." You sign, smiling wide as your tail stills in content.

"It is nice to see you too, y/n! You are never out this early, is everything alright?" She asks, concern written all over her face. You nod. "I am fine. I just wanted to get something for Neteyam and I, see?" You hold up the net and her face drops in awe. "Sloapek!? Oh, I'm so jealous! I never see them anymore!" You held back a giggle as she spoke, nodding with a pleased look on your face. "You must have worked hard for this, I'm proud of you!" You awkwardly smile, knowing that it took you less then 2 minutes. "I should get back to Neteyam. He's might be missing me right about now."

"Oh, mhm! See you later, y/n!" You wave before going back to your Marui. As you approach the entrance, you get a glimpse of Lo'ak inside, he's sitting on your cot while Neteyam stands. As you were about to step in, you hear one of them speak.

"So, does she really not talk?" Lo'ak asked Neteyam.

"I mean, no. Not really.. She speaks with her hands."

"Shit, man. That's so weird.. how do you guys fuck?" You winced at his words, feeling shameful for yourself. "I don't know how you do it bro." He chucked.

"Don't say that." Neteyam defends. "..and we don't fuck, honestly. I don't know how to tell her and, plus, I don't wanna hurt her." He playfully scoffed, folding his arms. In all honesty, you wanted to expirience such things with him, but you never had the courage to ask. Your relationship consisted of pristine love, and though you have been together for a few months, neither of you made a move.

Not wanting to hear any more, you finally walk in. Greeting Lo'ak with a small head bow as you set down your net. Giving your mate with a short, but passionite kiss. "Y/n, hey baby." He pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arm around your waist. "Hey y/n." Lo'ak mumbled. "I'm gonna get going but, it was nice to see you- y/n. And, talk to you later bro." Before leaving, he pulls his brother into a breif handshake. "Tell her." He whispers in Neteyam's ear, gone right after.

Neteyam's body flushes with anxiousness, rubbing his hands together. You took the rest of your gear off, wrapping your coiled curls into a low ponytail and bending down to reach for the fish that sat in the net. "Wait, before you do that-" Neteyam starts. You freeze in your position, turning your head to look at him and holding your palm out. "What is it?" His mouth opens and closes before speaking. "Y/n, are you.. a virgin? Like, have you ever had sex before?" A lump formed in your throat as you gulp. You weren't quite sure what to say, you didn't really want to answer him. "No." You avoid eye contact, looking down as you go back to your standing position. "I have not."

Neteyam seemed taken aback by your response, his lips quivered for a moment. "Do you, want to?" He blurts out

You instantly shot him a look, the breath you had being sweeper from your lungs. A part of you wanted to. So badly.. but the other part was petrified of how it might turn out. Would it hurt you? Would you hurt him? What if you do something wrong? He holds your chin with his two fingers, turning your head to him as he stares down at you.

"I'll make it easy for you.. we can even go slow, how about that?" His melodic tone filled your ears, practically making you melt before him. You blink a few times, feeling like your heart was going to shoot out of your chest. He was patient with your response, letting you take your time before making this important decision. Hesitantly, you nod. He smiles and kisses your forehead. "Great," he starts. "You'll feel so good, I promise, okay?" Neteyam kisses you again. "Okay" Even though it was sign, he could tell that you were still scared. He reassures you by pulling you into a hug, you buried your head in his chest.

The scent he gave off never failed to chill your nerves. "I love you, y/n. I would never do anything to hurt you, okay?" He softly pulls back by your shoulders, facing down. You held a hand up, closing your middle finger, but keeping your pink, index, and thumb up. "I love you too."

"I have to get to my training session, but I will be back at eclipse." He ruffles your hair, earning a warm smile from you as he rushed out of the Marui.

Several hours have passed. It's almost eclipse and you can't stop your anxiety from building. You pace around the room, trying to take deep breaths and focus on anything else, but it was damn near impossible. You sit down as your mind raced, nervously fiddling with your hands. Closing your eyes, you inhale through your nose and exhale with your mouth. After a few huffs, your rushing heart starts to slow down. You lay back now, sighing and looking at your ceiling. And just as you started to relax, "Hey baby.." You ears perked at the deep voice your hear. Sitting up on your elbows, you try to smile, Neteyam sets his gear down, slowly walking toward your small frame. There's a certain look in his eye, it's dark, and it scares you.

He climbs onto the cot, hovering over you. "Are you ready for me?" He says lowly, and you can almost feel his arousal. You nod twice, slight fear in your expression. Neteyam brings his head down to your chest, tugging at your top with his teeth, causing you to shudder. "Don't be scared," He licks a stripe and your breath hitches. "It's just me." Right after saying that, he tears your top with his fangs, your pupils dilate in shock. He was an entirely different person.

He snakes his hand up to your hard nipples, squeezing your right bud as he spit on your left one, toungue circling your areola. You close your eyes, soft pleasure begins to overcome you. You've never had the urge to make a sound until now, you don't want to, but it's almost impossible to control. "H-hmh.." You mewl. Neteyam notices and his ear twitches, you felt his grin as he continues to suckle on your tits. He now brought his hand down to your loincloth, rubbing your cunt through the fabric as he grazes the formed wet spot. "Already so wet, hm? Such a good girl." He hums, words vibrating your sensitive nipples. Expertly, he unties his own, throwing it off. He comes up from your breasts, and you're met with his large, dark blue cock. Purple veins protruding as it twitches for more. It almost looks.. painful?

