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bywons · 14 days

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✧ YOU BELONG WITH ME ENHYPEN—

╰—— 𝗈𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇

( ✶🪽 𝓢. ) 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇 x 𝖿! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 g. 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 1796 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 !𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗒, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 ✦ ◞ 𝒞ATALOGUE?!

๑´ ³`) ﾉ pls leave feedbacks if u liked it ♡ REBLOG !!

LEE HEESEUNG tightens the grip around your waist and pulls you in until you bump by his side. you could easily figure out the fake smile plastered on his face, holding you tight by his side in front of his friends.

“so, is he more handsome than me?”, he whispers as soon as his friends are gone. it took you a couple of minutes to realise why he had a death grip on you, “you seem to like him a lot.” a single conversation with him has heeseung going tomato red now.

“what do you think?”, you scoff, looking him dead in the eye.

“he's got the old fashioned looks, a proper gentleman with a perfect sense of timing. your kinda guy,” his eyes twitched while defining the guy, oh how bad he wanted to punch him.

“you know, you sound like one of my friends with terrible taste trying to set me up on a blind date”, you laugh, wrapping your hand around his suited biceps. “yep,” heeseung scoffs, “he will go blind soon.”

“what do you think of me—?”

“i love you a lot”, you roll your eyes and chuckle, now walking side by side with heeseung, his grip still present on you, “nobody can replace my bambi boy.”

“your bambi boy huh?”, heeseung realises he can never be angry with his pretty girl when he melts the second he hears his nickname by you, pressing a small kiss on your cheeks and pulling you in.

“you want it to be somebody else?”, you smirk.

“hey!”

PARK JONGSEONG keeps a steady frown on his face, watching you finish up your pastry. he's not the type to sulk over things, if there's any problem the first thing he does is talk it out with you, and maybe have a small ice cream date later. but it's been 4 days now, that stupid frown won't leave his face, accompanied with his cold replies, even on this café date!

“is something bothering you these days?”, the fork softly clings against the plate, you try to hold in a giggle, “babe you know can tell me anything,” his sulky face is kinda cute.

“nope, i'm all good,” jay forces a smile. red flag, he's not calling you ‘love’.

“jay, you haven't even touched your pudding,” you sigh.

jay puts on a good serious thinking face, slowly withdrawing his hands from the table and releasing a deep sigh. this thing looks really serious. oh poor jay, what's wrong?

“well”, jay clears his throat before he goes off, “i really didn't think you were like this y/n i didn't expect this from you, if i did something wrong you could've just said that you know how much i love you i would do everything!”

“jay, what are you—”

“and the fuck kinda name's benjamin anyways? like hell we're not in the 19th century, y/n you could do better.”

oh. so that's what it's about. he thinks you're cheating on him, because you left your shared apartment for some benjamin guy for 3 days straight. you don't blame him though, you owe him an explanation.

“babe,” you sigh, “it's not what you think, remember benjamin? my cousin sister's child? i visit her to babysit him.”

“.....the one who called me uncle?”, jay's expression softens, instead he's shocked now.

“yeah!”, you giggle, putting your hand over his for comfort, shooting him a sorry look. “i hate that kid”, jay scoffs, you sigh.

SIM JAEYUN lets out a groan while he stares at the anime plushie in your arms. you're basically burying your face in it snuggling it, and if that wasn't enough the plushie is a man!

no way jake has to compete with a fictional man now.

“why do you need that ugly plushie when im here…”, jake whines, plopping down right beside you and scooting even closer, “am i not good enough?”

“did you just call toji fushiguro ugly?”, a frown casts upon your face as you whip your head around to shoot a glare at your boyfriend. poor him, he's too confused and jealous for this, he really wants to replace the plushie in your arms. “you're out of your mind jake.”

“i am in fact very willing to be out of my mind and be crazy for you,” jake rolls his eyes, shifting closer to you until there's only a pillow between you and him, which he soon throws away. the fresh smell of laundry and cologne floats from his sweatshirt and hits your nose, it always puts you at ease, and you miss the warm afternoons with him, just snuggling and all over each other, giggling over random past memories. “but i know for sure that plushie will…not do that for you,” jake breaks you from your trance.

“how about you show me that?”, you wink at him. heck, have you been staring at him too long?

“now you're talking”, jake smirks, snatching away the plushie from you as he sets it aside, practically throwing himself on top of you, engulfing you within his strong arms to press a series of kisses on your face, “fuck that ugly plushie.”

PARK SUNGHOON sighs, entering your shared bedroom with a bored face and arms folded. some obvious yet subtle signs he's disappointed by you, but the last disappointing thing you remember you did was eat his tiramisu. what crime have you committed now?

the bored expression quickly turns into a playful one as he clears his throat, tilting his head to one side, “are you resisting the urge to kiss and make up with me right now?”

“no not really”, you answer instantly, typing away on your laptop. but then you realised what he actually just said. with squinted eyes and a smile, you turn your head towards him, “kiss and make up? what exactly happened for us to do that?”

“i think it's about time you stop texting your best friend”, sunghoon sits down beside you giving you the meanest eye roll ever. he scoffs, “i don't get why she hates me and you don't do anything about it. it's like you two backbitch about me.”

“you won't believe it but i actually rant about you all the time to her”, you giggle, sunghoon's cheeks blooms from underneath, “she's sick of my extreme love for you.”

you let out a gasp as sunghoon pulls you in his lap, a coy smirk playing around his lips, “she should be. everyone should know i'm the best boyfriend in the world.”

you hook your arms around his neck and pull him closer, “so was the kiss and make up part just an excuse to kiss me.”

“maybe”, sunghoon chuckles, pulling you in for a chaste kiss, “who knows.”

KIM SUNOO stares straight into your phone screen, while listening to you ramble about your day and how it was. and when it glows to reveal the lock screen, sunoo feels infuriated.

“seriously now y/n, i can't believe this!”, sunoo's sudden shift in position causes your head, which was lying on his shoulders, to hit the bed frame, “like this is too much”, he seethes.

you utter a small ‘ouch’ and rub the hurt spot, a confused “what?” leaving your mouth, “wh-what do you mean?”

“you know what i mean, love”, he rolls his eyes, taking your phone and holding up the lockscreen in front of your face. it's not him. it's a random tv show character that he doesn't even know about. it should be him, it must be him, not a guy he doesn't know. “am i really being robbed of my wallpaper privileges?”, he sighs.

you let out a heavier sigh, putting up one of those smiles sunoo can't help but blush to. “don't you worry, love. maybe i don't want other girls to perceive my man. but if you're begging for it, i'll change it”, you giggle.

sunoo let's a sigh of relief and scoffs, “i'm not begging—”

“on one condition though, my head hurts!”

“aww come here, let me kiss it better”, he smiles, pulling you in again.

YANG JUNGWON literally just spawns right behind you as soon as the guy you're talking to at your friend's birthday party decides to make a move on you.

“go find someone who's not taken dude”, jungwon's eyes are green as he spits his words out, your waist already accompanied by his hand. the poor guy leaves in a hurry, not wanting to mess with the intimidating yang jungwon.

jungwon then turns to you, a shadow over his face, he's obviously upset about this, jealous even. “if you were that bored you could've called me”, jungwon mumbles.

“you were in the restroom, ‘won”, you sigh, placing a hand on his broad chest you pout, “are you…jealous—?”

“of course i'm jealous, i leave my pretty girl alone for one minute and some hipster comes and thinks he can have my girl?”, jungwon pauses for a moment to look into your cresent eyes looking up at him, you're smiling, “no. fucking. way.”

“well, it's good for you that i'm yours and only yours”, you reassure him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek and you have his breathtaking smile back. he grins at you before kissing you back, “now let's go home, i hate this party.”

NISHIMURA RIKI follows you around like a lost puppy after the dance class with his heart in shatters. just an hour ago, your dance teacher assigned partners for the upcoming festival. and it just looks like the universe is definitely not on riki's side cause you two were not paired.

“listen i'm gonna tell mrs. lee to make you my partner and i'm very sure she will listen, trust me! because you can't just—”

“riki, it's okay! it's just a project it'll be over till next week!”, you comfort your boyfriend ‘cause you know mrs. lee is a tough case, she won't crack at all. “besides, we'll be practising in the same hall.”

“exactly! that way that asshole can tease me how he got you”, riki sighs, plopping down on the benches, “i want to dance with you.”

“and i want to dance with you”, you sigh, sitting down beside him, “but you know mrs. lee would never rearrange.”

riki pulls you in a tight hug. he breathes in the vanilla scent of your hoodie before pulling back, gazing into your eyes, “if that dumbass holds you by your waist, i will go insane.”

“i won't let him do that”, you laugh, hitting his chest.

“can't we just drop out of this already? we can be the audience instead”, riki whines.