Your eyes were wide. "You can touch it, it's okay baby." He reassures. You slowly reach out to his member with your index finger, the second you touch the tip, it twitches again. You quietly gasp, he chuckled at your reaction. "That's how it reacts, pretty. Don't worry." He cupped your cheek, kissing your lips with desire. "Take this off for me", he tugs at the waistband of your loincloth. You comply, lifting your hips to untie it, trying to ignore your shakey hands.

Neteyam shimmy's your cloth down, bringing his head to your wet and glistening heat with a deep inhale. He slides his finger up your folds. "Mm.. so fucking wet baby, I think you're ready for me, wouldn't you say so?" He teases, scissoring you open with his digits as he makes out with your clit. Pleasure overwhelms you, hips subconsciously bucking up to him as you held back your noises, but he could fainty hear you. "Yeah? You speak now, hm?" Your eyes squeeze shut as his pace quickens, now shoving his two fingers inside of you and pumping them with a fast pace. "Uh huh.." You quietly whimper, he feels more than accomplished at the dirty sounds you make. "That's fucking right baby", he curls his digits, massaging your spongey walls, earning a gasped "Nghh!" from you. "Juust like that." He pulled his fingers out, sucking them clean with a pop.

Neteyam pulls your hips toward him, fisting his cock a couple times before aligning it with your entrance. He notices the twang of worry in your face. "You'll love this baby, I'll make you scream my fucking name." He promised. It made you quite nervous, but nonetheless, you nod at him and close your eyes. Without warning, his fat cock is forcing it's way inside of you, inch by inch, knocking the wind from your lungs.

Your eyes flew open, mouth agape at the feeling. He grunts, enjoying the way your delicious pussy is wrapped around him. "Mhmm, yeah.." Neteyam moaned while grinding his hips into you. "Am I making you feel good? Huh?" He growls. You can't sign, and you can't respond in any way. He uses this to his advantage, pulling out and plunging himself back into you, a loud and long moan escapes from your mouth, he smirks as he pumps his cock upward, hitting your sweet spot. Every. Time.

You squeeze your eyes shut, quietly cursing and whining under your breath. "Fuck! Oh fuck, Neteyam.." You repeat with a quiet breath, followed up by another moan, unknowingly making such lewd noises. "You can do better than that." He groans, fucking you faster as the sounds of your bodies coming together filled the room. "Hmmmh, so good! Sosososo g-ood.." You whimper, no longer caring about whether or not you speak, you just need him. More than you ever have before.

You wrappes your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. "More. I need you." You mewl. "Beg." He demanded, slowly fucking up into you. "P-please.. Nete.. yam." You moaned, "I want you, I want you! S-so fucking bad!" You cry out, breath shaky. "That's what I wanna hear." He huffs, pace increasing gradually. Your pussy clenches around him, exuding wet squelching noises. You whine, begging for something, but you don't know what.

He fucking loves the way you've let go. The intimacy and tension is building between the two of you. He scoffs at how you're still trying to supress your moans, as if you weren't just begging him to fuck you harder a minute ago. "Cmon, let me hear you." He thrusts harder, looking down at your tummy to see his cock poking out with each thust me makes. "Don't try to be all quiet now, you're not so innocent as I thought, huh? You're still a slut. A nasty slut who just needed to be fucked like this, aren't you?" You whine, moans coming out even when you try to stop.

He grabs your hand, placing it on your stomach. "Look at it", he grunts, holding your hand on the reappearing buldge. You watch the way his cock made contact with your tummy, pressing down on it at every chance you get. You felt so incredibly full, each pump in your pussy leaving you breathless. "Mmm.." Neteyam moans through gritted teeth. "Yeah. Keep your hand right there, don't you dare fucking move it." You whimper in response, tears forming in your eyes from the pleasure.

An unfamiliar feeling forms around your core. Your muscles tighten as you feel light. "Uhh! Nete- Neteyam.. I feel weird", You whine, pleading for him to stop whatever he was doing to make your body react this way. "Shh, shh, shh, baby, it's f-fine." His hips staggered inside of you. You truthfully felt like you had to pee. This can't be right. The feeling grew stronger, you can't control your body in it's essance anymore. You need something, some kind of relief. It's building up and it won't stop. "Ngghhh, more! Fuck! Harder, faster!" You moaned, fucking yourself up again him. He picks you up, holding your ass and making you straddle him as his hips slammed back into you. Making you scream and cry in pleasure as you meet his thrusts.

"Almost. Almost, almost, almost", you repeat like a mantra. "Me too baby. Fffuckk, I'm almost there. Gonna paint your insides, give you my seed." Neteyam gracefully moans, it was music to your ears. Suddenly, your pussy clenches around him. Way tighter than before. You gasp and wince. "Ah! Neteyammm!!" You moan your mates name, squeezing your arms around him. Just in time, he stops his movements all together, bursting his warm load inside of you with a low sigh, followed by another small thrust. You felt a heat form in your womb, pure bliss as he filled you up.

Your body goes limp, falling back down on the cot and curling up into yourself. Feeling worn out, like all of your energy had been drained from you. Out of breath, Neteyam lays beside you, gently running his hands across your curves. "You okay baby? You're not hurt or anything?" He checks. You answer with a quiet hum. He turns your face to him, pecking your lips as he briefly glanced down at your cunt, looking at his cum slightly pouring out.

He sighs in content. "Come, let's go get you cleaned up." He stands from the cot and slips his loincloth back on, then bending down to pick you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he secures you "I'm tired, Teyam.." You mumble quietly. "It's alright, I'll take care of you. Just rest." He reassures, tone soothing and low as he brings you to a secluded cave to clean you up.