“i agree, kissing in the audience and booing them would be way better”, you nod your head. niki laughs, “you're the best girlfriend.”

📌:: TAGLIST IS OPEN ! nets. @/k-labels tags! @dollyos @leaderwon @dimplewonie @wonfilms @heartswonn @jwonistic @aaa-sia @ashtxrie @kgneptun @flwrstqr @haechansbbg @river-demon-slayer @in-somnias-world @teddywonss @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @mylstserenade @branchrkive @aishigrey @nctislifue @greyminyoon1 @ro-diaries @rikibun @sleepyxxhead @belowbun @belovedsthings @moond1or @oddracha

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bountycancelled · 9 months

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OPLA characters reacting to a sweet, girly reader who turns out to be a a ruthless fighter

genre: headcanons, fem! reader, kinda suggestive??, idfk just read it bro

requested: nope, but reqs are open! pls, for the love of god, request for the opla♡

feat: zoro, sanji

a/n: reader's feminine but not female if that makes sense, only witting again because I'm obsessed with the one piece live action. also, this may be a little ooc, since I haven't watched the anime/read the manga, sorry about that! also, if you wanna be added to my perm taglist, pls feel free to ask!

☆ZORO☆

when you first joined the crew, zoro was immediately unsure of what exactly you brought to the table. I mean, they already had a swordsman, a sharp shooter, a navigator, a dumb cook and a captain/motivational speaker. so what were you doing here?

from luffy's explanation of you, he was aware that you were a good fighter, but he had never seen you in action.

the only things he had seen from you were stuffed animals laying around the ship, pastel outfits he could spot for miles, and bows that had been put in his hair while he slept.

he was tolerant of you at best, and straight up apathetic at worst, but finally, there came a time where someone tried picking a fight with you since you seemed like an easy target while you were walking with him and nami.

although he wasn't particularly fond of you (lies), he still felt the need to defend you as a crewmate, but the ass whooping you gave the stranger made him freeze in place.

there was blood splatter on your pretty face, deep red sploches of your cute clothes, and a look of pure hatred in your eyes. and you had never looked more beautiful in zoros eyes.

that was the first time zoro had ever smiled at you. sure, he had slightly smirked at your cuter tendencies, but in that moment he was truly smitten with you.

from that day, zoro wanted to train with you. what you lacked that he had in experience, you made up for in absolute cruelty when fighting. you were quick, agile and you weren't afraid to make zoro hurt, and he loved every second of it.

zoro would sometimes smile when he saw bruising on his body from his time training with you but catch himself and go stone faced immediately. no, he was not falling for you, absolutely not.

except he was, and the next time you showed up by his side with a slight limp, some tears in your cotton candy coloured clothes, blood all over you, and a sadistic smile on your face, he would tell you as much.

SANJI♡

sanji is unsurprisingly, enamoured by you the second you join the straw hats.

I'm talking, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, cheesy and constant compliments like "you're cuter than any of your stuffed animals, yn-swan~" and even brushing up on his baking skills to bake you aesthetically pleasing sweet treats that always put a smile on your face.

if I'm being completely honest, it doesn't bother him that he doesn't know exactly what your strengths are, you could be amazing at everything like barbie or you could literally not know night from day and he'd still admire you all the same.

one day, you're wearing bottoms that are on the shorter side not that sanji minds at all and you're out exploring the island you're at with him by your side, holding all your bags because in his words "angels don't do hard labour when he's around" when someone decides to hit on you.

you reject them politely, but when they make a less than appropriate comment about your outfit, you click your tongue and shake your head, readying yourself to hospitalise someone.

sanji's mood switches to one of being happy because he's around you to one of murderous intent the second this rando tries you, but you already have them wheezing on the floor with broken nose before sanji can even lift his leg off of the ground.

you're back to usual self, fixing the bow on your hair while complaining about how fucking hard it is to get blood stains off of your clothes, while sanji is thinking about how fucking hard he is

safe to say that this heartless, terrifying side of you makes sanji fall even harder and question whether or not he's a masochist.

he'll still insist on doing things like carrying you anywhere (most of your shoes you impractical as fuck, but style>functionality always) lifting things for you and treating you like a piece of fine china because that's exactly what you deserve, no matter how badass you are.

only difference is, now he'll never come to aid when it comes to kicking ass, because he enjoys seeing you take people to heaven and back more than anything.

he compliments now range from "omg you are the most adorable, lovable, doll-like angel I've ever seen" to "please punch me, step on me, make my nose bleed, choke me-" and he's now ten times more annoying about you than he was before, which no one thought was possible.

believe me when I say that images of you in frilly outfits with your eyes gleaming like diamonds eveytime you make someone bleed occupy 90% of his thoughts. (the other 10% is all things cooking, of course.)

#opla #one piece x reader #one piece live action #x reader #reader insert #roronoa zoro #zoro live action #zoro x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #sanji live action #sanji x reader #one piece #one piece headcanons

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cherryredstars · 9 months

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Idk what wrong with me but I've been craving some highschool oneshot, or anything tbh

So I hope if u could do badbad!Miguel x goodgirl!nerd?

I have no idea what I meant by goodgirl!nerd,let just make her an good girl who always an big time nerd in the school,who loves helping people out,especially when it come to tutoringor tutor some students,so when miguel ask for her to tutor him,so he could catch up with his grades,she say yes to him,but he really didn't need the tutoring he just wanted to play around with reader (he would been craving for some of her attention,he would have an interest in her without anyone notice) he loved teasing,flirty, and most definitely love making her all stuttering and blushing mess,but what he hate how people who think that have their advantage over reader,eye fucking her with their eyes,it just makes his blood boil,his fist clenching in anger,but he deals with them later (beating tf out of them for thinking that they can touch what his) but not feeling satisfied he just had to show u who u belong to,and make you his,so on one can try to get u before him

Idk what wrong with me like I can write when I'm zoned out (also could u pls put nfsw pls)

Anyway have an great day

Pairing: Badboy!Miguel O’Hara x Goodgirl!Reader

Warnings: Protectiveness, Suggested Physical Fighting, Smut, Slight Exhibition, Marking, Praise, Lots of Curses and Mentions to Disney

Summary: All good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you. (Get it..like the song)

A/N: THIS REQUEST IS SO!!!

Word Count: 4.5K (Barely Edited)

It doesn’t take much to notice you.

He sees you all the time, sitting in the front like the good little girl you are. Batting those innocent eyes up at every teacher as you shoot your hand up to answer every question with a bashful smile. Eyes you as you go up to different students, reminding them of tutoring sessions or offering help. His good little girl just wanted to make sure everyone graduates with passing grades. Just want to be so helpful for everyone, to feel needed. He could make you feel needed. Only if you’d let him, only if you needed him as much as he needed you.

When he calls your name, your head shoots up instantly to turn to him. Your cheeks heat up when your eyes meet his, a smirk spreading on his face. He calls you over, finger forming a ‘come here’ motion. You instantly obey, getting out of your seat and standing over his desk. You flutter your lashes shyly at him, fingers fidgeting together as you try to kill the redness on your face. Miguel hums lazily, hand reaching out to play with a strand of your hair resting on your shoulder. Your hair is soft and silky against his fingers, his eyes watching as it twirls around his fingers.

“Tutor me.” He says simply, eyes blazing a lazy trial up to your face. His expression is one of boredom, except his eyes are glistening with mischief.

The eye contact makes you flush deeper, face practically a tomato as you refocus your gaze to his ear to avoid his gaze. A stuttered response leaves you, uncertainty masking your voice as you ask him what he needs help with. The question momentarily pauses his movements. Truthfully, he doesn’t need help with anything. He has a high class rank, closely following behind your up and coming valedictorian title. In the end, he replies with science, a class he has a perfect grade in. You instantly agree, shyly giving him a time and day to go to the library for his sessions.

He always shows up a few minutes early, you find him on his phone as his feet are propped up on a secluded table with his chair leaning on its back legs. A lazy smile crosses his face as he watches you walk over, not caring for the science workbooks you set down at the table. You try your hardest not to meet his gaze, finding it hard when he sets his feet down and leans closer towards you as you explain the material in quiet, stuttered sentences. He simply hums along to your explanations, not really listening as he brushes his shoulder against yours, accidentally grazing your hand when he points to a random paragraph, pressing the side of his knee against yours under the table.

Each touch makes you stop talking, body tensing as a flush covers every inch of your skin. His touch burns against your skin, causing your voice to waver and fingers to tremble. He drinks in every reaction, interrupting your explanations with questions whispered too close to your ear in a flirty tone. They’re questions he already knows the answers to, but he just wants to keep hearing you talk and stutter. He’ll make you late to your next tutor session with a pout, teasing that he still doesn’t understand what you’re trying to teach him. It always causes your eyes to soften towards him and make you promise that you’ll move your schedule around to make room for a sooner tutoring session. It always causes Miguel to puff up with pride at his clever antics and for his heart to beat faster at the thought of spending more one-on-one time with you.

When he’s not with you in his lovely tutor sessions, he keeps his eye on you. He watches you in the cafeteria as you offer someone your lunch because they didn’t bring any money and don’t have anything to eat. He smiles slightly to himself whenever you get stopped by an underclassman and you fuss over making sure they get to the right class and don’t end up lost in the halls. He gets slightly annoyed and furrows his brows when you hold the door open for a long string of people and only a few of them acknowledge your kindness with a thank you. You’re just so nice and he wishes he can have that sweetness of yours all to himself. Especially when he sees some random ass fuck trying their go at you. Because, of course you’re not just nice and smart, you’re a total fucking knockout.

You have the sweetest little face paired with a body any man would get on his knees to worship, (a thought Miguel thinks about very often in the comfort of a bathroom or his bedroom), the shiniest fucking eyes that always blink up at everyone like they’re the most interesting damn thing you’ve ever met, and a voice that drips of honey and hidden sex appeal. And if it isn’t your looks that instantly draw them in, it’s that perfect personality of yours. Always kind and patient and funny. You’re always walking with someone in the halls, making everyone you’re with laugh and crave to be the subject of your attention. You’re a goddamn magnet, and everyone wants to be connected to you. You’re the type of woman that would convince any man to settle down, to drop to a single knee and ask you to be his for life. Because everyone knows that you’re a once in a lifetime girl and no one will ever come close to you. Every boy (and some girls) in this damn school wants a chance with you.

And that pisses Miguel the fuck off. Because while you’re wife material, most boys here don’t even meet the requirements to be considered boyfriend material. Sleezy fucks who want a trophy wife that will suck them off after they come home from some meaningless job that they sit around all day doing nothing at. Immature cunts who think they’re funny when they poke fun at insecurities and claim it's a joke. Disgusting toddlers in overgrown bodies who don’t deserve to be in the same universe as you are. But, of course you’re still nice to them, and of course they think it means they have a chance with you.

Miguel is always clenching his jaw and preparing his fists whenever he walks into the library to meet you after one of your earlier sessions to see some disney channel-looking fucker trying to sweet talk you. Key word being ‘trying’, because he can tell from a mile away that you’re still trying to be patient even though your body language screams ‘I am so close to slapping this boy with my textbooks’. The thought makes Miguel snort out a laugh that instantly dies as he watches some Zac Efron wannabe lean closer towards you. The asshole’s eyes instantly drop to your chest, where your textbooks are causing your boobs to be pushed together, revealing the most mouthwatering sight. Miguel’s eye is practically twitching when the dude’s slimy fingers come to run down your arm with the ugliest smirk Miguel has had the displeasure of seeing.

Miguel doesn’t hesitate to walk over, walking slowly as he stops at the end of the table with a bored and displeased expression on his face. The boy, who’ll probably end up as a drug addict in his 20s, looks very annoyed at his presence. Even muttering something about Miguel being a ‘cock-blocker’ under his breath. The retort makes Miguel lift his brow in surprise. He didn’t know Mickey Mouse Junior even had a dick. Must be one of his magic mousekatools, he concludes.

Miguel ignores him, instantly turning to you. The grateful look on your face as you stare at him makes Miguel puff out his chest, proud of himself for making you feel better. His body loses the tiniest bit of tension as you smile softly at him. “He bothering you, princesa?”

You instantly widen your eyes, moving to shake your head when Donald Duck speaks up, “I think you’re the one bothering her, actually.”

He must have been a mosquito in his past life, Miguel thinks to himself, it would explain why he’s so fucking annoying. Miguel turns over to Shrek’s brother and stares him down. The boy instantly looks like he might piss his pants, but keeps his position as much as his wobbling legs can, “I think you should leave Miguel. I’m sure she’ll be…preoccupied for the next hour or two.”

His comment makes you cringe from the applied meaning and Miguel sees absolute red. He has to laugh at what this fucker thinks would have happend if Miguel didn’t show up. Yeah right, like this motherfucker could last that long. Miguel grabs the front of his collar with a tight grip, almost pulling the poor boy over the table. A vein is visibly running down Migue’s neck as his jaw clenches.

“Puta madre. Cuando termine contigo, no podrás tocar nada nunca más.” Miguel grinds out, shaking the worthless piece of shit slightly before turning towards you in a nicer, softer tone, but still laced with a bit of tension: “Go find us a nice table, hermosa. I have to take care of something real quick.”

You can only nod, watching as Miguel leaves with the boy out the back entrance of the library. You wince slightly as the door closes rather loudly, feeling a bit of sympathy for the boy who most likely won’t schedule another tutoring session once Miguel comes back. You spend the next 20 or so minutes preparing the secluded table Miguel likes best. Laying out all your books and supplies, sitting still and then getting antsy and shifting things to straighten them every few minutes.

When Miguel finds you, he walks over with his hands in his pocket. He looks just like he did a few minutes ago, his hair just slightly disheveled. Your heart might have actually stopped when his hand leaves his pocket to grab yours that are drummin nervously on the wooden table. His hand is rough compared to your soft one as he bends down and brings it to his face. His lips are soft, if not slightly chapped, when he presses a fleeting kiss to your knuckles, mumbling an apology for taking so long as he stares into your eyes. Your eyes are wide as you stutter out reassurance that it’s fine. Miguel simply hums before dropping your hand and going to sit down. He pauses when your small hands grab his once again.

Your thumb strokes over the redness and slight purple color of his knuckles, something that definitely wasn’t there when he first came in, hinting at what happened outside of the library building. A slight crease appears between your brows and your lips are in a sad pout.Your eyes don’t leave his hand when you mutter, “You’re hurt.”

Your concern makes Miguel slightly happy, liking the idea you care for him. He slips his hand into yours, bending back down as his hand goes under your chin to lift your face. Out of sight from peering eyes, he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, mkay?”

Your stuttered and shy state makes him smile, muttering how cute you are as he finally sits down. You have to clap a hand over your mouth to conceal a squeak when Miguel grabs the seat of your chair and pulls it closer to him, practically connecting the edge of the chairs. He casually throws his arm over the back of your chair, not doing any dramatics like faking a yawn or stretching. You stare and blink at him, nervousness bubbling in your stomach as he leans in closer. “Are we going to start or what, mami?”

He keeps his smile to himself, watching as you clear your throat and scramble to open your science textbook to where you had left off the last time. He just sits and watches, fingers ghosting over your shoulder gently, feeling nothing like the other guy. He listens to what you’re saying faintly, pointing at some diagram in the book. He thinks you asked him a question because you stare at him patiently, yet expectantly. He turns to you, shrugging, “Can’t see the model clearly.”

You nod, moving to push the book closer to him before his hands are on your waist. He leans fully back into his chair as he lifts you off yours and into his lap. He pulls the book in front of the both of you, head resting on your shoulder as he hums. “That’s better. Now ask the question again.”

Your brain stops functioning for a second, Miguel’s hands leaving your waist to rest against your legs, fingers slightly caressing the side of your thigh. Your nervousness makes you squirm, and his hands instantly grab onto your thighs tightly with a hiss. He grinds out for you to ask the question again, but he doesn’t sound aggressive. His voice sounds more pained and desperate. You nod with a gulp, hesitantly reasking the question that he pretends to think about before answering correctly just to hear your praise.

As you continue talking, Miguel’s fingers rub the skin just below the ending of your skirt. You try to ignore the touches, but your body melts against his front as your voice quiets and you shift your body slightly to press into him. Miguel’s breath tickles your neck and your thighs clench as a single finger slips under the material of your skirt. It just barely skims over your panties, and your breath hitches. Miguel smirks at your reactions, asking you what’s wrong as he slowly moves your leg so it hangs over his leg. You’re a stuttering mess, brain malfunctioning when his hand comes back and caresses the crotch of your panties. Your cheeks flush, knowing it’s damp in arousal.

A quiet groan leaves Miguel as he moves your panties to the side, letting his fingers rub against your bare pussy. Sticky fluid instantly clings to his fingers and his head turns to press kisses against your neck, his free hand coming up to your chin to tilt your head to the side for more room. Your hand comes down to hold his arm, eyes closing as the tips of his fingers tease your entrance. When he hears your slight whimper, he looks up to your face and pulls his fingers away, moving them to trace circles in your inner thigh.

The small sound you make in protest causes him to chuckle, “Shh, shh. Keep talking, baby. You’re supposed to help me, remember?”