#avatar #atwow #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #ff #avatar fanfiction #neteyam x reader #neteyam x metkayina!reader #neteyam smut #neteyam x yn #neteyam x mute trope #neteyam x mute gf

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oracle-of-dream · 4 months

Text

The Boy Next Door pt2

Minors DNI

Summary: It’s been over a week since Jeno met his new neighbor. You’ve decided playing hard is the best way to get Jeno wanting to see you more and more. When you finally let Jeno see you again, you’re sure things will get interesting.

Warnings: Pet names, Dom!Jeno, big dick Jeno, Male reader, hand job, unprotected sex, breeding, mating press, drinking, drunk sex

Wordcount: 2.8k

You fixed your bag over your shoulder as you shut the door and used your keys to lock the door. You didn’t have class until almost 11 am, but there were no good places to park on campus unless you arrived early. Focused on locking the door, you felt a chill run down your spine as you felt like you were being watched from somewhere… Slowly, you looked over your shoulder to see nothing behind you. Just the door of your next-door neighbors closed. With the chill still sitting on your back, you go down the stairs of your apartment to your car. When you get in, you toss your bag into the back seats and check your phone for a few minutes before leaving.

Knock knock

You look over to see Jeno knocking on your window, he is breathing heavily and his black hair is stuck to his forehead. He pointed at the window, motioning you to roll it down.

You rolled the window down enough to hear him.

“Finally, we’re willing to talk to me,” Jeno sighed.

“Is this going to take long? I’ll miss out on my chance to get a spot near my class. I don’t want to walk super far.”

“Let me in, I’ll ride with you.”

You pretended to think about it, your eyes closed and forehead wrinkled.

“Jesus, Y/n! I’m begging, let me ride with you.” Jeno pushed his body against the car while whining.

“Fine, get in then.”

Jeno rushed to the other side of your car and sat himself in the passenger seat.

Once he was settled, you drove towards the campus. Focusing on the road, you didn’t look over as you said, “So, can I help you with something Jeno? Or did you just want an Uber?”

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you, but it feels like you’ve been avoiding me…”

“Am I? Or are you just not trying hard enough to catch me?”

“You’ve been leaving early in the morning, being gone all day, and even when you are home you ignore the door. And I know you’re home. I even tried calling you.”

“Oh gosh, Jeno. It’s like I’m a busy student, I am at school for hours, and when I’m home I want to finally sleep after a long day’s work…”

Jeno got silent for a few minutes before getting the courage to speak again. “I, want to talk about the last time we got to… interact.”

“What about it?”

“What was it supposed to be? Like a one-time thing, or something more?”

“What do you think it was?”

“I can tell you what I want it to be–”

You break-checked Jeno, cutting him out of his sentence. “Sorry, what was that?”

“You came onto me, Y/n.”

“And you came in me, Jeno.”

Jeno fell silent again, trying to think of a proper comeback. Before he got the chance, you ended up getting to campus and finding a parking spot rather quickly.

“Well, I gotta go now. It was nice chatting, I guess.”

Jeno followed you, just a few steps behind you.

You started to speedwalk, moving through large crowds of people and making sharp turns to lose him. But every time you thought you’d managed to shake him, he’d be there.

“Oh for the love of– Jeno, what is it!?”

“Y/n, let’s be boyfriends or something! I don’t know, I liked us together…” Jeno’s face and ears were a soft tint of pink. To think this was the muscular, motorcycle-riding, bad boy type that you’d sucked off before. Now reduced to a needy puppy who won’t stop following you.

“Why would we be boyfriends?”

“Because we got something going on here!”

“We’ve only met like twice, and the other of those times was more memorable than the other.” You chuckled as you could see his dick twitch in his sweatpants.

“You said you’d like for us to see each other again!”

“That doesn’t mean seeing each other, Jen.”

“J-Jen?” He stumbled at the sudden nickname.

“Too much? I thought boyfriends would have cute nicknames for each other.” You pretended to make a pouting expression.

“So, we’re boyfriends!? Just like that?” Jeno’s expression brightened with a big smile.

“Now that you mention it, I don’t want things to be too easy. So, let’s find out if this will work. I’ll see you tonight around 7, at your place. Then we can find out if we can be a thing.”

Jeno frowned. “But you seem fine with being my boyfriend already…”

You shot him a cold glare. “You calling me easy?”

Jeno shook his head. “No! 7 pm, my place! I’ll be waiting!” He took off before he could say anything else to turn your attitude.

Finally able to enjoy some peace and quiet, you go through your morning routine. Grab a soda, find a spot in the library doom scroll on social media until class time. After your classes for the day, you had about two hours before you were supposed to see Jeno. Plenty of time to go home and prepare for the night you predicted would come.

While getting dressed and making yourself presentable, there was a knock at your apartment door. You answered it, opening the door wide.

Renjun was standing in the doorway, dressed in a cardigan and a collared shirt with black jeans. “Hi y/n! Jeno tells us you’re coming over tonight for game night!”

“Game night?”

“Yeah! Jeno and the other guys in our friend group get together every once in a while to hang out and play some games. Didn’t he tell you?”

You raise an eyebrow and smirk, “No, but sounds fun! I can’t wait. Should I bring anything over?”

“Not at all! Just come over whenever, some of the others are here already. Mark and Haechan ran out to get snacks and drinks, I came over to ask if you wanted anything specific so I could pass it on to them.” Renjun pointed at his phone in his hand.

You shook your head. “No, I’m not too picky, I’ll let y’all choose. And I’ll be over in a second, I’m almost done getting myself together.”

Renjun smiled and waved as he went back over to his apartment. “Just come right in whenever the door will be unlocked.”

You spent a little more time in the bathroom, double-checking yourself in the mirror. Then you walked around the hall and let yourself into Jeno’s apartment.