You open your mouth to protest but his fingers are back, this time slowly sinking into your heat instead of just teasing with his fingertips. Your eyes instantly close again and you let out a shuddering breath. You open our eyes, trying to focus on the words in the book. When you begin to read and explain a scientific equation, Miguel’s fingers reach knuckle-deep into you. You can hear the muffled sound he makes as he continues to suck and kiss your neck. Your weak explanation is cut off when he pulls his fingers back and pumps them into you, curling his fingers. The beginning of a moan is let out before your hand clasps over your mouth. Miguel laughs evilly as he continues moving his fingers.

You're sure this is a game to him. Everytime you stop explaining things, he stops and tells you to continue. But once you start talking, his pumps and curls his fingers faster, causing you to cut yourself off when sounds of pleasures. You’re a mess by the time you finish your explanation, hips grinding into Miguel’s hand and fingers clutching to the edge of the table for stability.

Once you say your last words, Miguel speeds his fingers up and bites into your neck, “Good girl. Gonna give you a reward for being such a good girl for me, yeah?”

You don’t hesitate to nod, face screwed up in pleasure as you reach closer and closer to the edge. Miguel leaves your neck, licking the bite soothingly before tilting your face back towards him. He muffles the loud moan you make as you gush around his fingers with a deep kiss. He bites and sucks on your bottom lip, eyes closed and brows furrowed as he savors the taste of your lip gloss. His tongue swipes over the seam of your lips, causing you to part them as his tongue explores your mouth.

His fingers move to lazy pumps, working you through your orgasm before stopping completely. Your body shakes slightly against his, and he smirks into the kiss before pulling away. His fingers reappear from under your skirt, covered in your white cum. You both watch as he part his two fingers, white strings connecting the two. You let out an embarrassed whimper, watching as Miguel brings them up to his mouth, licking them clean. Your taste instantly floods his mouth and he practically rolls his eyes back. Of course you’d taste so fucking sweet and delicious. His fingers leave his mouth with a small pop, hurriedly coming back to kiss you again. A shy moan leaves you at your own taste.

Miguel’s hand moves your other leg, spreading you out fully so both of your legs are pressed into the sides of his thighs. His hand leaves your chin and scoots you further up his leg, working on undoing his jeans just enough to stick his aching cock out of his underwear. The head is red and leaking, precum sliding down his length. His hand comes to pump himself before he moves you back over him, his cock resting against your ruined panties.

“Move your panties to the side for me, yeah?” He mumbles against your lips. You comply instantly, pushing your panties to one side, moaning when Miguel takes a hold of his cock to align it with you. He pushed slowly into you, his hand releasing his cock to hold onto your thigh and to cover your mouth as you continued moaning out. He throws his head back with a choked moan the moment he bottoms out, holding still to bask in the way your tight cunt swallows him and squeezes around him.

“Feels so fucking tight. Feels like I’m in heaven.” Miguel hisses out, his hips thrusting into you experimentally.

The cutest of mewls leave your mouth, causing Miguel to nose your cheek almost lovingly. He takes his time, lazily thrusting into your pulsating pussy in an attempt to hold himself back. But he’s wanted this for so long. He’s wanted to touch you, to kiss you, to just be near you since the moment he laid eyes on you. And he’s here, in the goddamn school library, and you’re letting him fuck you as you sit on his lap. It feels like a scene straight out of some fucked-up erotica or porn video. Would it be too much if he started thanking you until he’s a babbling mess?

A strangled noise leaves Miguel when you start fucking bouncing on his cock, impatient with his slow speed. Instinctively, his hips speed up. The sound of wet squelching filling the small, unoccupied section of the library. Anyone can walk over, some poor student or librarian in need of a book only to find his good girl riding his cock so desperately. The thought makes his balls tighten and he has to distract himself before he blows his load into you too soon. He buries his head into the curve of your shoulder, shifting the hand that covers your mouth to stuff two of his fingers past your lips. Without even asking, you start sucking on them as you lift your hips up and down.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl, princesa.” Miguel praises into your ear, his hand leaving your thigh to pinch and play with your neglected clit. It causes you to squirm and for your steady riding to falter. “Oh fuck. Taking my cock so well, yeah? Taking it is so good for me. Holy fuck!”

More curses leave his mouth as he pounds into you, shifting his hips until he hits that gummy spot inside of you that causes you to wrap your arm around his neck to hold on for dear life. Your pussy just keeps quivering around him, milking him for the cum you so desperately need to be filled with. The cum he wants to fill and claim you with. The thought of you walking out of the library, hell going to tutor another student, with his cum flooding your pussy and dripping through your panties is something he’s fantasized about for months. His pure, innocent girl tainted with how dirty she is by fucking him of all people, in a place where anyone can see how naughty she really is.

“Miguel!”

The sound of your muffled call makes his eyes snap open from their closed position, He looks up at your face, watching as a line of drool drips from your stuffed mouth. He has to groan and give you deep thrusts as a thank you for the pretty sight. As he thrusts, he realizes how much your walls have contracted, practically trying to trap his cock inside you. He notices how much your body is beginning to twitch and he knows you’re close. Your eyes look hazy and the muffled moans you let out add on to how close you must be to coating his cock.

“Wanna cum on my cock, love? Gonna cum and make you all mine, yeah?” He whispers into your ear, slowing his fast thrusting in exchange for hard and deep thrusts that cause you to whine. You desperately nod your head, babbled and incoherent nonsense being said around his fingers.

Miguel let out a low chuckle, speeding up again and relishing the happy noise that vibrates in the back of your throat. Your walls clench around him like a heartbeat for a few blissful moments before you're screaming around his fingers as your back arches and thighs shake. Miguel moans as he feels you cum around him, the lewdest noises coming from your wet cunt as he hammers into you for his own release. A sweat builds up on his face as he drives into you, trying to push in and out of your tight walls that only seem to tighten the more he thrusts.

“That’s my good fucking girl. Came so beautifully around my cock.” He mumbles, looking down to where the two of you are connected to see the most gorgeous white ring at the base of his cock. He can feel himself twitching inside of you, on the brink of exploding.

Miguel bites into your neck as one last act of claiming as he spills into you, his hips not stopping as he pumps you full of his seed. A delirious moan comes from you as you feel his warmth, but you seem happy as you melt into him. Your skin is sticky from sweat, arousal, and Miguel’s saliva when he pulls his face away from your neck. The bite mark is red against the purples beginning to stain your skin. He can feel himself getting hard again at the sight of it, but he refrains from taking more than what you’ve already given him.

He lifts you up slightly, moaning as a mix of cum slowly falls from your hole, dripping onto the underside of his semi-hard cock. It drips down, merging with the cum that still sits at the base of his dick. He makes you stand between his legs, your upper body pressed against the table as you try to recompose yourself as Miguel lifts up the back of your skirt to study your glistening pussy and thighs. He pressed a small kiss on your pussy lips before readjusting your underwear to cover you again. A proud smile graces his lips as he watches the previous wet spot in them get darker from the cum still trying to leave you.

When he pulls the skirt back down, he finds you looking over your shoulder with a shy look. His beautiful good girl is back to her doe eyes and flustered cheeks. Miguel tucks himself back into his underwear, zipping himself back up. He takes the time to lazily look around, amazed that no one realized what was happening or witnessed it. He stands up off the chair, looking back towards you and wraps one of his arms around your middle to pull you up against his chest.

The tiniest of squeaks leaves you as you meet his hard chest again, looking up at him with amazement. You can’t help but study his face, admiring the way his lashes flutter as he blinks and the way he looks good from even this angle. HIs eyes look down at you briefly, a lazy smile coming over his face as he shakes his head. He works on packing up your things for you, closing the unneeded textbook and stuffing it and your other supplies back into your bag. When he’s finished, he shifts his face down towards you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

The sappy smile that appears on your face makes his heart beat fast and for his own cheeks to heat up. He gulps and clears his throat, looking away as his hand starts rubbing the skin it rests over. He slings your book bag over his shoulder, the pastel color of it a large contrast over his entirely black attire. He stares back down at you, pushing hair out of your face and tilting his head at you.

“Do you have another tutoring session to go to now?” He whispers softly, smiling when you shake your head no wordlessly. He hums in pleasure, his arm sliding from around your center and down to your hand, dwarfing it in his. He gives it a tight squeeze and pulls you with him as he starts walking towards the exit. You follow him with no resistance, just hurrying your pace to keep up with his long strides.

“Where are we going?” You ask as the afternoon sun instantly hits both of you when you walk out the door. He pulls you straight to his car, opening the passenger door for you and closing it before putting your bag in the backseat. You watch without question through the windshield as you buckle in and he rounds the car to go through the drivers’ side door. After he buckles in, he turns and starts reversing, not answering until he’s out of the parking spot and turning the wheel back to straighten it.

“Imma take you home so you can change.” He says simply, turning to throw you a quick smile before grabbing your hand again and intertwining them as he clutches onto the gearshift. “And then, I’m going to take you out on a date.”

Part 2

Literally the longest thing I’ve posted because I love this request so much! I now reached 100 pages in my writing doc. As always, SpanishDict was used.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x you #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #across the spiderverse smut #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel o hara #spiderman 2099 #cherry's requests🍒

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marvelfilth · 9 months

Text

Professional help (18+)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Wanda Maximoff x f!reader, brief mention of Peter Quill x f!reader

Warnings: AU, gynecologist!Natasha, assistant!Wanda, smut, oral, fingering, cheating, Peter being an asshole

Summary: your boyfriend makes you see a doctor to get yourself "fixed", luckily Natasha and Wanda know exactly what to do

A/n: I'm not a doctor, so bear with me pls

Masterlist

You sit in the waiting room, anxiously waiting for your name to be called. Your leg bounces rapidly against the marble tiles of the clinic, drawing the attention of other patients. You cross your legs, sanding a sheepish smile to an old lady who's been eyeing you for the last few minutes, wishing your boyfriend just stayed with you like he promised he would.

He's the one who made the appointment after all.

You sigh for a hundredths time and check your watch, debating on leaving. Peter will be disappointed, sure, perhaps even mad, but you still can't stomach the idea of admitting something so embarrassing to a stranger.

You've been dating for almost six months now, and after a lot of persuasion on his part, you've finally allowed him to take your virginity. Your jaw clenches when you remember the night. It was very romantic, sure, the wine was expensive and as old as your grandma, the food was delicious and his jokes were perfectly timed, but when it came down to it, you were both left disappointed.

Peter is attractive, sexy, and you know any girl would kill to be in your place, but when he took off his clothes and climbed on top of your naked body you couldn't feel a thing. You went to sleep unsatisfied. He went to sleep with a bruised ego and a promise of getting you right the next time.

And now you're here, ready to see a gynecologist, because there has to be something wrong with your body, there's no other explanation.

"Y/n Y/l/n?" A voice pulls you out of your head.

You look up to see a young woman, smiling down at you politely, her green eyes sparkling in the blinding lighting of the hospital.

"Yes?" You speak up hesitantly, torn between following the woman and trying to make it for the door.

Her smile turns genuine. "Follow me."

You walk behind the woman, your eyes pinned to the intricate braid, strands of brown hair clinging to her neck. You swallow, looking away. It's definitely not the time to stare at a pretty woman. She leads you to the last door down the hall, opening it and following behind you once you step in.

"Take a seat." She gestures at the chair in front of the doctors desk. You swallow nervously when you notice a gynecological chair behind a folding screen.

The woman squeezes your shoulder

"Don't be nervous. Dr. Romanoff will take good care of you," she says with conviction. For some reason it helps you relax, your shoulders dropping. "My name's Wanda," she says, "I'm Dr. Romanoff's assistant. I'll be here the whole time."

You gulp. "Like… the whole time?"

She smiles, mirth flickers in her eyes.

"Yes, the whole time." Another voice enters the conversation and you crane your neck to see the woman striding into the room to take place in the white leather chair behind the desk. "Is there a problem with that?"

She eyes you intently. You feel like it doesn't matter what your answer will be, Wanda will stay either way. And now, looking at the stern looking woman you feel like you'll need Wanda's soft reassurance. Maybe that's why she's here in the first place.

You shake your head at last, not trusting your voice not to waver.

"Good. Now tell me what's bothering you." The redhead flickers through your medical file, barely sparing you a glance.

You look at Wanda for help and she sends you an encouraging smile, her hand sliding lower down your arm. "Um…" you start, not sure how to broach the subject. "Well, you see, me and my boyfriend, we-" you swallow nervously, and Wanda takes hold of your hand, squeezing your fingers reassuringly. "We've been intimate… a few times. But it seems there's something wrong. With me, I mean." You cringe, biting your lip.

You can feel their gazes on you.

Dr. Romanoff's eyes narrow dangerously and you feel like getting up and running away.

"What do you mean by that, sweetheart?" Wanda asks, her breath fanning your ear.

You gather your courage and meet her eyes. "I can't- I can't finish." Now that you've started, the words come out easily. "I mean, it doesn't bother me, not really, but my boyfriend-"

"It doesn't bother you?" Dr. Romanoff cuts you off. You feel small under her eyes, ready to fold in on yourself.

"N-no?"

She sighs heavily and closes her eyes for a moment. You feel like a child about to get scolded.

"So you're here because your boyfriend can't make you come." The words leave her mouth the second her eyes open.

You flinch, scooting deeper into your seat. Wanda wraps her other arm around your shoulder, softly nudging you to continue.

"He- he told me he's never had that problem before, and I… well, when I tried it myself, you know…" You look at Wanda and she nods in understanding. "It didn't work either, so he must be right. Can you help me?" Your cheeks are crimson red by now, you can feel how hot your face is.

Dr. Romanoff stands up abruptly, making you flinch. She walks behind the folding screen and you can hear her fiddling with something. Wanda squeezes your shoulders reassuringly and tells you to follow her. You do so without a second thought.

"Take off your clothes," Dr. Romanoff says, settling on a rolling stool.

You gulp, folding your arms in front of your chest. "A- all of them?"

Dr. Romanoff looks like she wants to roll her eyes before stopping herself and looking at Wanda, her brow quirking. You can feel Wanda inhale sharply behind you.

"Yes, sweetheart, all of them." Her tone's urgent. "You need a thorough examination."

Dr. Romanoff smirks at that, shaking her head almost unnoticeably.

"You heard her." She nods at you.

You look around for a spot to undress, but figure it doesn't matter if they'll see you naked anyway, so you hesitantly start to undress under their scrutinizing eyes.

"Let me help." Wanda's fingers skimp over your skin as she helps you take off your bra, your nipples hardening from the cold. Dr. Romanoff's eyes dart to your pebbled skin, her lips parting slightly.

And then Wanda cups your breasts from behind you, whispering, "I'll start right now, okay?"

You can only manage a small nod.

Dr. Romanoff must've noticed the state you're in, because suddenly she's kneeling in front of you, tugging down your pants along with your underwear, humming at the sight of a string of your slick connecting to your panties.

You close your eyes in embarrassment.

She cups your face. "No need for that, angel. You're doing good."

You shudder at the tone of her voice, slurty and breathy. Having no idea on why your body is reacting this way, you lean back against Wanda, granting her more acces. She massages your breasts, kneading and tugging until you're left breathless.

Then, as quickly as she came, she pulls away and nudges you into the other woman's arms. Dr. Romanoff leads you to sit on the chair and you swallow your embarrassment when she spreads your legs and puts them on the knee rest, sliding between your legs on her rolling chair.

You look away, wincing.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Wanda whispers from your side, taking hold of your hand, "Natasha is best at what she's doing."

You breathe out.

You think her name fits her very well.

"How long does it usually take?" You ask, not daring to look away from Wanda.

Faint scraping noises sound around the room as Natasha writes something down in your chart, humming in thought. She hasn't touched you, not yet.

"Not long, usually, but you're here for a special reason, aren't you? So it's going to take a bit longer," Wanda says quietly.

You nod in understanding, finally looking down to meet Natasha's eyes. She's holding a speculum. You shudder, backing away. Wanda pins you in place with a strong grip on your shoulders.

"Please, don't. Can you use something else?" You ask. Biting down on your lip, you look at the redhead pleadingly. The last time a doctor used that thing on you, you were hurting for days.

"I don't think there's anything else I can use. I promise I'll be gentle," she tries to reassure you, but you shake your head no, gripping Wanda's hand fighter.

"Please, just use something else. There should be something else, right?" You plead.

Natasha's eyes flicker to Wanda, a silent question swimming in the emerald pools. After a tense moment she gives the younger woman a brief nod. She slides away and Wanda leaves your side, taking Natasha's place between your legs.

Dr. Romanoff takes hold of your face, gaining your attention. "My assistant needs some hands-on practice and this is a perfect occasion, since you're adamant about the speculum. You don't mind her using her fingers, do you?" She rubs your chin gently, coaxing you to agree.

You wet your lips, feeling your pussy clench in anticipation. Natasha's eyes follow your tongue, her pupils dilating. You nod your consent and Wanda wastes no time in spreading your folds open and teasing your entrance. Your hips jolt violently.

"Try to keep still, sweetheart, or we'll have to restrain you." Wanda fingers glide around your folds, barely grazing your clit and you're already drenched and gasping for air. "You're doing good so far, angel, keep it up." Wanda smiles softly, gently easing one of her fingers inside.

You bite back a moan, gripping the cushion below you with all of your strength. Natasha keeps taking notes, occasionally glancing down at your pussy and exchanging quiet words with Wanda.

Wanda's finger pumps into you at a gentle pace, hitting a soft spot deep inside of you.

You didn't even know you could feel that good.

When her finger curls you let out a loud moan. Your hand flies down to take hold of Wanda's, but it's intercepted by Natasha's, who pins you back down with surprising strength.