It was clean, surprisingly, and orderly. There was a hallway with records on the wall leading into a room with voices coming from it.

“Oh? Someone’s here!” A high-pitched voice called.

“Is it Mark?” A deep voice added.

“No, there’s no way they’re back that fast.” You heard another voice.

You saw a buff man in a sleeveless shirt with dark brown hair and black pants come out of the room.

He looked you up and down with an eyebrow raised. “And who might you be? I think you’ve got lost, but we’ve got space here if you wanna stay.”

You shook your head, trying to not look too hard at his pecs peeking from his shirt. “I was invited. I’m y/n.”

He opened his eyes wide in surprise. “Oh! You’re y/n!” He stepped forward and pulled you in for a hug, which was warm and tight. “I’m Jaemin, I’ll introduce you to the others.”

“Where’s–”

“He’s still getting ready,” Jaemin turned and winked at you. He told me he was looking forward to meeting you at 7 tonight. He’s my best friend but he won’t even tell me anything about you, so I hope we get close tonight.” Jaemin’s voice was soothing and smooth like he wanted to help slide you off your feet and into his bed. He led you into the living room where three others were waiting. “That’s Chenle, Jisung, and I’m sure you know Renjun.”

You greeted the two new faces.

“I’m Chenle!” Chenle’s voice was loud and high-pitched, which was not expected from his face facial features. He has black and red hair, and wore slacks with a tucked white button-up.

“You a business major?” You pointed at his outfit.

“Yeah, family business. As in, my family funds the Business major program.”

You raised your eyebrows and turned your attention to the other man.

“I’m Jisung,” Jisung was the opposite of Chenle, he spoke softly but his voice was very deep. He had very kiddush features with a knit black and white hat with cat ears, a New York hoodie, and ripped jeans. “I dance.”

You nod, “that’s cool. Dancing is cool. I dance a little.”

Jisung’s eyes glowed for a moment. “Y-Yea… We should dance together sometime, or whatever.”

You could tell her didn’t mean, “or whatever,” he wanted to dance with you.

The two of them both seem interested in you but are also pretty close to each other. You knew it would be interesting to learn about what’s going on with them later.

Renjun leaned in, trying to speak softer. “So, what’s the deal with you and Jeno?”

You raised an eyebrow. “The deal?”

The others murmured in agreement.

“Jeno seems to be making a pretty big deal that you were coming tonight, telling us not to say anything too embarrassing.”

“Does this count as embarrassing?” You asked.

Jaemin shook his head. “It doesn’t count when he’s not here. He can’t be embarrassed by what he doesn’t know is happening.”

“I can hear everything, and it is embarrassing!” Jeno’s voice came from a room around the corner as he came into the living room. You turned to get a tasteful look at his outfit, it looked like he’d taken some serious time to clean up. Jeno neatly brushed his hair into a middle part. He was wearing a sleeveless leather jacket, a black crop top, and dark denim jeans with a black belt. He was wearing his pants low on purpose to show more of his toned stomach, small waist, and the waistband of his underwear.

He approached you, “I’m so glad you could make it.”

You dryly chuckled, “Well, I said I’d be here, right?”

He nodded happily. Instinctively he reached for your hand as he moved into the living room. You let him take your hand and walk you to one of the couches so you could sit next to him. He sat first and scooted as you sat down so you landed on his lap.

You turn to him, “Really?”

He had a silly smile plastered on his face, as he felt all his friends examining him and his guest.

Renjun cut in, “Well, Mark and Haechan will be here soon. Let’s chill and we can hang when they get here.”

Eventually, the last two guys show up, Mark and Haechan are attached at the hip. Probably a couple, and if not then it was only a matter of time. After getting settled, everyone started to enjoy the night of eating, gaming, and drinking together. Before you realize it, you end up getting into a drinking game with Jaemin and losing badly. Renjun had to call the competition as it was getting late and people were beginning to pass out. Jisung and Chenle cuddled together on the couch. Jaemin started cleaning up the mess. Mark moved Haechan to sleep in his room before helping clean up. Renjun was the only one who didn’t drink since he didn’t like the taste of alcohol, so he was taking care of everyone.

You could still understand everything going on, but you were drunk.

Jeno was only focused on you. “Do you need anything, water or something?”

You shook your head. “Nah, I think I’ll just head home.”

Jeno grabbed your hand gently. “You could also… stay in my room. We never really had that talk, remember?”

You smiled at Jeno. “You want me that badly, that you’d even take advantage of me being drunk?”

Jeno shook his head furiously. “I’d never do that!”

You chuckled as you threw yourself into his arms. “Okay, I’ll stay in your room then. But you’ll have to carry me.”

Jeno picked you up bridal style without a second thought. “I’m going to go put him to bed now.”

Renjun winked at Jeno, “Just make sure to not make too much noise.”

Jeno blushed. “It’s not like that!” He carried you off into his room before Renjun could tease him anymore. He carried you with one hand, as you wrapped your arms around his neck so he could open his bedroom door. Gently, Jeno laid you onto his bed on your back. You looked up at him as he hovered over you.

“Do you wanna kiss?” You asked softly.

Jeno locked eyes with you. “Like so badly. But you aren’t in a good state of mind, we shouldn’t do anything that could lead to that…”

You sighed. “Jeno, you wanna be my boyfriend?”

Jeno nodded.

“Then fine, we’re boyfriends.”

Jeno hugged you tightly, putting his body weight onto you. You felt every part of him as his crop top slid up his torso while he hugged you.

“Now that we’re boyfriends, we can kiss and whatever.”

Jeno pulled away, “are you sure that’s what you want?”