"You're not allowed to move, remember?" She scolds. You nod dumbly and relax in her hold. She nods in satisfaction and looks at Wanda. "One more."

Wanda obeys and slides two fingers in the next thrust, pushing down on your hips with her other hand. You try not to squirm, but your legs still shake from the way her fingers curl inside you. Your eyes begin to water as your stomach tightens, you feel like you're about to explode.

"How does that feel?" Natasha's whispers against the shell of your ear, her hair tickling your neck.

"G-good, so good," you whine, desperately clutching the chair.

"Mhm," she hums, putting her hands on either side of your breasts, rubbing the skin in soft circles. "You're taking Wanda so well, kotenok. Make me proud and hold it for me, okay?" She asks as her hands cup your breasts, pressing down on your nipples.

You don't have to ask to know what it means, you just shake your head desperately, not daring to touch her. Tears gather in the corners of your eyes, making your vision blur.

"Please, Natasha, pl- ah!" You cry out when Wanda adds another finger, stretching you out deliciously. She thrusts into you hard and fast, making your body move up on the chair. "I can't-" you bite down on your lip, pleading Natasha with your eyes. "Please, let me come."

The doctor chuckles with mirth, rolling your nipples between her defty fingers. "Stop."

Wanda pulls away immediately, making you whimper. You want to cry out, you want to tug her back, but you do none of these things, obediently laying back and waiting for Natasha's instructions.

You pussy clenches around nothing while Natasha takes her time stepping around you and taking Wanda's place, the younger woman coming to stand near your head, wiping her fingers.

"Natasha's gonna take a good look at your pussy, sweet girl, just don't move."

Dr. Romanoff's fingers slide in without any struggle, immediately making you whine and buckle your hips in her hold. She spreads her fingers inside you, opening you up even more and you feel like you're about to burst from the stretch. You moan loudly when she adds a third finger.

"Keep quiet," she says, pinching your inner thigh.

You swallow back moans as she starts circling your clit with her thumb, the added pressure sending shivers down your spine.

"Such a perfect body," Wanda murmurs, trailing her fingers down the length of your torso. "You deserve to be worshiped." She leans down and licks a long stripe from your ribs to the underside of your breast, sucking the tender skin there.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your fingers burying in her brown locks. She hums softly as her arm slides along your waist, holding you tight.

Natasha doesn't waste another second waiting and sets a rough pace, thrusting her finger deep and spreading them with each thrust. "Look at you, malyshka, your greedy pussy is swallowing my fingers," she smirks, bending down to kiss your inner thigh.

"Natasha!" You cry out loudly, your back arching. Lips wrap around your nipple, sucking gently, and you choke on your moan, your pussy clenching around Natasha's slender fingers.

"You're doing good, baby, so good," Wanda mumbles around the pebbled skin, "You deserve to be filled to the brim. Fuck, you'd look so pretty with both of us deep inside you, sweetheart."

Your hips buckle to meet Natasha's thrusts and this time she doesn't stop you. She curls her fingers, hitting a spot you didn't even know existed and you come, your orgasm hitting you hard as spots of white cloud your vision.

Natasha's fingers don't stop moving inside you, if anything she thrusts faster, rougher, your sensitive clit pulsing rapidly.

"We're not done until I say we're done, got it?" She leans down to wrap her lips around your bundle of nerves and sucks, fingers moving inside you with a violent pace.

Wanda releases your nipple with a wet pop and focuses her attention on your neck, teeth leaving purplish marks on the tender skin. You cry out, another orgasm fast approaching and Wanda pulls you into a bruising kiss, your moans disappearing between her full lips as Natasha licks long stripes up your slit.

"You're doing so good, baby. Fuck I want to make a mess of your pretty face, sweetheart," Wanda whines and takes hold of your hand, pushing it past the waistband of her scrubs. You follow her lead and soon your fingers disappear in her wet heat. She gasps and bends to rest her weight on you as you quickly pump your fingers inside her.

Natasha pulls away to admire the scene in front of her, fingers lazily circling your clit before she plunges four of her fingers back inside, stretching you to the brim. Your back arches as you moan loudly, clenching around slender fingers. Wanda comes with you, burrowing her face into your neck as you both come down your high, gasping for air.

Dr. Romanoff presses a kiss to your thigh before gently prying strands of hair away from your face. "We'll have to schedule a follow up appointment, kitten."

#wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff smut #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x you #wandanat x reader #wandanat #black widow smut #scarlet witch x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #professional help

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simpjaes · 1 month

Note

heeseung taking out all his anger during sex drabble pls ❤️

MDNI.

this was originally written for jeno on my other blog but it fits so well [i rewrote it/reworded a lot of things. it's much better now lol] wc: 2.3k

tags: Heeseung hate fucks reader when he has a bad day, unprepped penetration, reader basically loses her ability to feel anything other than his cock lmao (cock drunk)

It doesn't always hurt when Heeseung has his hands on you. Really, most of the time it’s blissful. There were those nights though, when he would be rough, careless, and borderline worrisome with you. Oftentimes humiliating you in the way you can barely even mutter his name, weak and quivering under him.

It doesn’t happen happen, but when it does, you know how much you always end up…kind of loving it.

Really, even if in the moment you’re in pain, sometimes even scared, you had to tell him after the fact to keep doing it. That it’s okay. That you fucking love it.

Naturally, tonight is another one of those nights.

Heeseung, first, had you against the counter with his strong arms pressing you back until your head hit the cabinets. You were, essentially, pinned there between his frustrated eyes and the counter top with him slotting himself between your legs. Not a single word is said to you, not a single explanation, and arguably, you know better than to ask.

You already know. He’s had a bad day.

So, you just let him. Feeling his lips go from a grimace to biting and nipping against your skin. You can only imagine how bad his day went for him to be so silent, still, you let him do as he pleases because you don’t exactly want to make it worse for him. If anything, you’re fine with being an outlet. You get plenty out of this too, after all.

And there is a part of him that knows he’s doing this with you rather than at you, based on your previous pleads to be his outlet. He’s forever in love with the fact that you let him be this rough, with his bruising grip and harsh teeth. There’s nothing more in this world he could need to unwind aside from you and you alone. Solely because you let him.

When he drags you to the bedroom without a word, you simply let him. Internally bubbling with all sort of emotions. Fear, excitement, concern, arousal. He appears to be more angry tonight though, solely because his fingers gripping your wrist hurts much more than usual. You can feel your skin under them, pulling and stretching under his grip as he takes you to where he wants you.

And yet again, like on many nights like these, he doesn’t offer a single bit of foreplay. He does little more than getting his cock out with that same frustrated face, flicking his head down as if he has an expectation of you. That, he does. You know it very well, and you do as you’re directed. Rolling your pajamas down your leg and easily spreading your legs and pussy for him.

Unprepped, still mostly dry. You know it’s going to hurt, and he knows it’s going to hurt too. The understanding is mutual but the act is much needed on more ends than just Heeseung’s.

The drag of his immediate, forced, plunge is uncomfortable for both of you, but something about the feeling of getting you wet while he’s inside of you is something that grounds Heeseung beyond belief. The feeling pulls him out of his red thoughts and turns them a shade darker.

It’s always you who can distract him.

And, of course, he only goes faster and harder at that point, chasing the moment for when you’ll slick up for him nice and wet. Gripping onto your body in such a harsh way that all you can do for him is whimper and cry. Your eyes always force the tears, especially when he hasn’t kissed you yet. But even if he had kissed you, you’d be unable to kiss him back at this point. Not until the discomfort subsides anyway.

Thankfully, and like always, it doesn’t take long for your body to want it. What was once the sound of dry and slapping skin turns to that of wet, squelching sounds as you drip out and around him. The drag hurts no more, and by this point you need him to go harder, faster, fucking deeper. After all, if he’s going to hate-fuck you when you’re not even the point of his anger, if he’s not even going to kiss you, he better find a way to make it hurt more.

Heeseung does come back to himself when he feels the slide though, loving that he can come home from his awful day and have you present yourself in such a way for him. He loves you more than anything, for so many fucking reasons that don’t include that, but still. This is what you do for him, and it brings his softness back tenfold as he reaches out for your face, eyes softening for you in concern.

Fuck, he swears he learns something new about you every day too. After all the years the two of you have been together, he’s shocked when you turn your face away from him. He’s a bit defeated at the act, partially wondering if he’s really pushed it too far in terms of using you. It’s not often he doesn’t at least give you some praise as he does this, but really, he was so, so upset. His brain just….he needed this before saying anything.

And so, at that motion of you turning your face away from him and his softer hands, he only slams his hips harder. He tips himself back a bit now, using one hand to tug at your clit as if it’s a form of retaliation from your rejection.