You pulled Jeno into the bed and rolled on top of him. His face was initially shocked but moved into awe while he stared at you slip your shirt off. You pick up his hands and place them on your hips, and he takes the signal to let his hands run across your body. You slowly swing your hips, pressing your ass against his clothed cock.

“It hurts…” Jeno moaned.

You stopped. “I’m hurting you?”

“No! No, please don’t stop!” Jeno squeezed your hips and moved you the way he wanted. "Mo-more please." He pleaded.

You let your hand slip under his waistband and into his boxers, making direct contact with his cock while you kiss him. You started moving your hand up and down his cock, his hips fucking into your hand. Your body starts to stick as you get faster.

Jeno throws his shirt aside before coming back to kiss you across your chest, stopping to focus on your nipples.

You slide down his body, his legs hanging off the bed as you start to unzip his pants and take his belt off.

“Let’s not get too carried away with a head this time?” Jeno laughed.

“You couldn’t handle head and this ass.”

“I totally could–”

You kiss him again as you slide his underwear and pants off, he does the same to you.

“Hold on, I’ll get rubber.” Jeno lifted you, but you didn’t let him put you down.

“You can skip if you want.”

Jeno looked you in your eyes. “Sex and it’s raw? You’re crazy… and now you’re all mine too.” He slips his finger into your ass which slips in with no resistance. “You came ready for me?”

“Of course I did.”

“So you always meant to be with me?”

“Well duh.”

Jeno laid you on the bed with your legs in his hands as he held your ankles. He climbed on top of you and slipped in his fat cock. He slammed his body into yours with power and sleep, he smirked as he watched your face change from pain to pleasure. Each mean stroke was deep and hard, making you some at a brutal pace. The sounds of skin-on-skin slapping were so loud, Jeno’s grunts mixed with your moans.

“Am I too big for you baby? You were so confident I wasn’t the one who could handle you. Jeno kisses you again while still fucking you, your body was overloaded with sensation. Your toes scrunched, your legs shook, and you even started drooling uncontrollably. “Cum for me, do it now!”

Your whole body reacts to his command as you cum so hard you shoot onto your face. You’re body tenses, mostly your ass, making Jeno fuck you through your orgasm feel even better.

Jeno flipped the two of you over so that he was on the bottom and lifted you up and down onto him, fucking you like a fleshlight. Your hands were holding his pecs for balance, nails scratching him.

“Please, baby, cum soon. I can’t take much more…” you begged.

That was all that Jeno needed to have one of the strongest orgasms he’d ever felt. He held you down as he pushed himself as deep as possible, shooting into you. Your brain was blank, your body was acting on instinct; hole clenching repeatedly to milk Jeno, your head was thrown back, and your eyes were sealed shut.

Jeno gently helped you lay down on the mattress. “You going to be okay?”

You mumbled back, “I don’t know if I can get up…”

“I can carry you to the bathroom.”

“Don’t bother… Just keep it in me, I’ll deal with it later.”

Jeno moved, pulling out slightly, and it made you almost scream like crazy.

“I told you–”

“I know, I’m sorry baby. I couldn’t help myself. I won’t leave.” Jeno moved back into you, leaving his warm cum and his cock inside of you as you fell asleep. “Goodnight, baby…”

#jeno smut #lee jeno smut #nct smut #jeno x reader #lee jeno #nct jeno #jeno #nct fanfic #nct x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #oracle of dreams #kpop x male reader #jeno x male reader

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2smolbeans · 6 months

Text

"Nearly breaking down as you saw Marco softly smile at you. A smile you haven't seen ever since he found his 'darling'."

Part 2 Part 2.5 character info

Love Me, Love Me Not

Yandere Best Friend x Obstacle Reader

*unedited

Tags: kidnapping, complicit murder, guilt, suggestive tones, mixed signals, eventual smut, oneshot, reader is going through mixed feelings, one sided crush, yandere is in love with someone else, imprisonment, will they won't they vibes.

Disclaimer: This is just a scenario I thought of with an Oc! So nothing is really 'official' or canon-

_____________________________

One too many times, you should've called the police. Why didn't you though? Now you sit there on the shower floor, hot water burning your back as you try to warm up the chill that goes down your spine. Their eyes, oh god they were open and staring at you dead in fear. Why did you cover for him?

You felt the sob trapped in your throat rip out of you as you remembered all the horrible things you were complicit in. There was nothing you could do now but accept the reality. You wouldn't get caught. The two of you burned all the evidence, and sadly, the victims were easy to dispose of. Did anyone look for them? Was anyone curious about them going missing?

The guilt was heavy, and it didn't help that the person you did it for- couldn't give two shits about you.

Marco, your happy go lucky best friend. You remembered that night when he called you, in a panic, begging you to rush to where he was. Of course you went, you were so worried for him. Upon arrival, you saw the large bag and tools. The look on his face warning you to do as he says before he decides to have another matching body bag beside him.

"You trust me don't you? I just need help with this, and then we can be over with it!"

You should've ran, screamed, called for help. But instead, you just grabbed the lower half of the bag, feeling the dreadful sensation of its limbs. You heard a shocked hum across you before the bag lifted off the ground.

"This is why you're always my number one go to. I apperciate this, I mean it. I won't ever forget this. Now follow me 'kay?"

What a joke. It was all a lie, wasn't it? All of that just for some sick obsession. Just for his "girlfriend" to focus on him and him only. If Marco just pursued her normally like a decent fucking human being, nobody would've been hurt, lies wouldn't have been told, your friendship would've been intact..

He could've just told those once alive victims that he wanted to ask her out. If Marco just smiled at her like he used to smile towards you- you're damn sure she would've fallen for him.

It worked for you afterall..