It would be retaliation anyway, but Heeseung knows well enough how much you love to hurt. You love when he tugs and pinches against your pretty, swollen clit. The sharp pains always make you cry in a way that fucks your brain up. As if you don’t know whether to plead for him to stop or to ask for more.

Still, he’s frustrated that you won’t let him love on you now that he’s grounded himself a bit. His whole fucking day has been a disaster, and now you’re pulling away? Not making eye contact? Not letting him kiss you?

“Baby, look at me.” He says, now nearly demanding that you do as he says.

And, of course, you do.

“You want it to hurt more?” He continues when you still shift your eyes away from him, but he’s a bit amused in the way you nod to him. So out of it for him that he feels almost silly for being upset at you in the first place.

“Yeah?” He nods with a half chuckle, slowing his hips but now driving in with intent and harsh plunges. “Just like that?”

You yelp as you urge him with a nod, loving the sear and feeling of your boyfriend tearing you open. And while you know he’s being rough, he’s not quite giving you his all now that he’s softened up.

You want him to give it his ass by this point now, if the sound of your pussy is anything to go by. You want him to fucking hurt you, to the point you can’t moan, to the point you can’t breathe.

“More,” You manage to get out for him in another yelped whimper. “You’re being soft.”

“Yeah?” He asks for confirmation with his hand reaching for you cheek again, burying his leaking cock in so deep, so painfully deep. “Look at me.”

You do, showing him your blown out pupils and mess of hair on top of you head. You nod frantically, wanting him to push further than he ever has. Wondering if he’ll ever surpass his own limit for you.

It goes like this for a while longer than usual. More pain, more pleasure, and your heart rate higher than you thought possible.

He’s using you so well and you couldn’t be more proud to be this for him. An outlet, his girlfriend, his sex doll. And fuck, he bites, he bruises, he drags his hips so painfully into you that you feel like you genuinely could be split in half at any moment if he truly wanted to.

So full, you can feel it so deeply inside of you that all you can do is cry.

You lose yourself to that feeling, basking in the sensation of your walls clenching every inch of him and moaning out with each second that passes. To the point your throat is sore and your eyes are swollen from the tears.

He pulls against your hair now, holding his hips in place and burying himself just as deep as before inside of you. Instantly, you see tunnel vision now. Like you could burst, both physically and emotionally, all for him.

Him, him, him.

And he only holds himself like that to the point that you can feel your cervix bruise. He only pushes harder now, trying to inch in more of his cock despite having no more to give. He lifts your leg over his shoulder just to get a different angle at the failure, only to find a way to make you feel him deeper than you thought was possible.

God, it hurts so good and he loves it. Your pained face paired with the image of your pussy taking the entirety of him. You’re everything to him.

And now? His grunts are that of focus rather than pleasure. He wants to ruin you, he is trying to ruin you to the fucking core just to see if you’ll unravel in a new sort of way.

It’s the fact that he’s talking to you through it too. You can’t make out a single word though, tunnel vision is tunnel hearing, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his cock bruising the deepest part of you. Being torn apart by the man you love is…something you’ll never forget.

And when you do manage to catch a smirk on his face before his hips start sliding back and forth again, you realize he loves this as much as you do. Of course he does, who wouldn’t love a girl willing to let her man surpass his own limits?

Out of respect, no less.

“Are you with me?” His voice echoes through your eyes, and while he’s fully aware that you’re absolutely fucking gone with the way he’s fucking you right now, he takes your distant nod as confirmation.

Despite how far aware he seems in your head, you know that every sensation your body is feeling right now is because of him. You can’t help the quivering. The uncontrollable shaking.

It feels so good, to the point you are nearly numb to everything else around you. The swollen feeling of your body being abused is too, too fucking good. You can’t even comprehend that he’s kissing against your slack mouth, but you do your best to kiss him back.

Goddamn does he love the way you drool all over yourself and him. Good. Fucking good girl.

“Try again,” He chuckles against your tongue, waiting, just to see if you can manage to kiss him properly. Though he suspects you’re completely lost in your head right now.

After all, he’s giving you exactly what you asked for.

And all you can do in return is blink up at him with a dazed smile. Your body is moving up with each of his thrusts just to make it that much more painful, and his lips continue to lay against yours. He’s truly waiting for you to kiss him back like you have the ability to do it. Like you can truly think of anything else rather than what he’s doing between your legs.

Hah.

“You’re so gone, baby.” He smiles in a breath at your failure to do anything more than leave your mouth open for him. He’s fucking floored by how much you love this, and how you truly embrace the inability to think at this moment. “You’re loving this, hm?”

You can’t even not for him this time, feeling pangs of pain and pleasure shoot through your body with each sharp thrust.

“Try again, pretty girl.” He encourages you when he licks against your bottom lip again, gripping your hair with his other hand and craning your neck back.

”You can do it, come on.” He adds, biting against your neck and licking the mark.

You once again, can’t even try, because he accentuates each word with a drag of his pulsing cock and a sharp pressure against your clit with his abdomen. So, you stop trying, falling into the depths of the sensations and allowing yourself to lose your grasp on reality entirely.

Fucking hell, he loves it. The way you come undone, the way your entire body goes clack before shaking uncontrollably with a wet spurt of your pussy trying to push him out. He can feel you clench around him, your body acting on instinct to push, push, push, the pleasure out and all over him.

He has to hold back his own impressed moan at the way he stays buried into you as you squirt around him with that pretty, pained look on your face.

“Fuck, that feels good, doesn’t it?” He grunts out, slowing his pace to feel you clench around him fully, enough to where he needs to brace himself to pull out slightly just to shove his cock right back into that quivering mess. “So out of it too, god–” He moans now, leaning back just to look down fully. Noting how you’ve left a mess all over him.

And you still continue to quiver, your pussy still clenches and grips him. All the way until you’re slack, still clenching, and he’s now pumping his cum into you with such a relieved moan that it almost brings you back to reality.

By the time he’s done shaking on top of you, out of breath, and pulling out, your ears are ringing save for his soft voice.

“Baby?” You hear him say as he dips down beside your head. “I got you.”

You manage to nod to him and smile in a drunken kind of daze as he lifts you from the bed for the proper clean up from a boyfriend who very much loves you.

#enhypen smut #heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen hard hours

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devotion · 11 months

Text

there’s no distance (between you and me); miguel o’hara

☾ pairing: husband!miguel o’hara x fem!spider-woman!reader

☾ synopsis: owing to his heightened senses, miguel finds out that you’re on your period before you do. and with that, he’s more than willing to tend for your needs, whatever they may be. | wc: 2.1k+.

☾ type: fluffy oneshot

☾ warnings: mentions of period and blood (not graphic), nicknames, baby talk, a suggestive ending.

☾ notes: first miguel fic!!! AHH, took me 2 weeks to write after almost 7 months of not writing at all, but i made it! regarding the spanish in this fic, i kept it simple as possible. i did do spanish for 7 years, and have an ear for it (and got an A), but if any spanish speakers out there see anything that needs correcting, feel free to do so <3 also... fluffy requests pls?

the feeling gnaws at your insides, growing as minutes tick by, but also fading every once in a while.

you notice it’s morning by the sunlight peeking through your sleep mask, but way past sunrise as the birds’ chirping and warbling seem to have been replaced wholly by the bustle of nueva york. it’s ten am, probably, and you’re not planning to move an inch yet.

what you’re sensing is undeniably familiar, you realise. eventhough it’s been quite a while you haven’t experienced it, there’s no other explanation as to why your uterus is screaming for you to go to the bathroom.

miguel clicked on way before you could even confirm it though.

a few months, nearing six to be exact, your boyfriend has developed his wits to sense exactly what stage of your cycle you’re in, instinctively becoming second nature. besides your body language doing most of the talking, his ability to smell helps him discover more about you than you do yourself.

you appreciating it is an understatement to say the least. except... except that it’s hard to hide when you’re ovulating.

he shakes the thought.

“amor,” miguel whispers, in an attempt to wake you up. by your heartbeat, however, he knows you’re slipping into and out of consciousness—not too slow and almost at a resting rate.

his eyebrows furrow with one look at your face—kissed by the moon and kissed by him. he’s always up before you are, never wavering to steal that one chance to admire you. as his eyes trail to your fingers hanging from the edge of the bed, back to every feature and detail on your face, a deep chuckle escapes him; he simply couldn’t put into words how much he’s in love with you. the awe he has in your beauty resurfaces, the way you have glitter for skin, the way he can get to call you his.

at that, he’s not willing to disturb your rest, but he must, just so he can cater for you like he should.

“baby...” miguel nudges your arm the slightest, lips meeting with your forehead. a kiss, two kisses, three. “nena, porfa... wake up.”

“no,” you dismiss.

“you need to. estás en tú periodo, mi amor.”

finally, your eyes are met with his. and that’s when your eyebrows knit together, all your emotions and feelings align to fit with the facts.