Maybe you should've let go when you had the chance. Cause now here you are, fending for your life as the killer you once called a friend claims you're the very obstacle of their relationship.

What? But you helped him?

You're staring at her in the wrong way.

Are you fucking kidding me? Does he know how many times you cried. The nights you spent mourning for the dead and the friendship that once was?

He still cares about you. But you forced him to get rid of you.

That's funny since you're currently showering at his apartment. You can't leave, though. He's locked the doors and windows. He even went as far as locking the knife cabniet and potential weapons. Still with the shower running, you didn't flinch at the sound of the bathroom door opening.

Curled up in a ball as you sat in the shower, you finally saw the eyes staring down at your naked form. You couldn't read his face, understand his expression, or even tell what he was thinking. It was foreign, new.

"Hey. Are you done? You're taking up the water bill y'know?"

Oh right, how long were you there for? Awkardly, you tried standing up while covering yourself with what little your hands could hide. You hoped he would at least save you some dignity, but he just kept staring with a blank expression.

"Here's a towel. Dry up and come to the kitchen. I made us something to eat"

You thanked Marco as you were quick to wrap your body with the towel. Looking again at Marco, you saw a hint of dissapointnent splay upon his eyes.

"Okay..Well just-Just..do whatever. Don't take too long or else I'll drag you out myself."

Rolling your eyes, you pushed Marco out of the bathroom as you closed the door. Locking - Oh right, he removed all the locks to each room..Drying off your body, you put on the clothes he left for you. Eventually, you made it to the kitchen, sitting down on the chair as you watched him cook.

He looked so calm, so soft as he focused on flipping the meat. You almost smiled when you heard him mutter about how he spilled some oil on his shirt.

Eventually sitting down to join you, Marco gave you your food as he offered you a drink. You declined of course, not feeling thirsty and paranoid of whatever poison he might spike it with. Smelling the aroma of the food, you felt your mouth water. He was always a good cook, hell you remembered the first time you visited his place.

How he made you a nice cooked lamb with mash potatoes. You recalled it being the first time you've ever seen Marco so particular about a certain thing - even though he's always been a speradic and chaotic individual. Though, the quick realization of your perdicment made the food cold and unappetizing.

Biting your lip, you turn your head away as you felt your eyes burn.

Don't cry, don't cry.

You sucked it up. Inhaled the air that surrounded you and forced a bite into your mouth. The food was good, you couldn't deny it. But it didn't taste as good as it did before. It's good, you say. Nearly breaking down as you saw Marco softly smile at you. A smile you haven't seen ever since he found his 'darling'. You want to run away and cry, to start fresh and new.

"I'm actually glad you moved in with me, it feels nice talking to someone who's helped me"

With the murders?

"Hey, we finally reached one of our bucket lists! To be roomates! Huh, well isn't that kind of funny? And we didn't even plan it out- kinda just happened huh!"

He was just rubbing the salt in the wound at this point. Forcing a smile, you just continued eating, chewing your food as a distraction as he kept on staring at you. Where's his girlfriend? Why didn’t he just make her move into his apartment if you're in the way?

"Oh her? She's at work, don't worry about it"

You stop eating, finishing your plate as you push it towards Marco.

"All done? I'm glad you enjoyed it! Just sit right there while I put everything away"

Is there any way for you to escape? There has to be a way, right? What are you doing here? How long is Marco planning on keeping you alive?

"Hey, your not thinking of doing anything weird right?"

You nod your head no profusely, trying to get his suspicion off of you. Patting your shoulder, Marco motions you to the couch. Sitting down before you as he drags you along with him. Placing you on his lap, he turns on the TV- switching through channels while you freeze on the spot.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?"

Out of nowhere, his hands slowly begin to play with your shirt. His fingers rubbing up and down your sides, his crouch nearly pressing against you. Confused, you just sit there, your hands on your knees as you glued your eyes to the screen.

"You're not lying to me, are you?"

His voice is so sweet, so much closer than you anticapted. You nearly buck against his touch just as his palm brushes a certain spot ever so subtly. Why was he doing this? You had a slight speculation why - or at least a hopeful stupid thought that would fufill your old wishes.

"...If you say so"

You find yourself now sitting beside him, pushed off of his lap. Feeling the weight shift on the couch, Marco stood up and walked away for what seemed like forever.

"I just remembered I have to quickly run by to get some things. I'll be back.."

If like nothing happened, you were alone. Confused, you wave your hands around as you scrunch up your face. Talking to yourself as you pace around the room. Calming down, you walk towards the door. Examining it as you realised that Marco had left one of the security laches loose. Should you risk it? You could grab the butterknife he gave you for the meal to loosen the door..

Oh fuck.

You could perhaps finally leave.

____________________________

Part 2 coming up soon!

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kteezy997 · 7 months

Text

Chocolate Boss: part one // Willy Wonka

If I end up going to hell, it’ll be for this.

I blame @gatoenlaciudad

Warnings: smut, licking chocolate off reader’s body, nipple play, slight boss/employee power dynamic

Y/n was the chocolate factory’s most dedicated employee. She worked hard, stayed after hours, and really strived to make the business the best it could be. She was also a wizard in the kitchen, much like Mr. Wonka.

Willy admired his diligent employee, in fact, he had a bit of a crush on her. He’d seen her work with the candies, cakes, and pastries. He noticed that she had a real passion for it.

It was way passed closing, and Willy was heading out of the factory after a long day. He noticed that the kitchen light was still on, however. The aroma of fresh, warm chocolate filled his nose. It was divine. He knew exactly who was still in there.

He walked through the swinging doors of the factory kitchen. Y/n had a large pot of chocolate on the stove. She was stirring it, obviously stuck in her own head, thinking of whatever recipe or concoction she wanted to bring to fruition.

“Miss y/l/n, I don’t want you working yourself too hard. We should both really get out of here for the night.” Willy said politely, approaching her side.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wonka. It’s just that this idea has been in my head all day. It’s like a chocolate bar with strawberries and cream and ugh, it sounds so delectable.”

Willy raised his brow, “I love it. We will work on your idea tomorrow, just you and I. I can’t wait to see how it turns out.”

“Oh really?! Thank you, Mr. Wonka!” she exclaimed, hugging him.

He smiled with glee as he hugged her back.

“It’s a pity that this batch of chocolate will go to waste if I go home now though.” she said.

“That’s alright.” Willy replied with a wave of his hand. “We can start over in the morning.”

“Or…” she began stepping over to the counter across from the stove and picked up a fresh strawberry by its short stem. “Maybe we could try some?” She bit her lip suggestively.

Willy’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head and he swallowed hard. “Oh, yes, we certainly could.”

Y/n smiled in victory, “Here, Mr. Wonka.” She dipped the small fruit into the liquid chocolate, coating it up to the tiny bit of green at the top of it. Letting the excess chocolate drip off, she held it up to Willy’s mouth.

Carefully, he opened his mouth. He felt the warm chocolate on his top lip, then there was the bright pop of the fruitiness of the strawberry when he bit into it. The chocolate coating was an excellent contrast, like a creamy, decadent blanket surrounding the fruity taste.

“It’s perfect.” he declared dreamily.

“May I, sir?” she asked.

Willy cocked his head to the side, not really understanding what she was meaning. Next thing he knew, y/n was leaning in and her lips met his. He was surprised but definitely not disappointed. He indulged in her, opening his mouth up for her to explore with her tongue.

Now he knew what she was doing. She was tasting her creation in his mouth.

“Mm,” she moaned softly when she parted from his lips. “It is pretty good. Forgive me, Mr. Wonka, I had to taste it. I-I wanted to… taste you too. I hope this doesn’t mean I’m fired.”

“Far from it, my dear.” he said, assuring her.

“Oh, good.” she grinned. "May I kiss you again, Mr. Wonka?"

"Yes, please. And as I've told you before, you can call me 'Willy.'"

Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, "Willy." she giggled, leaning in and kissing him softly, running her hands down his arms sensually.

He in turn, put his arms around her as well, and their bodies became flush with one another.

She parted from his lips but remained still just an inch from them when she said, "I've got an idea." She then stepped back and started to remove her clothing.

"Wait-what.." Willy stammered.

"Shh," she put her finger on his lips, silencing him for a moment, "let me try something."

Willy could barely breathe as he watched her get completely naked before him. He watched her painstakingly. She then dipped her hand into the pot of liquid chocolate. It dripped down her hand and she gave him a cheeky grin before smearing the chocolate onto her breasts, covering her nipples.

"Oh, Willy, can you clean this up for me?" she asked, acting innocently as she brought her chocolate covered fingers to her mouth and started to lick the sweetness off of them.

Willy cleared his throat. His cock was already hard, pressing against the fabric of his trousers. "Fuck." was his only verbal response at this point, but he was able to answer her with a head nod.

He sunk down a little bit to be eye level with her breasts. He licked his lips and put his mouth around her right nipple. He sucked and swirled his tongue around it as it puckered in his mouth, making sure to get every last bit of the sugary goodness off her tit. He couldn't help but moan at how delicious it was. Oh, how it turned him on. His two favorite things: Y/n and chocolate.

"Mmm, don't forget the other one, my sweet." cooed y/n, cupping his face as he suckled her.

He obliged and switched to her left breast, clearing up the rich coating with his tongue and lips. He looked up at her as he was latched onto her nipple, sucking softly on the tender bud.

"Willy, feels so good. You're getting me so clean." she praised him, giggling and running her fingers gently through his curly hair.

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee chalamet smut #timothee x reader #timothée imagine #willy wonka #willy wonka x reader

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fuckmyskywalker · 6 months

Text

Illusions — Trailer Trash!Anakin

— CW: 18+. Smut. Sexist remarks. Age gap (Anakin is on his 40s, reader is around 24-26). Slight manipulation. PiV. Creampie. Anakin loves to play reader dumb. | Word count: 1.4 (not proofread!)

— a/n: This is my part on the wonderful AU @lovelybucky1 and I talked about and that we are so involved with. Please read Artemis part before mine since it will give you context for this part! I love you my darling, you are my soulmate.

— Trailer Trash!Anakin part I

Waking up next to an empty bed isn't a bad thing when you are wearing Anakin’s oil stained shirt and being held by the warmth of the ghost of his presence next to you. Assuming he is off to work you decide to stay in bed a little longer, hugging his pillow and drowning yourself in the nauseous scent of his perfume and cigarettes.

The front door opens and you rise from bed with a small smile adorning your sleepy expression. The way your heart jolts when Anakin is back home has no comparison… and you love to make him feel taken care of. Making breakfast for him, watching him drink his morning coffee and getting fucked against the small kitchen counter makes your heart flutter— fulfilling his not-so-secret fantasy of having a throphy wife that will attend his needs, unlike his ex wife who wouldn't put up with his shit.

You swing the door open, expecting to see Anakin standing in the tiny hallway that leads to the bathroom and the single bedroom— only to find another woman staring at you with clear disgust. She is holding an empty laundry basket in her hand and a judgemental look in her dark eyes. Something about her expression is creepily similar to Anakin’s, but at the same time abysmally different.