“want me to get you up?”

your hand lazily raises to him, in which he responds swiftly to, bracing you in his arms to take you to the bathroom. as soon as he sets you down in front of the sink, it takes him seven seconds at most to grab a few stuff you’ll be needing: pads, a hot water bottle, paracetamol and water.

“how did the kettle heat the water so quickly?”

“tomé café.”

“oh,” you nod, sighing and seating yourself down. hugging the hot water bottle close to your tummy gives you mild relief, giving you a chance to breathe with much less struggle. by the look of your face, however, miguel knows that you’re drained. he senses it. so, he kneels in front, both of his hands on your knees, and promises, “estoy aquí... estoy aquí.”

“yo sé, cariño.”

“need anything else?” he asks, opening the pad packet and placing it in the fresh underwear he had bought you last week.

shaking your head, you pout at him.

his head tilts to the side, eyes smiling at you before he plants a kiss on your lips, lingering.

it’s later on in the day where miguel finds himself back at hq in the monitor room, his work making him busy when he really, really doesn’t want it to. the anomalies keep on appearing out of nowhere, and his plans to keep everything in the right structure always seem frail until the last moment. it sends him to an overdrive, especially with the fact that he’s been preoccupied with the thought of you and how you’re still having to be in the other room, in pain, but lyla insists that the team needs you.

he clenches his fist when she reiterates the same answer to his question again, making the best effort to hide the scowl that forms on his face. after eight trips in the portal today already, he’s in the dire need to head out for a break.

meanwhile, you’re in the other room, sat on a large table in a good distance between gwen and hobie. pavitr, peter b., and jess are also present, having stuffed yourselves with pizza and trash for lunch.

food gets you lost in a world of your own, and you’ve just happily eaten to your heart’s content. yet the usual quiet after everyone has eaten suffuses the room, with them doing their own thing. but all you’re doing is staring blankly into space, foot rubbing on to the other mindlessly as if to distract you from your discomfort.

peter b. has already got some milk heating on the stove. an odd request from you, he thinks, since it’s summer and mid-day, but obliges regardless—for all those times you’ve babysat mayday, this is just a small favour.

gwen notices your restlessness, eyes narrowing at you before she asks in a hushed tone, “hey, you okay?”

you shake your head. the cramps increase twofold now you’re aware of it somehow, and it has your teeth grinding.

“i feel you,” she reveals, her cadence sympathetic before coming close to whisper in your ear, “twinning!” you muster up the energy to turn your head towards her, sending her an inquisitive look. she nods, “mine was worse in the morning.”

“mine started then.”

a few moments pass, small chatter picking up between all of you. gwen advances towards you with her chair in tow, her head leaning onto your shoulder as she begins to rub your lower back. the peace inevitably—of course, how you knew—is interrupted with the door slamming back, revealing a frowning miguel.

eyes closed, you bite back a smile at your husband. a le gusta la atención.

he stops in his tracks towards the fridge. all eyes are on him when he takes a deep inhale, as if to smell something. he comments, “there’s pizza.”

it takes a moment of silence before hobie snorts, head cocking towards miles so that he could chuck the box at miguel for him to catch. miles explains, “tu mujer saved it.”

miguel squints his eyes at him. “¿qué?”

“i’m working on it!”

he glances at you, pupils scarlet, before turning his back, the slight waft of chocolate powder invading his senses as he proceeds to devour the pizza. that’s when he makes his way to where peter b. and mayday are, intending to continue to finish preparing the hot chocolate for you. surely it’s for you only; from everyone in this room, you and mayday are the sole people who enjoy cocoa, and nobody but you would choose to have it after lunch.

a friendly smile from peter greets miguel as he sees him approaching, but is brushed aside. second pizza down, now on his third, miguel moves to get the aerosol whipped cream from the refrigerator, and then the marshmallows, to which peter guesses that he’s probably helping him.

peter, loving to state the obvious, starts, “oh, y/n had told me to make her—”

“—i’ll do it.”

taken aback, peter gives him a dirty look, mayday mirroring him at an instant. it takes a lot of courage from miguel to calm down, most specifically at his fourth pizza slice, just so he could turn his head to peter and feign a smile. and that’s all it took for mayday and his dad to move away heartily and grudgeless.

whilst he takes his time crafting your beverage, gwen comes closer, joking to you about miguel, “uh, you think he’s on his period, too?”

shrugging, your nose crinkles as you smile. “i have somewhat of an influence on him.”

“no shit, he managed to let out a smile after being fed with food.”

“that’s miguelito for you.”

“he’s had this period for life,” she snorts.

a cup, full of everything you love and looking as scrumptious as ever, is abruptly set down in front of you.

“all this—” miguel starts, waving a hand between you both, “—slander ‘bout me.” he webs a chair from behind you, grabbing it, and seats himself to your left.

gwen suddenly becomes busy with her phone.

leaning forward, face mere inches from yours, he scans your eyes, mouth, hands—everything—with concern written all over his own features. you’re staring at him back, head leaning onto your shoulder as the slightest wave of fatigue washes over you.

as delicate fine strokes on a portrait, his eyebrows raise at this. and you understand him, but you shake your head anyway.

he asks to confirm, “estás bien?”

“angry, then hungry, now concerned,” gwen notes, “what’s next?”

miguel gives gwen a light scowl, unintentionally at that.

she exclaims, tapping away on her phone, “one little comment!”

“leave hiiim,” you drag out, ending with a giggle. the pad of your thumb reaches out for his chin, grazing over as you feel his warmth under your touch. a few more moments of silence hangs between the two of you like this. “he’s just being sweet.”

evening dawns on you soon enough, work finished and tiring you and your limbs out extensively. dinner was an hour ago, and both you and miguel stand near the bannister situated at the balcony back at home, witnessing tonight’s nightfall.

you’ve been lucky enough for your cramps to have subsided in the past half hour—not that you’ve really noticed, but at least miguel has.

the sun bathes in the sky filled with shades of oranges and reds as it descends ever so slowly—that’s what you’re marvelling at though.

miguel knows best to take every moment he can to admire you, every chance he gets to be in his delicate daydream. all up to the point your pain is disguised by the smallest eyebrow furrow, he’s quick to scurry behind you. and there he stands, encircling your waist before his palms and fingers massaging over your stomach.

a hum of approval from you is sufficient for him to keep going.

purely for the fun of it, you probe, “never asked you these past few months, but is it not making you bloodthirsty at all?”

miguel frowns, waiting a few moments to see if you’ll dismiss the question, but to no avail. he sighs, “in the nicest way possible as i ask this, muñeca, you want me to?”

“does it though?”

“that’s not the kind of blood i go for.”

your head falls back, snug in his chest. you tease hum further, “no doubt it is.”

he grimaces amusingly.

you snort, “i’m joking, i’m joking.”

he shakes his head, lips turning upwards into a smile as you continue to chuckle. a nip at your neck ebbs away your laughter there and then, turning into something more of a tiny squeal.

you scrunch your nose before taking a deep breath as another cramp aches your abdomen. “keep doing that, you’ll make me bleed from two places.”

he winces.

you hear when he does that, muttering, “big baby.”

“i’ll give you ‘baby’,” he returns playfully, a smirk dancing on his lips as he walks away, facing you still, “with all this teasing, you’ll have no period next month the way you’re going.”

“and what’s that supposed to mean?”

he shrugs, tapping his temple thereafter. “surely, you own the hq with me, you know so much... just keep on thinking.”

no period.

baby?

baby.

“ain’t no way!”

just roughly two weeks later, as expected, a simple winding-down time takes a turn when your hand travels up his thigh. and miguel is miguel—even with his firm hold around your wrist stopping you from trailing ahead, you bite your lip.

“¿qué pasó?”

you retreat little by little, yet the sparkle in your eyes tells him otherwise, igniting the ever-burning flame within him. you’re far from disapproval the second you’re under him, and lucky enough, his smell confirms it.

entangled limbs and deep kisses later, you pull away, grasping his visage in your hands. it takes you by surprise, the way his eyes glimmer and shine, resembling the colour of cherries.

you manage to confess breathily, “your eyes are so pretty.” angling his head to get a better image of you in the dim light, miguel perceives the cutest smile appearing on your lips. you proceed in a whisper, “can i have them?”

his breathing slows as he takes a brief glance at you, and your gaze doesn’t falter. he doesn’t wait another moment not to kiss you the millionth time, your bottom lip captured between both of his in desperation. three, five, seven seconds into it, when his tongue grazes yours, he feels his fangs emerge, making him pull away just as quickly so he doesn’t hurt you.

“no, nena,” he utters the answer against your lips, smirking, “but your kids can.”

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse spoilers #across the spiderverse #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #marvel #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader fluff #miguel x reader #x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #devotion writes

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