«It's his daughter» You think, feeling your soul leave your body for a second. The way she stares down at you makes you feel as if you were naked under her gaze, completely vulnerable and viewed as nothing more than a common whore.

A few more footsteps caught your attention and two more people entered the trailer. A young man and a woman; they shared similar features and their faces share the same eerie aura of Anakin. They have smiles on their faces that melt the second they meet you standing in the hallway. Never in your life have you felt more judged and alone. The younger woman stands behind who you assume is the oldest, holding her arm as the only boy looks at you. He is the one who shares Anakin's expression the most— and it scares the shit out of you.

The entire trailer is thick with tension and an electrifying feeling of loathing— and it is all towards you, because of you.

Just like magic and as if he was your knight in shining armor, Anakin walks in the trailer with a frown. His eyes miss your presence and the way you are silently begging for help to address his children and save you from them.

“You are just like your mother!— always talking bullshit and always—” Anakin stops when he finally spots you, curling his lips to a smile that comforts you. “Oh, dollface.”

He walks past his daughter practically pushing her against the wood wall of the hall to reach you, placing his hands on your waist and pulling you for a kiss. His tongue slides inside your mouth as his large hands reach down to cup your ass and squeeze it. Instead of turning you on, it only worses your embarrassment— how can he be groping you with his children watching?

“Anakin,” You whisper against his lips. “Not here, they are watching us…”

A loud sound makes both of your eyes snap, the laundry basket lands next to his old boots. “Come on, we're leaving.” His daughter says with pure venom, turning around.

Your throat feels dry, but Anakin apparently isn't having it. “Alyssa! Come back here,” He never leaves your side, in fact he squeezes your ass harder, almost with hatred. “Who the fuck is going to do my laundry?”

“Ask your new whore to do it.”

Your body curls in embarrassment, how could she say such things? She doesn't even know you!

Alyssa storms out of the trailer, but the twins seem reluctant to follow her. Anakin kisses you again before turning his attention back to his children. “Don’t listen to your sister, she is just like your mother.”

“Dad.” The younger girl says. “You were supposed to spend the day with us.” Her voice makes your heart ache and you can’t help but feel guilty.

His son doesn't seem to be in the same ride though. He grabs his sister's arm and rolla his green eyes. “Fuck you Dad. Alyssa is right, you will never change,” Something about his voice echoes inside your head, he sounds just like Anakin.”Let’s go Thena.”

“Fuck off then!” Anakin yells as his son slams the trailer door close. Running his hands through his blond locks, the multiple strands of silver shine under the shitty lights of the mobile house. “I don’t need them. Who needs them…” His voice is low, but his face is so close to yours you can hear him and smell the cigarettes he had earlier in his breath. “I only need you, dollface.”

A part of you tries to protest. You don’t agree with him— his children are his after all, but before you can even open your mouth his lips crash against yours, gripping your jaw to force your mouth open and slide his tongue in. The kiss is messy and sloppy and characteristically Anakin. He drags you to the bed and slams the door shut, practically making the whole trailer shake. Anakin pushes you to the bed causing to gasp. Something about him being so aggressive scares you and allures you at the same time. He is quick to peel off his shirt to grope your tits, pinch your nipples and slap the flesh roughly.

“You like that?” He breathes out, rubbing his erection trapped underneath his work overalls. “Of course you do— you just need someone to take care of you.”

He flips you, bringing your ass up in the air and letting his palm smack on the tender flesh. Anakin loves how willing to please him you are, how easy is to get you to do what he wants with empty promises and sweet talk whispered to your ear. He loves how stupid and love deprived you are.

When he finally pushes his cock inside you, your body tenses at the intrusion, moaning and arching your back. Anakin traces the curve of your spine with his index finger, smirking at how soft and youthful your body is. It makes him feel alive. You ignite something inside of him that gives him the strength to fuck you as if he was 20 years all over again. It’s your fourth day spending the night at his place and those illusions of moving in with him, make this shitty, cheap trailer a home, to change him… are only growling stronger.

His thrusts push the air out of your lungs and Anakin is in heaven to feel your pussy just as tight as he did in the morning when he fucked you before leaving for work. “Good girl— such a good pussy, so tight and wet for me.” His balls slap against your clit with every snap of his hips and any neighbors who walks next to his place will hear Anakin’s deep, animalistic groans and your seeet helpess moans, accompanied with the sound of sweaty skin-to-skin.

Throbbing inside you, his hairy thighs quiver with the force of his orgasm, and you find yourself closer as well. “A–Anakin,” You look at him from over your shoulder with glassy eyes that make his dick leak inside you. “Pull out—p–please.”

“I will try okay?” He says and it’s enough for you. “Your pussy just feels so good.” The praise makes you whine, maybe, maybe it’s okay if he does it one time…

But he doesn't because he knows that if he apologizes you will forgive him. He knows that if he brings you a pink pill your stupid mind will think it's a plan-b when in reality is a kid’s supplement. So when Anakin fill you up with his sticky heavy load deep inside your womb, while the back of his head wishes you end up pregnant so he can at least make up for his mistakes with a new child. He still fucks you until you come because he wouldn't waste that emotional rollercoaster that orgasms provide you with.

Anakin holds you, kissing your sweaty skin and caressing your shoulders. The room smells like sex, cigarettes and that cheap whiskey he buys at the gas station next to the diner you work at. His softening length rubs between your thighs, as his cum slides down your spent hole and makes a mess on the yellow-ish fitted sheet already covered in various stains—only god knows when was the last time he washed it— and it warms your heart. He is a good man, you know it. Deep down, looking past all his flaws, he is a good man.

You can change him.

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#trailer trash!anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker imagine #Anakin Skywalker au #anakin skywalker fan fiction

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